The Settlers at Home

THE

PLAYFELLOW.

CONTAINING

rHE SETTLERS AT HOME.

fHE PEASANT AND THE PRINCE

FEATS ON THE FIORD.
THE CROFTON BOYS.

BY

HARRIET MARTINEAU

LONDON :

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,

THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
NEW YORK; 416, BROOME STREET,

CONTENTS.

THE SETTLERS AT HOME

THE PEASANT AND THE PRINCE 119

FEATS ON THE FIORD 245

THE CROFTON BOYS 381

THE SETTLERS AT HOME.

THE

SETTLERS AT HOME.

CHAPTER I.

Two hundred years ago, the Isle of Axholme was one of the
most remarkable places in England. It is not an island in the
sea. It is a part of Lincolnshire — a piece of land hilly in the
middle, and surrounded by rivers. The Trent runs on the east
side of it; and some smaller rivers formerly flowed round the
rest of it, joining the Humber to the north. These rivers carried
down a great deal of mud with them to the Humber, and the
tides of the Humber washed up a great deal of sea-sand into the
mouths of the rivers j so that the waters could not for some time
flow freely, and were at last prevented from flowing away at all :
they sank into the ground, and made a swamp of it — a swamp of
many miles round the hilly part of the Isle of Axholme.

This swamp was long a very dismal place. Fish, and water-
birds, and rats inhabited it : and here and there stood the hut of
a fowler ; or a peat-stack raised by the people who lived on the
hills round, and who obtained their fuel from the peat-lands in the
swamp. There were also, sprinkled over the district, a few very
small houses — cells belonging to the Abbey of St. Mary, at York.
To these cells some of the monks from St. Mary's had been fond
of retiring, in old times, for meditation and prayer, and doing
good in the district round ; but when the soil became so swampy
as to give them the ague as often as they paid a visit to these
cells, the monks left off their practice of retiring hither ; and their
little dwellings stood empty, to be gradually overgrown with green
moss and lank weeds, which no hand cleared away.

At last a Dutchman, having seen what wonders were done in
his own country by good draining, thought he could render this
district fit to be inhabited and cultivated ; and he made a bargain
with the king about it. After spending much money, and taking

B

The Settlers at Home.

great pains, he succeeded. He drew the waters off into new
channels, and kept them there by sluices, and by carefully
-watching the embankments he had raised. The land which was
left dry was manured and cultivated, till, instead of a reedy and
mossy swamp, there were fields of clover and of corn, and
meadows of the finest grass, with cattle and sheep grazing in large
numbers. The dwellings that were still standing were made into
farm-houses, and new farm-houses were built. A church here,
and a chapel there was cleaned, and warmed, and painted, and
opened for worship \ and good roads crossed the district into all
the counties near.

Instead of being pleased with this change, the people of the
country were angry and discontented. Those who lived near had
been long accustomed to fishing and fowling in the swamp, with-
out paying any rent, or having to ask anybody's leave. They had
no mind now to settle to the regular toilsome business of farming,
— and to be under a landlord, to whom they must pay rent.
Probably, too, they knew nothing about farming, and would have
failed in it if they had tried. Thus far they were not to be blamed.
But nothing can exceed the malignity with which they treated the
tenants who did settle in the isle, and the spiteful spirit which they
showed towards them, on every occasion.

These tenants were chiefly foreigners. There was a civil war
in England at that time : and the Yorkshire and Lincolnshire
people were so much engaged in fighting for King Charles or for
the Parliament, that fewer persons were at liberty to undertake
new farms than there would have been in a time of peace. When
the Dutchman and his companions found that the English were
not disposed to occupy the Levels (as the drained lands were
called), they encouraged some of their own countrymen to come
over. With them arrived some few Frenchmen, who had been
driven from France into Holland, on account of their being Pro-
testants. From first to last, there were about two hundred
famihes, Dutch and French, settled in the Levels. Some were
collected into a village, and had a chapel opened, where a pastor
of their own performed service for them. Others were scattered
over the district, living just where their occupations required them
to settle.

All these foreigners were subject to bad treatment from their
neighbours ; but the stragglers were the worst off; because it was
easiest to tease and injure those who lived alone. The dis-
appointed fishers and fowlers gave other reasons for their own
conduct, besides that of being nearly deprived of their fishing and
fowling. These reasons were all bad, as reasons for hating always
are. One excuse was that the new settiers were foreigners — as if

The Settlers at Home. 3

those who were far from their own land did not need particular
hospitality and kindness. Another plea was that they were con-
nected with the king, by being settled on the lands which he had
bargained to have drained : so that all who sided with the parlia-
ment ought to injure the new tenants, in order to annoy the king.
If the settlers had tried to serve the king by injuring his enemies,
this last reason might have passed in a time of war. But it was
not so. It is probable that the foreigners did not understand the
quarrel. At any rate, they took no part in it. All they desired
was to be left in peace, to cultivate the lands they paid rent for.
But instead of peace, they had little but persecution.

One of these settlers, Mr. Linacre, was not himself a farmer.
He supplied the fanners of the district with a manure of a par-
ticular kind, which suited some of the richest soils they cultivated.
He found, in the red soil of the isle, a large mass of that white
earth, called gypsum, which, when wetted and burnt, makes
plaster of Paris ; and which, when ground, makes a fine manure
for sprae soils, as the careful Dutchmen well knew. Mr. Linacre
set Uji a windmill on a little eminence which rose out of the
Level, just high enough to catch the wind ; and there he ground
the gypsum which he dug from the neighbouring patch or quarry.
He had to build some out-houses, but not a dwelling-house ; for,
near his mill, with just space enough for a good garden between,
was one of the largest of the old cells of the monks of St. Mary's,
so well built of stone, and so comfortably arranged, that Mr.
Linacre had little to do but to have it cleaned and furnished, and
the windows and doors made new, to fit it for the residence of his
wife and children, and a servant.

This building was round, and had three rooms below, and three
over them. A staircase of stone was in the very middle, winding
round, like a corkscrew, — leading to the upper rooms, and out
upon the roof, from w^hich there was a beautiful view, — quite as
far as the Humber to the north-east, and to the circle of hills on
every other side. Each of the rooms below had a door to the
open air, and another to the staircase; — very unlike modem
houses, and not so fit as they to keep out wind and cold. But
for this, the dwelling would have been very warm, for the walls
were of thick stone; and the fire-places were so large, that it
seemed as if the monks had been fond of good fires. Two of
these lower rooms opened into the garden ; and the third, the
kitchen, into the yard ; — so that the maid, Ailwin, had not far to
go to milk the cow and feed the poultry.

Mrs. Linacre was as neat in the management of her house as

people from Holland usually are ; and she did not like that the

sitting-room, where her husband had his meals, and spent his

B 2

4 Tlie Settlers at Home,

evenings, should be littered by the children, or used at all by
them during her absence at her daily occupation, in the summer.
So she let them use the third room for their employments and their
play. Her occupation, every summer's day, was serving out the
waters from a mineral spring, a good deal frequented by sick
people, three miles from her house, on the way to Gainsborough.
She set off, after an early breakfast, in the cool of the morning,
and generally arrived at the hill-side where the spring was, and
had unlocked her little shed, and taken out her glasses, and rinsed
them, before any travellers passed. It was rarely indeed that a
sick person had to wait a minute for her appearance. There she
sat, in her shed when it rained, and under a tree when it was fine,
sewing or knitting very diligently when no customers appeared,
and now and then casting a glance over the Levels to the spot
where her husband's mill rose in the midst of the green fields, and
where she almost fancied sometimes that she could see the
children sitting on the mill-steps, or working in the garden.
When customers appeared, she was always ready in a moment to
serve them ; and her smile cheered those who were sick, and
pleased those who came merely from curiosity. She slipped the
halfpence she received into a pocket beneath her apron; and
sometimes the pocket was such a heavy one to carry three miles
home, that she just stepped aside to the village shop at Haxey,
or into a farm-house where the people would be going to market
next day, to get her copper exchanged for silver. Since the times
had become so troubled as they were now, however, she had
avoided showing her money an3nvhere on the road. Her husband's
advice was that she should give up attending the spring altogether ;
but she gained so much money by it, and it was so likely that
somebody would step into her place there as soon as she gave it
up, so that she would not be able to regain her office when quieter
times should come, that she entreated him to allow her to go on
while she had no fears. She took the heavy gold ear-rings out of
her ears, wore a plainer cap, and left her large silver watch at
home ; so that she looked like a poor woman whom no needy
soldier or bold thief would think of robbing. She guessed by the
sun what was the right time for locking up her glasses and going
home ; and she commonly met her husband, coming to fetch her,
before she had got half way.

The three children were sure to be perched on the top of the
quarry bank, or on the mill-steps, or out on the roof of the house,
at. the top of the winding staircase. Little George himself, though
only two years old, knew the very moment when he should shout
and clap his hands, to make his mother wave her handkerchief
from the turn of the road. Oliver and Mildred did not exactly

The Settlers at Home. 5

feel that the days were too long while their mother was away, for
they had plenty to do ; but they felt that the best part of the day
was the hour between her return and their going to bed : and,
unlike people generally, they liked winter better than summer,
because at that season their mother never left them, except to go
to the shop, or the market at Haxey.

Though Oliver was only eleven, and Mildred nine, they were
not too young to have a great deal to do. Oliver was really
useful as a gardener; and many a good dish oi vegetables of his
growing came to table in the course of the year. Mildred had to
take care of the child almost all day ; she often prepared the
cabbage, and cut the bacon for Ailwin to broil. She could also
do what Ailwin could not, — she could sew a little ; and now and
then there was an apron or a handkerchief ready to be shown
when Mrs. Linacre came home in the evening. If she met with
any difficulty in her job, the maid could not help her, but her
father sometimes could; and it was curious to see Mildred
mounting the mill when she was at any loss, and her father wiping
the white plaster off his hands, and taking the needle or the
scissors in his great fingers, rather than that his little girl should
not be able to surprise her mother with a finished piece of work.
Then, both Oliver and Mildred had to learn their catechism, to
say to Fastor Dendcl on Sunday; and ahvays a copy or an
exercise on hand, to be ready to show him when he should call ;
and some book to finish that he had lent them to read, and that
others of his flock would be ready for when they had done.

Besides all this, there was an occupation which both boy and
girl thought more of than of all others together. Among the loads
of gypsum that came to the mill, there were often pieces of the
best kind, — lumps of real, fine alabaster. Alabaster is so soft as
to be easily worked. Even a finger-nail will make a mark upon
it. Everybody knows how beautiful vases and little statues, well
wrought in alabaster, look on a mantelpiece, or a drawing-room
table. Oliver had seen such in France, where they are very
common : and his father had carried one or two ornaments of
this kind into Holland, when he had to leave France. It was a
great delight for Oliver to find, on settling in Axholme, that he
could have as much alabaster as he pleased, if he could only work
it. With a little help from Pastor Dendel and his father, he soon
learned to do so ; and of all his employments, he liked this the
best. Pastor Dendel brought him a few bowls and cups of pretty
shapes and different sizes, made of common wood by a turner,
who was one of his flock ; and Oliver first copied these in clay,
and then in alabaster. By degrees he learned to vary his patterns,
and at last to make his clay models from fancies of his own, —

6 The Settlers at Home.

some turning out failures, and others prettier than any of
his wooden cups. These last he proceeded to carve out of
alabaster.

Mildred could not help watching him while he was about his
favourite work, though it was difficult to keep little George from
tossing the alabaster about, and stamping on the best pieces, or
sucking them. He would sometimes give his sister a few minutes'
peace and quiet by rolling the wooden bowls the whole length of
the room, and running after them : and there was also an hour,
in the middle of the day, when he went to sleep in his large Dutch
cradle. At those times Mildred would consult with her brother
about his work ; or sew or watch him by turns ; or read one of the
pastor's little books, stopping occasionally to wonder whether
Oliver could attend at once to his carving, and to what she was
reading. When she saw that he was spoiling any part, or that his
hand was shaking, she would ask whether he had not been at
work long enough \ and then they would run out to the garden or
the quarry, or to jump George (if he was awake again) from the
second millstep.

One fine month of August, not a breath of wind had been blow-
ing for a week or two, so that the millsails had not made a single

turn ; not a load of gypsum had been brought during the time,

and Oliver was quite out of alabaster ; though, as it happened, he
much wanted a good supply, for a particular reason. Every
morning he brought out his tools ; and every morning the sky was
so clear, the corn-fields so still — the very trees so silent, that he
wondered whether there had ever been so calm a month of August
before. His father and he employed their time upon the garden,
while they had so good an opportunity. Before it was all put in
order, and the entire stock of autumn cabbages set, there came
a breezy day; and the children were left to finish the cabbage
patch by themselves. While they were at work, it made them
merry to hear the mill-sails whirring through the air, and to see,
at intervals, the trees above the quarry bowing their heads, and
the reeds waving in the swamp, and the water of the meadow-
ponds dimpling and rippling, as the wind swept over the Levels.
Oliver soon heard something that he liked better still — the creak
of the truck that brought the gypsum from the quarry, and the
crack of the driver's whip.

He threw down the dibble with which he was planting out his
cabbages — tripped over the line he had set to direct his drilling,
tumbled on his face, scrambled up again, and ran, rubbing the
dirt from his knees as he went, to look out some alabaster firom
the load.

Mildred was not long after him, though he called to her that

TJie Settlers at Home. 7

she had better stay and finish the cabbages, and though Httle
George, immediately on feeling himself at liberty, threw himself
upon the fresh mould of the cabbage bed, and amused himself
with pulling up, and flinging right and left, the plants that had
just been set. How could Mildred attend to this, when she was
sure she was wanted to turn over the gypsum, and see what she
could find? So Master George went on with his pranks, till
Ailwin, by accident, saw him from the yard, ran and snatched him
up, flung him over her shoulder, and carried him away screaming,
till, to pacify him, she set him down among the poultry, which he
presently found more amusing than young cabbage plants.

" Now we shall have a set of new cups for the spring, presently,"
said Oliver, as he measured lump after lump with his little foot-
rule.

** Cups for the waters I " exclaimed his father. " So that is the
reason of this prodigious hurry, is it, my boy? You think tin
cups not good enough for your mother, or for her customers, or
for the waters. Which of them do you think ought to be ashamed
of tin cups ? "

" The water, most of all. Instead of sparkling in a clear bright
glass, it looks as nasty as it tastes in a thing that is more brown
and rusty every time it is dipped. I will give the folk a pair of
cups that shall tempt them to drink — a pair of cups as white as
milk."

" They will not long remain white : and those who broke the
glasses will be the more bent upon spoiHng your cups, the more
pains you spend upon them."

" I hope the Redfums will not happen to hear of them. We
need not blab ; and the folk who drink the waters go their way,
as soon as they have done.'*

" Whether the Redfurns be here or there, my boy, there is no
want of prying eyes to see all that the poor foreigners do. Your
mother is watched, it is my belief, every time she dips her cup ;
and I in the mill, and you in the garden. There is no hope of
keeping anything from our enemies."

Seeing Oliver look about him uneasily, Mr. Linacre reproached
himself for having said anything to alarm his timid boy : so he
added what he himself always found the most comforting thought,
when he felt disturbed at living among unkind neighbours.

" Let them watch us, Oliver. We do nothing that we n^^d.
be ashamed of. The whole world is welcome to know how we
live, — all we do, from year's end to year's end."

" Yes, if they would let us alone, father. Eut it is so hard to
have our things broken and spoiled ! "

" So it is ; and to know what ill-natured talk is going on about

8 The Settlers at Home.

us. But we must let them take their own way, and bear it as well
as we can ; for there is no help for it.*'

" I wish I were a justice ! " cried Mildred. " How I would
punish them, every one ! "

" Then I wish you were a justice, my dear ; for we cannot get
anybody punished as it is."

" Mildred," said Oliver, " I wish you would finish the cabbages.
You know they must be done ; and I am very busy."

" Oh, Oliver ! I am such a little thing to plant a whole cabbage
bed. You will be able to come by and by ; I want to help you."

" You cannot help me, dear : and you know how to do the
cabbages as well as anybody. You really cannot help me."

" Well, I want to see you then."

" There is nothing to see yet. You will have done, if you make
haste, before I begin to cut. Do, dear ! "

" Well, I will," replied Mildred, cheerfully. Her father caught
her up, and gave her one good jump down the whole flight of
steps, then bidding her work away before the plants were all
withered and dead.

She did work away, till she was so hot and tired that she had
to stop and rest. There were still two rows to plant; and she
thought she should never get through them,— or at any rate, not
before Oliver had proceeded a great way with his carving. She
was going to cry; but she remembered how that would vex
Oliver : so she restrained herself, and ran to ask Ailwin whether
she could come and help. Ailwin always did what everybody
asked her; so she gave over sorting feathers, and left them all
about, while she went down the garden.

Mildred knew she must take little George away, or he would
be making confusion among the feathers that had been sorted. She
invited him to go with her, and peep over the hedge at the geese
in the marsh; and the little fellow took her fore-finger, and
trotted away with his sister to the hedge.

There were plenty of water-fowl in the marsh ; and there was
something else which Mildred did not seem to like. While
George was quack-quacking, and making himself as like a little
goose as he could, Mildred softly called to Ailwin, and beckoned
her to the hedge, Ailwin came, swinging the great spade in her
right hand, as easily as Mildred could flourish George's whip.

" Look, — look there ! — under that bank, by the dyke I " said

Mildred, as softly as if she had been afraid of being heard at a
yard's distance.

" Eh ! look — if it be not the gipsies ! " cried Ailwin, almost as

loud as if she had been talking across the marsh. " Eh dear !

we have got the gipsies upon us now ; and what will become of

The Settlers at Home. 9

my poultry? Yon is a gipsy tent, sure; and we must tell the
master and mistress, and keep an eye on the poultry. Sure, yon
is a gipsy tent."

Little George, thinking that everybody was very much frightened,
began to roar \ and that made Ailwin talk louder still, to comfort
him ; so that nothing that Mildred said was heard. At last, she
pulled Ailwin's apron, so that the tall woman stooped down, to
ask what she wanted.

" I do not think it is the gipsies," said she. " I am afraid it is
worse than that. I am afraid it is the Redfums. This is just the
way they settle themselves — in just that sort of tent — when they
come to fowl, all autumn."

" If I catch that Roger," said Ailwin, " I'll ." And she

clenched her hand, as if she meant to do terrible things, if she
caught Roger.

" I will go and call father, shall I ?" said Mildred, her teeth
chattering, as she stood in the hot sun.

She was turning to go up the garden, when a laugh from George
made her look back again. She saw a head covered with an
otter-skin cap, — the face looking very cross and threatening,
peeping over the hedge, — which was so high above the marsh,
that the person must have climbed the bank on purpose to look
into the garden. There was no mistaking the face. It was cer-
tainly Roger Redfurn — the plague of the settlers, who, with
his uncle, Stephen Redfurn, was always doing all the mischief he
could to everybody who had, as he said, trespassed on the marshes.
Nobody liked to see the Redfurns sitting down in the neighbour-
hood ; and still less, skulking about the premises. Mildred flew
towards the mill ; while Ailwin, who never stopped to consider
what was wise, and might not, perhaps, have hit upon wisdom if
she had, took up a stone, and told Roger he had better be gone,
for that he had no friends here. Roger seemed to have just come
from some orchard ; for he pulled a hard apple out of his pocket,
aimed it at Ailwin's head, and struck her such a blow on the nose
as made her eyes water. While she was wiping her eyes with her
apron, and trying to see again, Roger coaxed the child to bring
him his apple again, and disappeared.

When Mildred reached the mill, she found Pastor Dendel there,
talking with her father about sending some manure to his land.
The pastor was so busy, that he only gave her a nod ; and she
had therefore time to recover herself, instead of frightening every-
body with her looks and her news at once. Oliver could not stay
in the house while the pastor was at the mill : so he stood behind
him, chipping away at the rough part of his work. Mildred
whispered to him that the Redfurns were close at hand. She saw

10 The Settlers at Home,

Oliver turn very red, though he told her not to be frightened.
Perhaps the pastor perceived this too, when he turned round, for
he said —

** What is the matter, children? Mildred, what have you been
doing, that you are so out of breath ? Have you been running
all the way from Lincoln spire ?"

" No, sir ; not running — but "

" The Redfurns are come, sir," cried Oliver. " Father, the
Redfurns are come."

"Roger has been peeping over the hedge into the garden,"
cried Mildred, sinking into tears.

The miller looked grave, and said here was an end of all peace,
for some time to come."

"Are you all at the mercy of a boy like Roger Redfurn," asked
the pastor, " so that you look as if a plague had come with this
fresh breeze?"

" And his uncle, sir."

" And his aunt," added Mildred.

*''You know what Stephen Redfurn is, sir," observed Mr.
Linacre. *' Roger beats even him for mischief. And we are at
their mercy, sir. There is not a magistrate, as you know, that
will hear a complaint from one of us against the country people.

We get nothing but trouble, and expense, and ridicule, by making
complaints. We know this beforehand \ for the triumph is always
on the other side."

*' It is hard," said the pastor : " but still, — here is only a man,
a woman, and a boy. Cannot you defend yourselves against
them ?"

" No, sir; because th6y are not an honourable enemy," replied
Mr. Linacre. " If Stephen would fight it out with me on even
ground, we would see who would beat : and I dare say my boy
there, though none of the roughest, would stand up against Roger.
But such fair trials do not suit them, sir. People who creep
through drains, to do us mischief, and hide in the reeds when we
are up and awake, and come in among us only when we are asleep,
are a foe that may easily ruin any honest man, who cannot get
protection from the law. They houghed my cow, two years ago.

sir."

ii

"And they mixed all mother's feathers, for the whole year,
exclaimed Mildred.

"And they bhnded my dog," cried Oliver; — "put out its
eyes."

" Oh ! what will they do next ? " said Mildred, looking up
through her tears at the pastor.

" Worse things than even these have been done to some of the

The Settlers at Home, 1 1

people in my village," replied the pastor : " and they have been
borne, Mildred, without tears."

Mildred made haste to wipe her eyes.

" And what do you think, my dears, of the life our Protestant
brethren are leading now, in some parts of the world ? "

" Father came away from France because he was ill-used for
being a Protestant," said Oliver.

"The pastor knows all about that, my boy," observed Mr.
Linacre.

" Yes, I do," said the pastor, " I know that you suffered worse
things there than here ; and I know that things worse than either
are at present endured by our brethren in Piedmont. You have a
warm house over your heads ; and you live in sunshine and plenty.
They are driven from their villages, with fire an d sword — forced to
shelter among the snow-drifts, and pent up in caves till they rush
out starving, to implore mercy of their scoffing persecutors. Could
you bear this, children ? "

" They suffer these things for their religion," observed Oliver.
" They feel that they are martyrs."

" Do you think there is comfort in that thought, — in the pride
of martyrdom, — to the son who sees his aged parents perish by
the wayside, — to the mother whose infant is dashed against the
rock before her eyes ? "

"How do they bear it all, then ?"

"They keep one another in mind that it is God's will, my
dears ; and that obedient children can, if they try, bear all that
God sees fit to lay upon them. So they praise His name with a
strong heart, though their voices be weak. Morning and night,
those mountains echo with hymns \ though death, in one form or
another, is about the sufferers on every side.

"My dear," said Mr. Linacre, "let us make no more complaints
about the Redfurns. I am ashamed, when I think of our brethren
abroad, that we ever let Stephen and Roger put us up to anger.
You will see no more tears here, sir, I hope."

" Mildred will not quite promise that," said the pastor, smiling
kindly on the little girl. " Make no promises, my dear, that a little
girl like you may be tempted to break. Only try to forgive all
people who tease and injure you ; and remember that nothing more
ever happens than God permits, — though He does not yet see fit
to let us know why."

*' I would only just ask this, sir," said Mr. Linacre. " Is there
anything going forward just now which particularly encourages our
enemies to attack us ? ''

" The parhament have a committee sitting at Lincoln, at pre-
sent ; and the king's cause seems to be low in these parts. We

1 2 The Settlers at Home.

are thus at the mercy of such as choose to consider us king's men ;
but there is a higher and truer mercy always about us."

The miller took off his hat in token of respect.

The pastor's eye had been upon Oliver for some time. He now-
asked whether he meant to make his new cups plain, like all the
rest, or to try to ornament them. Mildred assured him that
Oliver had carved a beading round the two last bowls that he
had cut.

" I think you might attempt something far prettier than bead-
ing," said the pastor ; " particularly with so many patterns before
your eyes to work by."

He was looking up at the little recess above the door of the
house, near which they were standing. This recess, in which
there had formerly been an image, was surrounded with carved
stone-work.

" I se&Some foliage there which would answer your purpose,
Oliver, if you could make a model from it. Let us look closer.'*

And Pastor Dendel fixed a short ladder against the house wall,
and went up, with Oliver before him. They were so busy select-
ing the figures that Oliver thought he could copy, and drawing
them upon paper, and then setting about modelling them in clay,
that the Redfurns did not prevent their being happy for this day,
at least. Mr. Linacre, too, was hard at work all day, grinding,
that the pastor's manure might be served to-morrow ; and he found
hard work as good for an anxious mind as those who have tried
generally find it to be.

CHAPTER II.

NEIGHBOURLY OFFICES,

•When Mrs. Linacre was told in the evening of the arrival of
the disagreeable neighbours who were in the marsh, she was
sorry ; but when she had gone round the premises with her hus-
band at night, and found all safe, and no tokens of any intrusion,
she was disposed to hope that the Redfurns would, this time, keep
to their fishing and fowling, and make no disturbance. Oliver and
Mildred crept down to the garden hedge at sunrise, and peeped
through it, so as to see all that was doing in the carr, as the marsh
was called.* After watching some time, they saw Stephen and
Roger creep out from under the low brown tent. As the almost
level sun shone full in their faces, they rubbed their eyes ; then

* In that part of the country, a carr means a morass.

The Settlers at Home. 1 3

they stretched and yawned, and seemed to be trying hard to wake
themselves thoroughly.

" They have been sound asleep, however/' observed Oliver to
his sister ; " and it is still so early, that I do not believe they have
been abroad about mischief in the night. They would not have
been awake yet if they had."

**Look! there is a woman!" exclaimed Mildred. "Is that
Nan?"

" Yes ; that is Nan Redfum, — Stephen's wife. That is their
great net that she has over her arm. They are going to draw the
oval pond, I think. We can watch their sport nicely here. They
cannot see an inch of us."

" But we do not like that they should watch us," said Mildred,
drawing back. " We should not like to know that they were peep-
ing at us from behind a hedge."

" We should not mind it if we were not afraid of them," replied
Oliver. " It is because they plot mischief that we cannot bear
their prying. We are not going to do them any mischief, you
know ; and they cannot mean to make any secret of what they
are doing in the middle of the carr, with high ground all about it."

Satisfied by this, Mildred crouched down, with her arm about
her brother's neck, and saw the great net cast, and the pond almost
emptied of its fish, — some (q^y being kept for food, and the small
fiy — especially of the stickleback — being thrown into heaps, to be

sold for manure.

** Will they come this way when they have done drawing the
pond ? " asked Mildred, in some fear, as she saw them moving

about.

" I think they will sweep the shallow waters, there to the left,
for more stickleback," replied Oliver. " They will make up a
load, to sell before the heat of the day, before they set about
anything else."

Oliver was right. All the three repaired to the shallow water,
and stood among the reeds, so as to be half hidden. The children
could see, however, that when little George came down the garden,
shouting to them to come to breakfast, the strangers took heed to
the child. They turned their heads for a moment towards the
garden, and then spoke together and laughed,

" There, now 1 " cried Oliver, vexed : " that is all because we
forgot to go to breakfast. So much for ray not having a watch .'
Mother need not have sent George to make such a noise ; but, if I
had had a watch, he would not have come at all ; and these people
would not have been put in mind of us.'*

" You will soon be able to have a watch now, like the boys in

Holland," said Mildred "Your alabaster things will change

14 The Settlers at Home.

away for a watch ; will not they ? But we might not have remer
bered breakfast, if you had had a watch."

" We are forgetting it now," said Oliver, catching up Georgi
and running to the house, followed by Mildred, who could not hel
feeling as if Roger was at her heels.

They were surprised to find how late it was. Their father wa
already gone with Pastor DendeFs load of manure. Their mothe
only waited to kiss them before she went, and to tell them tha
their father meant to be back as soon as he could ; and that
meantime, neighbour Gool had promised to keep an eye on th*
mill. If an57thing happened to frighten them, Oliver or Ailwir
had only to set the mill-sails agoing, and neighbour Gool and hi;
men would be with them presently. She did not think, however,
that anything would happen in the little time that their father would
be away,

" I will tell you what we will do ! " cried Oliver, starting from
his chair, after he had been eating his bread and milk, in silence,
for some time after his mother's departure. " Let us dress up a
figure to look like father, and set him at the mill-window ; so that
those Redfiims shall not find out that he is away. Won't that be
good ? "

" Put him on the mill-steps. They may not look up at the
window."

"The mill-steps, then. Where is father's old hat? Put it on
the broom there, and see how it looks. Run up to the mill, dear,
and bring his jacket — and his apron," he shouted as his sister ran.

Mildred brought both, and they dressed up the broom.

" That will never do," said Mildred. " Look how the sleeves
hang ; and how he holds his head I It is not a bit like a

man."

" 'Tis a good scarecrow," declared Ailwin. " I have seen many
a worse scarecrow than that."

" But this is to scare the Redfums, and they are far wiser than
crows," said Mildred. " Look how George pulls at the apron, and
tugs at the broomstick behind ! It does not scare even him."

" It will look very different on the steps — in the open air,"
Oliver declared. "A bunch or two oi straw in the sleeves, and
under the jacket, will make it seem all alive."

And he carried it out, and tied it upon the mill-steps. It was
no easy matter to fasten it so as to make it look at all like a man
naturally mounting stairs. The more difficult it was, however, the
more they all became interested in the business. Mildred brought
straw, and Ailwin tied a knot here, and another knot there, while
Oliver cocked the hat in various directions upon the head, till
they all forgot what they were dressing up the figure for. The

The Settlers at Home. 1 5

reason popped into Ailwin's head again, when she had succeeded
in raising the right arm to the rail, in a very Hfe-Hke manner.

" There ! " said she, stepping backwards to view her work, " that
makes a very good master for me. I will obey him in everything he
bids me till master comes home."

At the same moment, she walked backwards against something,
and little George clung screaming to Mildred's knees. Roger had
spread his arms for Ailwin to walk back into ; and Stephen was
behind, leaning against the cowshed. They had been watching all
that the party had been doing, and, having overheard every word,
had found out the reason.

The children saw at once how very foolish they had been ; and
the thought confused them so much, that they did not know what
to do next. Poor Ailwin, who could never learn wisdom, more
or less, now made matters worse by all she said and did. Stout
and strong as she was, she could do nothing, for Roger had
taken the hint she had given by walking backwards, with her
arms crossed behind her : he had pinioned her. She cried out
to Oliver to run up, and set the mill-sails agoing, to bring neigh-
bour GooL Stephen took this second hint He quietly swung
Oliver off the steps, sent down his scarecrow after him, and him-
self took his seat on the threshold of the mill. There he sat,
laughing to see how Ailwin wearied herself with struggles^ while
Roger, by merely hanging on her arms, prevented her getting
free. When, however, Oliver flew at the boy, and struck him
some fierce blows, Stephen came down, drove the little girl and
the baby into the house, and locked them in, and then went to
help Roger with his strong arm.

It was clear to Mildred what she ought to do. Crying as she
was, she put George in a comer, with some playthings, to keep
him from the fire till she came to him again, and then mounted
the stairs, as quickly as her trembling limbs would let her, — first
to her mother's room, and then out upon the roof. She tied a
large red handkerchief of her mother's upon her father's Sunday
walking-stick, and then waved it, as high as she could hold it,
above her head, while she considered how she could fasten it;
for it would never do to leave George alone below for many
minutes. Perhaps neighbour Gool had seen it already, and would
soon be here with his men. But, lest he should not, she must fix
her flag, and trust to Stephen and Roger not thinking of looking
up to the roof from the yard below. At last, after many attempts,
she thrust the stick into a crevice of the roof, and fixed it with
heavy things round it, — having run down three or four times, to
see that George was safe.

There was, indeed, no time .to be lost, for the intruders below

1 6 The Settlers at Home,

were doing all the mischief they could think of, short of robbing
and burning the premises. The great tall man, Stephen, strolling
about the lower rooms, found Mrs. Linacre's knitting, and pulled
out the needles, and unravelled the work. Roger spied a heap of
bulbs on the corner of a high shelf. They were Mr. Linacre's
rare and valuable tulip-roots, brought from Holland. Roger cut
one of them open, to see what it looked like, and then threw the
whole lot into the boiler, now steaming over the fire, saying the
family should have a dish the more at dinner to-day. They got
hold of Oliver's tools, and the cup he was at work upon, Stephen
raised his arm, about to dash the cup to the ground, when Oliver
sprang forward, and said —

" You shall have it, — you shall have my cup ; — ^you don't know
what a beauty it will be, when it is done. Only let me finish it,
and you shall have it in exchange for the stickleback you caught
this morning. The stickleback will do to manure our garden ;
and I am sure you will like the cup, if you will only let me
finish it."

'* Manure your garden, indeed ! " cried Stephen, gruffly. " I'll
cut up your garden to shreds first. What business has your garden
in our can* ? You and your great landlord will find what it is to

set your outlandish plants growing where our geese ought to be

grazing. We'll show you that we don't want any foreigners here ;
and if you don't like our usage, you may go home again ; and no-
body will cry for you back."

"We pay for our garden and our mill," said Oliver. "We
wrong nobody, and we work for our living, and you are a very
cruel man."

" You pay the king : and the parliament does not choose that
the king should have any more money to spend against them.
Mind you that, boy ! And ^"

" I am sure I don't know anything about the king and the
parliament, or any such quarrels,'' said Oliver, " It is very hard
to punish us for them, it is very cruel."

" You shall have reason to call me cruel twenty times over, if
you don't get away out of our carr," said Stephen. " Manure your
garden, indeed ! Not I ! And you shall not manure another yard
in these Levels. Come here, Roger."

They went out again into the yard, and Oliver, now quite over-
come, laid down his head on his arms, and cried bitterly.

"Here's your cup, however," said Ailwin, now released by
Roger's being employed elsewhere. " This bit of plaster is the
only thing they have laid hands on that they have not mined."

Oliver started up, and hid his work and tools in a bundle of
straw, in the comer of the kitchen.

The Settlers at Hotne. \ y

" What Mildred will say, I don't know," said Ailwin. " That
boy has wrung the neck of her white hen."

Oliver was desperate on hearing this. He ran out to see
whether he could not, by any means, get into the mill, to set the
sails agoing : but there were Stephen and Roger, carrying water,
which they threw over all the gypsum that was ground, — floating
away as much as they could of it, and utterly spoiling the rest, by
turning it into a plaster.

" Did you ever see the like ? " cried Ailwin. " And there is
nothing master is so particular about as keeping that stuff dry.
See the woman, too 1 How I'd like to tug the hair off her head !
She looks badly, poor creature, too."

Stephen's wife had, indeed, come up to enjoy the sport, when
she found that no man was on the premises, and that there was
no danger. There she stood, leaning against a post of the mill,
her black, untidy hair hanging about her pale, hollow cheeks, and
her lean arms crossed upon her bosom,

" There were such ague-struck folk to be seen at every tiun,"
said Ailwin, " before the foreigners came to live in the carr. I
suppose they brought some healing with them ; for one does not
often see now such a poor creature as that. She might be ashamed
of herself, — that woman ; she laughs all her poor sides can, at
every pailful Roger pours out. — Eh ! but she's not laughing now !
Eh ! what's the matter now ? "

The matter was that neighbour Gool was in sight, with three or
four men. A cheer was heard from them while they were still some
way off. Oliver ran out and cheered, waving his hat over his head.
Ailwin cheered, waving a towel out of the window. Mildred cheered
from the roof, waving her red flag ; and George stood in the door-
way, shouting and clapping his little hands.

If the object was to catch the trespassers, all this cheering took
place a little too soon. Stephen and Roger were off, like their
own wild ducks, — over the garden hedge, and out of sight
Neighbour Gool declared that if they were once fairly among the
reeds in the marsh, it would be sheer waste of time to search for
them; for they could dodge and live in the water, in a way
that honest people that lived on proper hard ground could not
follow. Here was the woman ; and yonder was the tent.
Revenge might be taken that way, better than by ducking in the
ponds after the man and boy. Suppose they took the woman to
prison, and made a great fire in the carr, of the tent and everything
in it!

Oliver did not see that it could make up to them for what they

had lost, to bum the tent ; and he was pretty sure his father would

not wish such a thing to be done. His father would soon be home.

c

1 8 The Settlers at Home.

As for the woman, he thought she ought to go to prison, if Mr.
Gool would take her there.

" That I will,'' said Gool. " I will go through with the thing
now I am in it I came off the minute I saw your red flag ; and
I might have been here sooner, if I had not been so full of watch-
ing the mill-sails, that I never looked off from them till my wife
came to help to watch. Come, you woman," said he to Nan Red-
fum, " make no faces about going to prison, for I am about to give
you a ride there."

" She looks very ill," thought Oliver, — " not fit to be jolted on
a horse."

*' You'll get no magistrate to send me to prison," said the woman.
" The justices are with the parliament, every one. You will only
have to bring me back, and be sorry you caught me, when you see
what comes of it."

" Cannot we take care of her here till father comes home?"
said Oliver, seeing that neighbour Gool looked perplexed, and as
if he believed what the woman said.

" No, no," said Mildred, whispering to her brother, " Don't
let that woman stay here."

" Neighbour Gool will take care of us till father comes home,"
said Oliver : " and the woman looks so ill 1 We can lock her

up here : and, you see, Ailwin is ever so much stronger than she
is, poor thing ! "

Neighbour Gool put on an air of being rather offended that
nothing great was to be done, after his trouble in coming to
help. In his heart, however, he was perhaps not very sorry ; for
he knew that the magistrates were not willing to countenance the
king's settlers in the Levels, while the Parliament Committee was
sitting at Lincoln. Gool patted Oliver's head when the boy
thanked him for coming ; and he joked Mildred about her flag:
so he could not be very cross. He left two men to guard the
prisoner and the premises, till Mr. Linacre should return.

These two men soon left off marching about the garden and
yard, and sat down on the mill-steps ; for the day grew very hot.
There they sat talking in the shade, till their dinners should be
ready. Nan Redfum was so far from feeling the day to be hot,
that when her cold ague-fit came on, she begged to be allowed to
go do\\Ti to the kitchen fire. Little George stood staring at her
for some time, and then ran away ; and Mildred, not liking to be
in the same room with a woman who looked as she did, and who
was a prisoner, stole out too, though she had been desired to
watch the woman till dinner should be ready. Ailwin was so
struck with compassion, that she fetched her warmest woollen
stockings and her winter cloak of linsey-woolsey, — it was such a

The Settlers at Home. 19

piteous thing to hear a woman's teeth chattering in her head, in
that way, at noon in the middle of August. Having wrapped
her up, she put her on a stool, close to the great kitchen fire ;
and drew out the screen that was used only in winter, to
keep off the draughts from the door. If the poor soul was not
warm in that corner, nothing co\ild make her so. Then Ailwin
began to sing to cheer her heart, and to be amazingly busy in
cooking dinner for three additional persons. She never left
off her singing but when she out went for the vegetables, and
other things she wanted for her cooking ; and when she came in
again she resumed her song, — still for the sake of the poor crea-
ture behind the screen.

"Do you feel yourself warmer now, neighbour?" said she at
the end of an hour. " If not, you are past my understanding."

There was no answer; and Ailwin did not wonder, as she
said to herself, that it was too great a trouble for one so poorly to
be answering questions : so Ailwin went on slicing her vegetables
and singing.

" Do you think a drop of cherry-brandy would warm you,
neighbour?" she asked, after a while, "I wonder I never
thought of that before ; only, it is a sort of thing one does not
recollect till winter comes. Shall I get you a sup of cherry-
brandy ? "

Ailwin thought it so odd that such an offer as this should not

be replied to, that she looked hastily behind the screen, to see
what could be the reason. There was reason enough. Nobody
was there. Nan Redfum had made her way out as soon as she
found herself alone, and was gone, with Ailwin's best winter
stockings and Hnsey-woolsey cloak.

In a minute the whole party were looking over the hedge into
the marsh. Nothing was to be seen but the low brown tent, and
the heap of httle fish. Neither man, woman, nor boy appeared
when their names were shouted forth.

" Oh I my best stockings ! " said Ailwin. half crying.

"You have saved your cherry-brandy, my woman, that is cer-
tain," observed one of GooFs men.

" I shall never have any pleasure in it," sighed the maid. " I
shall never enjoy it on account of its reminding me how yon
woman has fooled me."

" Then we will save you that pain," said the man. " If you
will obhge us with it to-day we won't leave any to pain you in the
winter."

" For shame," cried Oliver, " when you know she has lost her

stockings and her cloak already ! and all out of kindness ! I

would not drink a drop of her cherry-brandy, I am sure."

c 2

20 ' The Settlers at Home,

*' Then you shall, Oliver, for saying so, and taking my part,"
said Ailwin. " I am not going to give it to anyone else that has
not the ague ; some people may be assured of that."

" If I thought there was any cherry-brandy for me when I came
back," said the man, throwing a stone down to try the nature of
the bog-ground beneath, " I would get below there, and try what
I could find. I might lay hold of a linsey-woolsey cloak some-
where in the bog."

"You can never catch the Redfums, I doubt,'* said Ailwin
" What was it they said to you, Oliver, as they were going off?"

*' They laughed at me for not being able to catch eels, and
asked how I thought I should catch them. They said when I
could decoy wild-fowl, I might set a trap for the Redfurns. But
it does not follow that that is all tnie because they said it. I
don't see but they might be caught if there was anyone to do us
justice afterwards. That's the worst part of it, father says."

" There's father ! " cried Mildred, as the crack of a whip was
heard. All started off, as if to see who could carry bad news
fastest All arrived in the yard together, except Ailwin, who
turned back to take up George, as he roared at being left
behind.

" We must want a wise head or two among us," said the

vexed miller. " If we were as sharp as these times require, we
surely could not be at the mercy of folk we should scorn to be
like. We must give more heed and see what is to be done."

" Rather late for that, neighbour, when here is the stock you
were grinding and grinding for a week, all gone to plaster," said
one of Gool's men.

"That is what I say," replied the mUler, contemplating the
waste ; " but it may be better late than not at all."

Mrs. Linacre was more affected than her husband by what had
^happened. When she came home, poor Mildred's fortitude had
just given way, and she was crying over the body of her dear
white hen. This caused Ailwin's eyes to fill at the thought of her
stockings and cloak, so that the family faces looked cheerless
en ough.

" We deserve it all," said Mrs. Linacre, " for leaving oiu: place
and our children to the care of Gool's men, or of anybody but our-
selves. I will go no more to the spring. I have been out of my
duty; and we may be thankful that we have been no further
punished."

As she spoke a few tears started. Her tears were so rare,
that the children looked in dismay at their father.

He gently declared that the more injury they suffered firom the
country people the more they needed all the earnings they could

The Settlers at Home. 21

make. They must cling to the means of an honest maintenance,
and not tluow away such an employment as hers. He would not
leave the children again while the Redfurns were in the neigh-
bourhood. He would not have left them to-day, to serve anyone
but the pastor \ nor to serve even him, if he had not thought he
had bespoken sufficient protection. Nothing should take him
from home, or his eye off the children, to-morrow, she might
depend upon it.

Mrs. Linacre said that if she must go she should take a heavy-
heart with her. This was, she feared, but the first of a fresh
series of attacks. If so, what might not they look for next ?
However, she only asked to be found in her duty. If her hus-
band desired her to go, she would go ; but she should count over
the hours of the day sadly enough.

Oliver ventured to bring up an old subject. He said what he
most wanted was to have earned money enough to get a watch.
He was sure he could hide it so that Roger should never guess
he had one ; and it would be such a comfort to know exactly
how the time was going, and when to look for his mother home,
instead of having to guess, in cloudy weather, the hour of the
day, and to argue the matter with Aihvin, who was always wrong
about that particular thing.

His father smiled mournfully, as he observed, that he hoped
Oliver would never so want bread as to leave off longing for any-
thing made of gold or silver.

CHAPTER III

ONE WAY OF MAKING WAR.

Mrs. Linacre went to the spring as usual, the next morning.
If the weather had been doubtful — if there had been any pretence
for supposing that the day might not be fine, she would have
remained at home. But she looked in vain all round the sky for
a cloud : and the wide expanse of fields and meadows in the
Levels, with their waving com and fresh green grass, seemed to
bask in the sunshine, as if they felt its luxury. It was a glowing
August day ;— just such a day as would bring out the invalids
from Gainsborough to drink the waters; — just such a day as
would tempt the traveller to stop under the shady shed, where
he could see waters bubbling up, and taste of the famous
medicinal spring, which would cure the present evil of heat,
whatever effect it might have on any more lasting ailment. It

22 The Settlers at Home,

was just the day when Mrs. Linacre must not be missed from her
post, and when it would be wrong to give up the earnings which she
might expect before sun-down. So she desired her children not to
leave the premises, — not even to go out of their father's sight
and hearing ; and left them, secure, at least, that they would obey
her wishes.

They were quite willing to do so. Mildred looked behind her,
every few minutes, while she worked in the garden, to see
whether Roger was not there, and at every rustle that the birds
made among the trees on the Red-hill, — the eminence behind
the house, — she fancied that some one was hidden there. Oliver
let his tools and his alabaster lie hidden, much as he longed to be
at work with them. Mildred had lost her greatest treasure, — the
white hen. He must take care of his greatest treasure. Twice,
in the course of the morning, he went in, having thought of a
safer place ; and twice more he put them back among the straw,
as safest there after all. He let them alone at last, on Mildred
saying that she was afraid Roger might somehow discover why he
went in and out so often.

They ran to the mill three or four times to tell their father that
the brown tent was still under the bank in the carr, and that they

could see nobody ; though the wild-ducks and geese made such a

fluttering and noise, now and then, that it seemed as if some one
was lurking about the ponds. Often in the course of the morning,
too, did Mr. Linacre look out of the mill window, or nod to them
from the top of the steps, that they might see that he did not
forget them. Meantime, the white smoke curled up from the
kitchen chimney, as Ailwin cooked the dinner; and little George's
voice and hers were often heard from within, as if they were
having some fun together.

The children were very hot, and began to say that they were
hungry, and thought dinner-time was near, when they suddenly
felt a strong rush of wind from the west. Oliver lost his cap,
and was running after it, when both heard a loud shout from their
father, and looked up. They had never heard him shout so loud
as he now did, bidding them run up the Red-hill that moment.
He waved his arm and his cap in that direction, as if he was mad.
Mildred scampered up the hill. She did not know why, nor what
was the meaning of the rolling, roaring thunder which seemed
to convulse the air : but her head was full of Roger \ and she
thought it was some mischief of his. One part of the Red-
hill was very steep, and the ground soft. Her feet slipped
on the moss first, and when she had got above the moss,
the red earth crumbled ; and she went back at every step, till
she caught hold of some brambles, and then of the trunk of

The Settlers at Home. 23

a tree ; so that, trembling and panting, she reached at last the
top of the eminence.

When she looked round, she saw a rushing, roaring river where
the garden had been, just before. Rough waters were dashing up
against the hill on which she stood, — against the house, — and
against the mill. She saw the flood spreading, as rapidily as the
light at sunrise, over the whole expanse of the Levels. She saw
another flood bursting in from the Humber, on the north-east, and
meeting that which had just swept by; — she saw the two floods
swallowing up field after field, meadow after meadow, splashing

up against every house, and surrounding all, so that the roofs,
and the stacks beside them, looked like so many little islands.
She saw these things in a moment, but did not heed them till
afterwards, — for, where was Oliver?

Oliver was safe, though it was rather a wonder that he was so,
considering his care for his cap. Oliver was an orderly boy, ac-
customed to take great care of his things ; and it did not occur
to him to let his cap go, when he had to run for his life. He
had to part with it, however. He was flying after it, when
another shout from his father made him look round ; and then
he saw the wall of water, as he called it, rolling on directly
upon the house. He gave a prodigious spring across the garden
ditch, and up the hill-side, and but just escaped j for the wind
■^hicis. immediately preceded the flood blew him down ; and it
was clinging to the trunk oi a tree that saved him, as his sister
had been saved just before. As it was, his feet were wet
Oliver panted and trembled like his sister, but he was safe.

Every one was safe. Ailwin appeared at an upper window,
exhibiting little George. Mr. Linacre stood, with folded arms, in
the doorway of his mill ; and his wife was (he was thankful to
remember) on the side of a high hill, far away. The children and
their father knew, while the flood was roaring between them, what
all were thinking of; and at the same moment, the miller and his
boy waved, the one his hat, and the other a green bough, high
and joyously over their heads. Little George saw this from the
window, and clapped his hands, and jumped, as Ailwin held him
on the window sill.

" Look at Geordie !" cried Mildred. ^^ Do look at him !
Don't you think you hear him now?"

This happy mood could not last very long, however, as the
waters, instead of going down, were evidently rising every
moment. From the first, the flood had been too deep and
rapid to allow of the miller crossing from his mill to his house.
He was a poor swimmer ; and no swimmer, he thought, could
have avoided being carried away into the wide marsh, where

24 The Settlers at Home.

there was no help. Then, instead of the stream slackening, it
rushed more furiously as it rose, — rose first over the wall of the
yard, and up to the fourth — fifth — sixth step of the mill-ladder,
and then almost into the branches of the apple-trees in the
garden.

" I hope you will not mind being hungry, Mildred," said her
brother, after a time of silence. " We are not likely to have any
dinner to-day, I think."

*' I don't mind that, very much," said Mildred, " but how do
you think we are to get away, with this great river between us
and home?"

" We shall see what father does," said Oliver. " He is
further off still, on the other side."

" But what is all this water ? When will it go away?"

*' I am afraid the embankments have burst. And yet the
weather has been fine enough lately. Perhaps the sluices are
broken up."

Seeing that Mildred did not understand the more for what he
said, he explained —

" You know, all these Levels were watery grounds once ; more
wet than the carr yonder. Well, — great clay banks were made to
keep out the Humber waters, over there, to the north-east, and

on the west and north-west yonder, to keep two or three rivers
there from overflowing the land. Then several canals and ditches
were cut, to drain the land ; and there are great gates put up,
here and there, to let the waters in and out, as they are wanted.
I am afraid those gates are gone, or the clay banks broken down,
so that the sea and the rivers are pouring in all the water they
have."

" But when will it be over? Will it ever run off again ? Shall
we ever get home again ?"

" I do not know anything about it. We must wait, and watch
what father will do. See ! what is this coming?"

" A dead horse ! " exclaimed Mildred. " Drowned, I suppose.
Don't you think so, Oliver?"

" Drowned, of course. — Do you know, Mildred," he continued,
after a silence, during which he was looking towards the sheds in
the yard, while his sister's eyes were following the body of the
horse as it was swept along, now whirled round in an eddy, and
now going clear over the hedge into the carr, — " do you know,
Mildred," said Oliver, " I think father will be completely ruined
by this flood."

" Do you?" said Mildred, who did not quite know what it was
to be ruined. " How ? Why ?"

"Why, it was bad enough that so much gypsum was spoiled

The Settlers at Home. 25

yesterday. I am afraid now the whole quarry will be spoiled.
And then I doubt whether the harvest will not be ruined all
through the Levels : and I am pretty sure nothing will be growing
in the garden when the waters are gone. That was not our horse
that went by \ but our horse may be drowned, and the cow, and
the sow, and everything."

" Not the fowls," said Mildred. " Look at them, all in a row
on the top of the cow-shed. They will not be drowned, at any
rate."

"But then they may be starved. O dear!" he continued,
with a start of recollection, " I wonder whether Ailwin has
thought of moving the meal and the grain up-stairs. It will be
all rotted and spoiled if the water runs through it"

He shouted, and made signs to Ailwin, with all his might ; but
in vain. She could not hear a word he said, or make anything of
his signs. He was vexed, and said Ailwin was always stupid.

"So she is," replied Mildred; "but it does not signify now.
Look how the water is pouring out of the parlour-window. The
meal and grain must have been wet through long ago. Is not
that a pretty waterfall.? A waterfall from our parlour-window,
down upon the tulip-bed ! How very odd !"

"If one could think how to feed these poor animals," said
Oliver, — " and the fowls ! If there was anything here that one
could get for them ! One might cut a little grass for the cow ; —
but there is nothing else."

" Only the leaves of the trees, and a few blackberries, when
they are ripe," said Mildred, looking round her, " and flowers,
— wild-flowers, and a few that mother planted."

"The bees!" cried Oliver. ''Let us save them. They can
feed themselves. We will save the bees."

" Why, you don't think they are drowned ?" said Mildred.

The bees were not drowned ; but they were in more danger of
it than Mildred supposed. Their little shed was placed on the
side of the Red-hill, so as to overlook the flowery garden. The
waters stood among the posts of this shed ; and the hives them-
selves shook with every wave that rolled along.

" You cannot do it, Oliver," cried Mildred, as her brother
crept down the slope to the back of the shed. " You can never
get round, Oliver. You will slip in, Oliver ! "

Oliver looked round and nodded, as there was no use in speak-
ing in such a noise. He presently showed that he did not mean
to go round to the front of the shed. That would never have
done; for the flood had washed away the soil there, and left
nothing to stand upon. He broke away the boards at the back
of the bee-shed, which were old and loosely fastened. He was

26 The Settlers at Home.

glad he had come ; for the bees were busding about in great con-
fusion and distress, evidently aware that something great was the
matter. Oliver seized one of the hives, with the board it stood
on, and carried it, as steadily as he could, to a sunny part of the
hill, where he put it down on the grass. He then went for
another, asking Mildred to come part of the way down to receive
the second hive, and put it by the first, as he saw there was not a
moment to lose. She did so ; but she trembled so much, that it
was probable she would have let the hive fall, if it had ever been
in her hands. It never was, however. The soil was now melting
away in the water, where Oliver had stood firmly but a few
minutes before. He had to take great care, and to change his
footing every instant ; and it was not without slipping and sliding,
and wet feet, that he brought away the second hive. Mildred
saw how hot he was, as he sat resting, with the hive, before
climbing the bank, and begged that he would not try any more.

"These poor bees!" exclaimed Oliver, beginning to move
again, on the thought of the bees being drowned. But he had
done all he could. The water boiled up between the shed and
the bank, lifted the whole structure, and swept it away. Oliver
hastened to put down the second hive beside the first ; and when

he returned, saw that the posts had sunk, the boards were floating
away, and the remaining hive itself sailing down the stream,

" How it rocks I" cried Mildred. " I wish it would turn quite
over, so that the poor things might get out, and fly away."

" They never will," said Oliver. " I wish I had thought of the
bees a little sooner. It is very odd that you did not, Mildred."

*^ I don't know how to think of anything," said Mildred, dole-
fully ; " it is all so odd and so frightful !"

"Well, don't cry, if you can help it, dear," said her brother.

" We shall see what father will do. He won't cry \ — I am sure of

that."

Mildred laughed : for she never had seen her father cry.

" He was not far off crying yesterday, though," said Oliver,

" when he saw your poor hen lying dead. He looked but, O

Mildred 1 what can have become of the Redfums ? We have,
been thinking all this while about the bees ; and we never once
remembered the Redfums. Why, their tent was scarcely bigger
than our hives; and I am sure it could not stand a minute
against the flood."

While he spoke, Oliver was running to the part of the hill
which commanded the widest view of the carr, and Mildred was
following at his heels, — a good deal startled by the hares which
leaped across her path. There seemed to be more hares now on
the hill than she had seen in all her life before. She could not

The Settlers at Home. 27

ask about the hares, however, when she saw the brown tent, or a
piece of it, flapping about in the water, a great way off, and
sweeping along with the current.

"Hark! what was that? Did you hear?" said Oliver, turning
very pale.

" I thought I heard a child crying a great way off,^' said
Mildred, trembling.

" It was not a child, dear. It was a shriek, — a woman's
shriek, I am afraid. I am afraid it is Nan Redfum, somewhere in
the carr. O dear, if they should all be drowned, and nobody
there to help them I"

" No, no, — I don't believe it," said Mildred. '' They have got
up somewhere, — climbed up something, — that bank or some-
thing."

They heard nothing more, amidst the dash of the flood, and
they fancied they could see some figures moving on the ridge of
the bank, far out over the carr. When they were tired of strain-
ing their eyes, they looked about them, and saw, in a smoother
piece of water near their hill, a dog swimming, and seeming to
labour very much.

" It has got something fastened to it," cried Mildred 3 — " some-
thing tied round its neck."

" It is somebody swimming," replied Oliver. " They will get
safe here now. Cannot we help them ? I wish I had a rope !
A long switch may do. I will get a long switch."

" Yes, cut a long switch," cried Mildred : and she pulled and
tugged at a long tough thorny bramble, not minding its pricking her
fingers and tearing her frock. She could not help starting at the
immense number of large birds that flew out, and rabbits that ran
away between her feet, while she was about it ; but she never left
hold, and dragged the long bramble down to the part of the hill
that the dog seemed to be trying to reach. Oliver was already
there, holding a slip of ash, such as he had sometimes cut for a
fishing-rod.

" It is Roger, I do believe ; but I see nothing of the others,"
said he. " Look at his head, as it bobs up and down. Is it not
Roger?"

'' O dear! I hope not!" cried Mildred, in a tone of despair.
"What shall we do if he comes?"

" We must see that afterwards : we must save him first. Now
for it!"

As Oliver spoke, the dog ducked, and came up again without
Roger, swimming lightly to the bank, and leaping ashore with a
bark. Roger was there, however, — very near, but they supposed,
exhausted, for he seemed to fall back, and sink, on catching hold

28 The Settlers at Home.

of Oliver's switch, and by the jerk twitched it out of the boy's
hand.

''Try again!" shouted Oliver, as he laid Mildred's bramble
along the water. " Don't let go, Mildred."

Mildred let the thorns run deep into her fingers without leaving
her hold. Roger grasped the other end : and they pulled, without
jerking, and with all their strength, till he reached the bank, and
they could help him out with their hands.

" Oh, I am so glad you are safe, Roger !" said Oliver.

"You might have found something better than that thorny
switch to throw me," said Roger. " My hands are all blood with
the spikes."

" Look at hers ! " cried Oliver, intending to show the state that
his sister's hands were in, for Roger's sake ; but Mildred pulled
away her hands, and hid them behind her as she retreated,
saying,—

" No, no. Never mind that now."

Oliver saw how drenched the poor boy looked, and forgave
whatever he might say. He asked Mildred to go back to the
place where they had been standing, opposite the house ; and he
would come to her there presently. He then begged Roger to
slip off his coat and trousers, that they might wring the wet out of

them. He thought they would soon dry in the sun. But Roger
pushed him away with his shoulder, and said he knew what he
wanted ; — he wanted to see what he had got about him. He
would knock anybody down who touched his pockets. It was
plain that Roger did not choose to be helped in any way ; so
Oliver soon ran off, and joined Mildred, as he had promised.

" I do not like to leave him, all wet, and so tired that I could
knock him over with my little finger," exclaimed Oliver. " But
he won't trust me about any thing,"

" There is father again ! Tell him," cried Mildred.

Both children shouted that Roger was here, and pointed behind
them 5 but it was plain that their father could not make out a
word they said, though they had never called out so loud in their
lives. Roger heard them, however, as they judged by seeing him
skulking among the trees behind, watching what use they were
making of his name.

The children thought their father was growing very anxious.
He still waved his hat to them, now and then, when he looked
their way \ but they saw him gazing abroad, as if surprised that
the rush of waters did not abate. They observed him glance
often round the sky, as if for signs of wind ; and they longed to
know whether he thought a wind would do good or harm. They
saw him bring out, for the third time, a rope which he had seemed

The Settlers at Home, 29

to think too short to be of any use ; and this appeared to be the
case, now as at first. Then he stooped down, as if to make a
mark on the side of the white door-post (for the water had by this
time quite hidden the steps) ; and Ohver thought this was to make
out, for certain, whether the flood was regularly rising or not.
They could not imagine why he examined so closely as they saw
him do the door lintel, and the window-frame. It did not occur
to them, as it did to him, that the mill might break down under
the force of the current.

At last it was clear that he saw Roger ; and from that moment,
he scarcely took his eyes from his children. Oliver put his arm
round Mildred's neck, and said in her ear,

" I know what father is watching us for. He is afraid that
Stephen is here too, and no one to take care of us ; — not even
Ailwin."

" Perhaps Stephen is here, — ^in the wood," cried Mildred, in
terror. " I wish this water would make haste and run away, and
kt us get home."

" It cannot run faster than it does. Look how the waves dash
along ! That is the worst of it : — it shows what a quantity there
is, where this came from. But I don't believe Stephen is here.
I have a good mind to ask Roger, and make him tell me."

" No, don't, Oliver ! Stephen may be drowned. Do not put
him m mind."

" Why, you see he does not care for anything. He is teazing
some live thing at this minute, — there, on the ground."

Oliver himself forgot everything but the Hve animals before his
eyes, when he saw how many there were under the trees. The
grass was swarming with mice, moles, and small snakes ; while
rabbits cocked up their little white tails, in all directions, and
partridges flew out of every bush, and hares started from every
hollow that the boy looked into.

" All soaked out of their holes ; — don't know what to do with
themselves ; — fine sport for those that have a mind to it," said
Roger, as he lay on the ground, pulling back a little mouse by its
long tail, as often as it tried to run away,

*'You have no mind for sport to-day, I suppose, Roger. I
should not think anybody has."

" I don't know; — I'm rarely hungry," said the boy.

" So were we ; but we forgot it again. Father is in the mill

there ..."

** You need not tell me that. Don't I see him ?"

" But we think he is looking out for Stephen."

" He won't find him," said Roger, in a very low voice ; so low
that Oliver was not sure what he said.

30 The Settlers at Home,

" He is not here on the hill, then, Roger ?"

" On the hill, — no ! I don't know where he is, nor the woman
either. I suppose they are drowned, as I was, nearly. If they
did not swim as I did, they must be drowned : and they could
hardly do that, as I had the dog."

The children looked at each other; and their looks told that
they thought Roger was shocked and sorry, though he tried not
to appear so.

" There might have been a boat, perhaps, out on the carr.
Don't you think the country people in the hills would get out
boats when they saw the flood spreading ?"

*' Boats, no ! The hill-people have not above three boats
among them all. There are about three near the ponds ; and
they are like nut-shells. How should any boat live in such a
flood as that ? Why, that flood would sweep a ship out to sea in
a minute. You need not think about boats, I can tell you."

" But won't anybody send a boat for us ?" inquired Mildred,
who had drawn near to listen. "If they don't send a boat, and
the flood goes on, what are we to do ? We can't live here, with
nothing to eat, and no beds, and no shelter, if it should rain."

"Are you now beginning to cry about that? Are you now
beginning to find that out, after all this time T said Roger, con-
temptuously.

" I thought we should get away," sobbed the little girl. " I
thought a boat or something would come."

" A pretty silly thing you must be !" exclaimed Roger.

"If she is silly, I am silly too," declared Oliver. "I am not
sure that it is silly to look for a boat. There are plenty out on
the coast there."

"They are all dashed to pieces long ago," decided Roger.
" And they that let in the flood will take good care you don't get
out of it, — ^you, and your outlanders. It is all along of you that
I am in this scrape. But it was shameful of them not to give us
notice ;— it was too bad to catch us in the same trap with you. If
uncle is drowned, and I ever get out alive, I will be revenged on
them." ■

Mildred stopped crying, as well as she could, to listen ; but she
felt like Oliver when he said, —

" I don't know a word of what you mean."

" I dare say not. You foreigners never know anything like
other people."

" But won't you tell us? Who made this flood ?"

" To be sure, you wem't meant to know this. It would Hot
have done to show you the way out of the trap. Why — the
Parliament Committee at lancoln ordered the Snow-sewer sluice

The Settlers at Home, 3 1

to be pulled up to-day, to drown the king's lands, and get rid of
his tenants. It will be as good as a battle gained to them."

The children were aghast at the wickedness of this deed. They
would not believe it It would have been tyrannical and cruel to
have obliged the settlers, who were not interested in a quarrel
between Qie king of England and his people, to enlist, and be
shot down in wan They would have complained of this as
tyrannical and cruel. But when they were YiYmg in peace and
quiet on their farms, paying their rents, and inclined to show
good-will to everybody, to pull up the flood-gates, and let in the
sea and the rivers to drown them because they lived in the king's
lands, was a cruelty too dreadful to be believed. Oliver and
Mildred did not believe it They were sure their father would
not believe it ; and that their mother, if ever she should return
to her home and family, would bring a very different accotmt —
that the whole misfortune would turn out to be accidental. So
they felt assured : but the fact was as Roger had said. The
Snow-sewer sluice had been pulled up, by the orders of the
Committee of the Parliament, then sitting at Lincoln : and it was
done to destroy the king's new lands, and deprive him of the
support of his tenants. The jealous country-people round hoped
also that it would prevent foreigners from coming to live in
England, however much they might want such a refuge.

Some of the sufferers knew how their misfortune happened.
Others might be thankful that they did not; for the thought of
the malice of their enemies must have been more bitter than the
fear of ruin and death.

CHAPTER IV.

A HUNGRY DAY.

" We shall see what father does," was still the consolation with
which Oliver kept down his sister's fears. He had such confidence
in his father's knowing what was best to be done on all occasions,
that he felt they had only to watch him, and imitate whatever he
might attempt They remained quiet on the island now, hungry
and tired as they were, because he remained in the mill, and
seemed to expect the water to subside. The most fearful
thought was what they were to do after dark, if they should not
get home before that They supposed, at last, that their father
was thinking of this too ; for he began to move about, when the
sun was near setting, more than he had done all the afternoon.

32 The Settlers at Home,

They saw him go carefully down into the stream, and proceed
cautiously for some way — till the water was up to his chin. Then
he was buffeted about so terribly that Mildred could not bear to
look. Both Oliver and Roger were sure, by what he ventured,
and by the way he pulled himself back at last to the steps, that
he had tied himself by the rope they had seen him measure. It
was certainly too short for any good purpose ; for he had to go
back, having only wetted himself to the skin. They saw this by
the yellow light from the west which shone upon the water. In a
few minutes they could distinguish him no longer, though the mill
stood up black against the sky, and in the midst of the gleaming
flood.

" Father will be wet, and so cold all night !" said Mildred,
crying.

" If I could only swim," exclaimed Oliver, " I would get over
to him somehow, and carry a rope from the house. I am sure
there must be a rope long enough somewhere about the yard. If
I could only swim, I would get to him."

" That you wouldn't," said Roger. " Your father can swim ;
and why does not he ? Because nobody could swim across that
stream. It is a torrent. It would carry any stout man out over

the carr ; and you would be no better than a twig in the middle
of it."

" I am afraid now this torrent will not slacken,'* said Oliver,
thoughtfully. ''I am afraid there is some hollow near which will
keep up the current."

" What do you mean by that ?"

" They say in Holland, where they have floods sometimes, that
when water flows into a hollow, it gets out in a current, and keeps
it up for some way. Oh ! the quarry !" he cried, with sudden
recollection. " Mildred, let us go, and look what is doing on that
side before it is dark."

They ran roxmd the hill ; and there they saw indeed that the
flood was tumbling in the quarry, like water boiling in a pot.
When it rushed out, it carried white earth with it, which made a
long streak in the flood, and explained how it was that the stream
between the house and the mill was whiter and more muddy than
that between their hill and the house. At once it occurred to
Roger that the stream between the hill and the house was pro-
bably less rapid than the other; and he said so. Oliver ran
back ; and so did Mildred, pleased at the bare idea of getting to
the house.

Once more arrived opposite the house, they saw a strange sight.
The mill no longer stood in its right place. It had moved a good
way down towards the carr. Not only that, but it was still

The Settlers at Home. 33

moving. It was sailing away like a ship. After the first excla-
mation, even Roger stood as still as death to watch it. He
neither moved nor spoke till the mill was out of sight in the dusk.
When Mildred burst into a loud cry, and Oliver threw himself
down, hiding his face on the ground, Roger spoke again.

'* Be quiet — -you must," he said, decidedly, to the little girl.
" We must bestir ourselves now, instead of stopping to see what
other folks will do."

" Oh, father ! father will be drowned ! " cried they.

*' You don't know that. If he drifts out to the Humber, which
is likely, by the way he is going, some ship may pick him up — or
he may light upon some high ground. We can't settle that now,
however; and the clear thing is that he wouldn't wish us to
starve, whether he drowns or not. Come, get up, lad ! " said he,
stirring Oliver with his foot.

" Don*t lie there, Oliver; do get up !" begged Mildred.

Oliver rose, and did all that Roger bade him.

"You say there is a long rope somewhere about the house,"
said Roger. " Where is it ?"

" There is one in the cowshed, I know."

"And if I cannot get there, is there one in the house ? "

"In the lumber-room," said Mildred. "The spare bed is
tied round and round with a long rope — I don't know how long."

" I wish we had set about it an hour ago," muttered Roger,
"instead ofwaiting for dark. Apretty set of fools we have been to
lose the daylight ! I say, lad, can you think of any way of making
a fire ? Here are sticks enough, if one could set them alight."

" To cook a supper ? " asked Mildred.

" No ; I mean to sup within doors ; only we must do some work
first."

Oliver had a steel knife ; but it was too dark to look for a flint,
if any other plan than a fire would do.

"Well, don't plague any more about a fire," said Roger, "but
listen to me. Can you climb a tree ? I'll be bound you can't :
and now you'll die if you can't."

" I can," said Oliver; "but what is Mildred to do?"

" We'll see that afterwards. Which of these trees stands nearest
to the nearest of yon upper windows ? "

Oliver and Mildred pointed out a young ash, which now quite
bent over the water.

" That is not strong enough," said Roger, shaking the tree, and
finding it loosened at the roots. " Show me a stouter one."

A well-grown beech was the next nearest. Roger pulled Oliver
by the arm, and made him stand directly under the tree, with his
sister beside him. He desired them not to move from where they

D

34 The Settlers at Home,

were, and to give a loud halloo together, or a shriek (or anything
that might be heard furthest) — about once in a minute for an hour
to come, unless they should hear a rope fall into the tree, or any-
where near them. T'hey were to watch for this rope, and use all
their endeavours to catch it. There would be a weight at the end,
which would make it easier to catch. Oliver must tie this rope
to the trunk of the tree, stretching it tight, with all his strength,
and then tying it so securely that no weight would unfasten it.

" Mind you that," said Roger. " If you don't, you \vill be
drowned, that's all. Do as I tell you, and you'll see what you
will see."

Roger then whistled for his dog, snatched Oliver's black ribbon
from about his neck, and fastened it round the dog's neck, to hold
by. He then showed the dog the house, and forced him into the
water, himself following, till the children could no longer see what
became of them.

"What do you think he means?" asked poor Mildred,
shivering.

" I don't know exactly. He cannot mean that we are to climb
over by a rope. I do not think I could do that ; and I am sure
you could not."

" Oh, no, no ! Let us stay here ! Stay with me under the

trees, here, Oliver."

" Why, it would be much more comfortable to be at home by
the fire. You are shivering now, already, as if it was winter :
and the night will be very long, with nothing to eat."

" But Roger is gone ; and I don't like to be where he is, — ^he is
such a rude boy ! How he snatched your ribbon, and pulled you
about ! And he calls you * lad,' when he might just as well say
' Oliver.' "

" We must not mind such things now, dear. And we must get
home, if he can show us how. Think how glad Ailwin and George
will be : and I am sure father would wish it, and mother too.
You must not cry now, Mildred ; indeed you must not. People
must do what they can at such a time as this. Come, help me to
shout. Shriek as loud and as long as ever you can."

" I wish I might say my prayers," said Mildred, presently.

" Do, dear. Kneel down here ; — nobody sees us. Let us ask
God to save father, — ^and us too, and George and Ailwin, if it
pleases Him ; — and Roger,"

They kneeled down, and Oliver said aloud to God what was in
his heart. It was a great comfort to them both ; ior they knew
that while no human eye saw them in the starlight, under the tree,
God heard their words, and understood their hearts.

" "Ro^f again 1 " said Oliver, as they stood up.

The Settlers at Home, 35

They raised a cry about once a minute, as nearly as they could
guess : and they had given as many as thirty shouts, and began
to find it very hard work, before anything happened to show them
that it was of any use. Then something struck the tree over their
heads, and pattered down among the leaves, touching Oliver's
head at last. He felt about, and caught the end of a rope, with-
out having to climb the tree, to search for it. They set up a shout
of a different kind now ; for they really were very glad. This
shout was answered by a gentle tug at the rope : but Oliver held
fast, determined not to let anything pull the precious line out of
his hand.

" What have we here ? " said he, as he felt a parcel tied to the
rope, a little way from the end. He gave it to Mildred to untie
and open ; which she did with some trouble, wishing the evening
was not so dark.

It was a tinder-box.

" There now 1 " said Oliver, *' we shall soon know what we are
about Do you know where the tree was cut down, the other
day?''

"Close by? Yes."

*'Well; bring a lapful of chips, — quick; and then any dry sticks
you can find. We can get on twice as fast with a light ; and then
they will see from the house how we manage."

In a i^-^ minutes, there was a fire blazing near the tree. The
rope must have come straight over from the house, without
dipping once into the water ; for not only were the flint and
steel safe, but the tinder within, and the cloth that the box
was done up in, were quite dry.

" Roger is a clever fellow, — that is certain," said Oliver. " Now
for fastening the rope 1 Do you take care that the fire keeps up.
Don't spare for chips. Keep a good fire till I have done."

Oliver gave all his strength to pulUng the rope tight, and wind-
ing it round the trunk of the beech, just above a large knob in
the stem. It seemed to him that the rope stretched pretty evenly,
as far as he could see, — not slanting either up or down ; so that
the sill of the upper window must be about upon a level with the
great knob in the beech-trunk. Oliver tied knot upon knot, till
no more rope was left to knot. It still hung too slack, if it was
meant for a bridge. He did not think he could ever cross the
water on a rope that would keep him dangling at every move :
but he had pulled it tight with all his force, and he could do no
more. When he had tied the last knot, he and Mildred stood in
front of the fire, and raised one more great shout, waving their
arms — sure now of being seen as well as heard.

" Look I look ! " cried Oliver, " it is moving ; — the rope is not

D 2

36 The Settlers at Home.

so slack ! They are tightening it How much tighter it is than
I could pull it ! That must be Ailwin*s strong arm, — together with
Roger's."

" But still I never can creep across that way," declared Mildred.
*' I wish you would not try. Oliver. Do stay with me !"

*' I will not leave you, dear : but we do not know what they
mean us to do yet. There ! now the rope is shaking ! We shall
see something. Do you see anything coming ? Don't look at
the flashing water. Fix your eye on the rope, with the light
upon it. What do you see ? "

" I see something like a basket, — like one of our clothes'
baskets, — coming along the line."

It was one of Mrs. Linacre's clothes' baskets, which was slung
upon the rope ; and Roger was in it. He did not stay a minute.
He threw to Oliver a line which was fastened to the end of the
basket, with which he might pull it over, from the window to the
tree, when emptied of Roger. He was then to put Mildred' into
the basket, carefully keeping hold of the line, in order to pull it
back for himself when his sister should be safely landed, Ailwin
held a line fastened to the other end of the basket, with which to
pull it the other way.

Oliver was overjoyed. He said he had never seen anything so

clever ; and he asked Mildred whether she could possibly be afraid
of riding over in this safe little carriage. He told her how to
help her passage by pulling herself along the bridge-rope, as he
called it, instead of hindering her progress by clinging to the rope
as she sat in the basket. Taking care not to let go the line for a
moment, he again examined the knots of the longer rope, and
found they were all fast. In a few minutes he began hauling in
his line, and the empty basket came over very easily.

" How shall I get in ? " asked Mildred, trembling.

" Here," said Oliver, stooping his back to her. " Climb upon
my back. Now hold by the tree, and stand upon my shoulders.
Don't be afraid. You are light enough. Now, can't you step in?"

Feeling how much depended upon this, the little girl managed
it. She tumbled into the basket, took a lesson from Oliver how
to help her own passage, and earnestly begged him to take care
of his line, that nothing might prevent his following her imme-
diately. Then came a great tug, and she felt herself drawn back
into the darkness. She did not like it at all The water roared
louder than ever as she hung over it ; and the light which was
cast upon it from the fire showed how rapidly it was shooting
beneath. Then she saw Oliver go, and throw some more chips
and tv/igs on the fire ; and she knew by that that he could see
her no longer. She worked as hard as she could, putting her

Tlie Settlers at Home. 37

hands one behind the other along the rope : but her hands were
weak, and her head was very dizzy. 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 passed 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 Ail-
win 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 vege-
tables, 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

38 The Settlers at Home.

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, remem-
bering 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, — "Stuif!" As
if I cared whether you and she sink or swim ! I Hke sport that's
all."

Nobody 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 passed 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.

The Settlers at Home, 39

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
God. 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 pro-
tested 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 Ailwih'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
httle George, as he lay down beside him, and was soon as sound
asleep as all his companions.

40 The Settlers at Home.

CHAPTER V.

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 Aincertainty 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 in-
creased 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 Mil-
dred, 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.

The Settlers at Home. 41

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 any-
thing; 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*
basketj 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 superstitious 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, there-
fore, tied a string to the knob of the bolt, then slipped the bolt, to
keep the door fastened while he lifted and tied up the latch. The

42 The Settlers at Home.

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 bedpost, 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, Ohver. 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 ofi" 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 balustrade 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.

The Settlers at Home. 43

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 hitherto 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 ^yi 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
angeh 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
tb 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."

44 The Settlers at Home.

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 ? "

** Yes, I believe so, dear. And, for one thing, I almost wish
she may not come in a boat. Who should tell her that father was
carried away into all those waters, without having spoken one
word to us ? "

" If they are both dead, do you not think they are together
now ? " asked Mildred.

" Certainly. Pastor Dendel says that all who love one another
well enough will live together, where they will never die any
more,"

" And I am sure they did,'* said Mildred.

" If they see us now," said Oliver, " it must make a great
difference to them whether we are frightened and miserable, or
whether we behave as we ought to do. Let us try not to be
frightened, for their sakes, dear."

"And if they are not with us all the while, God is," whispered
Mildred.

"O, yes; but God knows .... God will not expect " . . . .

" Surely He will feel in some way as they do about us," said
Mildred, remembering and repeating the verse Pastor Dendel had
taught her. " * Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord
pitieth them that fear him.

" * For he knoweth our frame ; he remembereth that we are

dust.' " So Oliver continued the psalm.

" There comes the sun ! " exclaimed Mildred, happy to greet
some one familiar object amidst this strange scene.

The scene hardly appeared the same when the sun, after first
peeping above the hills like a golden star, flamed up to its full
size, and cast a broad glittering light over the wide waters, and
into the very eyes of the children. They felt the warmth too,
immediately ; and it was very cheering. The eastern hills now
almost disappeared in the sun's blaze ; and those to the west
shone very clearly ; and the southern ridge near Gainsborough,
looked really but a little way off. The children knew, however,
that there were three full miles between them and any land,
except their Red-hill, and a few hillocks which peeped above the
flood in the Levels : and there was no sign of a boat, far or near.
Oliver checked a sigh, when he had convinced himself of this ;

> ))

The Settlers at Home. 45

and began to look what had become of the people they knew in
the Levels.

Neighbour Gool's dwelling stood low ; and nothing was now to
be seen of it but a dark speck, which might be the top of a
chimney. It was possible that the whole family might have
escaped \ for Gool and his wife were to be at Haxey yesterday ;
and they might there hear of the mischief intended or done to the
sluices, in time to save the rest of the household. Some of the
roofs of the hamlet of Sandtoft stood above the waters j and the
whole upper part of the chapel used by the foreigners ; and many
might easily have found a refuge there. Further off, a conspicuous
object was the elegant crocketed spire of one of the beautiful
Lincolnshire churches, standing high, as if inviting those who
were dismayed to come and save themselves in the air from the
dangers of the waters. Oliver wondered whether any sufferers
were now watching the sunrise from the long ridge of the church-
roof, or from the windows of the spire.

One of the most curious sights was the fleets of haystacks that
were sailing along in the courses of the currents. As the smaller
stacks were sometimes shot forward rapidly, and whirled round hj
an eddy, while a large stately stack followed forwards, performing
the same turns of the voyage, Mildred compared them to a duck
and her ducklings in the pond, and Oliver to a great ship voyaging
wiXh a fleet oi small craft. They saw sights far more sorrowful
than this. They grieved over the line large trees — some in full
leaf — that they saw tumbling about in the torrents which cut
through the stiller waters ; but it was yet worse to see dead cows,
horses, pigs, and sheep carried past — some directly through the
garden, or over the spot where the mill had stood. There were
also thatched roofs carried away entire ; and many a chest, chair,
and cow-rack — showing the destruction that had gone on during
the night. While the distant scene was all bright and lovely in
the sunrise, these nearer objects, thickly strewn in the muddy
waters, were ugly and dismal ; and Oliver saw that it did him and
his sister no good to watch them. He started, and said they
must not be idle any longer.

Just then Ailwin called from the stairs, —

" I say, Oliver, the cow is alive. I heard her low, I'm
certain. "

" I am afraid it was only George," said Mildred. " He was
lowing like the cow, a minute ago."

" That might be because he heard the real cow," cried Oliver,
with new hope. " I had rather save the cow than anything. I
will see if I cannot get into one of the upper rooms that looks
towards the yard. We might have a bridge-rope from more

46 The Settlers at Home.

windows than one. Where is Roger ? What is he fit for ? Is
he awake ?"

" Awake ! yes, indeed," whispered Ailwin, coming close up to
the children. " There is more mischief about that boy than you
think for. He is now on the stairs, with more mice, and rats,
and spiders, and creeping things about him than I ever saw before
in all my days. We are like to be devoured as we stand on our
feet ; to say nothing of what is to become of us if we lie down."

Mildred looked at her brother in great terror.

" We must get rid of them, if they really do us hurt,'* said
Oliver, decidedly, though with an anxious look. "We must
drown them, if they are mischievous. We can do that, you
know — at least with the larger things. They cannot get away
from us."

" Drown away !" said Ailwin, mysteriously. " Drown away !
The more you drown the more will come up. Why, did you
never hear of the plagues of Egypt?"

" Yes, to be sure. What then ? "

" I take this to be a plague of Egypt that that boy has brought
upon us. It is his doing; and you will see that, if you will just
look down from where I stand, and watch him making friends

with them all.''

Mildred's eyes were on her brother's face as he stood where
Ailwin desired him, watching Roger. After looking very thoughtful
for some moments, he turned and exclaimed, — •

" There is not one word of sense in it all, Mildred, There is
a wonderful number of live things there, to be sure ; and here,
too, all over the roof — if you look. But Roger is not making
friends with them. He is teazing them — hurting all he can get
hold of. I think the creatures have come up here because the
water has driven them out of their holes ; and that there would
have been quite as many if Roger had been drowned in the carr.
They have nothing to do with Roger, or the plagues of Egypt,
Mildred. Don't believe a word of it."

" Then I wish Ailwin would not say such things," replied
Mildred.

Ailwin persisted that time would show what Roger was — to
which they all agreed. Oliver observed that meanwhile Ailwin,
who was the oldest person among them, should not try to frighten
a little girl, who was the youngest of all, except George. Ailwin
said she should keep her own thoughts ; though, to be sure, she
need not always say what they were to everybody.

"About this cow," thought Oliver, aloud. "We must plan
some way to feed her."

" Take care !" exclaimed Mildred, as he began to descend the

The Settlers at Home. 47

Stairs. But the words were scarcely out of her mouth when her
brother called to her that the water had sunk. She ran to see,
and saw, with her own eyes, that the water did not quite come up
to the wet mark it had left on the wall of the stairs. Ailwin
thought but little of it — it was such a trifle ; and Oliver allowed
that it might be a mere accident, arising from the flood having
found some new vent about the house ; but still, the water had
sunk ; and that was a sight full of hope.

Have you heard the cow low, Roger ?" asked Oliver.
Yes, to be sure. She may well low ; for she must be hungry
enough."

" And wet and cold enough, too, poor thing ! I am going to
see whether- 1 can find out exactly where she is, and whether we
cannot do something for her."

Ailwin called down stairs to Oliver, to say that there was a
washtub floating about in the room they had slept in. If he
could find it, he might row himself about in that, in the chambers,
instead of always wading in the water, catching his death of cold.

Oliver took the hint, and presently appeared in the tub, rowing
himself with a slip of the wood he had brought over from the Red-
hill. Roger stared at him as he rowed himself out of one
chamber, and opened the door of another, entering it in fine style.
Roger presently followed to see what was doing, and perhaps to
try how he liked a voyage in a tub in a large chamber.

" I see her," cried Oliver, from the window. " I see poor cow's
head, and the ridge of her back above water."

Roger came splashing to the window to look, and jumped into
the tub, making it sink a good deal ; but it held both the boys very
well. Roger thought the cow very stupid that she did not get
upon the great dunghill behind her, which would keep her whole
body out of the water. Oliver thought that, as the dunghill was
behind her, she could not see it He wished he could go, and
put her in mind of it. He thought he would try to cross in the
tub, if he could so connect it with the window as that it might be
drawn back, in case of his being unable to pass the little current
that there was between the house and the ruins of the yard-
buildings — of which little remained.

" Fll go, too," said Roger.

" Either you will go, or I,'* said Oliver, " One must stay to
manage the rope, in case of the tub upsetting. You had better
let me go, Roger, because poor cow knows me."

Roger, however, chose to go. Oliver asked him whether he
could milk a cow ; because some milk must be got for George, if
possible. He said, very gravely, that his poor little brother would
die, he thought, if they could not get milk for him.

4^ The Settlers at Home.

Roger laughed at the doubt whether he could milk cows. He
did it every day of his life, when fishing and fowling, with his
uncle, in the carr. Oliver now guessed how it was that the milk
of their good cow had sometimes unaccountably run short
Ailwin had observed that this never happened but when the
Redfums were in the neighbourhood ; and she had always in-
sisted upon it that they had bewitched the cow. Oliver knew
that she would say so now. He said so much, and said it so
seriously, about the necessity of milk for little George, that he
thought not even a Redfum could have the heart to drink up all
the milk. He gave Roger a brown pitcher for the milk, and
helped, very cleverly, to fasten the cord to the tub. They passed
the cord through the back of a heavy old-fashioned chair that
stood in the room, lest any sudden pull should throw Oliver out
of the window ; he then established himself on the window-sill,
above the water, to manage his line, and watch what Roger
would do.

Roger pulled very skilfully ;— much more so, from his strength
and from practice, than Oliver could have done. He avoided
logs of wood, trees, and other heavy things that floated past ; and
this was nearly all he did till the line had quite run out, so that
he could not be carried any further down. Then he began dili-
gently working his way up towards the cow. He had got half
way to his object, when he paused a moment, and then changed
his course — to Oliver's surprise ; for the thing which appeared to
have attracted his attention was a small copper boiler. Plenty of
such things swept past before, and nobody had thought of wanting
them. It was plain, however, that Roger had a fancy for this
particular copper boiler ; for he carefully waylaid it, and arrested
it with his paddle. Oliver then saw that some live animal leaped
from the boiler into the tub. He saw Roger seize the boiler, and
take it into the tub ; catch up the animal, whatever it might be,
and nurse it -in his arms ; and then take something out of his
pocket, and stoop down. Oliver was pretty sure he was kiUing
something with his knife.

Whatever Roger was doing he had soon done. By this time
he had again been carried down as far as the line would allow ;
and the additional weight he had now on board his tub made it
harder work for him to paddle up again. He did it, however,
and brought his odd little boat into still water, between the dung-
hill and the cow. After looking about him for a while, he threw
out the boiler and the pitcher upon the dunghill, seized a pitch-
fork which was stuck upright in it, and, his craft being thus
lightened, made for the ruins of the cart shed and stable.

Of these buildings there remained only wrecks of the walls, and

The Settlers at Home. 49

a few beams and rafters standing up in the air, or lying across
each other, without any thatch to cover them. Something must
be left inside, however ; for Roger was busy with his pitchfork.
This something must be valuable, too \ for Roger, after carefully
feeling the depth, jumped out of the tub, and went on filling it,
while he stood in the water. Oliver thought this very daring,
till, glancing at the cow, he was sure he saw more of her neck
and back ; and examining the wall of the house, he perceived
that the flood had sunk some inches since Roger began to cross.

When the tub was heaped up with what looked like wet straw,
Roger pushed it before him towards the cow, carefully feehng his
way, but never sinking so much as to have the water above his
shoulders.

** Capital! Now that is clever!'' said Oliver, aloud, as he sat
at the window, and saw what Roger was about. " He is going to
lift her up out of the water. How she struggles to help herself !
She knows there is somebody caring for her ; and she will Ao
what she can for herself."

This was true. Roger thrust the straw he had brought under
the cow, with his pitchfork. He had to bring three loads before
she could raise her whole body ; but then she stood, poor thing !
with only her trembling legs m. the water. Roger turned her
head so that she saw the dunghill just behind her, and with some
encouragement, made one more vigorous scramble to reach it.
She succeeded ; and Roger whipped up the pitcher, and was
certainly trying to milk her. She could not, however, be pre-
vented from ly'vcig down. Oliver was more angry than he had
almost ever been in his life, when he saw Roger kick her re-
peatedly, in different parts of her body, pull her by the tail, and
haul up her head with a rope he had found in the stable. The
poor cow never attempted to rise; and it was clear that she
wanted comfort, and not ill-usage. Oliver determined that, when
Roger came back, he would not speak a word to him.

Roger set about returning presently, when he' found that
nothing could be got firom the cow. He took his boiler on
board, and pulled himself in by the line, without troubling himself
to paddle.

When he came in at the window, he threw down the pitcher,
swearing at himself for the trouble he had taken about a good-for-
nothing beast that had been standing starving in the water till she
had not a drop of milk to give. He looked at Oliver, as if rather
surprised that he did not speak; but Oliver took no notice of
him.

It was a hare that Roger had in his boiler, — a hare that had,
no doubt, leaped into the boiler when pressed by a still more

£

50 The Settlers at Home,

urgent danger than sailing down the stream in such a boat.
Roger had cut her throat with his pocket-knife ; and there she lay
in her own blood.

" Don't you touch that," said Roger, as he landed his booty
upon the window-sill. '* If you lay a finger on that, it will be
the worse for you. They are mine — both puss and the boiler."

Still Oliver did not speak. He wondered what Roger meant
to do with these things, if nobody else was to touch them.

Roger soon made it clear what his intentions were. He
whistled to his dog, which scampered down stairs to him from the
top of the house; put dog, puss, and boiler into the clothes*
basket, and pulled himself over with them to the Red-hill, taking
care to carry the tinder-box with him. There he made a fire,
skinned and cooked his hare, and, with his dog, made a feast of
it, under a tree.

Nobody grudged him his feast ; though the children were sorry
to find that any one could be so selfish. Ailwin was glad to be
rid of him, on any terms ; and, as soon as Oliver was sure that he
was occupied for some time to come, so that he would not be
returning to make mischief, he resolved to go over to the cow,
and give her something better than kicks; — food, if, as he
thought, he could procure some. Saying nothing to any one, he
tied the tub-line to a bed-post, as being more trustworthy still
than the heavy chair, and carried with him the great knife that
the meat had been cut with the evening before. He made for
the stable first, and joined the rope he knew to be there to his
line, so as to make it twice the length it was before. He could
now reach the field behind the stable, where the com, just turning
from green to yellow^ had been standing high at this hour yester-
day. He had to paddle very carefully here, lest his tub should
be knocked to pieces against the stone wall. But the wall, though
not altogether thrown down, had so many breaches made in it,
that he found himself in the field, without exactly knowing
whether he had come through the gate-posts or through the wall.

He lost no time in digging with his paddle; and, as he had hoped,
he turned up ears of corn from under the water, which he could
catch hold of, a handful at a time, and cut off with his knife. It
was very tiresome, slow work ; and sometimes he was near losing
his paddle, and sometimes his knife. He persevered, however:
now resting for a minute or two, and then eating a few of the
ears, and thinking that only very hungry people could swallow
them, soaked as they were with bad water. He ate more than he
would have done, remembering that the more he took now, the
less he should want of the portion he meant to carry to the
house, when he should have fed the cow. He hoped they

The Settlers at Home, 5 1

should obtain some better food ; but, if no flour was to be had,
and no other vegetable than this, it would be better than none.

When he reached the cow, she devoured the heads of corn
ravenously. She could not have appeared better satisfied with
the sweetest spring grass. It was a pleasure to see her eyes as
she lay, receiving her food from Oliver's hand. He emptied out
all he had brought beside her, and patted her, saying he hoped
she would give George some milk in the afternoon, in return for
what had been done for her now.

Oliver felt so tired and weak when he got home with his tub
half full of soaked corn ears, that he felt as if he could not do
anything more. He was very near crying when he found that
there was not a morsel to eat ; that the very water was too bad to
drink ; and that there was no fire, from Roger having carried off
the tinder-box. But George was crying with hunger; and that
made Oliver ashamed to do the same, and put him upon thinking
what was to be done next.

Ailwin was the only person who, being as strong as Roger
could have got anything from him by force ; and there was no use in
asking Ailwin to cross the bridge-rope, or to do anything which
would bring her nearer to the boy she feared so much. Besides
that, Roger had carried over the clothes* basket without leaving any
line to pull \t back by. Oliver i^t that he (if he were only a little
less hungry and tired) could make the trip in a sack, or a tub, or
even a kettle ; but a tall woman like Ailwin could cross in nothing
smaller than the missing clothes* basket. It was clear that Oliver
alone could go ; and that he must go for the tinder-box before
any comfort was to be had.

He made up his mind to this, therefore ; and having, with
Ailwin's help, slung the useful tub upon the bridge-rope, so that
he might start the first moment that Roger should be out of sight
or asleep, he rested himself in the window, watching what passed
on the Red-hill. He observed that Roger seemed quite secure
that no one could follow him, as he had carried off the basket.
There he lay, near the fire, eating the meat he had broiled, and
playing with his dog. It seemed to the hungry watchers as if he
meant to lie there all day. After awhile, however, he rose, and
sauntered towards the trees, among which he disappeared, as if
going to the other side of the hill, to play, or to set his dog upon
game.

Oliver was off, sliding along the bridge-rope in his tub. He
did not forget to carry the line with which to bring back the
basket It seemed to him that Roger intended to live by himself
on the Red-hill ; and to this none of the party had any objec-
tion. He had swum over to the house once, when the stream

£ 2

52 The Settlers at Home,

was higher and more rapid than now ; and he could come
again, if he found himself really in want of anything; so that
nobody need be anxious for him. Meantime, no one at the
house desired his company. Oliver therefore took with him a
blanket and a rug, and a knife and fork for his accommodation.

He alighted under the beech without difficulty, and laid down
the articles he brought under the tree, where Roger would be sure to
see them. He took the flint and the tinder from the tinder-box, and
pocketed them, leaving the steel and the box for Roger's use, as
there were knives at home, and Roger might perhaps find a flint on
the hill. There were plenty in the quarry. Oliver knew he must be
quick ; but he could not help looking round for something to eat, — ■
some one of the many animals and birds that he knew to be on the
hill, and heard moving about him on every side. But he had no
means of catching any. The bones of the hare were lying about,
picked quite clean by the dog ; but not a morsel of meat was left
in sight.

Something very precious, however, caught Oliver^s eye ; — a
great heap of pebbly gravel thrown up by the flood. The water
in the Levels was usually so bad that the settlers had to filter it ;
and Oliver knew that no water was purer than that which had

been filtered through gravel. He believed now that poor George

could have a good drink of water, at least ; and he scooped up
with his hands enough gravel to half fill the tub. It took a long
time to heap up as much as he could carry upon the rug; and
then it was hard work to empty it into the tub ; and he fancied
every moment that he heard Roger coming. It was a pity he did
not know that Roger had fallen fast asleep in the sun, on the other
side of the hill ; and that his dog lay winking beside him, not
thinking of stirring.

One thing more must be had ;— chips for fuel. When Oliver
had got enough of these, and of sticks too, he found courage and
strength to stay a few minutes more, to make up such a fire for
Roger as would probably last till after he should have discovered
the loss of the flint, and so prevent his being without fire till he
could find another flint. In order to give him a broad hint,
Oliver spread out the blanket on the ground, and set the tinder-
box in the middle of it, where it would be sure to invite attentio;i.
He then climbed into the tub, and was glad to be off, drawing the
basket with the firewood after him.

" Here, Ailwin," said he, faintly, as he reached the window,
" take the flint and the tinder, and the wood in the basket, and
make a fire. I have brought you nothing to eat"

" No need ! " said Ailwin, with an uncommonly merry coun-
tenance;

The Settlers at Home. 5 3

" You must broil the green corn, unless we can manage to get
a fowl from across the yard. But I really cannot go any more
errands till 1 am rested," said Oliver, dismally.

*' No need, Oliver dear ! " said Ailwin again.

'* What do you think we have found to eat ? " cried Mildred,
from the stairs. — "What is the matter with him, Ailwin? Why
does not he speak ? "

''He is so tired, he does not know what to do," said Ailwin.
" No, don't get down into the water again, dear. I'll carry you.
Put your arm round my neck, and Til carry you."

And the good-natured woman carried him up to the roof, and
laid him down on a bundle of bedding there, promising to bring
him breakfast presently. She threw an apron over his head, to
cover it from the hot sun, and bade him lie still, and not think of
anything till she came.

" Only one thing,'* said Oliver. " Take particular care of the
gravel in the tub."

*' Gravel ! " exclaimed Ailwin. " The fowls eat gravel ; but I
don't see that we can. However, you shall have your way,
Oliver."

The tired boy was asleep in a moment. He knew nothing
more till he felt vexed at somebody's trying to wake him. It was
Mildred. He heard her say, — ■

" How very sound asleep he is ! I can't make him stir. Here,
Oliver, — just eat this, and then you can go to sleep again
directly."

He tried to rouse himself, and sat up ; but his eyes were so
dim, and the light so dazzling, that he could not see, at first, what
Mildred had in her hands. It was one of her mother's best china
plates, — one of the set that was kept in a closet upstairs \ and
upon it was a nice brown toasted fish, steaming hot.

" Is that for me ? " asked Oliver, rubbing his eyes.

" Yes, indeed, for who but you ? " said Ailwin, whose smiling
face popped up from the stairs. " Who deserves it, if you do not,
I should like to know? It is not so good as I could have wished,
though, Oliver. I could not broil it, for want of butter and every-
thing \ and we have no salt, you know. But, come ! eat it, such
as it is. Come, begin ! "

" But have you all got some too ? " asked the hungry boy, as
he eyed the fish.

"Oh, yes,— George and all," said Mildred. ''We ate ours
first, because you were so sound asleep, we did not like to wake
you."

"How long have I been asleep?" asked Oliver, beginning
heartily upon his fish. *' How could you get this nice fish ?

54 The Settlers at Home.

How busy you must have been all this time that I have been
asleep ! "

"AH this time ! " exclaimed Mildred. " Why, you have been
asleep only half an hour ; hardly so much. We have only just
lighted the fire, and cooked the fish, and fed Geordie, and put
him to sleep, and got our own breakfast; — and we were not long
about that, — we were so very hungry ! That is all we have done
since you went to sleep."

" It seems a great deal for half an hour," said Oliver. " How
good this fish is ! Where did you get it ? "

" I found it on the stairs. Ah ! I thought you would not
believe it ; but we shall find more, I dare say, as the water sinks ;
and then you will believe what you see."

" On the stairs ! How did it get there ? "

" The same way that the water got there, I suppose, and the
poor little drowned pig that lay close by the same place. There
was a whole heap of fish washed up at the turn of the stairs ;
enough for us all to-day. Ailwin said we must eat them first,
because the pig will keep. Such a nice little clean sucking-pig 1 "

"That puts me in mind of the poor sow," said Oliver. "I
forgot her when we were busy about the cow. I am afraid she
is drowned or starved before this ; but we must see about it."

" Not now," said Mildred. " Do you go to sleep again now.
There is not such a hurry as there was, the waters are going down
so fast."

" Are they, indeed ? — Oh, I do not want to sleep any more.
I am quite wide awake now. Are you sure the flood is going
down ? "

" Only look ! Look at that steep red bank on the Red-hill,
where it was all a green slope yesterday, and covered with water
this morning. Look at the Httle speck of a hillock, where neigh-
bour Gool's house was. We could not see that this morning, I
am sure. And if you will come down, you will find that there is
scarcely any water in the upper rooms now. Geordie might play
at paddling there, as he is so fond of doing in his tub. Ailwin
thinks we might sleep there to-night, if we could only get every-
thing dried."

" We might get many things dried before night, in such a sun
as this. How very hot it is ! "

Oliver ran down, and convinced himself that the flood was
abating fast. It must have swelled up higher within the house
than outside \ for it had sunk three feet in the upper rooms, and
two on the outer walls of the house. Now that the worst of the
danger seemed to be past, the children worked with fresh spirit,
making all possible use of the sunshine for drying their bedding

The Settlers at Home. 5 5

and clothes, in hopes of sleeping in a chamber this night, instead
of on the house-top, which they had feared would be necessary.
Nothing could have made them believe, if they had been told at
sunrise, how cheerfully they would sit down, in the afternoon, to
rest and talk, and hope that they might, after all, meet their father
and mother again soon, alive and well.

CHAPTER VL

ROGER HIS OWN MASTER.

(T

There lay Roger under the tree, thinking that there was nothing
to prevent his having all his own way now, and that he was going
to be very happy. He had always thought it hard that he could
not have his own way entirely, and had been unsatisfied with a
much greater degree of liberty than most people wish or have.

He had hitherto led a wandering life, having no home duties,
no school to go to, no trade to work at, — no garden, or other
pleasure, to fix him to one spot. He had gone, with his uncle,
from sporting on the moors, in one season of the year, to sportin
in the marshes in another; and, wild as was this way of life, it
made his will so much wilder, that he was always wishing for more
liberty still. When his aunt had desired him to watch the kettle,
as it hung over the fire near the tent, or asked him to help her in
shaking out their bedding, or cleaning their utensils, he had turned
sulky, and wished that he lived alone, where he need not be
plagued about other people's affairs. When his uncle had ordered
him to attend at a certain spot and hour, with nets or a gun, he
had been wont to feel himself seized with a sudden desire to
wander in an opposite direction, or to lie half asleep in the sun,
too lazy to work at all. When he had played truant, and re-
turned late to the tent, and found nothing better left to eat than
a dry crust oi bread, or the cold remains of a mess of fish, he had
frequentiy thought how pleasant it would be to have the best of
everything for himself, and only his dog to eat up the rest. So
this boy had often felt and thought \ and so would many think
and feel, perhaps, if there were many as forlorn and friendless as
he, with no one to love and be loved by. Though he had had an
uncle and aunt, he had never had a friend. He knew that they
cared about him only because he could help to keep the tent, and'
take the game ; and, feeling this, it was irksome to him to be
under their orders.

The time was now come for which he had so often longed. He

56 The Settlers at Home,

was his own master completely. There was nobody near who
could order or compel him to do anything ; while he, on his part,
had an obedient servant in his dog. The sky was blue and warm
overhead, and the trees cast a pleasant shade. The Red-hill was
now an island, which he had all to himself ; and it was richly
stocked with game, for his food and sport. Here he could have
his own way, and be completely happy.

Such was Roger's idea when he stole the tinder-box, and crossed
to the hill ; and this was what he said to himself as he cooked his
meal, and when he lay down after it on the grass, with the bees
humming round him, and the sound of the waters being now a
pleasant ripple, instead of the rush and roar of yesterday. He
desired his dog to lie down, and not disturb him ; and he took
this opportunity to change the animal's name. Stephen Redfurn,
taking up the quarrel of the day against the bishops, would have
the dog called " Bishop," and nothing else. Roger had always
wished to call him " Spy ; " but Bishop would never answer to
the name of Spy, or even seem to hear it. Now, however, Bishop
was to be Spy, as there was no one here to indulge the dog with
his old name ; and Spy was told so many times over, and with
all the devices that could be thought of for impressing the fact
on his memory.

This lesson being given, Roger shut his eyes, and thought he
would sleep as long as he chose ; but, in the first place, he found
himself too much heated for sleep. He considered that it was no
wonder, after broiling himself in making a fire to broil his hare.
He wished animals ran about ready cooked — as fruits grow on
the sunny side of trees. It was too bad to have to bustle and
toil for an hour, to get ready what was eaten in ten minutes ; and
it just passed through his mind that, whatever Nan Redfurn might
have sometimes said and done to him, she had usually saved him
all trouble in cooking, and had had his meals ready for him when-
ever he chose to be at the tent at meal times. He rose, and
thought he could find a cooler place, further under the trees.

He did so, and again lay down. Sleep began to steal over
him ; and, at the same time, the thought crept into his mind that
he should never more see Stephen Redfurn. The ideas that come
when one is dropping asleep are very vivid ; and this one startled
Roger so, that Spy found it out, and pricked up his ears, as if at
some alarm. This thought would not go away ; for it so hap-
pened that the last words that Stephen and Roger had spoken
together were angry ones. Stephen had ordered Roger to carry
the fry they had fished for manure to a field, where he had pro-
mised to deposit it by a certain time. Roger had been sure that
the fish would be better for lying in the sun a while longer, and

The Settlet's at Home. 5 7

refused to touch it. No matter which was right about the manure ;
both were wrong in being angry. Stephen had said that Roger
was a young rascal, who would never come to good ; and Roger
had looked impertinently in his uncle^s face, while whistling to the
dog to come with him, and make sport among the water-fowl. It
was that face — that countenance of his uncle's, as he had last seen
it, which was before Roger's eyes now, as he lay dozing. With it
came the angry tones of Stephen's voice, saying that he would
never come to good. Mixed and confused with this was the roar
of a coming flood, and a question (how and whence spoken he
knew not) whether his uncle might not possibly have been saved,
\i he had not, against orders, carried away Bishop — for the dog
was still Bishop in his master's dreams.

Roger started bolt upright, and looked about him. He felt
very tired; but he thought he would not he down again just yet.
It was odd that he could not get sound asleep, so tired as he
was. If he should not .sleep better than this at night, what
should he do ? He wished he had some more of that woman's
cherry-brandy. He had slept sound enough after drinking that.
It was well for Roger that he was not now within reach of in-
toxicating liquors — the state of his mind would probably have
made a drunkard of him.

His mind ran strangely on his uncle, and his uncle's last looks
and words, even as he stood wide awake, and staring at the bee-
hives. A rustle in the briers behind him made him jump as if he
had been shot. It was only a partridge taking wing.

" Whirr away ! " said Roger to her. " You can't go far. You
will have to light again upon my island. You all belong to me —
you swarming creatures ! You may run about awhile, and flutter
away a bit ; but you will all belong to me at last, with Spy to help
me. I'll have some sport, now. Here, Spy ! Spy ! "

Spy had disappeared, and did not come when called. A whistle
brought him, however, at last. He came out of the thicket, lick-
ing his chops. Being commanded to bring his game, he soon
produced two rabbits. It was easy work for the dog to catch
them ; for the poor creatures had no holes here. They had come
to this raised ground from a warren some way off, where they had
been soaked out of their holes.

Spy was praised for everything but not answering to his name.
For that he was lectured, and then sent off again, to try what he
could find. He brought in prey of various kinds ; for he could
not stir among the trees without starting some. During the fun,
as Roger thought it, while the terrified birds were fluttering among
the branches of the trees, and the scared animals bursting through
the thicket, Roger resolved that he would not plague himself with

5 8 The Settlers at Home.

any more thoughts of Stephen and Nan. If they were drowned,
it was none of his doing ; and, as for Stephen's anger yesterday,
there was nothing new in that ; Stephen was angry every day of
his hfe. He would not be scared out of his sleep any more by
nonsense. He would not give up having his own way to see
Stephen and Nan under these very trees ; and, as he had got his
own way at last, he would enjoy it.

This mood went on till there was such a heap of dead animals,
that Roger began to think whether he could skin them all, and
clean their skins, in such hot weather as this, before they were
unfit for any use. As for eating them, here was twenty times as
much food as could be eaten while it was good. He did just
remember the children and Ailwin, and how much they probably
wanted food ; but he settled that it was no business of his; and
he was not going to trouble himself to leave his island for any-
body. He would call in Spy, and tie him up ; for there must be
no more game killed to-day.

Spy did not come for any calling, — for anything short of the
well-known whistle, as Roger would not utter the name of Bishop.
Roger grew very angry at being obeyed no better than this ; and
his last whistle was so shrill that the dog seemed to know what it

threatened, refused to answer it as long as he dared, and then
came unwillingly, with fear in every attitude. He gave a low
whine when he saw his master ; as he had good reason to do.
Roger tied him to a tree, and then gave loose to his passion. He
thrashed the dog with a switch till the poor creature's whine was
heard and pitied by the children and Ailwin on their house-top ;
and there is no knowing how long the whipping might not have
gone on, if the animal had not at last turned furious, and snapped
at Roger in a way which made him think of giving over, and
finding something else to do with his sovereignty.

He found it was rather dull work, so far, having all his own
way, in an island of his o^n. At last, he bethought himself oi an
amusement he had been fond of before he lived so much in the
moors and the carrs. He bethought himself of bird's-nesting. It
was too late for eggs ; but he thought the bird-families might not
have all dispersed. Here were plenty of trees, and they must be
full of birds ; for, though they were silent to-day (he did wish the
place was not quite so silent !) they sometimes sent their warblings
so far over the carr, that Nan Redfurn would mention them in
the tent. He would see what ailed them, that they would not
give him any music to-day. By incessant cooing, he obtained
an answer from one solitary pigeon ; which he took advantage
of to climb the tree, and look for the nest. He found a nest ;
but there was nothing in it He cHmbed several trees, and found

The Settlers at Home. 5 9

abundance of nests ; but all deserted. Except his solitary pigeon
(which presently vanished), there appeared to be not a winged
creature in all those trees. The birds had been frightened away
by the roar of the flood of yesterday ; and, perhaps, by seeing the
fields, to which they had been wont to resort for their food, all
turned into a waste of muddy waters.

Roger threw to the ground every empty nest he found, hom
the common inability of a boy to keep his hands off a bird's-nest.
When he was tired of climbing trees, he picked up all the scat-
tered nests, and laid them in a long row on the grass. They
looked dismal enough. It is disagreeable to see a range of houses
left half-built (such as may be seen in the neighbourhood of large
towns), with the doorways gaping, and the window-spaces empty,
and roofs hardly covering in the dark inside ; but such a row of
houses is less dismal than Roger*s array of birds'-nests. There is
something in the very make of a bird's-nest which rouses thoughts
of blue or red-spotted eggs, of callow young birds, with their
large hungry eyes and beaks, or of twittering fledglings, training
for a Slimmer life of pleasure. To see, instead of these, their
silent empty habitations, extended in a long row, would be enough
to make any one dull and sad. So Roger found. He kicked

them into a heap under a tree, and thought that they would make

a fine crackling fire. He would burn them, every one.

While he was wondering whether any birds would come back
to miss their nests, it struck him that he had not thought how
he was to pass the night It was nothing new to him to sleep in
the open air. He liked it best at this season. But he had
usually had a rug to lie upon, with the tent over him ; or a
blanket ; or, at worst, he had a sack to creep into. The clothes
he had on were old and thin; and as he looked at them, it made
him angry to think that he was not to have everything as he liked
it, after all. Here he should have to pass a cold night, and with
nothing between him and the hard ground. He thought of
gathering leaves, moss, and high grass, to roll himself up in, like
a squirrel in its hole ; but the trouble was what he did not like.
He stood listlessly thinking how much trouble it would cost to
collect moss and leaves for the purpose j and, while he was so
thinking, he went on pelting his dog with birds'-nests, and seeing
how the angry dog, unable to get loose, snapped up and shook to
pieces the nests which fell within his reach.

Roger knew that he ought to be skinning some of the dead
animals, if he really meant to secure all their skins, before it
was too late ; but this also was troublesome. Instead of doing
this, he went round the hill, to see what the Linacres were about,
resolving by no means to appear to see them, if they should be

6o The Settlers at Home.

making signs from the window to have the things back again
that he had carried away. On coming out of the shade on that
side of the hill, he was surprised to see smoke still going up from
his fire, considering that the fire was nearly out when he had left
it. Something more strange met his eye as he ran forward. There
was the nice clean blanket spread out on the ground, with the
tinder-box in the middle.

" Somebody has been here I " cried Roger, much offended.
" What business has anybody in my island ? Coming when
my back is turned ! If I had only heard them coming to
meddle ! "

Just then, his eye fell on the rug, blanket, and knife and fork
left by Oliver, — the very accommodation he had been wishing
for, and more. When he felt the thick warm rug, he gave over
his anger at some one having entered his island without his
leave, and, for a moment, again felt pleased and happy. But when
he saw that the bridge-basket was gone — that other people had
the means of coming in upon him when they pleased — he was
more angry than he had been all day.

" However," thought he, " I got over to the house before any-
one else crossed the water, and I can do the same again when-
ever I please. I have only to swim over with Spy, and bring

away anything I like, while they are busy on the other side,
about their good-for-nothing cow, or something. That will be
tit-for-tat."

He was doubly mistaken here. His going over to steal com-
forts from the Linacres would not be tit-for-tat for Oliver's coming
over to his father's hill, to bring away his mother's clothes basket,
and leave comforts for an unwelcome visitor ! Neither could
Roger now enter the Linacres' dwelling when he pleased, by
swimming the stream. He saw this when he examined and con-
sidered. The water had sunk so as to show a few inches of
the top of the entrance-door and lower windows. It was not
high enough to allow of his getting in at the upper window, as
he did yesterday ; and too high for entrance below. The stream
appeared to be as rapid and strong as ever ; and it shot its "force
through the can* as vehemently as at first ; for it was almost, or
quite as deep as ever. It had worn away soil at the bottom of
its channel, to nearly or quite the same depth as it had sunk at
the surface j so that it was still working against the walls and
foundation of the house, and the soil of the hill, with as much
force as during the first hour. When Roger examined the red
precipice from which he looked down upon the rushing stream,
he perceived that not a yard of Linacres' garden could now be
in existence. That garden, with its flourishing vegetables, its

TJu Settlers at Home. 6i

rare, gay, sweet flowers, and its laden fruit trees, — that garden
which he and Stephen could not help admiring, while they told
everybody that it had no business in the middle of their carr, —
that garden, its earth and its plants, was all spread in ruins over
the marsh ; and instead of it would be found, if the waters could
be dried up, a deep, gravelly, stony watercourse, or a channel of
red mud. Roger wondered whether the boy and girl were aware
of this fate of their garden ; or whether they supposed that every-
thing stood fast and in order under the waters. He wanted to
point out the truth to them; and looked up to the chamber
window, in hopes that they might be watching him from it. No
one was there, however. On glancing higher, he saw them sitting
within the balustrade on the roof. They were all looking another
way, and not appearing to think of him at all. He watched them
for a long while ; but they never turned towards the Red-hill. He
could have made them hear by calling ; but they might think he
wished to be with them, or wanted something from, instead of un-
derstanding that he desired to tell them that their pretty garden
was destroyed. So he began to settle with himself which of his
dead game he would have for supper, and then fed his fire, in
order to cook it. He now thought that he should have liked a
bird for supper, — a pheasant or partridge instead of a rabbit
or leveret ; of which he had plenty. He felt it very provoking
that he had neither a net nor a gun, for securing feathered game,
when there was so much on the hill ; so that he must put up
with four-footed game, when he had rather have had a bird.
There was no bread either, or vegetables ; but he minded that
less, because neither of these were at hand, and he had often lived
for a long time together on animal food. During the whole
time of his listless preparations for cooking his supper, he
glanced up occasionally at the roof; but he never once saw the
party look his way. He thought it very odd that they should care
so much less about him, than he knew they did when Stephen and
he came into the carr. They neither seemed to want him nor to
fear him to-day.

At length he went to set Spy loose, in order to feed him, and
to have a companion ^; for he felt rather dull, while seeing how
busily the party on the house-top were talking. When he returned
with Spy, the sun had set, and there was no one on the house-top.
A faint light from the chamber window told that Ailwin and the
children were there. Roger wondered how they had managed
to kindle a fire, while he had the tinder-box. He learned the
truth, soon after, by upsetting the tinder-box, as he moved the
blanket The steel fell out; and the flint and tinder were found

to be absent In his present mood he considered it a prodi-

62 The Settlers at Home.

gious impertinence to impose upon him the labour of finding
a flint the next day, and the choice whether to make tinder
of a bit of his shirt, or to use shavings of wood instead. He
determined to show, meanwhile, that he had plenty of fire
for to-night, and therefore heaped it up so high, that there was
some danger that the lower branches of the ash under which he
sat would shrivel up with the heat.

No blaze that he could make, however, could conceal from his
own view the cheerful light from the chamber window. There
was certainly a good fire within ; and those who sat beside it
were probably better companions to each other than Spy was to
him. The dog was dull and would not play; and Roger himself
soon felt too tired, or something, to wish to play. He could not
conceal from himself that he should much like to be in that
chamber from which the light shone, even though there was no
cherry-brandy there now.

The stars were but j ust beginning to drop into the sky, and
the waste of waters still looked yellow and bright to the west;
but Roger's first day of having his own way had been quite long
enough ; and he spread his rug, and rolled himself in his blanket
for the night. Spy, being invited, drew near, and lay down too.

Roger was still overheated, from having made such an enormous

fire ; but he muffled up his head in his blanket, as if he was afraid
lest even his dog should see that he was crying.

CHAPTER Vn.

ROGER NOT HIS OWN MASTER.

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

The Settlers at Home. G'l^

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 soHtude,
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 him-
self, 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, how-
ever, who had been accustomed to drink water like this as often
as he had been settled in the carr, though he had occasionally

64 The Settlers at Home.

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 dis-
posed 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. YouVe 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

The Settlers at Home. 65

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 conver-
sation. He now flung down the basket line, and returned. Roger
was not long in following, with some of his game, some firewood,
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 per-
suaded, at length, to stroke the leveref 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 die 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

F

66 The Settlers at Home.

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 ceiUng 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 dining 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 sim-
mered 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 grow-
ing 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 depend-
ing 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 neigbour 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

The Settlers at Home, 6*/

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 some-
thing 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 eveiy quarter of an hour, which it would be worth while to
seize and bring home. As Roger saw, now a haycock, 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

F 2

68 The Settlers at Home.

staring rafters. She longed to stand somewhere, and see the boys
take prizes in the stream. She had held poor George all the
morning j 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 j 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 j 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 comer 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 Iamb,
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 I 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,

The Settlers at Home, 69

trembling; "and leather harness and ropes to tie it with. I
think they might to do it as they said. What harm Ao you sup-
pose 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 ityf 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
upstairs 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 tYt% 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 o^ ground, thrust-
ing 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 I" She then remembered having read of men

70 The Settlers at Home,

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 I 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 pick-
ing 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, work-
ing 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 oflf 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 tliey were all knocked ofl", instead of keeping other people
cut 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

The Settlers at Home. 7 1

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 httle 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 con-
sidered (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 her-
seK 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
estabhshed 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 finiit
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 oi a petticoat. She was

72 The Settlers at Home,

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 per-
petually 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
s]m used her paddle, setting her feet against one stone, and press-
ing 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 shd 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, — calHng out to Oliver, —

" Well done, Oliver ! Well rid of him ! Pull away from him,
Oliver 1 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

The Settlers at Home, 73

"Oh! Oliver, where is he? What have you done?" cried
Mildred, as her brother arrived at the wall.

Oliver was very hot, and his lips quivered as he answered, —

" I don't know what I have done. I could not help it. He
wanted me not to come to you when you screamed. He wanted
to catch the chest instead. I tripped him up — off into the water.
He can swim. But there is the tub — give me hold of the rope —
quick ! I will send it out into the stream. He may meet it"

Down went all the gathered apples into the water, within the
wall, and off went the tub outside. Oliver fastened the line round
a heavy stone in the wall.

" I wish I had never screamed !" exclaimed Mildred.

" I am sure I wish so too. You must leave off screaming so,
Mildred. I am sure I thought you were in the water, in the
middle of all that splash, or I should not have been in such a
hurry. If Roger should be drowned, it will be all your doing, for
screaming so."

Mildred did not scream now ; but she cried very bitterly. It
was soon seen, however, that Roger was safe. He was swimming
in the still water on the opposite side, and presently landed beside
the pony and cow. He left off wringing the wet out of his hair
and clothes, to shake both his fists at Oliver in a threatening way.

"Oh, look at him! He will kill you!" cried Mildred "I
never will scream again.''

" Never mind, as long as he is safe," said Oliver. " I don't
care for his shaking his fists. It was my business to save you,
before caring about him, or all the chests in the Levels. Never
mind now, dear. You wont scream again without occasion, I
know. What made you do so ? You can't think what a shriek it
was. It went through my head."

" Part of the wall fell ; and the whole of it shakes so, I am sure
it will all be down presently. I wish we were at home. But
what shall we ever do about Roger ? He will kill you, if you go
near him : and he can't stay there."

" Leave Roger to me," said Oliver, feeling secretly some of his
sister's fear oi the consequences of what had just passed. He
stepped on the wall, and was convinced that it was shaking, —
almost rocking. He declared that it was quite unsafe, and that
he must look to the remaining walls before they slept another
night in the building. Mildred must get upon the raft immediately.
What was that heap of blue cloth ?

Mildred explained, and the cloth was declared too valuable to
be left behind. Two pairs of hands availed io pull up the end
which stuck under water, and then the children found themselves
in possession of a whole piece of homespun.

74 The Settlers at Home.

"May we use it? We did not make it, or buy it," said
Mildred.

"I thought of that too," replied her brother. "We will see
about that. It is our business to save it, at any rate ; so help me
with it. How heavy it is with the water ! "

They pulled a dozen apples, and rowed away home with their
prize.

Ailwin said, as she met them on the stairs, that she was glad
enough to see them home again ; and more especially without
Roger.

"Roger must be fetched, however,^' said Oliver, "and the
sooner the better."

" Oh not yet I " pleaded Mildred. " He is so angry ! "

" That is the very thing," said Oliver. " I- want to show him
that I tripped him over, not in anger, but because I could not
help it. He will never believe but that it was malice, from begin-
ning to end, if I do not go for him directly."

" But he will thrash you. You know he can. He is ever so
much stronger than you ; and he is in such a passion, I do not
know what he may not do."

" What can I do ? '* said Oliver. '^ I can't leave him there,
standing dripping wet, with the cow and the pony."

"Would it be of any use if I were to go with you, and say it
was all my fault ? " asked Mildred, trembling.

" No, no ; you must not go."

" I would go, if there was no water between, and if Mildred
would take care of the baby," said Ailwin.

" Oh do, — do go ! You are so strong \ " said both the
children.

" Why, you see, I can't abide going on the water, any way, and
never could : and most of all without so much as a boat"

" But I will row you as carefully," said Oliver, " as safely as in
any boat. You see how often we have crossed, and how easy
it is. You cannot think what care I will take of you, if you

will go."

"Then there's the coming back," objected Ailwin. "If I am
on board the same raft with Roger, we shall all go to the bottom,
that's certain 1 "

" How often have I been to the bottom ? And yet I have
been on the raft with Roger, ever since it was made."

" Well, and think how near Mildred was going to the bottom,
only just now. I declare I thought we had seen the last of her."

" Roger had nothing to do with that, you know very well.
But I will tell you how we can manage. You can carry your pail
over, and, — (never mind its being so early) — you can be milking

The Settlers at Home. 75

the cow while I bring Roger over here ; and I can come back
for you. That will do, — wont it? Come, — fetch your pail.
Depend upon it that is the best plan."

Mildred remembered, with great fear, that by this plan Roger
would be left with her and George while Oliver went to fetch
Ailwin home : but she did not say a word, feeling that she who
had caused the mischief ought not to object to Oliver's plan for
getting out of the scrape. She need not have feared that Oliver
would neglect her feelings. Just before he put off with Ailwin
and her milk-pail, he said to his sister —

" I shall try to set Roger down somewhere, so that he cannot
plague you and George ; but you had better bolt yourself into the
room upstairs when you see us coming ; and on no account open
the door again till I bid you."

Mildred promised, and then sat down with George asleep on
her lap, to watch the event. She saw Ailwin make some odd
gestures as she stood on the raft, balancing herself as if she thought
the boards would gape under her i^^t. Oliver paddled diligently,
looking behind him oftener and oftener, as he drew near the land-
ing-place, as if to learn what Roger meant to do when they came
within his reach.

The moment the boys were within arm's length of each other,

Roger sprang furiously upon Oliver, and would have thrown him
down in an instant, if Oliver had not expected this, and been upon
his guard. Oliver managed to jump ashore; and there the boys
fought fiercely. There could be no doubt from the beginning
which would be beaten, — Roger was so much the taller and
stronger of the Xv^o, and so much the less peaceable in all his
habits than Oliver : but yet Oliver made good fight for some time,
before he was knocked down completely. Roger was just about
to give his fallen enemy a kick in the stomach, when Ailwin seized
him, and said she was not going to see her young master killed
before her face, by boy or devil, whichever Roger might be. She
tripped him up ; and before Oliver had risen, Roger lay sprawling,
with Ailwin kneeling upon him to keep him down. Roger shouted
out that they were two to one, — cowards, to fight him two to one !
** I am as sorry for that as you can be," said Oliver, dashing
away the blood which streamed from his nose. " I wish I were
as old and as tali as you : but I am not. And this is no fighting
for play, when it would not signify if I was beaten every day for a
week. Here are Mildred and the baby; I have to take care of
them till we know what has become of my father and mother :
and if you try to prevent me, I will get Ailwin, or anybody or
thing I can, to help me, sooner than they shall be hurt. If father
and mother ever come back to take care of Mildred, I will fight

7^ The Settlers at Home,

you every day till I beat you, and let nobody interfere : but till
then, I will go to Mildred as often as she calls, if you drown for
it, as I showed you this morning."

Roger answered only by fresh kicks and struggles. Ailwin said
aloud that she saw nothing for it but leaving him on this spit of
land, to starve on the dunghill. There would be no taking him
over to the house in this temper. Roger vowed he would drown
all the little pigs, and hough the cow. He had done such a thing
before ; and he would do it again ; so that" they should not have
a drop more milk for George.

" That will never do," said Oliver. " Ailwin, do you think we
could get him over to the Red-hill ? He would have plenty to
eat there, and might do as he pleased, and be out of our way and
the cow's. I could carry him his dog."

Ailwin asked Oliver to bring her the cord from off the raft, and
they two could tie up the boy from doing mischief Oliver brought
the cord, but he could not bear to think of using it so.

" Come, now, Roger," said he, " you picked this quarrel ; and
you may get out of it in a moment. We don't want to quarrel at
such a time as this. Never mind what has happened. Only say
you wont meddle between me and the others while the flood
lasts ; and you shall help me to row home, and I will thank you.
After all, we can fight it out some other day, if you like."

More kicks from Roger. No other answer. So Oliver and
Ailwin tied his arms and legs with the cord ; and then Ailwin
proceeded to milk the cow, and Oliver, after washing his face, to
give the pony some more hay, and see how the little pigs went on.
The animals were all drooping, and especially the cow. Oliver
wished to have given the pigs some of her milk, as the poor sow
seemed weak and ill ; but the cow gave so very little milk this
afternoon, that there was none to spare. Her legs trembled as
she stood to be milked ; and she lay down again, as soon as
Ailwin had done.

"The poor thing ain't long for this world," said Ailwin.
" Depend upon it that boy has bewitched her. I don't believe
she trembles in that way when he is on the other side of the
water,"

" You will see that in the morning," said Oliver. " Shall we
take him on the raft now? I don't like to carry him tied so, for
fear he should throw himself about, and roll over into the water.
He would certainly be drowned."

" Leave that to him, Oliver : and take my word for it, that boy
was never made to be drowned."

" You thought the same about Stephen, you know ] and he is
drowned, I am afraid."

Tlw Settlers at Home, yj

" Neither you nor I know that. I will beheve it when I see
it," said Ailwin with a wise look.

It was now Roger's mood to lie like one dead. He did not
move a muscle when he was lifted, and laid on the raft Ailwin
was so delighted to see the boy she was so afraid of thus humbled,
that she could not help giving his face a splash and rub with the
muddy water of the stream as he lay.

"Ailwin, for shame!" cried Oliver. "I will fight you next,
if you do so. You know you durst not, if his hands were free."

" To be sure, Oliver, that is the very reason. One must take
one's revenge while one can. However, I wont notice him any
more till you do."

" Cannot you set down your pail, and help me to row ? " asked
Oliver. He was quite tired. The raft was heavy now ; his nose
had not left off bleeding, and his head ached sadly. Three pulls
from Ailwin brought them nearer home than all Oliver's previous
efforts. He observed that they must get round the house, if
possible, and into the stream which ran through the garden, so as
to land Roger on the Red-hill.

There was not much difficulty in getting round, as everything
like a fence had long been swept away. As they passed near the
entrance-door to the garden, they observed that the waters were

still sinking. They stood now only half-way up the door-posts.
Oliver declared that when he was a little less tired, he would go
through the lower rooms in a tub, and see whether he could pick
up anything useful. He feared, however, that almost everything
must have been swept off through the windows, in the water-falls
that Mildred had thought so pretty, the first day of the flood.

" There is a chest ! '* exclaimed Oliver, pointing to a little creek
in which a stout chest had stuck. " Roger, I do believe it is the
very chest that .... that we bega'n our quarrel about Come,
now, is not this a sign that we ought to make it up ? "

Roger would not appear to hear: so his companions made
short work of it They pulled in for the shore of the Red-hill,
and laid Roger on the slimy bank : — for they saw no occasion to
cany one so heavy and so sulky up to the nice bed of grass which
was spread at the top of the red precipice that the waters had cut
Oliver knew that there was a knife in Roger's pocket. He took
it out, cut the cord which tied his wrists, and threw the knife to
a little distance, where Roger could easily reach it in order to free
his legs ; but not in time to overtake them before they should
have put off again.

Roger made one catch at Oliver's leg, but missing it, lay again
as if dead ; and Ailwin believed he had not yet stirred when the
raft rounded the house again, with the great chest in tow.

2 8 The Settlers at Home.

Mildred was delighted to see them back, and especially with-
out Roger. She thought Oliver's face looked very shocking . but
Oliver would not say a word about this, or anything else, till he
had found Roger's dog, and gone over in the basket, to set him
ashore with his master.

"There !" said he, as he stepped in at the window when this
was accomplished, " we have done their business. There they
are, in their desert island, as they were before. Now we need
not think any more about them, but attend to our own affairs."

" Your face, Oliver 1 Pray do "

"Never mind my face, dear, if it does not frighten poor
Geordie. How is poor Geordie ? "

" I do not think he is any better. I never saw him so fretful,
and so hot and ilL And he cries so dreadfully ! "

CHAPTER VIII.

NEW QUARTERS.

AiLwiN presently made George's supper, with milk, a little

thickened with meal. They were all about the child, watching
how he would take it, when a loud crack was heard.

*' What is that ? " cried Oliver.

"It is a crack," said Ailwin, "in the wall or somewhere. I
heard just such a one while Mildred was gone out to play, after
dinner."

" And there was another while you were away," said Mildred.
" Some plaster fell that time : — look here ! in this comer. — ^What
is the matter, Oliver? What makes you look so frightened?
What does it mean ? "

" It means, I am afraid, that more of the house is coming
down. Look at this great zigzag crack in the wall ! — and how
loose the plaster hangs in that part of the ceiling ! I really think,
— I am quite sure, we ought not to stay here any longer."

" But where can we go ? What shall we do ? "

" We must think about that, and lose no time. I think this
room will fall very soon."

Mildred could not help crying, and saying that they could not
settle themselves, and rest at all. She never saw anything like
it They were all so tired they did not know what to do ; and
now they should have to work as hard as ever. She never saw
anything like it.

"No, dear, never," said her brother: "and thousands of

The Settlers at Home. 79

people, far older than you, never saw anything like this flood.
But you know, Mildred, we must not die, li we can help it."

This reminded Mildred who it was that set them these heavy
tasks, — that bade them thus labour to preserve the lives He gave.
She was silent Oliver went on —

" If ever we meet father and mother again, we shall not mind
our having been ever so much tired now. We shall like telling
them all our plans and doings, if it should please God that we
should ever sit with them by the fire-side."

" Or whenever we meet them in heaven, if they should not
be alive now," said Mildred.

" Yes, dear; but we will talk over all that when we get to the
P.ed-hill : — we must not talk any more now, but set to work. How-
ever, I really think, Mildred, that father and mother are still
alive somewhere. I feel as if they were."

"But the Red-hill," said Mildred, "what do you mean about
the Red-hill? We are not going there, where Roger is, — are

we?"

"We must, dear. There is no other place. Roger is very
unkind : but floods and falling houses are unkinder still. Come,
Ailwin, help me with the raft. We must carry away what we can
before dark. There will be no house standing to-morrow morn-
ing, I am afraid."

** Sleep on the ground!" exclaimed Ailwin. " Without a roof
to cover us / My poor grandfather little thought I should ever

come to that."

" If you will move the beds, you need not sleep on the bare

ground," said Oliver. " Now, Ailwin, don't you begin to cry.

Pray don't. You are a grown-up woman, and Mildred and I are

only children. You ought to take care of us, instead of beginning

to cry."

"That is pretty true," said Ailwin : "but I little thought ever
to sleep without a roof over my head."

" Come, come, there are the trees," said Oliver. " They are
something of a roof, while the leaves are on."

" And there is all that cloth," said Mildred ; " that immensely
long piece of cloth. Would not that make a tent, somehow ? "

"Capitall" cried O liven "How well we shall be off with a
cloth tent \ It seems as if that cloth was sent on purpose. It
is so spoiled already, that we can hardly do it any harm. And I
am sure the person that v^qvq it would be very glad that it should
cover our heads to-night. I shall carry it and you across before
anything else — this very minute. I will run down and bring the
raft round to the door below. The water is low enough now
for you to get out that way. — Oh dear ! I wish I was not so tired !

8o The Settlers at Home,

I can hardly move. But I must forget all that ; for it will not do
to stay here."

While he was gone, Mildred asked Ailwin whether she was
very tired.

** Pretty much ; but not so bad as he/' replied Ailwin.

" Then do not you think you and I could fetch oif a good
many things, while he watches Geordie on the grass ? If you
thought you could row the raft, I am sure I could carry a great
many things down stairs, and land them on the hill."

Ailwin had no doubt she could row, in such a narrow and gen-
tle stream as now ran through the garden.

She made the trial first when Oliver was on board, and several
other times with Mildred, succeeding always very well, Oliver
was extremely glad of this ; for the bridge-basket had been used
so much, and sometimes for such heavy weights, that it was
wearing out, and might break down at any moment The bridge-
rope, too, being the stoutest cord they had, was very useful for
tying the raft to the trunk of the beech, so that it could not be
carried away. When once this rope was well fastened, Oliver
was content to rest himself on the grass beside Geordie, and let
the strong Ailwin and little Mildred work as they wished. It
surprised him, well as he knew Ailwin, to see the loads she
could carry, bringing a good-sized mattress up the bank as
easily as he could have carried a pillow. She wrung the wet
out of the long piece of homespun, and spread it out in the sun,
to dry as much as it could before dark, and seemed to think no
more of it than Mildred did of washing her doll's petticoat.

Mildred took charge of the lighter articles that required care
— her mother's china, for one thing; for it was found that
nothing made of earthenware remained unbroken in the lower
rooms. There were some pewter plates, which were now lodged
under the beech, together with pots and pans, knives and forks,
and horn spoons. There was no table light enough to be moved,
but a small one of deal, which Ailwin dragged out from under
water, with all its legs broken : but enough of it remained entire
to make it preferable to the bare ground for preparing their food
on, when once it should be dry. There was a stool a-piece — ^not
forgetting one for Roger ; and Mildred took care that Geordie
should have his own little chair. Not even Ailwin could carry a
chest of drawers : but she carried down the separate drawers,
with the clothes of the family in them. No one of the house-
hold had ever seen a carpet ; but there was matting on some of
the floors. Ailwin pulled up pieces of this, to be some protec-
tion against the damp and insects of the ground.

It is as wet as water now," said she; "but we must not

The Settlers at Home. 8 1

quarrel with anything to-day on that account ; and matting will
dr}"^ on the hill better than at home. If it turns out rotten, we
must try and spare a piece of the cloth from overhead, to lay
underfoot : but George will feel it more like home, if he has a bit
of matting to trip his little foot against"

So down-stairs went a great bundle of wet matting.

" Will not that do for to-night ? " asked Oliver, languidly, as
he saw Ailwin preparing to put oif again, when the sun was just
touching the western hills. " You know we have to put up the
tent, and get something to eat before we can go to sleep ; and
it has been such a long, long day ! *'

" As you please," said Ailwin ; "but you said the house would
be down in the night ; and there are many things yet that we
should be sorry to have to do without"

" Never mind them : — let them go, I am sure we all want to
be asleep more than anything else."

" Sleep, indeed ! Do you suppose I shall sleep with that boy
hid among the trees ? Not I, you may rely upon it Those may
that can : and I will watch."

No one had yet mentioned Roger, though all felt that his
presence was a terrible drawback to the comfort of their establish-
ment on the hill, which might otherwise be, in fine weather, a
tolerably pleasant one. It made Oliver indignant to think that a
stout lad, whom they had wished to make welcome to all they
had, in their common adversity, should be skulking in the wood
as an enemy, instead of helping them in their labours, under
circumstances in which all should be friends. This thought
made Oliver so angry that he did not choose to speak of Roger.
When Ailwin offered to seek him out, and do her best to tie his
limbs again, and carry him away to any place the children chose,
Oliver begged her to say no more about it ; and observed that
they had better forget Roger altogether, if they could, unless he
should come to make peace.

There was one, however, who could not for a moment forget

who was the cause of the late quarrel. Mildred was very unhappy

at the thought of the mischief she had done by her shriek. Not

all her hard toil of this evening could console her. When the

cloth had been spread over the lower branches of a great ash, so

as to shelter the party, in a careless way, for this one night (when

there was no time to make a proper tent), and while Ailwin was

heating something for supper, and Oliver dozing with George on

one of the beds, Mildred stole away, to consider whether there

was anything that she could do to cure Roger*s anger. It did her

good, at least, to sit down and think about it. She sat down

under a tree, above where the bee-shed had stood. The moon

a

82 TJie Settlers at Home.

had just risen, and was very bright, being near the full. The
clouds seemed to have come down out of the sky, to rest upon
the earth ; for white vapours, looking as soft as wreaths of snow,
were hovering over the wide waste of waters. Some of these
were gently floating or curling, while others brooded still, like
large white birds over their hidden nests. It seemed to Mildred's
eye, however, as if a clear path had been cut through these mists,
from the Red-hill to the moon on the horizon, and as if this path
had been strewed with quivering moonbeams. She forgot, while
gazing, that she was looking out upon the carr, — upon muddy
waters which covered the ruins of many houses, and in which
were hidden the bodies of drowned animals, and perhaps of some
people. She looked upon the train of trembling light, and felt not
only how beautiful it was, but that He whose hand kindled that
mild heavenly lamp, and poured out its rays before his children's
eyes, would never forget and forsake them. While everything
was made so beautiful as to seem ordered for the pleasure of men,
their lives and common comforts could not be overlooked. So
plain did this now appear to Mildred, that she felt less and \qs^
anxious and fearful ; and, after a time, as if she was afraid of
nothing at all, and could never be afraid again.

She determined to go and seek Roger,— not with any wish like

Ailwin's, that he could be bound by force, and carried away, to
be alone and miserable, — but with a much happier hope and
purpose. She did not think he would hurt her; but, if he did,
she had rather that he should strike her than that Oliver and he
should fight, day after day, as Ailwin had whispered to her they
meant to do. She did not believe he could come to blows with
Ohver again, after she had taken all the blame upon herself. So
she set forth to do so.

She went on quickly enough while she was upon the slope, in
the full moonlight, and with the blaze of Ailwin's fire not far off
on her right hand. But she felt the difference when she entered
the shade of the trees. It was rather chilly there, and very silent.
There was only a rustle in the grass and brambles about her ittX^
as if she disturbed some small animals hidden there. When she
thought she was far enough away from her party not to be heard
by them, she began to call softly, hoping that Roger might pre-
sently answer, so that she should not have to go much further
into the darkness. But she heard nothing but her ovm voicq^ as
she called, "Roger ! Where are you, Roger? I want to speak
to you. "

Further and further on she went ; and still there was no reply.
Though she knew every inch of her way, she tripped several times
over the roots of the trees ; and once she fell. She saw the stars

The Settlers at Home. 83

in the spaces of the wood, as she looked up, and knew that she
should soon come out upon the grass again. But when she did
so, she foiuid it almost as dark as in the wood, though the moon
shone on the waters afar. She still went on calling Roger — now a
little louder, till she stumbled over something which was not the
root of a tree, for it was warm, and it growled.

" Bishop 1 " she exclaimed, in alarm ; for next to Roger, she
had always been afraid of Roger's dog.

" Why don't you call him Spy ? " said Roger's voice, from the
ground just before her. " What business have you to call him by
his wrong name ? — how is he ever to learn his name if people
come calling him by the wrong one ? Get away — will you ? I
know what I'll do if you come here, spoiling my dog."

" I will go back directly when I have said one thing. It was
all my fault that you and Oliver quarrelled this morning. I wa s
frightened, and screamed when I ought not ; and it is my fault
that you are not now by our fire, getting your supper with us, in
our tent I am sure, I wish you were there."

"Very fine," said Roger. "He knows I thrashed him; and
he does not want any more of it. But I'll thrash him as long as I
live ; I tell you that."

" Oliver does not know about ixiy coming — ^he is asleep in the
tent," protested Mildred. "Nobody knows of my coming. I
don't beheve Oliver would have let me come, if he had known it.
Only go and look yourself; and you will see how he lies asleep
on the grass. We know you can beat him in fighting, because
you axe so much bigger ; and that is why I cannot bear that he
should fight. It was all about me this time ; and I know he will
never give up ; and I don't know how long it will be before he is
big enough to thrash you."

" Long enough, I can tell you : so get away, and let me go to
sleep ; or I'll tlurash you too."

" How can you talk so, Roger, and keep your anger so, when
we are all so unhappy ? I did not wonder much before, when
Ailwin had to help Oliver .... That was enough to make you
or anybody be angry. But now, when I come to tell you how
sony I am, and that I know, if I ask Oliver, that he will be glad
to forget everything, and that you should come to supper with us,
instead of lying here in the dark, with nothing to eat, I do think
you ought to forgive and forget; to forgive me, and forget all
about thrashing Oliver."

Roger made no answer.

"Good-bye, Roger," said Mildred. "I am sorry that you
choose to lie here, hungry and cold, instead of . . . . "

"What business have yoyimmy island?" interrupted Roger,

G 2

$4 The Settlers at Home,

fiercely. " How dared you settle upon my ground, to mock me
with your fire and your supper ? I'll have my fire and my supper

too."

" I hope you will, if you will not come to ours. We were
obliged to settle here — the house is all cracking, and faUing to
pieces. We were very sorry to come, — we were all so tired ^ —
but we dared not stay in the house."

Roger uttered an exclamation which showed that a new light
had broken upon him, as to the causes of their removal.

" Poor Geordie is so ill, we were most sorry to have to move
him. The time will come, Roger, though you don't think so now,
when you will be vexed that while we cannot tell whether father
and mother are alive or dead, and whether George will live or die,
you put the pain of quarrels upon us too."

" Well, get you gone now ! " said Roger, not immediately dis-
covering that she was some paces on her way home again before
he said that much.

Mildred heard Ailwin calling her to supper, as she drew near
the tent. She did not say where she had been ; but perhaps she
was more on the watch, in consequence of what had passed. She
soon saw that Roger was sauntering under the trees ; and indeed

what she had said, and what he now saw together, had altered

Roger's mind. He was hungry, and once more tired of being
alone and sulky. He was thinking how comfortable the fire and
the steaming kettle looked, and considering how he should make
his approach, when Mildred jumped up, and came running to him.

" They don't know that I came to find you," said she. " Oliver
will think it so kind of you to come and be friends ! He will be
so pleased ! And there is plenty of supper for everybody."

She ventured to put her hand in his, and lead him forwards
into the light. She told Oliver that Roger was willing to for^ve
and forget ; and Oliver said that he was quite willing too. Oliver
set a stool for Roger, and offered him his own basin of broth.
Ailwin held her tongue ; — which was the most that could be ex-
pected of her.

Roger did not quite know what to say and do, when he had
finished his supper, and fed Spy. He swung his legs, as he sat
upon his stool, stared into the fire, andlbegan to whistle. Roger's
shrillest whistle, as it had been sometimes heard in the carr, was
anything but agreeable : but his low whistle, when he was not
thinking about it, was soft and sweet A gentle chuckle was soon
heard from George, as he lay across Mildred's knees.

" He likes it \ He hkes such a whistle as that I " exclaimed
Mildred. Her eyes said to Roger, " Do go on ! "

Roger went on whistling, better and better, — more and more

The Settlers at Home. 85

softly, he drawing nearer, till he quite bent over the poor sick
child, who, after many signs of pleasure, dropped off into a sleep,
— a quiet, sound sleep.

" Thank you ! " said Oliver, heartily. " Thank you, Roger ! "
" You will do it again to-morrow, will not you, if he should be
fretful ? " said Mildred.

Roger nodded. Then he made the cloth drapery hang better
over the pillows on which the child was laid, — so as to keep off
the dew completely, he said. Then he nodded again, when Oliver
gave him a blanket: and once more he nodded good night, before
he rolled himself up in it under a neighbouring tree.

CHAPTER IX.

ONE PRISONER RELEASED.

In the morning, it appeared that it had been right to remove to
the Red-hill the night before. Only some fragments of the roof
of the house remained. Some beams and a quantity of rubbish
had fallen into the room where the party had lived since the
flood came; and a heap of this rubbish lay on the very spot where
Mildred would have been sleeping if they had stayed. All saw
and considered this with awe. Roger himself looked first at the
little girl, and then at that part of the ruin, as if imagining what it
would have been for her to be lying there, and wondering to see
her standing here, alive and unhurt.

" Look how that wall stands out ; " said Oliver. " The faster
the house falls, the more haste we must make to save what we caa"

" Oh ! cannot you stay quietly to-day ? " asked Mildred. " I
think we have got all we really want ; and this bustle and hurry
and hard work every day are so tiresome ! Cannot we keep still
and rest to-day ? "

" To-morrow, dear," replied her brother. " To-morrow is Sun-
day ! and we will try to rest. But there is no knowing how long
we may have to live in this place, in the middle of the waters ;
and it is my duty to save everything I can that can make George
and you and the rest of us comfortable when the colder weather
comes on."

" I wonder what all the world is about, that nobody comes to

see after xis,^' said Mildred, sighing.

" Out of sight, out of mind, Mildred," said Ailwin. « That is
the way, all the world over."

" I am sure it is not," said Oliver. « Mildred and I say as little

86 The Settlers at Home,

as we can about father and mother, but don't you imagine such a
thing as that they are out of our minds. I know Mildred never
shuts her eyes, but she sees the mill floating away, as it did that
evening, and father standing ....'*

He could not go on about that Presently he said, " When
the flood came, I suppose, there were no boats to be had. It
would take the first day to bring them from a distance, and get
them afloat. Then the people would look round (as they ought
to do) to see where they could do most good. Nobody who
looked through a glass this way, since the day before yesterday,
and saw those rafters sticking up in the air, — the house in ruins as
it is, — ^would suppose that any one could be left alive here. From
a distance, they can hardly fancy that even any little mouse could
help being either drowned or starved. This will be about the
last spot in the Levels that any boat will come to. — You see,
Mildred, our Red-hill, though it is everything to us, is but a speck
compared with the grounds that have stood above water since the
waters began to sink. We had better not think of anything but
living on as we can, unless it should please God that we should

die/'

Roger did not want to hear anything more of this kind ; so he
went to where George was lying, and began to whistle softly to

him. The child was so altered that his own mother would hardly
have known him : but he smiled when he heard the whistle ; and
the smile was his own. He put up his hand and patted Roger's
face, and even pulled his hair with a good stout pull. Roger had
been used to nurse his dog, though not little children. He now
took George into his arms, and laid him comfortably across his
knees, while he whistled till the little fellow looked full in his face,
and puckered up his poor white lips, as if he would whistle too.
This made Roger laugh aloud \ and then George laughed. Ail-
win heard them, and peeped into the comer of the tent where
they were. She flew to Oliver, to tell him that Roger was at his
tricks worse than ever, — he was bewitching the baby. She was
angry at Oliver for telling his sister, when he had looked in too,
that they might have been very glad any of them, to bewitch poor
baby in this manner, when he was crying so sadly all yesterday.
Mildred, for her part, ran to thank Roger, and say how glad she
should be to be able to whistle as he could.

^' How should you ? " said Roger, — " you who never had a dog,
or caught any sort of a bird in your life, I dare say."

" No, I never could. One day, long ago, when mother was
very busy, and I was tired of playing, she gave me some salt into
my hand, and told me I might put it upon the birds' tails in the
garden, and so catch them ; but I did not get one. At last, half

The Settlers at Home. Zj

the salt was spilt, and the other half was melted in my hand ; and
then dinner was ready. I suppose that was a joke of mother's/'

" She wanted you out of the way ; and what a fool you must
have been not to find that out ! Why, the birds could not have
been sillier, if they had let you put the salt upon their tails."

" It was a long while ago," pleaded Mildred.

" Here, take him," said Roger, popping George into her arms.
*' Show him how to catch birds if you like, I can't spend my
time any longer here."

*'How he cries after you !" exclaimed Mildred.

It was the first time Roger had ever known anybody to be
sorry for his going away. The child was certainly crying after
him. He half turned back, but turned again, saying —

" Can't you tell him I will come again by-and-by ? I must be
off now."

The truth was, Roger had never forgotten the chest — the
oaken chest which looked so tempting when he saw it floating
down, and Oliver would not stop to catch it, — ^the stout chest
which he knew to be now safe and sound somewhere about
the house, unless harm had happened to it during the night.
Oliver agreed that it was of importance to bring this chest on
shore : and the boys lost no time in doing it. Mildred came out
with George to watch their proceedings, and found that Oliver
had already made one trip, and brought over some articles of use
and value. He came up to his sister, with something which he
held carefully covered up in both hands. He said gravely —

" Here, dear, put this in some safe place, — ^where no one will
know of it but you and me."

"A watch 1 — mother's watch !"

"I found it, with several things in her cupboard, thrown down
by the wall breaking."

" It does not seem to be hurt," obser\'ed Mildred. *' And how
often you have wished for a watch !"

" I think I shall never wish for anything again," said Oliver,
Mildred saw his face as he turned away, and began to consider
where she could put the watch, so that it might be safe, and that
Roger might not see it, nor Oliver be reminded of it.

Aihvin and Roger were meantime disputing about which should
have the raft first, — Roger wanting to secure the chest, and Ailwin
insisting that it was high time the cow was milked. Oliver said
he was master here in his father's absence, and he would have no
quarrels. AH three should go on the raft. Roger should be
landed at the staircase, where he could be collecting what he
wanted to bring over, while Ohver proceeded to set Ailwin ashore
beside the cow. By working to the number of three, in harmony.

88 The Settlers at Home,

far more would be gained than by using up strength in fighting
and disputing. He did not care how many times he crossed the
water this day, if those whom he rowed would but keep the peace.
He would willingly be their servant in rowing, though he chose to
be their master in deciding,

Ailwin stared at Oliver. It had struck her, and Mildred too,
that Oliver seemed to have grown many years older since the
flood came. He was no taller, and no stronger; — indeed he
seemed to-day to be growing weaker with fatigue ; but he was not
the timid boy he had always appeared before. He spoke like a
man ; and there was the spirit of a man in his eyes. It was not a
singular instance. There have been other cases in which a timid
boy has been made a man of, on a sudden, by having to protect,
from danger or in sorrow, some weaker than himself. Roger felt
something of the truth ; and this had as much to do with making
him quiet and tractable to-day as his interest about George, or
his liking to live in a tent with companions, rather than in the
open air and alone.

Ailwin was but a short time gone. She came up the bank to
Mildred, swinging her empty milk-pail, and sobbing, as if from
the bottom of her heart. Mildred did not think she had ever
seen Ailwin cry so before ; and she could imagine nothing now

but that Oliver was lost. She turned so giddy in a moment that
she could not see Ailwin, and so sick that she could not speak
to her.

*' So you have heard, Mildred, — you have heard, I see by your
being so white. Oliver says she has been dead ever so many
hours. I say, if we had gone the first thing, instead of staring
and poking about yon tumble-down house, we might have saved
her. I shall never milk her again, — not a drop ! — nor any other
either, so far as I see ; for there is no saying that we shall ever
get away. Here I have not a drop of milk to give you, my dear,
though you are as white as the wall."

" Never mind," gasped Mildred, " if it is only the cow. I
thought it had been Oliver."

" Oliver ! Bless your heart ! there he is as busy about the
house and things, as if nothing had happened ; and just as pro-
voking as you for caring nothing about the poor cow. There she
lies, poor soul ! dead and cold, half in the water, and half out.
She was worth you two put together, for some things, — I can tell
you that."

" Indeed I am very sorry," said Mildred ; and as she saw
George pulling about the empty can, she melted into tears, which
would come faster and faster till Oliver again stood by her side.
She tried to tell him what she had been afraid of, and how she

The Settlers at Home. 89

thought she should not have cried but for that ; — or, at least, not
so much ; but she really could not explain what she felt, her sobs
came so thick.

" I do not know exactly what you mean, dear," said Oliver ;
" but I understand that you must be crying about the cow, I am
very sorry, — very. I had rather have lost anything we have left
than the cow, now George is so ill." — Here he bit his lip, and
looked away from George, lest he should cry like his sister. He
went on, however, talking rather quickly at first, but becoming
more composed as he proceeded. He said, *' I have been think-
ing that it will never do for us who may be near losing everything
we have, and our lives, after all, to grieve over each separate
loss as it happens. When you said your prayers the first night of
the flood ..."

"How long ago that does seem 1" exclaimed Mildred.

"It does, indeed !" replied Oliver, glad to hear her say some-
thing distinctly. "When we said our prayers that night, and
whenever we have said them since, we begged that we might be
able to bear dying in this flood, — to bear whatever it pleased God
to do. Now, our right way is to make up our minds at once to
everything, and just in the way it pleases God.- Let us try to

bear it cheerfully, whether we lose the cow or anything else first ;
or whether we all die together. That is the way, Mildred I —
And if you and I should not die together, that must be the way
too."

" I hope we shall though."

" I think it is very likely ; and that before long. And then
how useless it will have been to be unhappy about anything we
can lose here ! People who may be so near to death need not
be anxious about this and that, like those who seem to have long
to live. So come, dear, and see this chest ; and help us to settle
what should be done with it."

There was nothing about the outside of the chest to show
whose it might be. Everybody agreed that it ought to be opened
immediately, lest all that it contained should be spoiled by the
wet. Eut how to open it was the question ; for it had a very

stout lock, and strong hinges. After many attempts, it was found
that nothing short of proper tools would answer the purpose : and
Oliver went to see if his could be reached. Through piles of
rubbish, and a puddle of slimy water, he got to the spot where he
had left them, — hiddeti behind straw, that the Redfums might
not discover and spoil them. The straw was washed away, and
his beautiful lump of alabaster reduced to slime; but his tools
were there, — in no very bright condition, but safe. He hastened
away from the spot \ for thoughts crowded upon his mind of the

90 The Settlers at Home.

day when he had last used these tools, and the way of life in
which he and Mildred had been so happy, and which seemed now
to be over for ever. He thought of the beautiful stone carvings
over the doorway, and of what Pastor Dendel had said to him
about them. They had fallen ; and who knew what had become
of kind Pastor Dendel ? The garden, with all its fresh green and
gay blossoms, was now a muddy stream ; rank smells and thick
mists now came up from what had been meadows and corn-fields;
and his father, whose manly voice had been daily heard singing
from the mill, where was he ? It would not do to stay thinking
of these things ; so Oliver hastened back with his tools, and with
the heavy kitchen hammer, which he also found.

None of these would open the chest. The party managed it at
last by heating a large nail, which they drew out from a shattered
door-post, and burning holes in the wood of the chest, close by
the nails which fastened the hinges, so as to loosen them, and
make them drop out. The lid being raised, a great variety of
articles was found within, so nicely packed that the wet had
penetrated but a very Httle way. Mildred had looked on thought-
fully ; and she saw that Oliver paused when the contents lay open
to view. She looked in her brother's face, and said —

" I wonder who this chest belonged to ?'*

*' I was just thinking so," observed Oliver.

*^ Never mind that," said Ailwin. " We may know, some day
or other, or we may not. Meantime, it is ours. Come, make
haste, and see what there is to wrap up poor baby in, on cold
nights."

** We will look for something of that sort, — I am siure we might
use such a thing as that," said Oliver : " but . . . ."

" But," said Mildred, " I don't think these other things are
ours, any more than they ever were. Nobody ever gave them to
us. They have belonged to somebody else ; — to somebody that
may be wondering at this moment where they are."

"Nonsense, Mildred!" exclaimed Ailwin. "Who gave you
the harness that braces the raft, or the meal you have been living
on these two days, I wonder : and how do you know but some-
body is hungry, and longing for it, at this minute ?"

" I wish they had it, then," repKed Mildred. " But, Oliver,
were we wrong to use the meal ? I never thought of that"

" Nor I : but I think we were right enough there. The meal
would all have been spoiled presently ; and meal (and the harness
too) is a sort of thing that we can pay for, or make up for in
some way, if ever we can meet with the people who lost that
chest."

" And George, and all of us, might have starved without it

)»

The Settlers at Home. 91

" Yes : we must take what we want to eat, when it comes m
our way, and there is nobody to ask leave of : and, if ever we get
out of this place, we can inquire who lost a meal-chest or set of
harness, and offer to pay for what we took. But I do think it is
different with these things."

"So do I," said Mildred. "Those table-cloths, and that em-
broidered cap, — somebody has taken pains to make them, and
might not like to sell them. And look ! Look at Roger ! He
has pulled out a great heavy bag oi money."

"Now, Roger, put that bag where you found it," said Oliver.
" It is none of yoursJ"

" How do I know that I shall find it again, the next time I
look?" repHed Roger, walking off with the bag.

Mildred was afraid of Oliver's following him, and of another
quarrel happening. She put her arm within her brother's, and he
could easily guess why.

"Don't be afraid, dear," he said. " If Roger chooses to do a
dishonest thing, it is his own affair. We have warned him ; and
that is all we have to do with it. We must be honest ourselves, —
that is all."

" Then I think we had better not look any further into the
chest," said Mildred ; " only just to find something warm to wrap
Geordie in. The clothes look so nice — we might fancy we wanted
things that we can very well do without."

" I am not much afraid of that," replied her brother : " and it
would be a pity the things should spoil with the damp. They
would be dry in an hour in this warm sun ; and we could pack
them away again before night."

" Roger will never let you do that," declared Ailwin. " Not a
rag will he leave to anybody that you don't stow away while he is
out of sight Never did I see such perverse children as you, and
so thankless for God's gifts. I should be ashamed to be no more
grateful than you for what He puts into your very hands."

Mildred looked at her brother now with a different face. She
was perplexed and alarmed ; but she saw that Oliver was not.

" 'R.ogtx cannot carry off anything," he replied. " He may
bury and hide what he pleases ; but they will all be somewhere
about the Red-hill ; and we can tell anybody who comes to fetch
us off whatever we know about the goods.^'

" Nobody will ever come and fetch us off," said Ailwin,
beginning to cry. " The people at a distance don't care a straw
what becomes of us ; and you children here at hand are so
perverse and troublesome, I don't know how to bear my life
between you."

"If nobody comes to save us," said Oliver, calmly, " I do not

92 The Settlers at Home,

see what good this money and these fine clothes will do to Roger
and you."

" Roger and me I Pray what do you mean by that ?"

" I mean that you and he are for taking these things that do
not belong to us 3 and Mildred and I are against it. Only tell
me this one thing, Ailwin. Do you behave that your cloak and
stockings were sent in Nan Redfum's way, that she might take
them ? and do you think it would have been perverse in her not
to run away with them ? "

" Now, Oliver, what nonsense you talk ! As if I wanted a rag
of these things for my own wear ! As if I would touch a penny
that was not honestly got !*'

"So I always thought before ; and so I shall think now, if you
will help Mildred to dry whatever is damp, and then pack all
away safely — all but such things as may do poor Geordie good."

Roger was not long in finding a hole in a tree where he could
hide his bag of money. He cut a small cross in the bark by
which he might know the tree again, and hastened back, to see
what else he could secure. He found plenty of pretty things
hanging on the bushes, and did not wait for their being quite dry
to dress himself as he had never been dressed before. With the

embroidered cap above mentioned on his head, a scarlet waist-
coat, worked with silver thread, hanging loose about his body,
and a light blue coat, whose skirts reached his heels, he looked so
little like the dirty ragged Roger, that Geordie shrank back from
him, at first sight, and did not smile till he heard the soft whistle
again. After that, he seemed more pleased with the finery than
all the rest of the party together. Ailwin glanced scornfully upon
it, as if she had disapproved from the beginning its being touched;
and Oliver and Mildred looked grave.

So very much pleased was Geordie with the gay waistcoat, that
Roger took him into his arms, that he might be able to stroke it,
and play with the silver flowers. It was little fatigue, now, except
to the spirits, to nurse poor George. He was shrunk to skin and
bone, and so light as to startle those who had been accustomed
to lift him. It was grievous, however, to look at the ghastly
stretched features, the flabby tremulous little arms, and the suffer-
ing expression of countenance. To hear his feeble cry was worse
still. Oliver was really glad to take Mildred away from seeing
and hearing him, as long as the child would be quiet with Roger :
so he asked her to filter more water through the gravel. He
begged her to get ready a great deal — enough for them all to
drink, and to bathe George in ; for the water about them was
becoming of a worse quality every day. It was unsafe even to
live near \ and much more to drink. So he scraped up a quantity

The Settlers at Home. 93

of clean dry gravel from the ledges of the precipice where the
first flood had thrown it, and helped Mildred to press this gravel
down in the worn old basket. This basket they set across the
tub, which they first thoroughly cleaned. Mildred poured water
upon the gravel by degrees ; and it was astonishing how much
purer and better it came out of the tub than it went into the
basket. When the tub was full, Ailwin heated some of the water
presently over her large fire, and made a warm bath for the child.

Roger was unwilling to give him up when the bath was ready,
so new and so pleasant did he find it to be liked and loved by
anybody — to have power over any one, so much more easy and
delightful to exercise than that of force. But, not only was the
bath ready, and must not be left to cool, but Oliver beckoned him
away on some very particular business.

This busmess was indeed pressing. All the party had com-
plained that the bad smells about the Red-hill became really
oppressive. They did not know how great was the danger of
their all falling ill of fever, in consequence ; but every one of
them felt languid and uncomfortable. Oliver made the circuit
of the hill, to discover whether there was any cause for this evil
that could be removed. He was surprised to find the number of
dead animals that were lying about in holes and comers, as well
as the heap of Roger's game, now actually putrefying in the sun.
There was also a dead horse thrown up, on the side where the
quarry was ; and about this horse were such swarms of flies as
Oliver had never seen.. It was to consult about pushing back this
horse into the stream, and clearing away all other dead things that
they could find, that Oliver now called Roger,

Roger was struck with what he observed. He saw no difficulty
in clearing away the game he ought never to have left lying in a
heap in the sun. He believed, too, that with stout poles he and
Oliver could shove the horse into the water ; and, with a line tied
to its head, tow it out of the still water into the current which yet
ran from the quarry. But what troubled him more was, that there
was evidently a mortality among the animals on the hill. They
were dying in all directions ; some for want of proper food, and
from being put out of their usual habits : others from being preyed
upon by their stronger neighbours. Nothing seemed to thrive but
the ravenous birds which came in clusters, winging their way over
the waters, and making a great rustling of their pinions as they
descended to perch upon some dead animal, pulling it to pieces
before the very eyes of the boys, as they stood consulting what to
do. It was a horrid sight : and it brought the horrid thought that
soon probably there would be no game left fi^r food fi^r the party ;
and that what there was meantime might be unwholesome. Oliver

94 2"-^^ Settlers at Home.

had never imagined that the old boy, Roger Redfum, could look
so alanned as he did at this moment

" Never mind, now, Roger," said he, " what is likely to become
of you and me. Wait, and find that out by-and-by. What I am
afiraid of is seeing Mildred look at all as George does now.
Come, let us set to work ! Don't stand looking up in the sky,
in that way. Help me — do. Cannot Spy help? Call him; will
you ? "

" We can't get away I " exclaimed Roger, as if now, for the first
time, awakened to his situation. " Those vile birds — they can go
where they like — nasty creatures — and we cannot stir from where
we are ! "

" I 'ftish we had our singing birds back again, instead of these
creatures," said Oliver. " Our shy, pretty, innocent little birds,
that used to be so pleased to pick up twigs and straws to build
their nests with, and be satisfied with the worms and slugs and
flies that they cleared away from the garden. I wish we had
them, instead of these ugly, saucy, dirty birds. But our birds are
happier somewhere else, I dare say ; in some dry, pleasant place
among those hills, all sweet with flowers, and cool with clear run-
ning water."

" They can get there, and we can't. We can't get out of this

hot steaming place : and those hills look further off every day. I
wish my uncle had been dead before he brought us down off the
moors last time. I wish he had, I know. If I was on the moor
now, after the plovers . . . ."

" Come, come ; forget all that now, and set to work," inter-
mpted Oliver, " If you wont call Spy to help, I will see whether
he will mind me."

Spy came, with some hesitation, in answer to a whistle which
was like his master's, but not exactly the same. His master soon
set him to work, and began to work himself, in a sort of despera-
tion. It was astonishing what a clearance was made in a short
time. But it did not do all the good that was expected. There
was so much vegetable decay in the region round, that the floating
dead animals off to a distance caused only a partial relief.

While the boys were hard at work at their disagreeable task,
Mildred was enjoying seeing George in his warm bath. Ailwin
held him there, while Mildred continued her useful business of
filtering water, talking to the child all the while. The poor little
fellow soon left off crying, and moved his weak limbs about in
the tepid water, trying to splash Ailwin, as he had been wont to
splash his mother in play, every morning when she washed and
dressed him.

"I am sure it does him a great deal of good," exclaimed

The Settlers at Home. 95

Mildred. " I will filter quantities of water ; and he shall have a
bath as often as ever it is good for him. Suppose it should make
him well ! "

Ailwin shook her head. She saw how impossible it would be
even to keep a healthy child well in the absence of proper food,
in an unwholesome atmosphere, and without sufficient shelter
from the changes of weather which might come at any hour, and
must come soon. How unlikely it was that a sick baby should
recover under such circumstances, she was well aware. Yet she
little thought how near the end was.

After his bath, Geordie lay, nicely covered up, on a mattress
under the tent. One or other of his nurses visited him every few
minutes ; and both were satisfied that he was comfortably asleep.
The boys came for some dinner, at last ; and while Oliver went
to wash his hands in clean water, Roger stooped over the child to
kiss him. Before doing so, however, he started back, and asked
Ailwin why the baby's eyes looked so strangely. They were half
closed, and seemed like neither sleep nor waking. Ailwin sat
down on the mattress, and took him into her arms, while Mildred
ran to call Oliver. The poor child stretched himself stiff across
Ailwin's knees, and then breathed no more.

When Oliver and Mildred came running back, Ailwin was put-
ting her cheek near the child's mouth, to feel if there was indeed
no breath. She shook her head, and her eyes ran over with tears.
Oliver kneeled down, and put his hand to the heart — it did not
beat. He lifted the wasted arm — it fell, as if it had never had
life in it. There lay the little body, still unmoved, with the face
composed, — the eyes dim and half closed, the ear hearing nothing,
the tongue silent, while all were calling on little George to say
something he had been fond of saying, to hearken to something
he had loved to hear, and — all in vain.

"Whisde to him, Roger!" exclaimed Mildred, through her
trembling. " Try if he cannot hear that Whistle to him softly."

Roger tried ; but no notice was taken of the forced, irregular
whistle which was the best he could give at the moment.

" Listen, dear ! Hark, George ! Only hear ! " exclaimed
Mildred and Ailwin.

" O hush ! all of you ! " exclaimed Oliver. " Be quiet, Mildred
dear 1 Our little brother is dead."

Roger threw himself on the grass, and hid his face on his arms.

He moaned and rocked himself about, so that, even in the first

moments of their grief, the brother and sister looked at each other

with awe.

" Come away with me, dear," whispered Oliver to his sister.

"Ailwin, give George to me. Let me have him in my arms."

96 The Settlers at Home.

" Bless you, my dears ; it is not George any longer. It is a
poor little dead body. You must not call it George."

" Give him to me," said Oliver. He took the body from Ail-
win's arms, carrying it as gently as if anything could have hurt it
now ; and he and Mildred walked away towards the spot where
the bee-shed had stood. Ailwin gazed after them, dashing away
the tears with the back of her hand, when they gathered so that
she could not see.

Oliver and Mildred walked on till they could descend the bank
a little, and sit, just above the waters, where they knew they were
out of sight of everybody. This bank presented a strange appear-
ance, such as the children had been wondering at for some days,
till Ailwin remembered that she had often heard say that there
was once a thick forest growing where the Levels were now spread,
and that the old trees were, every one, somehow underground. It
now appeared that this was true. As the earth was washed away
in the channel, and cut down along the bank, large trunks of trees
were seen lying along, black as coal. Some others started out of
the bank ; and the roots of a few spread like network, holding the
soil together, and keeping the bank firm in that part Upon one
of the trunks, that jutted out, Oliver took his seat ; and Mildred
placed herself beside him.

**Let him lie on my knee now," said she.

" Presently," said Oliver. " How easy and quiet he looks I "

"And how quietly he died ! " observed Mildred. " I did not
think it had been such an easy thing to die, — or half so easy for
us to bear to see."

" The hard part is to come, dear. We are glad now to see him
out of his pain — so comfortable as he looks at this moment The
hard part will be not to hear his little voice any more — ^never
.... But we must not think of that now. I hope, Mildred, that
you are not sorry that George is dead. I am not, when I think
that he may be with father and mother already."

"Already?"

"Yes — if they are dead. Perhaps they have been pit3dng poor
baby all the time he has been ill, crying and moaning so sadly ;
and now he may be with them, quite happy, and full of joy to
meet them again."

" Then they may be seeing us now."

" Yes ; they will not forget us, even the first moment that
George's little spirit is with them. Do not let them see us sad,
Mildred. Let them see that we are glad that they should have
George, when we could do nothing for him,"

" But we shall miss him so when . . • . Oliver I he must be
buried ! "

The Settlers at Home. ■ 97

" Yes. When that is done, we shall miss him sadly. We must
expect that. But we must bear it."

'• If we die here," said Mildred, " it will be easy to do without <
him for such a little while. But if we ever get away, if we grow
up to be as old as father and mother, what shall we do, all those
years, without once hearing Geordie laugh, or having him to wake
us in the morning? What long things people's lives are ! It will
seem as if ours would never be done, if we have to wait all that
time to see Geordie again."

" I wish we were dead ! " sighed Oliver.

" I am sure, so do I. And dying is so very easy 1 "

" The pastor always said there was nothing to be afraid of,"
said Oliver — " I mean, for innocent people. And Geordie was so
innocent, he was fit to go directly to God." '

" If we die here," said Mildred, ** Roger must too. What was
the matter with him just now, do you think ? Was he thinking
about that ? "

■ " He was very miserable about something. Oh, Mildred, do
look ! Did you ever see Geordie look sweeter ? Yes, you may
have him now."

And Oliver quietly laid the child in Mildred's arms.

" Yet," said he, sighing, *' we must bury him.

''0\ when?" asked Mildred.

" Better do it while his face looks as it does now. To-morrow
is Sunday. We will do no work to-morrow, and bury Geordie."

"Where? How?"

a

"We will choose the prettiest place we can find, and the
quietest."

" I wish the pastor was here," said Mildred. "I never saw a
funeral, except passing one. in the road sometimes."

" We need not be afraid of doing wrong about the funeral, dean
We must make some kind of little coffin ; and Roger will help
me to dig a grave, and if we have no pastor to say prayers, you
and I know that in our hearts we shall be thanking God for
taking our little brother to be safe and happy with him."

" And then I may plant some flowers upon his grave, may not
I ? And that will bring the bees humming over it. How fond
he was of going near the hives, to hear the bees hum \ Where
shall his grave be ? "

** Under one of the trees, one of the shadiest,"

"Oh, dear — here comes Ailwin ! I wish she would let us
alone."

Ailwin was crying too much to speak. She took the body from
Mildred's arms with a gentle force, kissing the little girl as she did so.
She covered up the baby's face with her apron as she walked away.

gS The Settlers at Home,

The children went among the trees to fix on a spot for the
grave. They found more than one that they Hked \ but suddenly
remembered that the ground was hard, and that they had no
spade, nor any tool with which they could make a deep hole.

Oliver was greatly disturbed at this, — more than he chose to
show when he saw how troubled his sister also was. After
thinking for some time to no purpose, — feeling that he could not
bear to commit the body to the foul flood, and remembering with
horror how many animals were scratching up the earth all over
the Red-hill, where the ground was not too hard, and how many
odious birds of prey were now hovering in the air, at all hours, —
after thinking over these things with a heavy heart, he begged
Mildred to go home to Ailwin, and to ask Roger to come to him
in the wood, to consult what must be done.

Mildred readily went : but she hardly liked to speak to Roger
when she saw him. He was watching, with a sulky air, what
Ailwin was doing, as she bent over the mattress. His eyes were
red with crying ; but he did not seem the more gentle for that.
When Mildred had given her message, he moved as if he thought
it a great trouble to go ; but Mildred then suspected what was
indeed the truth, — that he was- unhappy at the child's death, and
was ashamed of appearing so, and put on a gruff manner to hide
it. Seeing this, the little girl ran after him, as he sauntered away,
put her hand in his, and said, —

" Do help Oliver all you can. I know how he would have
tried to help you if George had been your little brother."

*' 'Tis all the same as if he had been," muttered Roger. " Tm
sure I am just as sorry."

"Are you, indeed?" said Mildred, her eyes now filling with
tears.

Roger could not bear to see that ; and he hastened away.
Mildred found a great change when she looked on the
baby's face again. The eyes were quite closed, and Ailwin had
tied a bandage round his head, — under the chin, and among the
thick hair which used to curl so prettily, but which had hung
straight and damp since he had been ill. He was now strangely
dressed, and laid out straight and stiff. He did not look like
Geordie ; and now Mildred began to know the dreary feelings
that death brings into families. She longed for Oliver to come
home ; and would have gone to see what he was about, but that
she did not like to leave the tent and the body while Ailwin was
busy elsewhere, which was now the case.

When, at length, the boys returned, they reported that, for
many reasons, there could not be a grave under the trees, as they
would have liked. They had hopes of making one which would save

The Settlers at Home. 99

the body from the flood, and would serve at least till the day (if that
day ever came) when it might be removed to some churchyard.
They had no tools to dig a deep hole with ; and if there was a
hole, it must be deep : but they found they could excavate a space
in the bank, under the trunk of one of the large buried forest-trees.
They could line this hole with hewn stones brought from the shat-
tered wall of the house, and could close it in also with a stone,
thus making the space at once a coffin and a grave, as secure from
beast or bird of prey as any vault under any church-wall. OHver
had found among the ruins one of the beautiful carved stones which
he had always admired as it surmounted the doorway of their
home. AVith this he meant to close in the little vault. At some
future time, if no one should wish to disturb the remains, ivy
might be led over the face of the bank, and about this sculptured
stone ; and then, he thought, even those who most loved little
George could not wish him a better grave.

CHAPTER X.

GRAVES IN THE LEVELS,

Oliver so much wished that the next day (Sunday, and the
day of his little brother's funeral) should be one of rest and decent
quiet, that he worked extremely hard, as long as the light lasted,
and was glad of all the help the rest of the party could give.

To make an excavation large enough for the body was no diffi-
cult task ; — the earth being soft, and easily removed from the
trunks, roots, and branches of buried trees, which seemed to run
all through the interior of the bank. But the five stones with
which the grave was to be lined were of considerable thickness ;
and Oliver chose to have them nicely fitted in, that no living
creature should be able to enter this place sacred to the dead.

How astonished were they all to find that this was already a
place of the dead ! While Ailwin was holding one of the stones
against one end of the excavation, and Oliver was striking and
fixing it with the great hammer, Roger was emptying out soil from
the other end. He exclaimed that he had come upon some large
thing made of leather.

" I dare say you have," said Ailwin. " There are all manner
of things found by those who dig in the Levels — except useful
things, I mean. No one ever knew anything useful come out
of these odd places."

" You are wrong there," said Roger. " I have got useful

H 2

100 The Settlers at Home.

things myself from under the carr, that brought me more money
than any fish and fowl I ever took out of the ponds on it. Uncle
and I found some old red earthenware things . , . ."

" Old red earthenware ! " exclaimed Ailwin. " As if old
earthenware was better than fish and fowl, when there is so much
new to be had now-a-days ! My uncle is a sailor, always going
between this and Holland ; and he says the quantity of ware they
bring over in a year will hold victuals for all Lincolnshire. And
Dutch ware does not cost above half what it did in my grand-
father's time : so don't you be telling your wonderful tales, Roger.
We sha'n't beheve them."

"Well, then don't. But I say again, uncle Stephen and I took
gold for the old red ware we got out of a deep hole in the carr."

** Very likely, indeed. I wonder who has gold to throw away
in that manner. However, I don't say but there may be such.
'Fools and their money are soon parted,* some folks say."

" Who gave you the gold ?" asked Oliver.

" You may ask that," said Roger ; " but you may not believe
me when I tell you. You know the Earl of Arundel comes
sometimes into these parts. Well, — it was he."

"When? AVhy?"

" He often comes down to see the Trent, having the care of

the forests upon it : and one time he stopped near here, on his
way into Scotland, about some business. They say he has a
castle full of wonderllil things somwehere."

"What sort of things?" asked Ailwin. "Horn spoons and
pewter drinking-mugs to his old red earthenware?"

"Perhaps," replied Roger, '*But I heard nothing of them.
What I heard of was old bricks, and stone figures, and all manner
of stone jars. Well, a gentleman belonging to the Earl of Arundel
chanced to come across us, just after we had found a pitcher or
two down in the moss ; and he made us go with him to the
Earl . . . ."

" You don't mean that you ever saw a lord to speak to ! " ex-
claimed Ailwin, turning sharp round upon Roger.

" I tell you I did, and uncle too."

Ailwin muttered that she did not believe a word of it ; but her
altered manner towards Roger at the moment, and ever after,
showed that she did.

" He asked us all manner of questions about the Levels," con-
tinued Roger : — " I mean about the things that lie in the moss.
He did not seem to care about the settlers and the crops, other-
wise than in the way of business. All that he did about the
earthenware was plainly for his pleasure. He bought all we
could find on that spot ; and he said if we found any niore curiosi-

The Settlers at Home. loi

ties at any time, we were .... But I can't stand talking any-

more."

And Roger glanced with suspicious eyes from the piece of
leather (as he called it) that he had met with in the bank to
Oliver. He wanted to have the sole benefit of this new dis-
covery.

"And what were you to do, if you found anything more?'*
asked Ailwin. " One might easily bury some of the ware my
uncle brings, and keep it in the moss till it is well wetted ; and
then some earl might give one gold for it Come, Roger, tell me
what you were to do with your findings. You owe it lo me to
tell me ; considering that your people have got away my cloak
and warm stockings."

" Look for them in the moss, — you had better," said Roger.
" You will find them there or nowhere."

Not a word more would he say of his own concerns.

Oliver did not want to hear more. On being told of the Earl
of Arundel's statues and vases, he had, for a moment, longed to
see them, and wondered whether there were any alabaster cups in
the collection ; but his thoughts were presently with George again.
He remembered that Mildred had been left long enough alone
with the body ; and he dismissed Ailwin, saying that he himself
should soon have done, it was now growing so dark.

As he worked on silently and thoughtfully, Roger supposed he
was observing nothing; and therefore ventured, turning his back
on Oliver, to investigate a little more closely the leathern curiosity
he had met with. He disengaged the earth more and more, drew
something out, and started at what he saw.

*' You ^az^^ found a curiosity," observed Oliver, quietly. *^ That
is a mummy."

"No — 'tis a man," exclaimed Roger, in some agitation. "At
least it is something like a man. Is not this like an arm, with a
hand at the end of it ? — a little dried, shrunk, ugly arm. 'Tis not
stiff, neither. Look ! It can't be Uncle Stephen, sure — or Nan ! '*

" No, no : it is a mummy — a human body which has been
buried for hundreds and thousands of years."

Roger had never heard of a mummy ; and there was no great
wonder in that, when even Oliver did not rightly know the mean-
ing of the word. All animal bodies (and not only human bodies)
which remain dry, by any means, instead of putrefying, are called
mummies.

"What do you mean by hundreds and thousands of years?"
said Roger. " Look here, how the arm bends, and the wrist \
I believe I could make its fingers close on mine," he continued,
stepping back — evidently afraid of the remains which lay before

102 The Settlers at Home,

him. " If I was sure now, that it was not Stephen or Nan. . . .
Eut the peat water does wonders, they say, with whatever Hes in it."

'* So it does. It preserves bodies, as I told you. I will show
you in a minute that it is nobody you have ever known."

And Oliver took from Roger's hand the slip of wood with
which he had been working, and began to clear out more soil
about the figure.

" Don't, don't now !" exclaimed Roger. " Don't uncover the
face ! If you do, I will go away."

" Go, then," replied Oliver. It appeared as if the bold boy
and the timid one had changed characters. The reason was that
Roger had some very disagreeable thoughts connected with
Stephen and Nan Redfurn, He never forgot, when their images
were before him, that they had died in the midst of angry and
contemptuous feelings between them and him. Oliver, on the
other hand, was religious. Though, in easy times, more afraid
than he ought to have been of dishonest and violent persons, he
had yet enough trust in God to support his spirits and his hope in
trial, as we have seen : and about death and the grave, and the
other world, where he believed the dead went to meet their
Maker and Father, he had no fear at all. Nothing that Roger

now said, therefore, made him desist, till he had uncovered half

the dried body.

*' Look here!" said he — for Roger had not gone away as he
had threatened — " come closer and look, or you will see nothing
in the dusk. Did either Stephen or Nan wear their hair this
way ? And is this dress anything hke Ailwin's cloak ? Look at
the long black hair hanging all round the little fiat brown face.
And the dress : it is the skin of some beast, with the hair left
on — a rough-edged skin, fastened with a bit of something like
coal on the left shoulder. I dare say it was once a wooden skewer.
I wonder how long ago this body was alive. I wonder what sort
of a country this was to live in, at that day.''

Roger's fear having now departed, his more habitual feelings
again prevailed.

" I say," said he, returning to the spot, and wrenching the tool
from Oliver's hand ; " I say — don't you meddle any more. The
curiosity is mine, you know. I found it, and it's mine."

"What will you do with it?" asked OUver, who saw that, even
now, Roger rather shrank from touching the limbs, and turned
away from the open eyes of the body.

" It will make a show. If I don't happen to see the earl, so as
to get gold for it, I'll make people give me a penny a piece to see
it ; and that will be as good as gold presently."

" I wish you would bury it," earnestly exclaimed Oliver, as the

3»

T/ce Settlers at Home. 103

thought occurred to him that the time might come, though perhaps
hundreds of years hence, when dear litde George's body might be
found in like manner. He could not endure the idea of that body
being ever made a show of.

Of course, Roger would not hear of giving up his treasure ;
and Oliver was walking away, when Roger called after him —

Don't go yet, OHver. Wait a minute, and I will come with
you

Oliver proceeded, however, thinking that Roger would have to
acquire some courage yet before he could carry about his mummy
for a show.

Oliver was only going for Mildred — to let her see, before it was
quite dark, what had been done, and what found. When they
returned, Roger was standing at some distance from the bank,
apparently watching his mummy as it lay in the cleft that he had
cleared. He started when he heard Mildred's gentle voice ex-
claiming at its being so small and so dark-coloured. She next
wondered how old it was.

After the boys had examined the ground again, and put
together all they had heard about the ancient condition of the
Levels, they agreed that this person must have been buried, or
have died alone in the woods, before the district became a marsh.
Pastor Dendel had told Oliver about the thick forest that covered
these lands when the Romans invaded Britain ; and how the in-
habitants fled to the woods, and so hid themselves there that the
Roman soldiers had to cut down the woods to get at them j and
how the trees, falling across the courses oi the streams, dammed
them up, so that the surrounding soil was turned into a swamp ;
and how mosses and water-plants grew over the fallen trees, and
became matted together, so that more vegetation grew on the top
of that, till the ancient forest was, at length, quite buried in the
carr. Oliver now reminded his sister of all this : and they looked
with a kind of veneration on the form which they supposed was
probably that of an ancient Briton, who, flying from the invaders,
into the recesses of the forest, had perished there alone. There
was no appearance of his having been buried. No earthen vessels,
or other remains, such as were usually found in the graves of the
ancients, appeared to be contained in the bank. If he had died
lying along the ground, his body would have decayed like other
bodies, or been devoured by wild beasts. Perhaps he was drowned
in one of the ponds or streams of the forest, and the body, being
immediately washed over with sand or mud, was thus preserved.

*'What is the use of guessing and guessing?'' exclaimed Roger.
" If people should dig up George's bones, out of this bank, a
thousand years hence, and find them lying in a sort of oven, as.

104 ^^^^ Settlers at Home.

they would call it, with a fine car\'ed stone for one of the six sides,
do you think they could ever guess how all these things came to
be here?"

" This way of burying is an accident, such as no one would
think of guessing," said Oliver, sighing, '^ And this dried body
may be here, to be sure, by some other accident that we know
nothing about. I really wish, Roger, you would cover up the
corpse again ; at least, till we know whether we shall all die
together here.^'

This was what Roger could never bear to hear of. He always
ran away from it : and so he did now. Dark as it was growing,
he passed over to the house, and mounted the staircase (which
stood as firm as ever, and looked something like a self-supported
ladder). While he was vainly looking abroad for boats, which the
shadows of the evening would have prevented his seeing if they
had been there by hundreds, the brother and sister speculated on
one thing more, in connection with the spectacle which had
powerfully excited their imaginations, Mildred whispered to
Oliver —

" If this old man and George lie together here, I wonder whether
their spirits will know it, and come together in heaven."

They talked for some time about the difference there must be

between the thoughts of an ancient Briton, skin-clothed, a hunter
of the wolf, and living on the acorns and wild animals of the
forest, and the mind of a little child, reared in the Levels, and
nourished and amused between the farm-yard and the garden.
Yet they agreed that there must have been some things in which
two so different thought and felt alike. The sky was over the
heads of both, and the air around them, and the grass spread
under their feet : — both, too, had, no doubt, had relations, by
whom they had been beloved : and there is no saying how many
things may become known alike to all, on entering upon the life
after death. Oliver and Mildred resolved that if ever they should
see Pastor Dendel again, they would ask him what he thought of
all this. They agreed that they would offer to help Roger to seek
for other curiosities, to make a show of; and would givt him, for
his own, all they could find, if he would but consent to bury this
body again, decently, and beside little George.

The supper was eatable to-night ; and so was the breakfast on
the Sunday morning ; and yet Roger scarcely touched anything.
Oliver heard him tossing and muttering during the night, and was
sure that he was ill. He was ill. He would not allow that he
was so, however ; and dressed himself again in the fine clothes he
had taken from the chest. It was plain, from his shaking hand
and his heavy eye, that he was too weak, and his head aching too

The Settlers at Home. 1 05

much for him to be able to do any work ; therefore Aihvin helped
Oliver to finish the grave.

Roger inquired how the work proceeded : and it appeared that
he meant to attend the funeral, when he found that it was to be
in the afternoon. His companions did not believe him able : and
he himself doubted it in his heart, resolved as he was to refuse to
believe himself very ill, as long as he could keep off the thought.
He found an excuse, however, for lying on the grass while the
others were engaged at the grave. Oliver hinted to him, very
gently, that Mildred and he had rather see him dressed in the
shabbiest clothes of his own, than following their little brother to
his grave in fine things which they could not but consider stolen.
Roger was, in reality, only ashamed; but he pretended to be
angry ; and made use of the pretence to stay behind. Wliile he
lay, ill and miserable, remembering that little George alone had
seemed to love him, and that George was dead, he believed it
impossible that any one should mourn the child as he did in his
heart,

Oliver himself took something from the chest — carefully and
reverently ; and carefully and reverently he put it back before
night. There was a Bible, in Dutch ; and with it a Prayer-book.
He carried these, while Aihvin carried the body, wrapped in cloth,
with another piece hanging over it, like a pall. As Oliver took
Mildred's hand, and saw how pale and sorrowful she looked
(though quite patient), he felt how much need they all had of
the consolations and hopes which speak to mourners from the
book he held.

Ailwin did not understand Dutch ; so Oliver thought it kindest
and best to say in English what he read, both from the Bible and
Prayer-book. He read a short portion of what St. Paul says
about the dead and their rising again. Then all three assisted in
closing the tomb, firmly and completely ; and then they kneeled
down, and Oliver read a prayer for mourners from his book.
They did not sing ; for he was not sure that Mildred could go
through a hymn. He made a sign to her to stay when Ailwin
went home ; and they two sat down on the grass above the bank,
and read together that part of the Scripture in which Jesus desires
his followers not to let their hearts be troubled, but to believe in
God and in him.

Mildred was soon quite happy ; and Oliver was cheered to see
her so. He even began, after a time, to talk of the future. He
pointed out how the waters had sunk, leaving now, he supposd,
only about three feet of depth, besides mud and slime. This mud
would make the soil more fertile than it had ever been, if the
remainder of the flood could by any means be drawn off. He

io6 The Settlers at Home.

thought his father might return, and drain his ground, and rebuild
the house. Then the bank they sat on would overlook a more
beautiful garden than they had ever yet possessed. The whole
land had been so well warped (that is, flooded with fertilising
mud) that everything that was planted would flourish. They
might get the finest tulip roots from Holland, and have a bed of
them ; and another of choice auriculas, just below George's
tomb ; and honeysuckles might be trained round it, to attract the
bees.

Mildred liked to hear all this ; and she said so ; but she added
that she should like it better still to-morrow, perhaps. She felt so
strangely tired now, that she could not listen any more, even to
what she liked to hear.

"Are you going to be ill, do you think, dear?"
** I don't know. Don't you think Roger is ill ?"
'* Yes ; and I dare say we shall all have the fever, from the
damps and bad smells of this place."

" Well — never mind about me, Oliver. I am only very, very
tired yet."

" Come home, and lie down, and I will sit beside you," said
Oliver. *' You will be patient, I know, dear. I will try if I can

be patient, if I should see you very ill."

He led her home, and laid her down, and scarcely left her for
many hours. It was plain now that the fever had seized upon
them ; and where it would stop, who could tell .^ During the
night he and Ailwin watched by turns beside their sick com-
panions. This would not have been necessary for Mildred ; but
Roger was sometimes a little delirious ; and they were afraid of
his frightening Mildred by his starlings and strange sayings.

When Ailwin came, at dawn, to take Oliver's place, she patted
him on the shoulder, and bade him go to sleep, and be in no
hurry to rouse himself again ; for he would not be wanted for any-
thing if he should sleep till noon.

OHver was tired enough ; but there was one thing which he had
a great mind to do before he slept. He wished to look out once
again from the staircase, when the sun should have risen, to see
whether there was no moving speck on the wide waters — no
promise of help in what now threatened to be his extremity.
Ailwin thought him perverse ; but did not oppose his going when
he said he was sure he should sleep better after it. She soon,
therefore, saw his figure among the ruins of the roof, standing up
between her and the brightening sky.

The Settlers at Home. 10/

CHAPTER XL

MORE HARDSHIP.

This morning was unlike the mornings which Oliver had
watched since the flood came. There was no glowing sky
towards the east ; and he saw that there would be no broad train
of light over the waters, which should so dazzle his eyes as almost
to prevent his seeing anything else. It was now a stormy-looking
sunrise. Huge piles of clouds lay on the eastern horizon, through
which it seemed impossible that the rays of the sun should pierce.
The distant church-spire looked black amidst the grey flood : and
the houses and chapel at Sandtoft, which now stood high out of
the water, had a dark and dismal air. Oliver would have been
rather glad to believe that there would be no sunshine this day, if
he had not feared there would be storm. He had so learned,
in these few days, to associate reeking fogs and putrid smells with
hot sunshine, that a shady day would have been a relief : but it
there should come a tempest, what could be done with the sick
members oi the party 7 It was dangerous to stand under the trees
in a thunderstorm ; and the poor tent would be soaked through
with a quarter of an hour's rain. He thought it would be best to
take down the tent, and wrap up Mildred and Roger in the cloth ;
and to pile the mattresses, one upon another, at the foot of the
thickest tree they could find ; so that there might be a chance of
one bed being left dry for poor Mildred.

While arranging this in his mind, Oliver had been anxiously
looking abroad for any moving speck on the grey waters. Seeing
none, but perceiving that the clouds were slowly mounting the
sky, and moving onwards, he felt that he ought to be going to the
hill, to make such preparations as were possible before the first
raindrops should fall. Slowly and sadly he turned away to do so,
when, casting one more glance eastwards, he perceived something
moving — a dark speck, leaving the ruined roof of a dwelling
which stood about half-way between himself and the hamlet.

There could be no doubt that this speck was a boat ; and as it
came nearer, Oliver saw that it was — a large boat, but quite full.
He could distinguish no figures in it, so heavy seemed the mass
of people, or of goods, with which it was crowded. It came on
and on, however \ and Oliver's heart beat faster as it came. How
he wished now that he had kept a flag flying from the spot on
which he stood ! How he wished he now had a signal to fix on
this height ! Though the boat-people were still too far off to
distinguish figures, a signal might catch their eye. If he went to

1 08 The Settlers at Hotne.

the Red-hill for a flag, the boat might be gone away before his
return. Trembling with haste, he stripped off his shirt, and
swung it in the air. He even mounted the top stone, which, sur-
rounded by no wall, or other defence, hung over the waters
below. Oliver would have said, half an hour before, that he
could not have stood alone on this perilous point : now, he not
only stood there, but Avaved his white signal with all his strength.

Did anybody notice it ?

He once thought he saw what might have been an oar lifted in
the air ; but he was not sure. He was presently only too certain
of something else — that the boat was moving away, not in the
direction in which it had approached, but southwards. He tried,
as long as he could, to disbelieve this ; but there it went — away
— away — and Oliver had to come down from his stone, put on
his clothes again, and find how thirsty he was.

There was hope still, he felt — great hope : but he must keep it
from Mildred, who was in no condition to bear the disappoint-
ment of such a hope. He doubted whether Ailwin could control
her tongue and her countenance, while possessed of such news.
It would be hard not to be able to tell any one of what so filled
his thoughts; and he resolved to see first what state Roger
was in.

When he reached the tent, Roger was not there. Ailwin could
not tell where he was. He had staggered away, like a drunken
person, she said — he seemed so giddy; but she could not leave
Mildred to see after him, though he had spoken to a lord; if
indeed that could be true of a boy like him. Ailwin looked up
at the clouds, every moment, as she spoke ; and Mildred shivered,
as if she missed the morning sunshine. Oliver saw that he must
make ready for the storm, before he prepared for what might
follow. He and Ailwin pulled down the long piece of cloth from
its support, doubled it again and again, and put Mildred into the
middle of it. Oliver longed to lay her under a leafy tree ; but he
dared not, on account of the lightning, which was already be-
ginning to flash. 'He and Ailwin set up the deal table as a sort
of penthouse over her ; and then busied themselves, in her sight,
in piling together everything else they had, to keep as many
articles as possible from spoiling.

Oliver was just thinking that he might slip away to seek Roger,
when he saw that Mildred was sobbing, under the heap of cloth
they had laid upon her. In a moment he was by her side,
saying —

" What is the matter, dear? Are you afraid of the storm? I
never knew you afraid of thunder and lightning ; but perhaps you
may be now, because you are ill.'*

The Settlers at Home. 1 09

" No," sobbed Mildred

" I cannot help being glad of this storm," continued Oliver,
" though it is disagreeable, at the time, to people who have no
house to go to. I hope it will clear the air, and freshen it ; and
that is the very thing we want, to make you better,"

" It is not that, Oliver. I don't mind the storm at all."

" Then what makes you cry so, dear ? Is it about Geordie ? "

" Yes. Something about him that I don't think you know ;
something that I shall never bear to think of. It will make me
miserable as long as I live. Do you know, I was tired oi nursing
him, and hearing him cry; and I gave it up — the only thing I
could do for him ! I asked Ailwin to take him. And in two
days he was dead ; and I could never do anything for him any
more."

Here a burst of grief stopped her voice. Her brother said,
very solemnly, —

*' Now, Mildred, listen to me, — to the little I can say — for you
know I cannot, in this place, stay and talk with you as we should
both like, and as we might have done at home. I think you were
almost always very kind to Geordie ; and I am sure he loved you
very dearly. But I have heard mother say that the worst part of
losing dear friends is that we have to blame ourselves, more or
less, for our behaviour to them, — even to those we loved the very
most. So I will not flatter you, dear : though I don't at all
wonder at your being tired of hearing Geordie cry that day. I
will not say whether you were right or wrong ; but only put you
in mind that we may always ask for pardon. Remember, too,
that you may meet Geordie again ; and perhaps be kinder to him
than we ever are to one another here. Now I will go, and come
back again soon."

" Stop one minute," implored Mildred. " I dreamed that you
all went away from this hill, and left me alone."

As she said this, she looked at her brother, with such a painful
wistfulness, that he saw that she had had a fever-dream, and was
not yet quite clear from its remains. He laughed, as at something
ridiculous ; which Mildred seemed to like : and then he reminded
her more gravely, that they could not get away from this place if
they would. If an opportunity should occur, he assured her he
would not leave hold of her hand. Nothing should make him
step into a boat without her. Poor Mildred had fancied, bewil-
dered as she was this morning, that if Oliver knew of what she
had done about George, he would think himself justified in
leaving her to perish on the hill ; and yet she could not help
telling him. Her mind was relieved, for the present, and she let

him go.

no The Settlers at Hofne.

He found Roger where he first looked for him, — near the
mummy. The poor lad was too ill to stand ; but he lay on the
slimy bank, poking and grubbing, with a stick and with his
fingers, as deep in the soft soil as he could penetrate. Oliver saw
that he had found some more curiosities; — bunches of nuts, —
nuts which were ripening on the tree many hundreds of seasons
ago ; but which no hand had plucked till now. Oliver could
neither wonder nor admire, at this moment : nor was he vexed
(as he might have been at another time) at Roger's crawhng
hither, in- pursuit of gain, to be made more ill by every breath he
drew while stooping over the rank mud.

" Don't be afraid, Roger," said Oliver. '' I am not going to
touch your findings, or meddle with you. I want you to change
your clothes, — to put off that finery, — and to let me know where
the bag of money is that you took out of the chest.'*

Roger stared.

" I am going to pack that chest again ; and I want to see
everything in it, that it may be ready if any boat should

come"

"Boat!'' exclaimed Roger.

" Yes : a boat may come, you know ; and we must not detain
it, if such a thing should happen. If you die without restoring
that money, Roger, it will be a sin upon your soul : so tell me
Avhere it is, and have an easy mind, I advise you. That will be
a good thing, if you liwe an hundred years."

" There is a boat here now ! You are going to leave me
behind ! " cried Roger, scrambling up on his feet, and falling
again from weakness, two or three times. " I knew it,'' he con-
tinued ; " I dreamt it all last night ; and it is going to come true
to-day."

" Mildred dreamed the same thing ; and it is because you are
both ill," said Oliver. " Lean upon me — as heavily as you like — ■
and I will go home with you, as slowly as you will, if you will tell
me where the money-bag is. You will find no boat there now,
whatever there may be by-and-by : but if you will not tell me
where the money-bag is, I will shake you off now, and leave you
here. It is another person's money : and I must have it."

Roger said he would tell, if Oliver would promise him not to
leave him alone on the island. Oliver assured him that there was
no danger whatever of the deliverers of some of the party leaving
others to perish. He owned that he was bound to make his
sister his first care, and Aihvin his next. As boys, Roger and
himself must be sadsfied to be thought of last ; but he hoped
they should neither of them do an ill turn by the other. He
asked if Roger had ever received an ill turn from him.

The Settlers at Home, 1 1 1

" That is the thing," said Roger, sorrowfully : " and you have
had so many from me and mine !"

" I am sure I forgive them all, now you have once said that,"
cried Oliver. " I forgive and forget them all : and so would
father, if he heard you."

" No 1 would he ? And he said once that he and his would
scorn to be like me and mine."

" Did you hear him say that ? You used to hear every word
we said to one another, I think."

" It was Ailwin that threw that in my teeth."

" Father would not say so now : never after you had had
Geordie on your knees and made him fond of you, as you did."

'* Do you really think so ?"

" I am almost sure of it But he could not help thinking
badly of you if you keep that money."

" I am not going to keep it. Do you go and find it, if you
like, for I can't. It is in a hollow elm that stands between two
beeches, on the other side of the wood. There is a little cross
cut in the bark, on the south side — that will help you to find it.
But don't you go till you have got me to the tent."

Oliver helped him home, amidst lightning and splashing rain,
explaining as they went why the tent was down, but thinking it
best to say nothing of the boat to one so weak-spirited as Roger
was now. He then ran off, and found the money-bag. He
wished the weather would clear, that he might look out again :
but, meanwhile, he felt that he was not losing time in collecting
together all the goods that were on the hill ; for the tempest so
darkened and filled the air, that he knew he could not have seen
a furlong into the distance, if he had been on his perch at this
moment He wore his mother's watch in his pocket, feeling as if
it promised that he should meet her again, to put it back into her
hands.

" Now, Oliver," said Ailwin, "I am vexed with you that you
did not sleep while you might, before this growling, splashing
weather came on, and while there was something of a shelter
over your head. If you don't go to sleep the minute this tempest
is over, I must see what I must do to you: for you will be having
the fever else ; and then what is to become of me, among you all,
I should like to know? I wish you would creep in now between
the mattresses under the tree, and never think of the storm, but
go to sleep like a good boy. It is hardly likely that the lightning
should strike that particular tree, just while you are under it"

" But if you should chance to find me a cinder, when you
thought it time forme to be waking, Ailwin — would not that be
as bad as my having the fever ?''

1 1 2 The Settlers at Hojne,

" Oliver ! how can you talk so ? How dare you think of such
a shocking thing ?'*

" You put it into my head, Aihvin. But come — let me tell you
a thing I want you to do, if I should be away when it stops
raining. Here are Roger's old clothes, safe and dry here between
the beds. When it leaves off raining, make him pull off his wet
finery, and put on his own dry things ; and keep that finery some-
Avhere out of his way, that I may put it back into the chest, where
it ought to be lying now. Will you do this, Ailwin ?"

" Why, I'll see. If I was quite sure that he had nothing to do
with this storm, I might manage him as I could any other boy."

" Anybody may manage him to-day, with a little kindness. He
is ill and weak-spirited ; and you can touch his heart Avith a word.
If you only remember how George cried after him, you will be
gentle with him, I know."

" Well, that's true : and I doubt whether a lord would have
spoken with him, if he had been so dangerous as he seems some-
times. Now, as to dinner to-day, Oliver — I really don't like to
give Mildred such food as the game on the island now is. I am
sure it is downright unwholesome. Bird and beast, they are all
dying off faster than we can kill them."

" The fowls are not all done, I hope. I thought we had some

meal-fed fowls left."

" Just two ; and that is all : and the truth is, I don't like to
part those two poor things, enjoying the meal-picking together;
and then, they are the last of our wholesome food."

" Then let us have them while they are wholesome. Boil one
to-day, and make the broth as nice as you can for Mildred. We
will cook the other to-morrow."

" And what next day ?"

" We will see to that when the day comes. Oh dear ! when
will these clouds have emptied themselves ? Surely they cannot
pour down at this rate long."

'' The thunder and lightning are just over, and that's a com-
fort," said Ailwin. "You might stand under any tree, now,
Oliver ; and you go wandering about, as if you were a duck in
your heart, and loved the rain."

Ailwin might wonder, for Oliver was indeed very restless. While
waiting the moment when he might again cross to the staircase,
he could not even stand still under a tree. The secret of his
having seen the boat was too heavy a one to be borne when he
was no longer busy. He felt that he should tell, if he remained
beside his sister and Ailwin ; so he wandered off, through the
wood, to try how far he could see over the waters to the south,
now that the tempest was passing away.

The Settlers at Home. 113

Through the trees he saw some one — a tall person, walking on
the grass by the water-side. He ran — he flew. There was a boat
lying against the bank, and two or three men walking towards the
wood. The foremost was Pastor DendeL Oliver sprang into
his arms, clung round his neck for a moment, and then fainted
away.

CHAPTER XH,

NEWS.

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 1 O no ! Don't let these men go and startle Mildred
and the rest "

" Thank Qod. 1" 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 Redfum."

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 ? "

1 14 The Settlers at Home,

" 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 start-
ing and calling out. OHver 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 nimour 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 \i there really were no boats in
all the district. Some had certainly been swamped and broken
by the rush of the fidod : and there was great difficulty in bringing
round from the coast such as could there be had from the fisher-
men. 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 impos-
sible yet to say ; but the cleverness and the hopefulness with
which a multitude had struggled for life, during five days of hard-
ship and peril were wonderful and admirable. Mrs. Linacre had
trusted in the power which God gives his children in such ex-
tremity, 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

The Settlers at Home, 115

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 wliich 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 httle 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 neigh-
bour 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.

I 2

1 1 6 The Settlers at Home.

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 con-
vulsively, 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 fev/ 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 1
Knowing nothing else, and feeling very strangely, she yet under-
stood 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

TJie Settlers at Home. 1 1 7

stronger, which no one yet attempted to explain to her ; but
her mother smiled at her so happily, that she supposed she waf
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.