It was not a large hotel, and altogether it could not have housed more
than fifty guests. But in the dusk, as the girls from Merredith had
ridden over in the carriage, they could see that there were several
attractive cottages on the island. There was a deal of life about the
caravansary.
Now there was just time for Ruth Fielding and her friends to take a peep
in the mirror before running down at the sound of the dinner gong to
take the places Mrs. Holloway had pointed out to them in the dining
room.
The other guests came trooping in from the porches and from their
rooms--most of the matrons and young girls already in their party frocks,
like the girls from Merredith. Mrs. Holloway found an opportunity to
introduce the trio of friends to several people, while Nettie Parsons
was already known to many of the matrons present.
The affair was to begin early. Indeed, the girls heard the fiddles
tuning up before dinner was ended.
"Oh! hear that fiddle. Doesn't it make your feet fairly _itch_?" cried
Nettie. Nettie, like most Southern girls, loved dancing.
There were some Virginia reels and some square dances, and all, old and
young, joined in these. The reels were a general romp, it was true; but
the fun and frolic were of the most harmless character.
The master of ceremonies called out the changes in a resonant voice and
all--old and young--danced the square dance with hearty enjoyment. The
girls from the North had never seen quite such a party as this; but they
enjoyed it hugely. They were not allowed to be without partners for any
dance; and the boys introduced to Ruth and Helen were nice and polite
and--most of them--danced well.
"Learning to dance seems to be more common among Southern boys than up
North," Helen said. "Even Tom says he _hates_ dancing. And it's
sometimes hard to get good partners at the school dances at Briarwood."
"I think we have our boys down here better trained," said Nettie,
smiling.
The girls heard, as the time passed, several people expressing their
wonder that certain guests from the mainland had not arrived. The
dancing floor, which occupied more than half the lower floor of the
hotel, was by no means crowded, although every white person on the
island was in attendance--either dancing or looking on.
At the back, the gallery was crowded with blacks, their shining faces
thrust in at the windows to watch the white folk. In fact, the whole
population of Holloway Island was at the hotel.
The last few guests who had arrived from the cottages came under
umbrellas as it had begun to rain again. When the fiddles stopped they
could hear the drumming of the rain on the porch roofs.
"I'm glad we aren't obliged to go home to-night," said Nettie, with a
little shiver, as she stood with her friends near a porch window during
an intermission. "Hear that rain pouring down!"
"And how do you suppose the bridges are?" asked Helen.
"There! I reckon that's why those folks from the other shore didn't get
here," Nettie said. "I shouldn't wonder if the planks of the old bridge
had floated away."
"Whoo!" Helen cried. "How are _we_ going to get home?"
"By boat, maybe," laughed Ruth. "Don't worry. To-morrow is another day."
And just as she said this the hotel was jarred suddenly, throughout its
every beam and girder! The fiddles had just started again. They stopped.
For a moment not a sound broke the startled silence in the ballroom.
Then the building shook again. There was an unmistakable thumping at the
up-river end of the building. The thumping was repeated.
"Something's broken loose!" exclaimed Helen.
"Let's see what it means!" exclaimed Ruth, and she darted out of the
long window.
Her chum and Nettie followed her. But when they found themselves
splashing through water which had risen over the porch flooring, almost
ankle deep, Nettie squealed and ran back. Helen followed Ruth to the
upper end of the porch. The oil lamps burning there revealed a sight
that both amazed and terrified the girls from the North.
The river had risen over its banks. It surged about the front of the
hotel, but had not surrounded it, for the land at the back was higher.
In the semi-darkness, however, the girls saw a large object looming
above the porch roof, and it again struck against the hotel. It was a
light cottage that had been raised from its foundation and swept by the
current against the larger building.
Again it crashed into the corner of the hotel. The roof of the porch was
wrecked at this corner by the heavy blow. Windows crashed and servants
began to scream. Ruth clutched Helen and drew her back against the wall
as the chimney-bricks of the drifting cottage fell through the broken
roof of the veranda.