"Here, take hold of it," he cried.

Sir John endeavoured to obey the injunction, but he could not even
touch it, and he sank back again in despair.

"Why, man," laughed Sir George, "as I'm a Vernon, you know as well as
I do that thou canst never sink deep in two feet of mud."

The words roused De Lacey to struggle to his feet and attempt to
extricate himself. He staggered forward and advanced a foot or
two, but the slimy mud had such a determined hold of him that he
overbalanced himself, and fell forward at full length into the ditch.
This time, however, he was closer to the bank, and making another
effort, he grasped the pole which was still held out to help him.
Manners leaned forward, and pulled with all his might, but for some
time it was an open question whether he would go in or Sir John come
out.

At this critical juncture Dorothy arrived upon the scene of the
disaster. The sight of the old man's distress at once appealed to her
womanly nature, and she had but to murmur a word of pity, when, in a
moment, half-a-dozen knights leapt over to fulfil her unspoken wish.
With this accession of strength the captive was easily freed, and a
queer figure he was. It would have been difficult for a stranger to
have determined exactly what he was; for, covered as he was to the
depth of several inches with black mud, he looked more like an animal
of prehistoric times--such as we see represented by fossils--than any
human being.

De Lacey was promptly rolled upon the turf, and the pages set to work