Chapter XVI: A Terrible Plight

"OH, Jack, I wish we had never come," Theodore said dolefully, after his stepbrother had concluded his simple prayer.

"It's no good wishing that now, Theo."

"Of course it's not; but—but it's all my fault."

"Oh, no, it's mine too."

"No," Theodore protested, "you did not really want to come, and I—I am sorry I made you. I said you were a coward, but you're not, Jack. It's I who am the coward!"

"Indeed, you're not; you've heaps of pluck. But don't you think we ought to go on now? I'm ready."

"Very well. How dark it's getting. I do hope there'll be a moon to-night. But no I remember it was new moon only a few days ago, so if it does rise it won't give much light."

"Never mind. I daresay we shall find our way home somehow. If only we could manage to get into the main road. I suppose if we were real explorers we should not mind being lost. Oh, what's that?"

Both boys started in sudden fright as a dark object rushed past them in the dim light. It was only a pony, however, and in spite of their anxious position, they laughed the next moment at the shock the harmless creature had given them.

"Do you remember what John Bawdon told us about the Dartmoor fogs?" Theodore questioned presently, as they slowly descended the hill, proceeding more carefully now.

"Yes; but I don't think this blue mist is a fog. Do you?"

"I don't know; perhaps not. I wonder if they're back from Dartmeet yet? If so, don't you think father will come to look for us?" Theodore suggested in a more hopeful tone.

"But he won't know where we are," Jack responded with a deep-drawn sigh; "we did not tell anyone where we were going. He would never think of looking for us so far away from home."

Theodore's only answer to this reasoning was a burst of tears. Jack, greatly surprised and dismayed, tried in vain to comfort him. He had seen Theodore cry many times from different causes, such as disappointment or anger, but only on one occasion—that on which his stepbrother had been proved instrumental in setting the hay-rick on fire—had he heard him weep in such a heart-broken way as this. The truth was, Theodore's conscience was pricking him sorely, and telling him how wrongly he had acted in overcoming Jack's scruples, and insisting on this expedition without the knowledge of those set in authority over him.

His tears were not caused by fear, although he was naturally very frightened at the prospect of a night on the moor, but rather by remorse at the thought of his conduct. He determined that if they were so fortunate as to reach home in safety, he would take all the blame on his own shoulders. What would his stepmother say if any harm came to her son? Did she not look to him who was so much the stronger, to protect and care for the weaker boy?

"Oh, Theo, please don't cry like that," Jack implored in distressed accents. "I can't bear to hear you."

"Oh, Jack, I'm very wicked!" Theodore replied, striving hard to check his sobs. "I ought never to have brought you here. But I thought we should have such a grand time, and so we did until we found out we were lost. I suppose we took longer coming than we considered. I did not think it would be dark so soon. Did you?"

"No. We stopped a great many times, but that was my fault, not yours," Jack said, generously. "It's getting very dark, isn't it? Keep near me, Theo; won't you? Don't let us lose each other."

"No, no, that would be worst of all. Are you very tired, Jack?"

"I am, rather; but I'm all right. Look!"

Jack clutched Theodore excitedly by the arm. It was now nearly dark, so that distant objects were not discernible at all; but about a hundred yards from the spot where the boys stood was a twinkling light moving in the opposite direction.

"It's a man carrying a lantern!" Theodore cried joyfully. "Let us shout to him to stop."

They both shouted until they were breathless, but the light continued to move away from them. They followed as quickly as they could, hand in hand, so as not to lose each other in the gloom. Suddenly the light disappeared altogether, but the minute after it reappeared, and the boys shouted afresh.

They had now reached the bottom of the hill where the ground was much less uneven, but instead of being dry as it had been on the Tor, it was so soppy in places that their feet were soon very wet, and they shivered in the chill mist.

"Stop!" shouted Theodore, judging from the appearance of the light that it was at a greater distance from them than when they first saw it. "Oh, stop! Hi, you there! Hi! Oh, Jack, the man or whoever it is must be as deaf as a post. Oh, look out!"

The last exclamation was called from Theodore, as Jack gave a piercing scream on suddenly finding himself almost knee deep in mud. Fortunate was ft for him that his stepbrother held his hand, or otherwise he would certainly have brought his short career to a close that night in a Dartmoor bog. As it was, Theodore, as soon as he realised what was happening, tightened his hold on Jack, and with a mighty effort succeeded in pulling him safely on firmer ground. The two boys clung together in the darkness, whilst the misleading light still flickered in the distance, now disappearing altogether, now shining brighter than before.

"Hi, hi!" shouted Theodore once more.

"Oh, Theo," Jack said, with a shiver of horror, "I don't believe it's a man with a lantern after all!"

"But what is it, Jack?" Theodore asked in bewilderment "There it is again!"

"It must be a will-o'-the-wisp! Don't you know what that is? Mother told me; but I never thought I should see one!"

"I don't understand! What is a will-o'-the-wisp? It's a real light, I'm sure! Oh, Jack, you don't think we're pixie-led, do you?" And Theodore, who had been hearing tales of pixies and their elfish tricks from Mrs. Fry, who was fond of discoursing on moorland folk-lore, gave a superstitious shudder.

"No, no! It's a real light which comes over marshy ground! Mother said that people have often followed will-o'-the-wisps into bogs. Oh, Theo, I think that's what we've been doing! Supposing you hadn't been holding my hand just now, the bog would have sucked me in, and I should never have been found. Oh, I wish we could get away from this dreadful, dreadful place! Look, there are two lights! Oh, they must be will-o'-the-wisps!"

It was perfectly true. A second light had appeared, but the boys had no intention of following either now. Even in his terror, Theodore was lost in amazement of the will-o'-the-wisps; but he realised that they had made a great mistake in leaving the higher ground. Very slowly and cautiously they retraced their footsteps, as they thought, but actually they were moving in quite another direction. All at once a sound broke upon their ears, which sent a thrill of hope through each wildly beating heart. It was the cackling of a fowl, evidently disturbed in its sleep by the sound of voices close at hand.

"We must be near a house," Jack breathed in tones of relief, "Oh, how thankful I am!"

Groping their way in the darkness they discovered a hedge, and presently found a small gate, through which they passed into a kitchen-garden, in one corner of which was a little white-washed cottage, with a fowl-house adjoining.

The boys felt that the worst of their troubles must now be over, but what was their disappointment when they found the cottage door locked against them, and no light in any of the rooms. The cottage had evidently no one in it, for though they knocked and knocked, there was no sound from within.

"What shall we do?" Jack asked despairingly. "Had we better wait here, do you think?"

Theodore considered the matter in silence for a few minutes; then he remarked that the cottage was probably near a road, and if they could find it they would very likely come across someone.

"But don't let us go out the way we came," he said, "or perhaps we shall get into boggy land again. There ought to be another way out of the garden. Let me help you to climb up this hedge, Jack, and perhaps you may be able to see what's outside."

Jack willingly agreed to this proposition, and, with Theodore's assistance, succeeded in getting on the top of the hedge. Immediately, he uttered a cry of relief.

"We've come to a road," he informed his stepbrother joyfully; "I can see it quite plainly. I don't believe it's so dark as it was, either!"

"A road!" Theodore exclaimed. "That's splendid! Wait! I'm going to climb up to you! Yes, I think it is lighter; I believe the moon's rising."

Theodore spoke almost cheerfully, for if there was a road he knew it must lead somewhere; but the next moment he uttered a piercing shriek, followed by a groan of agony.

"Theo, Theo, what is it?" Jack asked in a fever of terror. "What have you done? Oh, Theo!"

But Theodore continued to groan without making any reply. Jack scrambled down the hedge and felt his way to his stepbrother's side. Then Theodore gasped:

"Don't touch me! Don't! don't!"

"Oh, tell me what is the matter!" Jack implored.

"I don't know! My left hand's caught in something! Oh, what shall I do? It's like something biting me! Don't touch it! If I move it's worse!"

"Let me see what it is!"

"You can't! Yes, take the matches from my pocket, and strike a light! Oh, Jack, quickly, quickly!"

Jack obeyed as fast as his trembling fingers allow him. After several vain attempts he succeeded in lighting a wax match, the sight which met his eyes turned him sick with horror. Theodore was leaning against the hedge with his left hand caught between the iron teeth of a fox-gin. The boys saw it was hopeless their trying to open the trap, for the least movement gave Theodore agonising pain. The iron chain attached to the gin was firmly secured to a stake, and no efforts on their part could unfasten it. Poor Theodore's hand was bleeding, and the pain he was suffering was turning him faint and dizzy.

"Oh, Jack!" he moaned, "what shall I do? Do you think I shall die?"

"No, no, Theo. Is it hurting you dreadfully?"

"Oh, yes!" Theodore assented with a bitter wail, which went to Jack's heart. "Oh, I wish father was here! Oh, Jack, can't you ask God to send some one to help us? And I'll ask Him too!"

Jack put his arms around his brother, whilst together in their despair they called upon their Father in heaven. Theodore's voice was growing weaker and weaker, but the feeling of faintness was deadening all sensation of pain. He lay against the hedge motionless when Jack removed his arms from around him, and gave no reply to his stepbrother's frightened request that he would speak to him.

Dreadfully alarmed though he was, Jack did not lose his head, as many boys would have done under the circumstances. There was still one match remaining in the box. This he cautiously lit, and by its feeble light saw that Theodore's eyes were closed, and his face perfectly colourless. For one moment he believed his stepbrother to be dead or dying; but the next, he thought that probably Theodore had only fainted, which was indeed the case.

Jack was the owner of a brave heart, so that after a moment's consideration he decided that he must go to seek assistance. He pressed a gentle kiss on Theodore's cheek; and then clambering up the hedge, dropped into the road on the other side. He did not know which way to go; but with a silent prayer to God to direct his footsteps, he turned to the right, and sped along as fast as his trembling limbs would carry him. He had not gone far before he came to two cross-roads, and after a slight hesitation, again took the right. By that time he was obliged to slacken his speed, for he was breathless and panting. He walked on slowly, holding his hand to his side, and praying that some one might be sent to help him. It was certainly growing lighter, he thought; and raising his eyes to the sky, he saw that the moon had arisen—a thin, silver crescent, it was true, but Jack felt less lonely at the sight.

How tired he was, and how heavy his feet seemed to be getting; they dragged as he walked. Oh, would no one ever come! To think of poor Theodore's pitiable plight all this while. Surely, soon he must reach some house, where he would find people willing to return with him to his stepbrother's assistance.

He struggled valiantly on, fighting against a strong desire to lie down and rest. At last, just as he was thinking that he could go no further, he heard sounds in the distance—carriage wheels, and the barking of a dog. Two lights appeared, coming towards him on the road, not will-o'-the-wisps this time, but the lamps of Mr. Fry's gig; and it was Help who was barking, as he bounded along by Boxer's side.

Jack exerted all his remaining strength, and shouted wildly; whilst Help jumped around him in delight, and old Boxer slackened his speed. The little boy ran forward as the gig stopped. He recognised the voices of Mr. Fry and his stepfather, and heard the latter exclaim: "Here they are, thank God!"

"Father—father!" Jack cried. "Oh, how glad I am!"

"Why, it's only one of them," Mr. Barton said in tones of misgiving, as he hastily dismounted from the gig. "Jack, is it you?"

"Yes, father," the little boy answered. "Theodore is not here. He is caught in a trap with such dreadful teeth! Oh, you must come quickly, or I am afraid he will die! Oh, poor Theo!"

And overcome with fatigue and fright, Jack threw himself into his stepfather's arms, and burst into a passion of tears and sobs.