"We shall see what father does," was still the consolation with which
Oliver kept down his sister's fears. He had such confidence in his
father's knowing what was best to be done on all occasions, that he felt
they had only to watch him, and imitate whatever he might attempt. They
remained quiet on the island now, hungry and tired as they were, because
he remained in the mill, and seemed to expect the water to subside. The
most fearful thought was what they were to do after dark, if they should
not get home before that. They supposed, at last, that their father was
thinking of this too; for he began to move about, when the sun was near
setting, more than he had done all the afternoon.
They saw him go carefully down into the stream, and proceed cautiously
for some way--till the water was up to his chin. Then he was buffeted
about so terribly that Mildred could not bear to look. Both Oliver and
Roger were sure, by what he ventured, and by the way he pulled himself
back at last to the steps, that he had tied himself by the rope they had
seen him measure. It was certainly too short for any good purpose; for
he had to go back, having only wetted himself to the skin. They saw
this by the yellow light from the west which shone upon the water. In a
few minutes they could distinguish him no longer, though the mill stood
up black against the sky, and in the midst of the gleaming flood.
"Father will be wet, and so cold all night!" said Mildred, crying.
"If I could only swim," exclaimed Oliver, "I would get over to him
somehow, and carry a rope from the house. I am sure there must be a
rope long enough somewhere about the yard. If I could only swim, I
would get to him."
"That you wouldn't," said Roger. "Your father can swim; and why does
not he? Because nobody could swim across that stream. It is a torrent.
It would carry any stout man out over the carr; and you would be no
better than a twig in the middle of it."
"I am afraid now this torrent will not slacken," said Oliver,
thoughtfully. "I am afraid there is some hollow near which will keep up
the current."
"What do you mean by that?"
"They say in Holland, where they have floods sometimes, that when water
flows into a hollow, it gets out in a current, and keeps it up for some
way. Oh! The quarry!" he cried, with sudden recollection. "Mildred,
let us go, and look what is doing on that side before it is dark."
They ran round the hill; and there they saw indeed that the flood was
tumbling in the quarry, like water boiling in a pot. When it rushed
out, it carried white earth with it, which made a long streak in the
flood, and explained how it was that the stream between the house and
the mill was whiter and more muddy than that between their hill and the
house. At once it occurred to Roger that the stream between the hill
and the house was probably less rapid than the other; and he said so.
Oliver ran back; and so did Mildred, pleased at the bare idea of getting
to the house.
Once more arrived opposite the house, they saw a strange sight. The
mill no longer stood in its right place. It had moved a good way down
towards the carr. Not only that, but it was still moving. It was
sailing away like a ship. After the first exclamation, even Roger stood
as still as death to watch it. He neither moved nor spoke till the mill
was out of sight in the dusk. When Mildred burst into a loud cry, and
Oliver threw himself down, hiding his face on the ground, Roger spoke
again.
"Be quiet--you must," he said, decidedly, to the little girl. "We must
bestir ourselves now, instead of stopping to see what other folks will
do."
"Oh, father! Father will be drowned!" cried they.
"You don't know that. If he drifts out to the Humber, which is likely,
by the way he is going, some ship may pick him up--or he may light upon
some high ground. We can't settle that now, however; and the clear
thing is that he wouldn't wish us to starve, whether he drowns or not.
Come, get up, lad!" said he, stirring Oliver with his foot.
"Don't lie there, Oliver; do get up!" begged Mildred.
Oliver rose, and did all that Roger bade him.
"You say there is a long rope somewhere about the house," said Roger.
"Where is it?"
"There is one in the cow-shed, I know."
"And if I cannot get there, is there one in the house?"
"In the lumber-room," said Mildred. "The spare bed is tied round and
round with a long rope--I don't know how long."
"I wish we had set about it an hour ago," muttered Roger, "instead of
waiting for dark. A pretty set of fools we have been to lose the
daylight! I say, lad, can you think of anyway of making a fire? Here
are sticks enough, if one could set them alight."
"To cook a supper?" asked Mildred.
"No; I mean to sup within doors; only we must do some work first."
Oliver had a steel knife; but it was too dark to look for a flint, if
any other plan than a fire would do.
"Well, don't plague any more about a fire," said Roger, "but listen to
me. Can you climb a tree? I'll be bound you can't: and now you'll die
if you can't."
"I can," said Oliver; "but what is Mildred to do?"
"We'll see that afterwards. Which of these trees stands nearest to the
nearest of yon upper windows?"
Oliver and Mildred pointed out a young ash, which now quite bent over
the water.
"That is not strong enough," said Roger, shaking the tree, and finding
it loosened at the roots. "Show me a stouter one."
A well-grown beech was the next nearest. Roger pulled Oliver by the
arm, and made him stand directly under the tree, with his sister beside
him. He desired them not to move from where they were, and to give a
loud halloo together, or a shriek (or anything that might be heard
furthest)--about once in a minute for an hour to come, unless they
should hear a rope fall into the tree, or anywhere near them. They were
to watch for this rope, and use all their endeavours to catch it. There
would be a weight at the end, which would make it easier to catch.
Oliver must tie this rope to the trunk of the tree, stretching it tight,
with all his strength, and then tying it so securely that no weight
would unfasten it.
"Mind you that," said Roger. "If you don't, you will be drowned, that's
all. Do as I tell you, and you'll see what you will see."
Roger then whistled for his dog, snatched Oliver's black ribbon from
about his neck, and fastened it round the dog's neck, to hold by. He
then showed the dog the house, and forced him into the water, himself
following, till the children could no longer see what became of them.
"What do you think he means?" asked poor Mildred, shivering.
"I don't know exactly. He cannot mean that we are to climb over by a
rope. I do not think I could do that; and I am sure you could not."
"Oh, no, no! Let us stay here! Stay with me under the trees, here,
Oliver."
"Why, it would be much more comfortable to be at home by the fire. You
are shivering now, already, as if it was winter: and the night will be
very long, with nothing to eat."
"But Roger is gone; and I don't like to be where he is,--he is such a
rude boy! How he snatched your ribbon, and pulled you about! And he
calls you `lad,' when he might just as well say `Oliver.'"
"We must not mind such things now, dear. And we must get home, if he
can show us how. Think how glad Ailwin and George will be: and I am
sure father would wish it, and mother too. You must not cry now,
Mildred; indeed you must not. People must do what they can at such a
time as this. Come, help me to shout. Shriek as loud and as long as
ever you can."
"I wish I might say my prayers," said Mildred, presently.
"Do, dear. Kneel down here;--nobody sees us. Let us ask God to save
father,--and us too, and George and Ailwin, if it pleases Him;--and
Roger."
They kneeled down, and Oliver said aloud to God what was in his heart.
It was a great comfort to them both; for they knew that while no human
eye saw them in the starlight, under the tree, God heard their words,
and understood their hearts.
"Now again!" said Oliver, as they stood up.
They raised a cry about once a minute, as nearly as they could guess:
and they had given as many as thirty shouts, and began to find it very
hard work, before anything happened to show them that it was of any use.
Then something struck the tree over their heads, and pattered down
among the leaves, touching Oliver's head at last. He felt about, and
caught the end of a rope, without having to climb the tree, to search
for it. They set up a shout of a different kind now; for they really
were very glad. This shout was answered by a gentle tug at the rope:
but Oliver held fast, determined not to let anything pull the precious
line out of his hand.
"What have we here?" said he, as he felt a parcel tied to the rope, a
little way from the end. He gave it to Mildred to untie and open; which
she did with some trouble, wishing the evening was not so dark.
It was a tinder-box.
"There now!" said Oliver, "we shall soon know what we are about. Do you
know where the tree was cut down, the other day?"
"Close by? Yes."
"Well; bring a lapful of chips,--quick; and then any dry sticks you can
find. We can get on twice as fast with a light; and then they will see
from the house how we manage."
In a few minutes, there was a fire blazing near the tree. The rope must
have come straight over from the house, without dipping once into the
water; for not only were the flint and steel safe, but the tinder
within, and the cloth that the box was done up in, were quite dry.
"Roger is a clever fellow,--that is certain," said Oliver. "Now for
fastening the rope. Do you take care that the fire keeps up. Don't
spare for chips. Keep a good fire till I have done."
Oliver gave all his strength to pulling the rope tight, and winding it
round the trunk of the beech, just above a large knob in the stem. It
seemed to him that the rope stretched pretty evenly, as far as he could
see,--not slanting either up or down; so that the sill of the upper
window must be about upon a level with the great knob in the
beech-trunk. Oliver tied knot upon knot, till no more rope was left to
knot. It still hung too slack, if it was meant for a bridge. He did
not think he could ever cross the water on a rope that would keep him
dangling at every move: but he had pulled it tight with all his force,
and he could do no more. When he had tied the last knot, he and Mildred
stood in front of the fire, and raised one more great shout, waving
their arms--sure now of being seen as well as heard.
"Look! Look!" cried Oliver, "it is moving;--the rope is not so slack!
They are tightening it. How much tighter it is than I could pull it!
That must be Ailwin's strong arm,--together with Roger's."
"But still I never can creep across that way," declared Mildred. "I
wish you would not try. Oliver. Do stay with me!"
"I will not leave you, dear: but we do not know what they mean us to do
yet. There! Now the rope is shaking! We shall see something. Do you
see anything coming? Don't look at the flashing water. Fix your eye on
the rope, with the light upon it. What do you see?"
"I see something like a basket,--like one of our clothes' baskets,--
coming along the line."
It was one of Mrs Linacre's clothes' baskets, which was slung upon the
rope; and Roger was in it. He did not stay a minute. He threw to
Oliver a line which was fastened to the end of the basket, with which he
might pull it over, from the window to the tree, when emptied of Roger.
He was then to put Mildred into the basket, carefully keeping hold of
the line, in order to pull it back for himself when his sister should be
safely landed. Ailwin held a line fastened to the other end of the
basket, with which to pull it the other way.
Oliver was overjoyed. He said he had never seen anything so clever; and
he asked Mildred whether she could possibly be afraid of riding over in
this safe little carriage. He told her how to help her passage by
pulling herself along the bridge-rope, as he called it, instead of
hindering her progress by clinging to the rope as she sat in the basket.
Taking care not to let go the line for a moment, he again examined the
knots of the longer rope, and found they were all fast. In a few
minutes he began hauling in his line, and the empty basket came over
very easily.
"How shall I get in?" asked Mildred, trembling.
"Here," said Oliver, stooping his back to her. "Climb upon my back.
Now hold by the tree, and stand upon my shoulders. Don't be afraid.
You are light enough. Now, can't you step in?"
Feeling how much depended upon this, the little girl managed it. She
tumbled into the basket, took a lesson from Oliver how to help her own
passage, and earnestly begged him to take care of his line, that nothing
might prevent his following her immediately. Then came a great tug, and
she felt herself drawn back into the darkness. She did not like it at
all. The water roared louder than ever as she hung over it; and the
light which was cast upon it from the fire showed how rapidly it was
shooting beneath. Then she saw Oliver go, and throw some more chips and
twigs on the fire; and she knew by that that he could see her no longer.
She worked as hard as she could, putting her hands one behind the other
along the rope: but her hands were weak, and her head was very dizzy.
She had had nothing to eat since breakfast, and was quite tired out.
While still keeping her eyes upon Oliver, she felt a jerk. The basket
knocked against something; and it made her quite sick. She immediately
heard Ailwin's voice saying, "'tis one of them, that's certain. Well!
If I didn't think it was some vile conjuring trick, up to this very
moment!"
The poor dizzy child felt a strong arm passed round her waist, and found
herself carried near a fire in a room. She faltered out, "Ailwin, get
something for Oliver to eat. He will be here presently."
"That I will: and for you first. You shall both have a drop of my
cherry-brandy too."
Mildred said she had rather have a draught of milk; but Ailwin said
there was no milk. She had not been able to reach the cow, to milk her.
What had poor little George done, then?--He had had some that had been
left from the morning. Ailwin added that she was very sorry,--she could
not tell how she came to be so forgetful; but she had never thought of
not being able to milk the cow in the afternoon, and had drunk up all
that George left of the milk; her regular dinner having been drowned in
the kitchen. Neither had she remembered to bring anything eatable
up-stairs with her when the flood drove her from the lower rooms. The
flour and grain were now all under water. The vegetables were, no
doubt, swimming about in the cellar; and the meat would have been where
the flour was, at this moment, if Roger, who said he had no mind to be
starved, had not somehow fished up a joint of mutton. This was now
stewing over the fire; but it was little likely to be good; for besides
there being no vegetables, the salt was all melted, and the water was
none of the best. Indeed, the water was so bad that it could not be
drunk alone: and again good Ailwin pressed a drop of her cherry-brandy.
Mildred, however, preferred a cup of the broth, which, poor as it was,
was all the better for the loaf--the only loaf of bread--being boiled in
it.
Just when Mildred thought she could stand at the window, and watch for
Oliver, Oliver came in at the window. He was not too tired to have his
wits about him, as Ailwin said;--wits, she added, that were worth more
than hers. He had brought over some dry wood with him,--as much as the
basket would hold; thinking that the peat-stack was probably all afloat,
and the wood-heap wetted through. All were pleased at the prospect of
keeping up a fire during this strange night. All agreed that the
bridge-rope must be left as it was, while the flood lasted. There were
wild animals and birds enough on the Red-hill to last for food for a
long while; and there alone could they get fuel.
"You can't catch game without my dog," cried Roger, surlily, to Ailwin;
"and my dog shan't put his nose to the ground, if you don't feed him
well: and he shall be where I am,--mind you that."
As he spoke, he opened the door to admit the dog, which Ailwin had put
out upon the stairs, for the sake of her pet hen and chicks which were
all in the room. The hen fluttered up to a beam below the ceiling, on
the appearance of the dog, and the chicks cluttered about, till Ailwin
and Mildred caught them, and kept them in their laps. They glanced
timidly at Roger, remembering the fate of the white hen, the day before.
Roger did not heed them. He had taken out his knife, forked up the
mutton out of the kettle, and cut off the best half for himself and his
dog.
Probably Oliver was thinking that Roger deserved the best they could
give him, for his late services; for he said,--
"I am sure, Roger, Mildred and I shall never forget,--nor father and
mother either, if ever they know, it,--what you have done for us
to-night. We might have died on the Red-hill but for you."
"Stuff!" muttered Roger, as he sat, swinging his legs, with his open
knife in his hand, and his mouth crammed,--"Stuff! As if I cared
whether you and she sink or swim! I like sport that's all."
Nobody spoke. Ailwin helped the children to the poor broth, and the
remains of the meat, shaking her head when they begged her to take some.
She whispered a good deal to Oliver about cherry-brandy; but he replied
aloud that it looked and smelled very good; but that the only time he
had tasted it, it made him rather giddy; and he did not wish to be giddy
to-night;--there was so much to think about; and he was not at all sure
that the flood had got to its height. He said no more, though his mind
was full of his father. Neither he nor Mildred could mention their
father to Ailwin to-night, even if Roger had been out of the way.
Roger probably thought what Oliver did say very silly; for he sat
laughing as he heard it, and for some time after. Half an hour later,
when Ailwin passed near him, while she was laying down a bed for Oliver,
so that they might be all together during this night of alarm, she
thought there was a strong smell of brandy. She flew to her bottle, and
found it empty,--not a drop left. Roger had drained it all. His head
soon dropped upon his breast, and he fell from his chair in a drunken
sleep. Mildred shrank back from him in horror; but Ailwin and Oliver
rolled him into a corner of the room, where his dog lay down beside him.
Ailwin could not refrain from giving him a kick, while he lay thus
powerless, and sneering in his face because he could not see her.
"Don't, Ailwin,--don't!" said Oliver. "Mildred and I should not have
been here now but for him."
"And I should not have been terrified out of my wits, for these two
hours past, nor have lost my cherry-brandy, but for him. Mercy! I
shall never forget his popping up his face at that window, and sending
his dog in before him. I was as sure as death that the flood was all of
their making, and that they were come for me, after having carried off
my master, and as I thought, you two."
"Why, Ailwin, what nonsense!" cried Mildred from her bed,--trembling all
over as she spoke. "How could a boy make a flood?"
"And you see what he has done, instead of carrying us off," observed
Oliver.
"Well, it is almost worth my cherry-brandy to see him lie so,--dead
drunk,--only it would be better still to see him really dead.--Well,
that may be a wicked thing to say; but it is not so wicked as some
things he has done;--and I am so mortally afraid of him!"
"I wish you would say your prayers, Ailwin, instead of saying such
things: and then, perhaps, you would find yourself not afraid of
anybody."
"Well, that is almost as good as if the pastor had preached it. I will
just hang up the chicks in the hand-basket, for fear of the dog; and
then we will say our prayers, and go to sleep, please God. I am sure we
all want it."
Oliver chose to examine first how high the water stood in the lower
rooms. He lighted a piece of wood, and found that only two steps of the
lower flight of stairs remained dry. Ailwin protested so earnestly that
the waters had not risen for two or three hours, that he thought they
might all lie down to sleep. Ailwin and he were the only ones who could
keep watch. He did not think Ailwin's watching would be worth much; he
was so tired that he did not think he could keep awake; and he felt that
he should be much more fit for all the business that lay before him for
the next day, if he could get a good rest now. So he kissed little
George, as he lay down beside him, and was soon as sound asleep as all
his companions.