The Settlers at Home Part 7

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 pa.s.sed 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 flower 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."

n.o.body 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 pa.s.sed 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 G.o.d. 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.

CHAPTER FIVE.

SUNRISE OVER THE LEVELS.

All the party slept for some hours, as quietly and unconsciously as little George himself. If the children were so weary that the dreadful uncertainty about their father's fate could not keep them awake, it is probable that a knowledge of their own danger might have failed to disturb them. But they had little more idea than George himself of the extent of the peril they were in. They did not know that the Levels were surrounded by hills on every side but towards the sea; or, if they knew, they did not consider this, because the hills were a great way off. But, whether they were far or near, this circle of hills was the cause of the waters rising to a great height in the Levels, when once the defences that had kept out the sea and the rivers were broken down.

As the hills prevented the overflowing waters from running off on three sides, it was clear that the waters must rise to the level of the sea and the rivers from which they flowed in. They had not reached this height when the children lay down to rest, though Ailwin was so sure that the worst was over; and the danger increased as they slept; slept too soundly even to dream of accidents.

The first disturbance was from the child. Oliver became aware, through his sleep, that little George was moving about and laughing. Oliver murmured, "Be quiet, George. Lie still, dear," and the child was quiet for a minute. Presently, however, he moved again, and something like a dabbling in water was heard, while, at the same moment, Oliver found his feet cold. He roused himself with a start, felt that his bed was wet, and turning out, was up to the ankles in water. By the light of the embers, he saw that the floor was a pond, with some shoes floating on it. His call woke Ailwin and Mildred at once. Roger did not stir, though there was a good deal of bustle and noise.

Mildred's bed was so high above the floor as to be still quite dry.

Oliver told her to stay there till he should settle what was to be done next: and he took up the child to put him with Mildred, asking her to strip off his drenched clothes, and keep him warm. All the apparel that had been taken off was luckily on the top of a chest, far above the water. Oliver handed this to his sister, bidding her dress herself, as well as the child. He then carefully put the fire together, to make as much light as possible, and then told Ailwin that they must bestir themselves, as the fire would presently be drowned out.

Ailwin was quite ready to bestir herself; but she had no idea beyond mounting on chests, chairs, and drawers; unless, indeed, she thought of the beam which crossed the ceiling, to which she was seen to cast her eyes, as if envying the chicks which hung there, or the hen which still slept, with her head beneath her wing, out of present reach of the flood.

Oliver disapproved of the plan of mounting on the furniture of the room.

It might be all very well, he said, if there were nothing better to be done. But, by the time the water would reach the top of the chests, it would be impossible to get out by the door. He thought it would be wisest to reach the roof of the house while they could, and to carry with them all the comforts they could collect, while they might be removed in a dry condition. Ailwin agreed, and was going to throw open the door, when Oliver stopped her hand.

"Why, Oliver," she cried, "you won't let one do anything; and you say, all the time, that there is not a minute to be lost."

Oliver showed her that water was streaming in at the sides of the door, a good way higher up than it stood on the floor. He said that the door was a defence at present,--that the water was higher on the stairs than in the room, and that there would be a great rush as soon as the door should be opened. He wished, therefore, that the bedding, and the clothes from the drawers, and all else that they could remove to the top of the house, should be bundled up, and placed on the highest chest of drawers, before the water should be let in. They must borrow the line from the clothes' basket, to tie round George's waist, that they might not lose him in the confusion. One other thing must be done: they must rouse Roger, or he might be drowned.

Ailwin was anxious that this last piece of duty should be omitted:--not that she exactly wished that Roger should be drowned,--at least, not through her means; but she, ignorant as she was,--had a superst.i.tious feeling that Roger and his family had caused this flood, and that he could save himself well enough, though he appeared to be sunk in a drunken sleep. She indulged Oliver, however, so far as to help him to seize the lad, neck and heels, and lay him, dripping as he was, upon the table.

Before the bedding and clothes were all tied up, the door of the room shook so as to threaten to burst in, from the latch giving way. It struck everybody that the person who should open it would run the risk of being suffocated, or terribly knocked about; and yet, it was hardly wise to wait for its bursting. Oliver, therefore, tied a string to the k.n.o.b of the bolt, then slipped the bolt, to keep the door fastened while he lifted and tied up the latch. The door shook more and more; so, having set the window wide open, he made haste to scramble up to where Mildred was, wound the cord which was about George's waist round his own arm, bade Mildred hold the child fast, and gave notice that he was going to open the door. It was a strange party, as the boy could not help noting at the moment,--the maid standing on the bed, hugging the bed-post, and staring with frightened eyes; Roger snoring on the table, just under the sleeping hen on the beam; and the three children perched on the top of a high chest of drawers. George took it all for play,-- the new sash he had on and the bolting the door, and the climbing and scrambling. He laughed and kicked, so that his sister could scarcely hold him. "Now for it!" cried Oliver.

"Oh, Oliver, stop a minute!" cried Ailwin. "Don't be in such a hurry to drown us all, Oliver. Stop a moment, Oliver."

Oliver knew, however, that the way to drown them all was to stop. At the first pull the bolt gave way, the door burst open, as if it would break from its hinges, and a great body of water dashed in. The first thing the wave did was to wash Roger off the table; the next, to put out the fire with a fizz,--so that there was no other light but the dawn, now advancing. The waters next dashed up against the wall opposite the door; and then by the rebound, with less force, against the drawers on which the children sat. It then leaped out of the window, leaving a troubled surface at about half the height of the room. Above the noise, Ailwin was heard lamenting, the chicks cluttering, the hen fluttering, and George laughing and clapping his hands.

"You have George safe?" said Oliver. "Very well! I believe we can all get out. There is Roger's head above water; and I don't think it is more than up to my neck; though everybody laughs at me for being a short boy."

He stepped down upon a chair, and then cautiously into the water. It was very nearly up to his chin.

"That will do," said he, cheerfully. "Now, Ailwin, you are the tallest;--please carry George out on the roof of the house, and stay there with him till I come."

Ailwin made many lamentations at having to step down into the water; but she took good care of the child, carrying him quite high and dry.

Oliver followed, to see that he was tied securely to the bal.u.s.trade on the roof. While he was doing this, Ailwin brought Mildred in the same way. Mildred wanted to be of use below; but her brother told her the best thing she could do was to watch and amuse George, and to stand ready to receive the things saved from the chambers,--she not being tall enough to do any service in four feet of water.

It was a strange forlorn feeling to Mildred,--the being left on the house-top in the cold grey morning, at an hour when she had always. .h.i.therto been asleep in bed. The world itself, as she looked round her, seemed unlike the one she had hitherto lived in. The stars were in the sky; but they were dim,--fading before the light of morning. There were no fields, no gardens, no roads to be seen;--only grey water, far away on every side. She could see nothing beyond this grey water, except towards the east, where a line of low hills stood between her and the brightening sky. Poor Mildred felt dizzy, with so much moving water before her eyes, and in her ears the sound of the current below. The house shook and trembled, too, under the force of the flood: so that she was glad to fix her sight on the steady line of the distant hills. She spoke to George occasionally, to keep him quiet; and she was ready to receive every article that was handed up the stairs from below: but, in all the intervals, she fixed her eyes on the distant hills. She thought how easy it would be to reach that ridge, if she were a bird; and how hard it would be to pine away on this house-top, or to sink to death in these waters, for want of the wings which inferior creatures had. Then she thought of superior creatures that had wings too: and she longed to be an angel. She longed to be out of all this trouble and fear; and considered that it would be worth while to be drowned, to be as free as a bird or an angel. She resolved to remember this, and not to be frightened, if the water should rise and rise, till it should sweep her quite away. She thought that this might have befallen her mother yesterday. No boat had been seen on the waters in the direction of Gainsborough; no sign had reached the family that any one was thinking of them at a distance, and trying to save them: and Oliver and Mildred had agreed that it was likely that Mrs Linacre had heard some report of the pulling up of the sluices, and might have been on her way home when the flood overtook and drowned her. If so, she might be now an angel.

If an angel, Mildred was sure her first thought would be, as it had ever been, of her home and her children; and the little girl looked up to see whether there was anything like the shadow of wings between her and the dim stars. She saw nothing; but still, in some kind of hope, she softly breathed the words, "O, mother! Mother!"

"Mother! Mother!" shouted little George, as he overheard her. Oliver leaped up the stairs, and inquired whether there was a boat,--whether mother was coming.

"No, Oliver, no. I was only thinking about mother; and so, I suppose, was George. I am afraid you are disappointed;--I am sorry."

Oliver bit his lip to prevent crying, and could not speak directly; but seemed to be gazing carefully all around the waste. He said, at last, that he had many times thought that his mother might come in a boat: and he thought she might still, unless...

"Unless she should be an angel now," whispered Mildred,--"unless she died yesterday; and then she might be with us now, at this very moment, though we cannot see her;--might not she?"