More than once during the long night, Roger heard strange sounds; and
Spy repeatedly raised his head, and seemed uneasy. Above the constant
flow of the stream, there came occasionally a sort of roar, then a
rumble and a splash, and the stream appeared to flow on faster. Once
Roger rose in the belief that the house,--the firm, substantial, stone
house,--was washed down. But it was not so. There was no moon at the
time of night when he looked forth; but it was clear starlight; and
there stood the dark mass of the building in the midst of the grey
waters. Roger vowed he would not get up from his warm rug again, on any
false alarm; and so lay till broad daylight, sometimes quite asleep, and
sometimes drowsily, resolving that he would think no more of uncle
Stephen, except in the day-time.
Soon after sunrise, however, a renewed rumble and splash roused him to
open his eyes wide. What he saw made him jump up, and run to the edge
of the precipice, to see all he could. The greater part of the roof of
the house was gone; and there were cracks in the solid stone walls
through which the yellow sunshine found its way. One portion of the
wall leaned in; another leaned out towards the water. At first Roger
expected to see the whole building crumble down into the stream, and
supposed that the inhabitants might be swept quite away. He gazed with
the strange feeling that not a creature might be now left alive in that
habitation.
Roger's heart sank within him at the idea of his own solitude, if this
were indeed the case. He had nothing to fear for his own safety. The
Red-hill would not be swept away. He could live as he was for a long
time to come; till some some steps should be taken for repairing the
damage of the flood; till some explorers should arrive in a boat; which
he had no doubt would happen soon. It was not about his own safety that
Roger was anxious; but it frightened him to think of being entirely
alone in such a place as this, with the bodies of all whom he knew best
lying under the waters on every side of him. If he could have Oliver
with him to speak to, or even little George, it would make all the
difference to him. He really hoped they were left alive. When he began
to consider, he perceived that the bridge-rope remained, stretched as
tight as ever. The chamber window, and indeed all that wall of the
house, looked firm and safe; and such roof as was left was over that
part. This was natural enough, as the violence of the flood was much
greater on the opposite side of the house than on the garden side. The
staircase was safe. It was laid open to view very curiously; but it
stood upright and steady: and, at length, to Roger's great relief,
Mildred appeared upon it. She merely ran up to fetch something from the
roof; but her step, her run and jump, was, to Roger's mind, different
from what it would have been if she had been in great affliction or
fear. In his pleasure at this, he snatched his cap from his head, and
waved it: but the little girl was very busy, and she did not see him.
It was odd, Roger said to himself, that the Linacres were always now
thinking of everything but him, when formerly they could never watch him
enough.
After a while he descended the bank, to fill his boiler with water. It
was necessary to do this for some time before drinking, in order that
the mud might settle. Even after standing for several hours, the day
before, the water was far from clear; and it was very far from sweet.
This was nothing new to Roger, however, who had been accustomed to drink
water like this as often as he had been settled in the carr, though he
had occasionally been allowed to mix with it some gin from his uncle's
bottle. He was thirsty enough this morning to drink almost anything;
but he did think the water in the boiler looked particularly muddy and
disagreeable. Spy seemed as thirsty as himself, and as little disposed
to drink of the stream as it ran below. He pranced about the boiler, as
if watching for an opportunity to wet his tongue, if his master should
turn his back for a minute.
The opportunity soon came; for Roger saw the bridge-basket put out of
the window by Ailwin; after which, Oliver got into it. Ailwin handed
him something, as he pulled away for the Red-hill. With a skip and a
jump Roger ran to the beach to await him.
"Pull away! That's right! Glad to see you!" exclaimed Roger. "Halloo,
Spy! Down, sir! Pleased to see you, Oliver."
Oliver was glad to hear these words. He did not know but that he might
have been met by abuse and violence, for having carried home the basket.
"Would you like some milk?" asked Oliver, as he came near.
"Ay, that I should," replied Roger.
"Leave yonder water to your dog, then, and drink this," said Oliver,
handing down a small tin can. "You must let me have the can, though.
Almost all our kitchen things floated out through the wall, at that
breach that you see, during the night. You must give me the can again,
if you would like that I should bring you some more milk this afternoon.
The poor cow is doing but badly, and we cannot feed her as we should
like: but she has given milk enough for George this morning, with a
little to spare for us and you. You seem to like it," he added,
laughing to see how Roger smacked his lips over the draught.
"That I do. It is good stuff, I know," said Roger, as he drained the
last drop.
"Then I will bring you some more in the afternoon, if there is any to
spare from poor George's supper."
"That's a pity. You've enough to do, I think. Suppose I come over.
Eh?"
"There is something to be said about that," replied Oliver, gravely.
"We do not want to keep what we have to ourselves. We have got a chest
of meal, this morning."
"A chest of meal!"
"Yes: a large chest, and not wet at all, except an inch deep all round
the outside. We caught it just now as it was floating by; and we should
like you to have some of it, as you have no bread here: but you know,
Roger, you kicked our poor cow when she was too weak to stand; and you
carried away our tinder-box when you knew we had no fire. We don't want
to have you with us to do such things: and so I think I had better bring
you some of the meal over here. And yet it is a pity; for the broth
that Ailwin is making will be very good."
"I'll come over," said Roger. "I am stronger than you, and I can help
you to feed the cow, and everything."
"I can do all that, with Ailwin to help: and I am sure Mildred had much
rather you should stay here, unless you behave differently. And poor
little George, too! He is not well, and we do not like that he should
be frightened."
"I sha'n't frighten him or anybody, you'll see. You had better let me
come; and Spy and I will bring you a lot of game."
"We don't want any game, at present. We have plenty to eat."
"You had better let me come and help you. I won't hurt George, or
anything. Come, I promise you you shan't repent doing me a good turn."
"Then you shall come, Roger. But do remember that Mildred is only a
little girl; and consider poor Geordie too; he is quite ill. You wont
tease him? Well, here's the line. Come as soon as you please, after I
am landed."
Oliver had been in the basket, out of reach, during this conversation.
He now flung down the basket line, and returned. Roger was not long in
following, with some of his game, some fire-wood, and his dog. He left
his bedding hidden in the thicket, and the tinder-box in a dry hole in a
tree, that he might come back to his island at any time, in case of
quarrel with the Linacres.
Poor little George did indeed look ill. He was lying across Mildred's
lap, very fretful, his cheeks burning hot, his lips dry, and his mouth
sore. Ailwin had put a charm round his neck the day before; but he did
not seem to be the better for it. Busy as she was, she tied on another
the moment she heard from Oliver that Roger was coming. When Roger and
the basket darkened the window, Ailwin and Mildred called out at once,
"Here he is!" George turned his hot head that way, and repeated, "Here
he is!"
"Yes, here I am! And here's what I have brought," said Roger, throwing
down two rabbits and a leveret. He took up the leveret presently, and
brought it to George, that he might feel how soft the fur was. The
child flinched from him at first, but was persuaded, at length, to
stroke the leveret's back, and play with its paws.
"That boy has some good in him after all," thought Ailwin, "unless this
be a trick. It is some trick, I'll be bound."
"You are tight and dry enough here," said Roger, glancing round the
room. "By the look of the house from the hill, I thought you had been
all in ruins."
The minds of Ailwin and Mildred were full of the events of the night;
and they forgot that it was Roger they were speaking to when they told
what their terrors had been. Ailwin had started up in the middle of the
night, and run to the door; and, on opening it, had seen the stars
shining bright down into the house. The roof of the other side of the
house was clean gone. When Mildred looked out from the same place at
sunrise, she saw the water spread almost under her feet. The floor of
the landing-place, and the ceiling of one of the lower rooms had been
broken up, and the planks were floating about.
"Where are they?" asked Roger, quickly. "To be sure you did not let
them float off, along with the kitchen things that got away through the
wall?"
Mildred did not know that any care had been taken of the planks. Roger
was off to see, saying that they might be glad of every foot of plank
they could lay their hands on.
Ailwin and Mildred saw no more of either of the boys during the whole
morning. They might have looked out to discover what was doing, but
that neither of them liked the sight of the bare rafters overhead, or of
the watery precipice at their feet. So Ailwin went on making cakes of a
curious sort, as she said; cakes of meal, made up with milk and water,
without either yeast or salt. They would not be spoiled by the water;
that was all that could be said for them. The water which was filtered
through gravel turned out quite good enough to be used in cooking, and
even for poor George to drink, so very thirsty as he was. While the
fowl simmered in the pot, and the cakes lay toasting on the hob, Ailwin
busied herself in making the beds, and then in rubbing, with her strong
arm, everything in the room, helping the floor, the walls, and the
furniture to dry from the wetting of yesterday. From the smell, she
said, she should have thought that everything in the house was growing
mouldy before her face. They were all aware that the bad smell which
they had observed yesterday, was growing worse every hour. Roger had
been much struck with it the moment he entered the window.
When the boys at length appeared, to say how hungry they were, they
burst in more like two schoolfellows who have been trying a new game,
than little lads on whom others were depending for subsistence in the
midst of a heavy calamity. They had made a raft--a real stout, broad
raft, which would be of more use to them (now the currents were
slackening) than anything they had attempted yet. Oliver told that
among the many things which the current brought from poor neighbour
Gool's, was a lot of harness from his stables. Roger had seen at once
what strong fastenings this harness would make for their raft. They had
then crossed to their own stable, and found their own suit of harness
hanging safe against the wall which remained. They had tied their
planks to three stout beams, which they had pulled out from the ruined
part of their house wall. It had been pretty hard work; but the raft
was secure, and well fastened, moreover, to a door-post, with a long
line; so that they might row about without having always to be looking
that they were not carried abroad into the carr. Oliver really thought
it was almost as good as having a boat. Roger protested that it was
better, because it would hold more goods: but the brother and sister
could not think that the raft was the best of the two, when they
remembered that a boat would carry them, perhaps, to their mother's
arms. Oliver knew what Mildred was thinking of when he said,--
"We must not dream of getting away on our raft, dear. It would upset in
the currents twenty times, between this place and the hills."
"Well, what of that?" said Roger. "Who wants to get to the hills? We
have got all we want for a good while here. We can take our pleasure,
and live as free as wild-ducks in a pond that nobody comes near."
Roger was quite in spirits and good humour. It may seem strange that a
boy who was so lazy the day before, as to wish that hares ran about
ready roasted, should work so hard this day at so severe a job as making
a raft. But it was natural enough. There is nothing interesting to a
dull and discontented person, all alone, in preparing a meal for his own
self to eat: but there is something animating in planning a clever job,
which can be set about immediately--a ready and willing companion being
at hand to help, and to talk with. There was also something immediate
to be gained by finishing this raft. One thing or another was floating
by every quarter of an hour, which it would be worth while to seize and
bring home. As Roger saw, now a hay-cock, and now a man's hat, float
by, he worked harder and harder, that as few treasures as possible might
be thus lost. Oliver felt much in the same way, particularly from his
want of a hat or cap. Ailwin had made him tie a handkerchief round his
head; but it heated him, without saving him much from the scorching of
the sun on his head, and the glare from the waters to his eyes.
Ailwin had looked for some compliments to her cookery from the hungry
boys; but they forgot, in their eagerness about the raft, that it was a
treat in these days to have meal-cakes; and they ate and talked, without
thinking much of what it was that they were putting into their mouths.
When they went off again to see what they could find, it is not to be
told how Mildred would have liked to go with them. She did not want her
dinner, to which Ailwin said they two would now sit down comfortably.
She did not now mind the precipice and the broken walls, and the staring
rafters. She longed to stand somewhere, and see the boys take prizes in
the stream. She had held poor George all the morning; for he would not
let her put him on the bed. Her back ached, her arms were stiff, and
her very heart was sick with his crying. He had been fretting or
wailing ever since daylight; and Mildred felt as if she could not bear
it one minute longer. Just then she heard a laugh from the boys
outside; and Ailwin began to sing, as she always did when putting away
the pots and pans. Nobody seemed to care: nobody seemed to think of
her; and Mildred remembered how different it would have been if her
mother had been there. Her mother would have been thinking about poor
George all the morning: but her mother would have thought of her too;
would have remembered that she must be tired; and have cheered her with
talk, or with saying something hopeful about the poor baby.
When Ailwin stopped her loud singing, for a moment, while considering in
which corner she should set down her stew-pan, she heard a gentle sob.
Looking round, she saw Mildred's face covered with tears.
"What's the matter now, dear?" said she. "Is the baby worse? No,--he
don't seem worse to me."
"I don't know, I'm sure. But, Ailwin, I am so tired, I don't know what
to do; and I cannot bear to hear him cry so. He has been crying in this
way all to-day; and it is the longest day I ever knew."
"Well, I'm sure I wish we could think of anything that would quiet him.
If we had only his go-cart, now, or his wooden lamb, with the white wool
upon it, that he is so fond of ... But they are under water below."
"But if you could only take him for a little while, Ailwin, I should be
so glad! I would wash up all your dishes for you."
"Take him! Oh, that's what you are at! To be sure I will; and I might
have thought of that before,--only I had my pans and things to put away.
I'll wash my hands now directly, and take him:--only, there is not much
use in washing one's hands: this foul damp smell seems to stick to
everything one touches. It is that boy's doing, depend upon it. He is
at the bottom of all mischief.--Ay, Mildred, you need not object to what
I say. After what I saw of him yesterday morning, with all that plague
of animals about him on the stairs, you will never persuade me that he
has not some league with bad creatures, a good way off. I don't half
like Oliver's being with him on the raft, in the stream there. That
raft was wonderfully ready made for two slips of boys."
"They had the planks ready to their hands," said Mildred, trembling;
"and leather harness and ropes to tie it with. I think they might to do
it as they said. What harm do you suppose will happen, Ailwin? I am
sure Oliver would do nothing wrong, about making the raft, or anything
else.--O dear! I wish George would not cry so!"
"Here, give him to me," said Ailwin, who had now washed her hands, and
taken off her cooking apron. "There, go you and finish the dishes, and
then to play,--there's a dear! And don't think about George, or about
Roger, and the raft, or anything that will vex you,--there's a dear!"
Ailwin gave Mildred a smacking kiss, as she received little George from
her; and, though Mildred could not, as she was bid, put away all vexing
thoughts, she was cheered by Ailwin's good-will.
She had soon done washing the few plates they had used, though she did
the washing with the greatest care, because it was her mother's best
china, brought from Holland, and kept in the up-stairs cupboard,--ready,
as it now seemed, to serve the present party, who must otherwise have
gone without plates and cups, their common sets being all under water,--
broken to pieces, no doubt, by this time.--George was already quieter
than he had been all day; so that Mildred felt the less scruple about
going out to amuse herself,--or rather, to watch her brother; for she
hardly dared to take any pleasure in the raft, after what Ailwin had
said; though she kept repeating to herself that it was all nonsense,
such as Ailwin often talked; such as Mrs Linacre said her children must
neither believe nor laugh at.
Mildred went at once to the top of the staircase, which stood up firm,
though the building had fallen away on almost every side of it. It was
rather a giddy affair at first, sitting on the top stair of a spiral
staircase of which part of the walls were gone, while the bare rafters
of the roof let the water be seen through them. Mildred soon grew
accustomed to her place, however, and fixed her eyes on the raft with
which the boys were plying in the stream. She supposed they had caught
a hay-cock; for the cow was eating, very industriously,--no longer on
the dunghill, but on a slip of ground which had been left dry between it
and the stable. The cow had company to share her good cheer: whether
invited or uninvited, there was no saying. A strange pony was there;
and a sheep, and a well-grown calf. These animals all pressed upon one
another on the narrow space of ground, thrusting their heads over or
under one another's necks, to snatch the hay.
"How hungry they are!" thought Mildred, "and how they tease one
another!" She then remembered having read of men starving in a boat at
sea, who became as selfish as these animals in snatching from one
another their last remaining morsels of food. She hoped that she and
Oliver should not be starved, at last, in the middle of this flood: but
if they were, she did not believe that Oliver and she could ever snatch
food from each other, or help themselves before Geordie, whatever Roger
might do, or even Ailwin. Ailwin was very kind and good-tempered; but
then she was apt to be so very hungry! However, there was no occasion
to think of want of food yet. The meal which had been wetted, round the
sides and under the lid of the chest, served well to feed the fowls; and
they seemed to find something worth picking up in the mud and slime that
the waters had left behind as they sank. The poor sow had farrowed too.
She and her little pigs were found almost dead with hunger and wet: but
the meal-chest had come just in time to save them. Ailwin had said it
was worth while to spare them some of the meal; for the little pigs, if
their mother was well fed, would give them many a good dinner. There
was no occasion to fear want of food at present.
The boys were on their raft in the middle of the stream, working away
with their broad paddles, evidently wishing to catch something which was
floating down. Mildred could see only a small tree bobbing about,
sometimes showing its roots above water, and sometimes its leafy
branches. What could they want with a young tree, so well off as they
were for drier fire-wood than it would make? They were determined to
have it, it was clear; for Roger threw down his paddle as they neared
the tree, caught up a long rope, and gave it a cast towards the
branching top as the rope went through the air, Mildred saw that it had
a noose at the end. The noose caught:--the tree gave a topple in the
water, when it found itself stopped in its course with a jerk; and the
boys set up a shout as they pulled for the house, hauling in their prize
after them.
Mildred ran down the stairs as far as she dared,--almost to the very
brink of the water. There she was near enough to see and hear what was
doing. The tree was an apple-tree; and though the ripest apples were
gone, a good many were left, which would be a treat when cooked. The
boys saw her watching them, and Roger said it was not fair that she
should stand idle while they were working like horses:--why should not
she gather the apples before they were all knocked off, instead of
keeping other people out of the stream to do such girls' work? Oliver
said she had been as useful as anybody all day; and she should do as she
liked now. He called out to Mildred; and asked her whether she should
like to gather the apples off the tree, while they went to see what else
they could find. Mildred replied that she should like it very much, if
they could bring in the tree to the place where she was. Ailwin would
find something for her to put the apples in.
Neither the raft nor the tree, however, could be got through the breach
in the wall. Oliver fetched the tub, which had been discarded since the
raft had been thought of. He rowed himself to the staircase in this
tub, and asked Mildred if she was afraid just to cross those few yards
to the wall. He would find her a nice seat on the wall, where she could
sit plucking the apples, and seeing all they did on the raft. He would
be sure to come, for her, as soon as she should make a signal for him.
Meantime, the tub would hold the apples.
Mildred had a great fancy for sharing the boys' adventures; and though
the tub looked a small, unsteady boat, she ventured to slide down into
it, and sit in it, while her brother rowed her over to the broken wall.
She was so silent that Oliver thought she was frightened; but she was
considering whether or not to tell him of Ailwin's fears of his being on
the raft with Roger. Before she had decided, they had come within
hearing of Roger, and it was too late.
After finding a steady broad stone in the wall for her to sit on, Oliver
chose to stay a little while, to cut and break off from the trunk the
branches that had the most fruit on them. This would make Mildred's
work much easier. Oliver also chose, in spite of all Roger could say,
to leave her one of their paddles. He considered (though he did not say
it) that some accident might possibly happen to the raft, to prevent
their returning for her: and he declared that Mildred should have an oar
to row herself in with, if she should have a mind to join Ailwin, at any
moment, instead of waiting where she was. So having moored the tub
inside the house wall, and the apple-tree outside, and established
Mildred on a good seat between, the boys pushed off again.
Mildred found that she had undertaken a wet and dirty task. The
branches of the apple-tree were dripping, and the fruit covered with
slime; but these are things which must not be minded in times of flood.
So she went on, often looking away, however, to wonder what things were
which were swept past her, and to watch the proceedings of the boys.
After a while, she became so bold as to consider what a curious thing it
would be if she, without any raft, should pick up some article as
valuable as any that had swum the stream. This thought was put into her
head by seeing something occasionally flap out upon the surface of the
muddy water, as if it were spread out below. It looked to her like the
tail of a coat, or the skirt of a petticoat. She was just about to fish
it up with her paddle, when it occurred to her that it might be the
clothing of a drowned person. She shrank back at the thought, and in
the first terror of having a dead body so near her, called Oliver's
name. He did not hear; and she would not repeat the call when she saw
how busy he was. She tried not to think of this piece of cloth; but it
came up perpetually before her eyes, flap, flapping, till she felt that
it would be best to satisfy herself at once, as to what it was.
She poked her paddle underneath the flap, and found that it was caught
and held down by something heavy. She tugged hard at it, and raised
some more blue cloth. She did not believe there was a body now; and she
laid hold of the cloth and drew it in. It was heavy in itself, and made
more so by the wet, so that the little girl had to set her foot against
a stone in the wall, and employ all her strength, before she could land
the cloth, yard after yard, upon the wall. It was a piece of home-spun,
probably laid out on the grass of some field in the Levels, after
dyeing, and so carried away. When Mildred had pulled in a vast
quantity, there was some resistance;--the rest would not come. Perhaps
something heavy had lodged upon it, and kept it down. Again she used
her paddle, setting her feet against one stone, and pressing her back
against another, to give her more power. In the midst of the effort,
the stone behind her gave way. It was her paddle now, resting against
some support under water, which saved her from popping into the water
with the great stone. As it was, she swayed upon her seat, and was very
nearly gone, while the heavy stone slid in, and raised a splash which
wetted her from head to foot, and left her trembling in every limb. She
had fancied, once or twice before, that the wall shook under her: she
was now persuaded that it was all shaking, and would soon be carried
quite away. She screamed out to Oliver to come and save her. She must
have called very loud; for Ailwin, with George in her arms, was out on
the staircase in a moment.
There was a scuffle on the raft. It seemed as if Oliver was paddling
with one hand, and keeping off Roger with the other. It was terrible to
see them,--it was so like fighting, in a most dangerous place. There
was a splash. Mildred's eyes grew dim in a moment, and she could see
nothing: but she heard Ailwin's voice,--very joyful,--calling out to
Oliver,--
"Well done, Oliver! Well rid of him! Pull away from him, Oliver! He
is full able to take care of himself, depend upon it. He was never made
to be drowned. Come and help Mildred, there's a dear! Never mind
Roger."
Mildred soon saw the raft approaching her, with Oliver alone upon it.
"Oh! Oliver, where is he? What have you done?" cried Mildred, as her
brother arrived at the wall.