"Oh, no. It isn't deep there. I've often waded about there to look for moorhens' nests."

"Yes, my boy; but you're young and light. I'm very heavy."

"Yes," cried one of the others, in high delight; "there's an arrow depth of water where you are, and quite a bow length of thick mud under that."

"Oh, dear!" groaned the monk; "don't laugh at me, my boys. Can't you help me out?"

"Yes, I'll get you out," cried Alfred, and he waded towards his unfortunate tutor, trampling the reeds down with his bare feet, but sinking in up to his knees at every step.

"Mind you don't get into a hole, Fred!" cried Bald.

"Mind the big luces!" shouted Bert. "There's a monster lives among those reeds."

"Oh, they all swam away when Father Swythe fell in," cried Red. "You have got to mind your toes. The big eels are down amongst the mud."

The monk groaned at this, and raised his dripping hands above the water, to grasp with each a handful of reeds.

"The eels will go deeper into the mud," said Alfred st.u.r.dily. "Now then, catch hold of my hands, and I'll pull you out."

The monk raised one hand very cautiously, and Alfred seized it tightly and began to back, pulling with all his might; but he pulled in vain, for he did not move his tutor an inch.

"Here, I know," cried Alfred. "You two come and join hands and pull."

"I'm afraid I'm too heavy," said Father Swythe.

"I shan't help," said Bald maliciously. "Let him stop where he is."

The monk groaned again, and the three boys outside the reeds laughed with malicious glee.

"If we pull him out he'll only take us back and begin to teach us to read."

"Yes, yes, yes," sighed Father Swythe; "I came to fetch you in. The Queen sent me."

"Then we won't help you," said Bert; laughing. "Let's go and finish getting our fish, and then go back. When they ask where he is we'll tell them, and then some of the shepherds can come with wattle hurdles and get him out."

"Oh, dear!" groaned the monk. "After all my teaching, for you boys to be as bad as this! Why, if you leave me I shall be drowned!"

"Oh, no," said Red merrily. "You've only to keep holding your face up."

"Yes," said Bert; "and that will send your legs down till you'll be standing up in the mud and water."

"And all the big flies and things will come and buzz about and settle on your crown. Come along, Fred, and finish the dam."

"If we finish the dam," said Alfred seriously, "all the water will run in here and make it deeper."

"Well, then he can swim out. You can swim, can't you?"

"No, no, no," said the monk sadly. "I never learned."

"What a pity!" said Red, laughing.

"You ought to have learned to swim instead of learning so much Latin,"

cried Bert.

"There isn't time to learn everything, my boys," said the monk sadly.

"I'm obliged to try and teach you all: the King and Queen sent for me that I might. Please help me out."

"We're not going to," cried Bald. "Come along, boys. He ought to have learned to swim."

Bald began to move away, and the monk groaned again.

"Come along, Fred," cried Bert, and the monk turned his head sidewise so as to look piteously at the youngest boy.

"No, I'm not coming. I'm going to stop and help Father Swythe."

"Hah!" sighed the monk, and he squeezed Alfred's hand.

"No, you're not," cried Bald fiercely; "you're coming with us. Come along. He will not sink."

"I shan't come!" said Alfred st.u.r.dily.

"What? Here, boys, let's fetch him out."

There was a rush made towards where the boy stood knee-deep, and he s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand free from the monk's grasp, turned half-round, stooped a little, and as his eldest brother came wading in among the reeds he scooped up the water and saluted him with a heavy shower right in the face, drenching him so that he turned tail and hurried back, the other two laughingly backing out of reach.

"Oh, you!" shouted. Bald. "Come out, or I'll hold you right under the water till you can't breathe."

"Come along then," cried Alfred boldly, and he sent another shower of water after his brother, wetting him behind now. "You'll be just as wet as I shall first."

"You come out!"

"I shan't! You come here, if you dare!"

"Come and help me, boys," cried Bald; but the others only laughed.

"Come yourself, if you dare! Father Swythe will help me, and we'll duck you."

"Urrr!" growled Bald, stamping with rage. Then: "Never mind, boys: let them stop together. Give him a Latin lesson, Father Swythe."

"You stop a moment, all three of you," cried Alfred sharply. "You're not going away to leave Father Swythe like this. Go and fetch the big fir-pole that we laid across to begin the dam. If that's laid down here Father Swythe can pull himself out."

"Fetch it yourself!" cried Bald angrily. "We're not your serfs."

"I'm going to stop with Father Swythe," cried Alfred.

"Good boy! good boy!" whispered the monk.

"And look here," cried Alfred angrily: "it's cruel and wicked not to help him, and if you don't go I shall tell mother, and father will have you all punished severely."