Oliver soon recovered. The strong, manly caress of the pastor seemed to
revive him, even more than the water the others threw on his face. His
first word was "Mother."
"She is safe, my boy: and she will be well when I take you to her. Are
you alone here, Oliver?"
"Alone! O no! Don't let these men go and startle Mildred and the
rest--"
"Thank God!" exclaimed Pastor Dendel.
The two men who were with him seemed about to raise a shout, and wave
their hats, but the pastor forbade them by a gesture. He whispered to
Oliver,--
"Mildred, and who else, my dear? We know nothing, you are aware. Your
father--?"
"He was carried off in the mill,--out to the Humber--"
Oliver stopped, as he saw the men exchange a look of awe, which took his
breath away again.
"We have something like news of your father too, Oliver. There is a
rumour which makes us hope that he may be safe at a distance. Your
mother believes it, as she will tell you. Is it possible that you are
all alive, after such a calamity as this?"
"George is dead, sir. We buried him yesterday. Ailwin is here, with
Mildred and me; and Roger Redfurn."
One of the men observed that he had hoped, as one good that would come
of the flood, that the Levels were rid of the Redfurns.
"Do not say that," said Oliver. "Roger has helped us in many things;
and he was kind to little George. Let me go, sir. I can walk now very
well: and I want to tell them that you are come."
"Go, my boy: but do it gently, Oliver,--gently."
"That is what I want, sir,--that they should not see or hear you: for
Mildred is ill,--and Roger too. Please keep out of sight till I come
for you. So mother is safe,--really?"
"Really, and we will take you all to her."
Mildred, lying uncomfortably in the soaked cloth (for the rain had
penetrated everything), was yet dozing,--now and then starting and
calling out. Oliver took her hand, to wake her up, and asked her, with
a smile, as she opened her eyes, whether she was dreaming of a boat
again. Mildred believed not, but her head was sadly confused; so much
so, that she heard of the boat which had really come, and the pastor and
her parents, without showing any surprise or pleasure. Little ceremony
was necessary with the strong Ailwin; and one of the men made short work
with Roger, by lifting him and carrying him into the boat. Oliver said
a word to the pastor about seeing George's grave, and about the chest
and the money-bag which belonged to somebody who might want them much.
The pastor took charge of the bag, but declared that everything else
must be left for another trip, at a more leisure time. Mrs Linacre was
waiting,--and in what a state of expectation!
While the two stout rowers were pulling rapidly away from the Red-hill,
and in the direction of Gainsborough, the pastor explained to the party
what they most wanted to know. Mrs Linacre had heard some rumour which
alarmed her on the day of the flood, and had locked up her shed, and set
out homewards when the waters gushed over her road, and compelled her to
turn back. Like a multitude of others, as anxious and miserable as
herself, she had ever since been wandering about in search of a boat,
and imploring aid from every one she met.
For three days, it appeared as if there really were no boats in all the
district. Some had certainly been swamped and broken by the rush of the
flood: and there was great difficulty in bringing round from the coast
such as could there be had from the fishermen. Some farmers on the hill
had lent their oxen, to bring boats over the hills; and others, men to
row them; and this was in time to save many lives. What number had been
lost, it was impossible yet to say; but the cleverness and the
hopefulness with which a multitude had struggled for life, during five
days of hardship and peril were wonderful and admirable. Mrs Linacre
had trusted in the power which God gives his children in such extremity,
and had been persuaded throughout (except during short moments of
despair), that she should see her husband and children again. In this
persuasion she had been sustained by the pastor, from the moment of his
finding her, after his own escape.
Of his own escape the pastor would say nothing at present. The
children's minds were too full now for such tales of wonder and of
horror as they must hear hereafter. Neither would he permit a word on
the origin of the flood. He said they must think as little as they
could of the wicked deeds of men, in this hour of God's mercy. One
prayer, in every heart, that God would forgive all evil-minded men,--one
such prayer let there be; and then, no more disturbing thoughts of
enemies in the hour of preservation.
Oliver could not trust himself to ask, in the presence of strangers,
what the rumour was, which the pastor had mentioned, about his father.
The pastor was very apt to understand what was stirring in people's
hearts; and he knew Oliver's at this moment. He explained to him that a
sailor had declared, on landing at Hull, that the ship in which he was
had spoken with a Dutch vessel, off the Humber, in the night, by the
light of lanterns only, when a voice was heard, as if from the deck of
the Dutchman, crying out, "Will some one have the charity to tell the
wife of Linacre of the Levels that he is saved?" The sailors had some
fears about this voice--thought the message odd--fancied the voice was
like what they should suppose a ghost's to be; and at length, persuaded
one another that it came, not from any ship, but from the air overhead;
and that the message meant that Linacre was dead, and that his soul was
saved. When they came ashore, however, and found what had befallen the
Levels, they began to doubt whether it was not, after all, the voice of
a flesh and blood man that had called out to them. When the pastor now
heard how the miller was floated off in his mill, he had little doubt of
the good man having been picked up in the Humber, by a vessel sailing
for Holland, which could not stop to set him ashore, but which now
contained him, safe and well. Within two months, he would be heard of
or seen, it might fairly be hoped.
Mrs Linacre was kindly taken care of in a farm-house, near the spring--
that farm-house where she had often taken her copper money to be changed
for silver: but she had been little within doors, day or night. She had
paced all day by the brink of the flood; and as long as the moon was up,
had sat at night on a rising ground, looking over the waters towards the
Red-hill. She had discovered that the mill was gone, when other eyes
could distinguish nothing so far off. No one had a glass to lend her--
so, at least, it was said; but some whispered that a glass might have
been procured, but that it was thought she could see only what would
distress her, and nothing that could do her any good.
She was on the brink of the water when the boat came near. She would
have thrown herself in to meet her children, if a neighbour had not been
there to hold her back.
Oliver's first words to her were, that he believed his father was safe
on his way to Holland, and would soon be coming back. The pastor's
first words were, as he placed Mildred in her arms--
"Two children are here restored to you. Will you not patiently resign
your other little one?"
The speechless mother was hurrying away, with Mildred on her bosom, and
drawing Oliver by the hand, which she clasped convulsively, when he
said--
"Mother, help me to keep a promise I have made. Here is Roger Redfurn--
very ill. I promised we would not forsake him. Let him go with us,
till he is well."
"Whatever you will, my boy; but do not leave me, Oliver,--not for a
moment."
"Go on," said the pastor. "We are bringing Roger after you. We shall
be at home as soon as you."
"Home," was the friendly farm-house. There, before the end of the day,
had Oliver learned that his morning signal had been seen from the large
boat; and that the reason why the large boat had rowed away was, not
only that it was full, but that the waters were now too shallow about
the Red-hill for any but small craft. Before the end of the day Mrs
Linacre had been seen to look like herself once more; and Ailwin had
told to the wondering neighbours the tale of the few days, which seemed
now like years to look back upon. She told more than even Oliver had
observed of the miserable state of their place of refuge, which would
soon have been a place of death. Scarcely a breathing thing, she said,
was left alive: and, in going to the boat, she had seen the soaked
bee-hives upset, and the chilled bees lying about, as if there was no
spirit left in them. She shuddered when she thought of the Red-hill.
Then she stimulated the farm-house people to take care of Roger,--a task
in which Oliver left them little to do. They were willing enough,
however; for Ailwin told them that though Roger had been an odd boy in
his time, owing to his having been brought up by queer people, yet,
considering that those people were drowned and gone, and that Roger had
been noticed by a lord, she did not doubt he might turn out well, if it
so pleased God.
How closely did Mildred clasp her mother's neck that evening! Knowing
nothing else, and feeling very strangely, she yet understood that she
was in a place of shelter and comfort, and felt that her head rested on
her mother's bosom--on that pillow which has something so far better
than all warmth and softness. By degrees she began to be aware that
there was cool and fresh water, and sweet-smelling flowers, and that she
was tenderly bathed, and laid to rest on a bed which was neither wet nor
under a tree. There was a surprising silence all round her, she felt,
as she grew stronger, which no one yet attempted to explain to her; but
her mother smiled at her so happily, that she supposed she was
recovering.
Mrs Linacre did look happy, even in the midst of her tears for her poor
baby. Mildred _was_ recovering, Oliver ate and slept, and whistled
under the window--like a light-hearted boy, as he once again amused
himself with carving every piece of hard wood he could find. It was
clear that he had escaped the fever; and every day that refreshed his
colour, and filled out his thin face again, brought nearer the hour of
his father's return.