"Two hundred yards or so, I should say," the fisherman replied. "We was
working behind a boat, but we could see over it well enough. Presently
we saw Master Horton come down, and stand alongside the others.

"I said to Simon, 'He is a good-looking young fellow, is the squire's
nephew,'" and the fisherman's eye twinkled with a grim humour, as he
glanced at Richard's swollen face.

"The boat got stuck, and Master Walsham threw something in close to it
to get it off. Then I see Master Horton stoop, and pick up a chunk of
stone, and chuck it hard; and it hit the boat and knocked it over. I
see the little girl turn round and say something to Master Horton, and
then she put her apron up to her face and began to cry. He gave her a
sort of shove, and she tumbled down into the edge of the pool.

"I says to Simon, 'What a shame!' but afore the words was out of my
mouth, Master Walsham he hits him, and hits him hard, too. Then there
was a fight, but Master Horton, he hadn't a chance with James, who gave
him as sound a licking as ever you see'd, and ending with knocking him
backwards into the pool. Then he gets up and shakes his fist at James,
and then goes off as hard as he could. That's all I know about it."

"It's a wicked lie," Richard burst out. "They have made it up between
them. There was nobody there."

"Hold your tongue, sir, I tell you," the squire said, so sternly that
Richard, who had risen from his seat, shrank back again and remained
silent; while Simon Harte gave his evidence, which was almost identical
with that of the other fisherman.