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"Leave the wall, and put your arms round my neck. The change will rest me, and the water is already falling! It will go as rapidly as it came!"
"How do you know that?"
"It has sunk nearly a foot in the last fifteen minutes: I have been carefully watching it, you may be sure! It must have been a waterspout, and however much that may bring, it pours it out all at once."
"Oh!" said Christina, with a tremulous joyfulness; "I thought it would go on ever so long!"
"We shall get out of it alive!--G.o.d's will be done!"
"Why do you say that? Don't you really mean we are going to be saved?"
"Would you want to live, if he wanted you to die?"
"Oh, but you forget, Mr. Ian, I am not ready to die, like you!"
sobbed Christina.
"Do you think anything could make it better for you to stop here, after G.o.d thought it better for you to go?"
"I dare not think about it."
"Be sure G.o.d will not take you away, if it be better for you to live here a little longer. But you will have to go sometime; and if you contrived to live after G.o.d wanted you to go, you would find yourself much less ready when the time came that you must. But, my dear Miss Palmer, no one can be living a true life, to whom dying is a terror."
Christina was silent. He spoke the truth! She was not worth anything! How grand it was to look death in the face with a smile!
If she had been no more than the creature she had hitherto shown herself, not all the floods of the deluge could have made her think or feel thus: her real self, her divine nature had begun to wake.
True, that nature was as yet no more like the divine, than the drowsy, arm-stretching, yawning child is like the merry elf about to spring from his couch, full of life, of play, of love. She had no faith in G.o.d yet, but it was much that she felt she was not worth anything.
You are right: it was odd to hold such a conversation at such a time! But Ian was an odd man. He actually believed that G.o.d was nearer to him than his own consciousness, yet desired communion with him! and that Jesus Christ knew what he said when he told his disciples that the Father cared for his sparrows.
Only one human being witnessed their danger, and he could give no help. Hector of the Stags had crossed the main valley above where the torrent entered it, and coming over the hill, saw with consternation the flood-encompa.s.sed pair. If there had been help in man, he could have brought none; the raging torrent blocked the way both to the village and to the chief's house. He could only stand and gaze with his heart in his eyes.
Beyond the stream lay Mercy on the hillside, with her face in the heather. Frozen with dread, she dared not look up. Had she moved but ten yards, she would have seen her sister in Ian's arms.
The children sat by her, white as death, with great lumps in their throats, and the silent tears rolling down their cheeks. It was the first time death had come near them.
A sound of sweeping steps came through the heather. They looked up: there was the chief striding toward them.
The flood had come upon him at work in his fields, whelming his growing crops. He had but time to unyoke his bulls, and run for his life. The bulls, not quite equal to the occasion, were caught and swept away. They were found a week after on the hills, nothing the worse, and nearly as wild as when first the chief took them in hand.
The cottage was in no danger; and Nancy got a horse and the last of the cows from the farm-yard on to the crest of the ridge, against which the burn rushed roaring, just as the water began to invade the cowhouse and stable. The moment he reached the ridge, the chief set out to look for his brother, whom he knew to be somewhere up the valley; and having climbed to get an outlook, saw Mercy and the girls, from whose postures he dreaded that something had befallen them.
The girls uttered a cry of welcome, and the chief answered, but Mercy did not lift her head.
"Mercy," said Alister softly, and kneeling laid his hand on her.
She turned to him such a face of blank misery as filled him with consternation.
"What has happened?" he asked.
She tried to speak, but could not.
"Where is Christina?" he went on.
She succeeded in bringing out the one word "ruin."
"Is anybody with her?"
"Ian."
"Oh!" he returned cheerily, as if then all would be right. But a pang shot through his heart, and it was as much for himself as for Mercy that he went on: "But G.o.d is with them, Mercy. If he were not, it would be bad indeed! Where he is, all is well!"
She sat up, and putting out her hand, laid it in his great palm.
"I wish I could believe that!" she said; "but you know people ARE drowned sometimes!"
"Yes, surely! but if G.o.d be with them what does it matter! It is no worse than when a mother puts her baby into a big bath."
"It is cruel to talk like that to me when my sister is drowning!"
She gave a stifled shriek, and threw herself again on her face.
"Mercy," said the chief--and his voice trembled a little, "you do not love your sister more than I love my brother, and if he be drowned I shall weep; but I shall not be miserable as if a mocking devil were at the root of it, and not one who loves them better than we ever shall. But come; I think we shall find them somehow alive yet! Ian knows what to do in an emergency; and though you might not think it, he is a very strong man."
She rose immediately, and taking like a child the hand he offered her, went up the hill with him.
The girls ran before them, and presently gave a scream of joy.
"I see Chrissy! I see Chrissy!" cried one.
"Yes! there she is! I see her too!" cried the other.
Alister hurried up with Mercy. There was Christina! She seemed standing on the water!
Mercy burst into tears.
"But where's Ian?" she said, when she had recovered herself a little; "I don't see him!"
"He is there though, all right!" answered Alister. "Don't you see his hands holding her out of the water?"
And with that he gave a great shout:--
"Ian! Ian! hold on, old boy! I'm coming!"
Ian heard him, and was filled with terror, but had neither breath nor strength to answer. Along the hillside went Alister bounding like a deer, then turning sharp, shot headlong down, dashed into the torrent--and was swept away like a cork. Mercy gave a scream, and ran down the hill.
He was not carried very far, however. In a moment or two he had recovered himself, and crept out gasping and laughing, just below Mercy. Ian did not move. He was so benumbed that to change his position an inch would, he well knew, be to fall.
And now Hector began to behave oddly. He threw a stone, which went in front of Ian and Christina. Then he threw another, which went behind them. Then he threw a third, and Christina felt her hat caught by a bit of string. She drew it toward her as fast as numbness would permit, and found at the end a small bottle. She managed to get it uncorked, and put it to Ian's lips. He swallowed a mouthful, and made her take some. Hector stood on one side, the chief on the other, and watched the proceeding.