Page 16 of By Marsh and By Moor
“Let’s get Mrs Farley to come take a look.”
Their route back to the house took them across the open fields below the farmyard, and past a reed-fringed pond that had formed at the bend of the stream that ran behind the dairy.They were just crossing the grassy area between the pond and the chicken coops when raised voices reached them, coming from around the corner of the dairy.
“Dreadfully sorry to impose on you, ma’am.”It was a gentleman’s voice.
Solomon stopped in his tracks, grabbing Jed’s arm.
“What—” Jed began.
The colour had drained from Solomon’s face.He dragged Jed close, pressing a hand over his lips.
“It’s the press gang,” he mouthed, almost inaudible.
Jed froze.If they turned back the way they came, they would be crossing open fields, visible to anyone who stepped around the corner of the dairy.There was nowhere to hide, unless they crouched behind the chicken coops.
The gentleman was still speaking.“…heard reports of a seafaring man living up here on your farm.”
Jed looked around wildly.His gaze fell on the pond, with its overhanging bushes screening part of it from view.Solomon, with the same idea, was already dragging him towards it.They slipped in among the reeds, as silently as possible, until they were standing immersed up to their waists, clinging to a tree root, hidden from view by overhanging branches of dogwood.
The bare, leafless branches offered only a small space in which to hide, and the muddy pond bed was soft and yielding.Jed almost lost his footing.Quickly, he hooked one hand around a root and the other around Solomon’s waist, pulling him in and holding him in place under the bushes.
How had Solomon so quickly known that the gentleman they’d heard was with the press gang?But there was no time to worry about that now.Clinging to the dogwood root, Jed strained his ears to hear what was happening in the farmyard.The gangers must have come with a horse and cart.How many of them were there?
There came the crunching of feet on gravel, and someone rounded the corner of the dairy.He was a burly man, not in uniform.Through the branches, Jed could just make him out—and the wicked-looking cutlass in his belt.Jed stood perfectly still, Solomon’s frozen body pressed against his.
“It’s all open fields here, sir,” the man called.“No one in sight.”He disappeared from view, returning back the way he had come.
Still, Jed didn’t dare stir.
Finally, after a painfully long time, Mrs Farley appeared.With a hand above her eyes, she stood peering across the marsh with a worried air.Then she began to search around, poking through the long grass.
“Are you there, fellows?They’re gone.”
Jed let out a long, shuddering breath.He loosed his hold on Solomon, and they both hauled themselves out onto the bank.Jed found he was shivering: from the cold water or from the shock, he hardly knew.
“Are you sure they’re gone, ma’am?”
“My son followed them down as far as Baker’s Cross.They’ve gone off back to Minehead in their cart.”She hustled the two of them along.“Come along, come along, let me find you some dry clothes.Oh, those dogs!I thought they were going to press my Alfie, and he’s never set foot on a boat in his life.”
She bustled back towards the house, calling to them over her shoulder to hurry up.
Jed hung back, casting a sharp look at Solomon, who was still a pasty white, and shivering even worse than Jed was.
“How’d you know that gentleman was a ganger ere he said a thing about it?”
Solomon didn’t answer.
“Come along, boys,” Mrs Farley called.“Get them wet clothes off.I won’t have you dripping on my clean floor.”
“We’ve finished clearing the ditch,” Jed said as they joined her at the kitchen door.“We were on our way back to tell you that.And now I’d liefer be gone from here as soon as may be, so—”
“Yes, yes, Alfie will go out there with you as soon as you’ve dried off a bit.”She disappeared into the house, calling for Alfie, then reappeared shortly afterwards with blankets and old clothes.She thrust them into Solomon’s hands.“Go on, go and change in the barn.Oh, you are drenched, poor boys!”
As soon as she’d left them alone, Jed rounded on Solomon.“How did you know it was the press?”
Solomon was staring into the distance.He hadn’t spoken since they climbed out of the pond.“Fuck.Fuck, fuck,fuck.”His knuckles were white around the clothes clenched in his fists.
Jed was alarmed.“Wait.Come here.”He led Solomon off to one side, to a quiet corner of the yard.Under his hand, the muscles in Solomon’s arm were painfully tense.“Are you all right?What’s the matter?”
