For a day or two their new surroundings kept the children fully occupied in and about the farmyard, and the barns and orchards. Everything was new to them and delightful, from the pump in the yard, and the chickens, to the horses and wagons, the lofts with their smell of hay, the sweet-smelling wood-ricks, the cool dairy, the 'pound' where the cider was made. Then there were sheep-shearing, rat-hunting and countless other joys. But before very long the desire to wander further in search of adventure grew strong in Paul's breast. The children were left wonderfully free in those days, for, owing to their straitened means, Mrs. Anketell had determined to do without a nurse, and she was necessarily obliged to leave them much to themselves, and trust them not to get into any serious mischief.

But in the holidays no boy is quite as wise as he should be. Certainly Paul was not, when he determined to go and find out for himself if that morass was really as dangerous as Muggridge had said. Muggridge was the boy who had driven the cart, and Paul had begun to have a galling feeling that Muggridge had bean treating him as though he were a baby, which of course was a thing not to be tolerated for a moment. He must show him that he was a public-school boy, and had already seen more of the world than Muggridge was ever likely to.

It was Saturday morning, and every one in the house, excepting the children, seemed to be unusually busy and occupied. Stella and Michael sauntered out into the yard, and hung on the gate, swinging. Paul strolled out presently and joined them, but the amusement was not to his liking, so he went outside and stood in the road, and looked at the country.

"Let's go for a walk on the moor," he said presently; "there is nothing to do here, and it's looking jolly out there."

Stella and Michael, only too glad to be invited by their elder brother to join him, followed at once with a shout of joy. Paul looked back several times to make sure no one was watching them, but there were no windows at that end of the house, and everyone was busy. When they had gone a little distance they got off the road on to the soft turf at the side, and began running about here, there, and everywhere. "You had better see where you are going," said Paul; "they say there are morasses here that suck one in until one is gone right down, head and all."

Stella looked about her with wondering eyes, and seized Michael's hands. "What do they look like, Paul? Are they pools?"

"I don't know," said Paul, "I should think so."

"There aren't any here, then," she said eagerly, and with a sigh of relief, letting Mike go again. "I don't see any, do you, Paul?"

"Muggridge said there were, and that is why they go round by that silly old road; but I don't believe him, and I'm going to find out for myself. Perhaps he thinks I will swallow everything he chooses to tell me, and is trying to see how much he can take me in."

"Did he tell you not to go there?" asked Stella, nervously.

"No, he did not tell me any such thing. Why should he? I should like to see him dare to order me about. He just said that I had better not; but that was nothing. I'm sure he was only trying to gull me. He said anybody light could get across if they kept to the edge, and nobody could be much lighter than I am."

"But, Paul, you won't go?" pleaded Stella, anxiously. "Don't go, Paul! Please don't! you might be killed."

"Killed!" with terrific scorn. "You girls are such babies you are afraid of your lives to do anything for fear you will be killed, or hurt."

"I am not," said Stella proudly. "You would be frightened though if you got into one of those marshes, and were sucked down."

Paul grew more and more nettled, and defiant. "Anyhow, I am going right away at once to look for one, and that'll show if I am afraid or not. You babies can stay where you are." And he walked boldly forward.

Stella bore the taunt bravely, though her feelings were cruelly hurt, too deeply hurt to allow her to follow her brother and appear to be thrusting her society on him. So she remained where he had left her, tightly grasping Mike's hand as though to make sure that he at any rate came to no harm. For nearly half-an-hour Paul wandered about without finding himself on the dangerous spot, and the more he searched the more convinced he became that Muggridge had been laughing at him.

"Won't Farmer Minards be pleased when Paul tells him," said Michael after a long and anxious silence, and Paul had wandered about in all directions in safety. But before he had finished his sentence they saw Paul stagger as though he had stepped on something which had given way beneath his feet, try to recover himself, and stagger again. Stella jumped up instinctively and ran to him; even then she did not dream of the real danger he was in, until, as she flew towards him, his cry of "Help, help!" reached her. "Keep back'" he shrieked, as she came close. "It's the bog! My feet are stuck, I can't free them, Stella; what can I do? Help, help, help!"

Stella's heart stood still with fright. Paul was in the mud; it would suck him down till it closed over his head, unless some one saved him, and there was no time to be lost. What could she do, without a single creature there to help her? "Mike," she called, "run home as fast as ever you can, and tell them to come at once. Paul is in the bog, and it is sucking him down." The tears were trickling fast down her face, and at sight of them Michael began to cry too.

"Help, help!" called Paul again, then suddenly burst into tears. The mud was half-way up his legs now, and his attempts to free himself seemed only to hasten his fate. Inspiration came to Stella; in another moment she had torn off her big over-all apron. It was strong and wide. If Paul could reach it she might be able to pull him out by it. She threw it towards him, but, in her anxiety, threw it to one side; she tried again, but the breeze carried it away. The third time it reached him, and he caught it by the tips of his fingers, but the effort to reach it dragged him forward, and swaying, staggering, in his endeavours to steady himself he dragged poor Stella beyond her powers of resistance, and in another moment she was in the morass too, and, losing her balance, fell forward on her hands and knees. Their condition now was truly appalling. Paul grew frantic with alarm. "Pick yourself up, Stella, or crawl to the edge; you are quite close."

"I can't," she said in an awe-stricken whisper. She was too frightened to cry now; the fearfulness of the fate which seemed to await them partially numbed her senses. "I can't, Paul," she said in laboured tones; "the more I try the worse it is. I think we had better keep as still as we can. Poor mummie," she added presently, and at the thought of her mother's grief her tears did flow, but she kept quite still, though she saw that her hands had disappeared entirely, and her arms were fast being sucked down.