The Devil’s Due by Boucher, Rita (short books for teens .txt) 📕

his mouth. With one last powerful thrust, he burst into the surface. Chest heaving, he endeavored to turn himself to float face upward trying to filling his starved lungs in gulps.

“Maaajor . . .” Fred’s voice floated over the face of the loch.

Weakly, Duncan turned his head and swallowed almost as much water as air. The shore seemed miles away and his side was aching. Nonetheless, he began to swim.

“I’m comin’ to get you!”

From the splash that followed, it was clear that the damned fool actually meant to pull him in. Had he the strength, Duncan would have called out that he was on his way to shore.

“Over with. . . you.”

It was unnerving when Duncan felt a strong hand pushing him under. He was about to grab his tormentor by the neck when a particle of sense penetrated his panic. Fred. Forcing himself to relax, Duncan winced at the sharp pain in his scalp as Fred began to pull him toward shore, using hair as a tow-line. The current was working against them and it seemed an age before they finally reached the shingle.

“What in the devil . . .did you think . . . you was doin’?” Fred panted the question as he collapsed on the lee beside his master.

“The . . . backstroke?” Duncan answered weakly.

“Lucky . . .I’m . . . a Thames rat,” Fred coughed out the words. “Learn to swim real fast . . . you do. . . if your Pa tries to drown you. . . six nights out of seven.”

“You’re . . . a . . . veritable . . .Cockney Spaniel,” Duncan said, trying to catch his breath. “I . . . take it . . . that your father rested . . . on the seventh . . .day.”

“Drunk as a lord . . . by Sunday . . .” Fred smiled weakly, but the grin vanished as he raised himself on an elbow to gaze at his master, sprawled naked in the mud. The bantam shook his head in silence.

Duncan shuddered inwardly at Fred’s expression of quiet rebuke. He had expected a tongue lashing, a cesspool of sewer invective at the very least, but this wordless remonstrance was beyond bearing. “I was headed for shore,” Duncan explained.

Fred sighed.

“Why don’t you come out and just say it, Fred!” Duncan demanded. “Tell me that I am a careless idiot!” Shaking, Duncan drew himself up on hands and knees. “Tell me that I have skated too close to the edge once again. I would have been alright, Fred, I swear. All that was needed was a few minutes to catch my breath.”

Fred raised one hoary eyebrow, but said not a word.

“And so what if I hadn’t? You were a fool to go in after me,” Duncan said, his voice trembling. “I left a revised will with Dewey in Edinburgh. You would have been a wealthy man if you had let me drown, Fred. If I go, everything is yours. Far better you than the Crown.”

“Damn your bloody ‘ide!” Fred exploded, scrambling to his feet. “Ain’t got the sense the good Lord gave a flea!”

“I am touched by your gratitude!” Duncan said. “And, as usual, your judgement is entirely correct. I must have been muddled in the mind to think that you would want a blasted fortune.”

“If I’d ‘ave lived to enjoy it!” Fred retorted. “Just what did you think would ‘appen if you turned up drownded with a will like that one fresh made? Finger would be pointed at yours truly, sure as the Devil loves London. Lucky I come along when I did, seen you dive and not comin’ up . . .” The little man shivered, as much from the thought as from his wet clothing. “I’d ‘ave ended my days dancin’ from the nubbin cheat, like as not.”

It was chilling to realize that his man was quite probably right. Servants had swung on the noose for far less circumstantial evidence. “I am sorry, Fred, I hadn’t considered that,” Duncan said, chastened. “If you would prefer, I can alter the terms of the will.”

“Aye, Major. You can leave me a goodly sum if you’ve a mind to,” the servant said. “But not all. Wouldn’t be proper.”

“Nor, as you say, prudent,” Duncan added, with a touch of mockery. “How much of a sum would you deem ‘goodly’?”

“Enough so as not to give me no motervations.” Fred shook his head solemnly. “Long with what you owe me in me back pay and what I won off you in wagers, I’ll be well set.” He gave his master a long look. “Right soon too, with the way you seems to be bent on stickin’ your spoon in the wall. Between that horse of yours and runnin’ on the edge of death’s blade”

“What in blazes does that mean?” Duncan asked, indignantly hauling himself to his feet.

Fred just rolled his eyes heavenward.

“Just because there have been a few close calls of late does not mean that I am attempting to put a period to myself,” Duncan protested.

A harrumph of patent disbelief was his only answer. “I did break Selkie to saddle,” Duncan asserted. “Didn’t I? And got him for only half a guinea.”

“Damn near broke your neck, more like it,” Fred retorted. “And the beast’s master would of given ‘im away. Already killed a stable ‘and, and near bit a groom’s fingers off. And what about the dray, eh?”

“I didn’t see it coming,” Duncan maintained. Or had he?

“Just stood in the middle of the bleedin’ road! If I ‘adn’t ‘ave pulled you out of the way . . .”

“Yes, yes . . . I know full well what could have been,” Duncan said, his temper returning along with his ability to breathe. “You have saved my skin more times than I care to admit, Fred, but it was entirely accidental this time.”

“Aye.” The word could scarcely have been more skeptically delivered. “And last night when she could’ve blowed you to