If it hadn't been for Claw I'd have dithered there for hours, but she suddenly darted away from me towards the sea, then turned and barked. I stared at her stupidly; she ran back to my side and then away in the same direction, as if she wanted me to follow. Still I hesitated, but the third time she came back she seized hold of my breeches and tugged violently, almost pulling me over. Then she growled and raced away again.
This time I followed her. It made sense, I told myself. She must have made this crossing many times with her master and she knew the way. I should trust her instincts and follow her. Perhaps if he'd set off recently she'd take me to where the sand guide was waiting.
I walked fast, heading south-east. The sky was brightening rapidly. If I could cross the sands and reach the mill safely, the salt moat would keep Morwena and her allies out. Not only that, she'd have to go the long way round to reach Arkwright's mill, which would take her a day at least. By then, with any luck, the Spook and Alice would have arrived. My master would know how best to defeat her.
When Claw and I reached the river Kent's channel, it was starting to rain and a thick mist was descending. There seemed plenty of water down there in the gully but it was impossible to tell how deep it was without testing it with my staff. Claw seemed to know what she was doing, however, and headed north, parallel with the bank. We followed the channel until it curved, at which point Claw barked, plunged down the slope and swam straight across. It was only about fifteen or sixteen paces to the other side. Holding my bag high, I tested the water with my staff before taking each careful stride. It was cold but the deepest part only came up to my thighs and I was soon across.
Feeling more confident now, I began to jog behind Claw. The wind was getting up and the rain was starting to drive harder from my left. The sea was somewhere to my right. I could hear waves crashing in the distance but the visibility was worsening by the minute and I couldn't see more than a few dozen yards ahead.
I walked on, but as the sea fog grew thicker, I began to feel more and more isolated. How many miles was it to the second river channel? I consoled myself with the thought that, once across, it wasn't more than half an hour or so to Hest Bank and safety. We walked and walked and I began to lose all track of time. The wind had been coming from my left but now it seemed to have changed direction, driving rain hard into my back. Or had we changed direction? I couldn't tell. Wherever I looked, all I could see was a wall of grey mist, but I felt sure the sound of the waves was getting louder. What if we were heading out to sea?
Were we lost? I'd been afraid of the witch, but in my desperation to escape, had I put too much faith in Claw? Even if she could guide us to the far shore, why had I believed that she could possibly know about the tides? It seemed to me that the tide had already turned, but by now it was too late to retrace my steps. The sea would be sweeping in fast down both channels to cut me off — the water would be too deep for me to wade across and the current would surely carry me away.
As I began to lose all hope, I looked down at the sand at my feet and saw something that restored my confidence in Claw. There were tracks there: horses' hooves and two parallel lines recently made by the wheels of a coach. I hadn't seen the coach set off but we seemed to have caught up with it. We were following the sand guide! Claw was leading me in the right direction after all.
But when we reached the next channel, I despaired again. The water in the channel looked deep and the current was strong, water surging from right to left. The tide was coming in fast now.
Again Claw followed the bank for some way, this time to the right, which worried me because I knew that was probably taking us nearer to the sea. Soon she plunged into the water and swam across. I clambered down the bank as before and waded in. There was less distance to cover this time — maybe only ten paces — but three steps in and the water was up to my waist. Two more and it was almost up to my chest, the fierce current starting to pull me over. I struggled on, my feet sinking into the soft sand at the bottom of the channel as I tried to keep my bag clear of the water.
Just when the water reached my neck and I thought I would be swept away, I found higher ground. A few more strides brought me out of the water and I clambered up the bank to safety. But my ordeal wasn't over yet. The tide was now racing in over the flat sands. The mist had lifted and I could see the shore but it still seemed a long way off. The first incoming wave swept over my boots; the second well over my ankles. Soon Claw was swimming and the water was almost up to my waist again. If I had to swim, I would lose my staff and my bag, which contained my silver chain.
I urged myself on as fast as I could and finally, miraculously, I reached the edge of the bay and collapsed onto the bank above, struggling for breath, my limbs trembling with exhaustion and fear.
I heard Claw give a warning growl and I looked up to see a man with a staff standing over me. For a second I thought it was a spook but then realized it was Sam Jennings, the sand guide.
'You're a fool, boy!' he growled. 'What possessed you to cross so late and without a guide? I brought a coach over well before first light. One of the horses went lame and we barely made it in time ourselves.'
'I'm sorry!' I said, stumbling to my feet. 'But I was being chased. I had no choice.'
'Sorry? Don't waste your time apologizing to me. Think of your family who'd be left behind to grieve — your poor mother who'd have lost a son. Who was chasing you?'
I didn't reply. I'd said enough already.
He looked me up and down, glancing warily at my bag and staff. 'Even if it were the Devil himself at your heels, you did a reckless thing, boy. Bill told me himself that he'd warned you about the dangers here. He's crossed the sands with me more times than I can remember. Why didn't you listen?'
I said nothing.
'Anyway, let's hope you've learned your lesson,' he continued. 'Look, my cottage isn't too far yonder. Come and dry yourself off. No doubt my wife could find you some hot food to warm your bones.'
'Thanks for the offer,' I said, 'but I've got to get back to the mill.'
'Off you go then, boy. But think on. Remember what I've told you. Too many have drowned out on those sands. Don't you be another!'
I set off, shivering in my cold, wet clothes. At least I was a day ahead of the witch, and with any luck Alice and the Spook would join me soon. I hadn't told the guide that Arkwright was dead because it involved too much spooks' business. It seemed to me Arkwright would be missed. For all his faults he'd done a good job protecting those in the north of the County, and people knew and respected him almost as part of the community.
I'd just had a dangerous encounter with the sea but the wetlands of the northern County weren't finished with me yet. In an attempt to save time, rather than heading directly for the canal and following it down towards the mill, I tried a more direct approach from the north. I skirted the Little Mere, heading for the path where I'd first faced Morwena. I thought I was well clear of the bog but I was wrong. One moment I was squelching along quite happily, the next my right boot began to sink into the soft ground.
The more I struggled, the worse it got, and the soft mud quickly climbed halfway to my knee. I started to panic but then took a deep breath to calm myself. My other foot hadn't sunk in very far and must be on firmer ground. So, taking my weight on my staff, very slowly I managed to drag my right leg clear. The boot freed itself with loud sucking sound and I almost overbalanced.
After that I was much more careful about where I put my feet. It had made me realize just how dangerous the marsh could be. At last I reached the path and pressed on more swiftly towards the mill.