CHAPTER VII
Luke burst into my room early next morning, to tell me that the waterswere out to a height such as no one remembered. The Don, which hadbeen turned by the Dutchmen into a channel connecting it with the Aire,had taken its old course with fury, flooding the western side of Crowleas with a second deluge. I jumped out of bed, almost forgetting theaching and soreness of my head and the stiffness of my limbs, for, ifthis account were true, the inhabitants of the Crowle vicarage were injeopardy. Luke assured me that "'twas no manner of use to try to reachCrowle by riding, for t' causey was under water;" so after I had brokenfast with a crust and a cup of small ale, I had out my boat, and takingLuke with me, set sail northward. The marsh had become a deep lake,and the low-lying fields in our neighbourhood were flooded, and hereand there we came on the carcase of a sheep or a pig; but when we drewnear to Crowle there was a sorry sight indeed. The cornfields on theslopes of Totlets had disappeared under muddy water, and severalclay-built cottages had crumbled and fallen in. Some of the recenttenants were about in punts, gathering up what they could of their bitsof furniture. From them we learned that no life had been lost there.The folk had been aroused by the barking and whining of a dog, and hadtaken refuge on higher ground, before the old walls fell in. As wecame nearer to the town, the water was so cumbered with wreckage, thatwe let down the sail, and took to the oars, lest we should foul amongthe bundles of reeds, straw-stooks, empty casks, dead sheep and swine,hay rakes, pails, and other things innumerable, which were strewn onthe surface of the water. Some of the more westerly houses weresurrounded with water up to the lower windows, and at sight of us, theinhabitants, who were at the upper windows, set up a great cry forhelp. We shouted that we would come, or send to them, as soon as mightbe, our first concern being the vicarage. Passing Farmer Dowson's onour right, we saw him and his men, waist-deep in the water, staggeringunder bags of corn, carrying pigs in their arms, struggling withfrightened horses, leading them to the higher ground behind thefarmstead. The farmer hailed us, but only to relieve his soul byshouting a malediction on the Dutch. The water became shallower as weneared the church, for (as we discovered later) the first rush of theriver had brought down an immense quantity of silt, which had beendeposited in a bed sloping from the wall of the churchyard. To oursurprise we found the depth at the gate of the vicarage not more thantwo feet. We moored our boat to the old oak, and with some difficulty,for the bottom was soft, made our way to the house, where we found theinmates in safety on the upper floor. My aunt was loud in lamentationover her goods and chattels and store of food. The vicar's mostpressing care seemed to be a funeral, which had been arranged for thisday. Doctor Goel was poring over a plan of the drainage, going againthrough calculations, which proved to his satisfaction that the channelcut for the Don was deep and wide enough to carry off its water intothe Aire in any possible event, and that the embankment raised mustinfallibly resist whatever pressure could be brought against it. Hewas so perfectly certain that what had happened could not by any chanceoccur, that I was obliged to laugh in his face--and mightily offendedhim.
"You cannot suppose, doctor," said I, "that the Islonians have brokendown the embankment for the pleasure of drowning themselves."
"I do not know that," he snapped. "They are stupid enough."
Remembering how the water had gradually accumulated before the comingof the great rain, I believed that neither the drain for the turning ofthe Don, nor that for the conveyance of the surface water had beenlarge enough for its purpose, but I did not offer my wisdom to thedoctor just then.
Mistress Goel asked many questions, and wept and wrung her hands tohear of the distress of the people, but she was quickly her calm selfagain, entering into talk of what had best be done for them. My firstnotion had been to collect as many boats as were to be had, and to goto bring the folk from the outlying farms and cottages to Crowle.
"But you need not do that," said she, "unless there is danger of ahouse giving way. The water is subsiding."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"By a mark I made on the staircase wall at five o'clock this morning.The water has sunk three inches since then."
I said something in praise of her self-possession in a time of alarm,but she urged me to the present work.
"The poor people out in the flood," said she, "will have little ornothing to eat. Their food will be spoiled, and they will have nomeans of procuring fresh supplies. That is the first thing to bethought of. And the mere sight of a friendly face will do them muchgood. Will it not be best to load your boat with a stock of suchprovisions as are to be had, and to send some one of influence roundthe town to urge others to follow you?"
To this I agreed, and, after some further talk, I turned to go. As Istepped into the water at the foot of the stairs, she called to me fromthe landing--
"Oh, Frank, don't forget milk for the children."
I looked up, and saw her face burning. "I will not forget," Ianswered, and out I strode with the music lingering in my ears.
Old men and women still tell the tale of the great flood, and part ofthe tale is how the "young squire" of Temple did feats of rowing,lifting, and carrying in helping the folk. If I was bold and activebeyond the ordinary on that day, and I think I was, the secret is thatI had heard my name for the first time from the lips of my love, andseen her blush to use it.
It is no affair of mine to repeat the chimney-corner story. Itsuffices to say that I and Luke and a dozen willing fellows worked ourhardest until dark, visiting every farmstead and every hovel whichremained standing on the lower levels.
A score cottages right on the bank of the river, occupied by labourersand marshmen and their families, had been swept clean away, with whatdestruction of life could not then be known. The farmers' losses wereterribly heavy. The havoc done among horses and cattle wasconsiderable, and hundreds of swine and thousands of sheep had beendrowned. Stacks were overthrown and spoiled, and the standing cropswere ruined.
How the men cursed the Dutch! Their threats of vengeance made me wishthat Mistress Goel and her father were safely out of Crowle. For ourIslonians are not fellows who ease their minds with a curse, and thenthink no more of it, but of that slow, stubborn kind, which smouldersfirst and does not flame until the end. I assured them that their"Solicitor" would demand compensation for their losses. I argued thatthis disaster might have so much good in it as to justify my father'sresistance to the Vermuijden scheme, and oblige the King and hisadvisers to hear reason. But I met with bitter and scornful laughterfor the most part.
One man said, "'Taint no sort of use to talk so, Mester Frank. Yourfather is a real gentleman, but he's no match for the Dutch devils. Wedidn't ought to ha' listened to his peaceable kind of discoursing.Squire Portington's is the way to deal with robbers and murderers likeVermuijden and his gang."
Pretty nearly all were of the same mind, and I returned to the vicaragedispirited and apprehensive, and so weary and spent and heavy withsleep, that I crept off and tumbled into bed, too tired even to talkwith Mistress Goel.
Most unexpectedly, the vicar requested me to remain a few days at hishouse. Hitherto, we had had little to say to each other; he never hadmuch to say to any one. I had disliked him from my early childhood,when I got the impression that he was bound in parchment like one ofhis folios, and that the back of his head had been chopped off. Hisdays were passed among those folios, and Mr. Butharwick spoke withrespect of his learning, but what good came of it I never knew. Hepreached sermons of an inordinate length, and totally incomprehensibleto me, and, as I judged, to his parishioners generally, who composedthemselves for slumber when they heard the text. My aunt attended toall the affairs of the parish, and always inspected the parson beforehe left the house, to see that he was decently clad, and had hishandkerchief in his pocket.
The calamitous flood aroused him to the everyday life around him, notall at once, but slowly. He entered into the sorrows of his bereavedparishioners especially
, of whom there were many. One Coggan, a smallfarmer, had been found dead in the water at the foot of a ladderdescending from his bedroom. Another man, a somewhat drunken fellow,had been overtaken by the flood, while sleeping off his drink on thekitchen floor. An old man, whose people had left him alone for thenight, had been caught and overwhelmed in the act of opening his door,apparently. The child of Ducker, the blacksmith, had been ailing for aday or two, but on the night of the inundation had fallen asleep on acouch, and slept so peacefully that the mother would not disturb itsslumber, but covered it up as it lay, and went to bed. She found itdrowned in the morning. Besides these cases in the town itself,numerous bodies were recovered in the neighbourhood of the cottages onthe banks of the Don and elsewhere. In these circumstances, manyappeals were made to the vicar for guidance, help, and consolation.The sexton lost his wits, poor man, and there were difficulties inmaking preparation for the decent interment of so many bodies, as wellas difficulties as to who would guarantee payment for this and that.We were hard put to it to find a messenger to go for the coroner, everyman's hands were so full of his own, or his master's business.Consequently, the vicar impressed me into service, and gave everythinginto my charge. I must do him the justice to acknowledge that he wasdiligent in attending to his spiritual duties, and generous with hispurse. The painful and somewhat horrible details are no necessary partof my narrative, and so I leave them; but, as may be supposed, I wasfully occupied for several days.
There was an hour every evening which made up, and more than made up,for all the weariness and trouble of the day, when Mistress Goel talkedawhile with me, or sang to me. Our talk was mainly of the oneengrossing subject, and there could be no quiet, private chat at such atime; but to see her and to hear her voice was enough to make me happyfor the present.
Luke made me somewhat uneasy by telling me that he had overheardconversation at the White Hart, and elsewhere, to the effect thatDoctor and Mistress Goel had come over to Crowle "to charm the water."Dame Hind had had much to say of the certainty of their being incommerce with the devil, and some of her guests swore to put an end tothe witches at the first opportunity. Although I did not think thesethreats very serious, and had perfect confidence in my own ability toprotect my friends, being in high favour with the Crowle folk, Icontrived to restrain them from going beyond the vicarage grounds,except when I could accompany them. Luke was exceedingly afraid, butas he had always a keen nose for scent of danger, his fears did notexcite mine.
On the third evening of my stay, Sheffield was announced. He met mewithout a trace of confusion.
"Ha, Vavasour!" he said. "Give you joy of coming to life again."
"Thanks--much thanks," I replied.
"Coming to life again!" cried my aunt. "What do you mean, my lord?"
"Has he told you nothing? When last I saw him, on the night of thethunderstorm, he was struck by lightning."
"Struck by lightning!" my aunt echoed.
"Yes; I overtook him on the road, and we got into some sort of quarrel,about what I don't remember, for, to confess the truth, I was toodrunk. We were riding side by side, jabbering angrily, when I saw aball of fire flashing down. It struck Vavasour, and he fell from hishorse. I am ashamed to say that I was so dazed and terrified that Irode off as fast as I could, and left him to his fate."
Being pressed to give my account, I said, "I did not see the flashwhich knocked me down, and I can tell you no more, except that I foundmyself in bed next morning, little the worse."
My aunt gave me a scolding (with tears in her eyes) for my reticence,and was touchingly grateful to Sheffield for informing her of the perilI had been in. Doctor Goel's interest was in the meteor, and he askedso many questions about the size and shape and colour of it, the degreeof its brightness, the length of time it was visible, and so forth,that Sheffield got himself into a coil of contradictions, and thenexcused them on the ground that he was very drunk at the time.
"By Bacchus," said the doctor, "you must have been."
One person kept silence, but her bright eyes were observant ofSheffield and me. Doctor Goel turned to me, and endeavoured to extractsome account of my feelings, but I stuck to it that I could tellnothing more. Sheffield took himself off, declining my aunt'sinvitation to stay supper.
Mistress Goel hinted a desire for a walk, and I, being eager enough,stood ready to accompany her. While she put on her hat and wrap, Iwaited in the hall, and Luke, who was never far from my elbow at thistime, came to me with my pistols.
"You may need 'em," said he, in a low voice. "I've seen some uglyfellows about this evening."
I laughed, but took them, and the belt which Luke had not forgotten,and armed myself besides with a tough ash-stick, which I reckoned thebest weapon a man could carry.
We took the path winding upward through the wood to Crown Hill, themoon, now nearly full, shining intermittently through scudding cloudsinto our faces.
"I want to ask about the attempt made on your life the other evening,"my companion said abruptly. "Oh!" she continued, "I know the taleabout a thunderbolt is altogether false. You were struck down frombehind, and left for dead. Your assailant cannot understand how it isyou are alive, so he makes up a story as a defence for himself,perhaps, or, more probably, to provoke you to say something which mayclear up what is mysterious to him. And you saw the design, and wouldnot betray the secret."
"This is wizardry!" I said, staring.
"Oh dear, no! it is ordinary woman's wit, enlightened by the lookswhich passed between you and your enemy."
I granted that she had rightly discerned, but said nothing of whatfollowed the knock-down blow.
"You are determined to keep secret the manner of your rescue?" sheasked.
"At present, yes," I answered.
"Doubtless you have good reason. But there is another matter on whichI wished to speak with you. Do you allow that there is such a virtueas prudence? If so, is it prudent to expose yourself to an enemy--apowerful, crafty, unscrupulous enemy?"
Then I burst out, "Do you bid me run away from him? Because----"
"Stay one moment," said she. "Surely prudent avoidance and cowardlyflight are not the same thing."
"There is too much of a family likeness for me to distinguish betweenthem," said I.
"So I feared," she answered. "What is the noise we hear?"
It was the noise of a crowd--hurrying feet, hoarse shouts. It camerapidly near. The mob was coming up the hill. Now I could heardistinctly "foreign witch," "Dutch devil," and other cries of a foulerkind. Unmistakably we were pursued. On the crest of the hill stood anold windmill, which might shelter us, and thither I hurried MistressGoel. The door was padlocked, but one strong kick crashed it open.Pushing my companion inside, I took up the door, laid it across theentrance, dragged a few sacks of corn against it, and had a tolerablebarricade; not a moment too soon, for the mob was upon us, with a yellof disappointed rage at sight of the obstacle in their way.
"Can you load a pistol?" I asked Mistress Goel.
"Yes," she answered.
I detached powder-horn and shot-bag from my belt, and passed them toher.
"I will throw my pistol into your lap, if I have to fire; reload it andgive it to me, keeping well behind me," I ordered.
By this time the crowd had gathered in front of the mill. Luckily wewere in shadow, and the moonlight was full on them. For half a minutethey halted, and a murmur of talk among the leaders was the only sound.Then one of them stepped forward.
"One stride nearer, and I fire," I said quietly.
"Nobody wants to hurt you, Measter Frank," the fellow said. "Give upthe witch, that's all we ask."
"There's no witch here," I answered. "There is a lady, the guest ofyour vicar; woe betide you if she comes to harm at your hands! But youwill have to murder me before you lay finger on her."
"She be a witch, and brought the water on us; Nancy Isle knows it forsartain sure," replied the spokesman.
(This Nancy
Isle was a poor creature in her dotage, but still held inrepute as a "wise woman.")
"She gave Mat, hostler, stuff that cured his ague in no time," shouteda voice. "Has a charm to tame wild things," cried another. "Doth washall over in cold water every morning, which would kill any Christian;Lisabeth, maid at the vicarage, told me herself," bawled another. "Shemakes hell-broth of galls and toadstools and caterpillars. I've seenthe old devil agathering 'em for her," said another. "On with you, youcowards," shrieked a female voice. "Are you feared of one man, and himbewitched? She killed my innocent babe, and I'll tear her eyes out."And Ducker's wife came forward with a rush, three men following.
I shot the first of them through the shoulder, and he fell; I broughtthe butt of the pistol down heavily on one hand of the woman, who wasclawing at the barrier like a wild cat, which sent her howling. Theother two men came on slowly enough to give me time to toss the pistolinto my companion's lap, and to cower for an upward blow with the fist.I struck one of them under the chin, and he went backward insensible;but the second got half over the door before I could deal with him.With some shame, though I was fighting for more than life, I gave him akick in the "wind," which settled him for a while. So far I hadsplendid luck, and the enemy were a bit cowed, but if they came on in abody, I must be overborne by sheer weight. Their pluck was notsufficient for that just now; they began to throw stones, which was nota bad move, seeing that I was bound to guard the doorway. I received atremendous blow on the jaw. Then followed a lull, which ended in oneof the crowd calling to me--
"We don't want to kill thee, young squire."
"Thanks," I replied. "I am not much killed so far."
"We don't want to kill thee. Give up the witch, and we'll swim her.If she sinks, we'll go away. If she floats, thou'lt leave her. Wecan't say fairer nor that."
"Now listen to me," I answered. "You can have any one tried by propercourse of law for witchcraft. If you take the law into your own hands,I shall kill some of you, and the rest will be hanged for killing me."
They replied by a volley of stones, and a furious rush. A stone struckMistress Goel, and she sank to the floor. I could do nothing for her,save push her with my foot as far back from the door as I could reach,for the men were on me, shouting, and brandishing sticks and knives. Istepped back, counting on their jamming themselves together in theopening, which they did, coming on pell-mell. Attempting no kind ofguard, I stood to crack intruding heads. A knife was thrown, and stuckin my left shoulder, whether in cloth or flesh, I knew not. My goodash-plant struck three heads down, and my boot smashed a face at acorner. Then the fellows drew off a little, dragging their fallencomrades with them, but still facing the doorway; so I whipped outpistol, and shot one of them in the leg. That sent them out of range.
"Hand me the pistol," said my companion, rather faintly.
"Thank God!" I ejaculated, but I could not leave my post to see her.
Some of the men were talking loudly, and pointing; others ran off invarious directions. Shortly, they returned, carrying dead branches andheaps of straw. They made for the other side of the mill, keeping wellout of pistol shot. Plainly they meant to set the mill on fire andburn us out. It would blaze quickly, for it was slightly built, andthe timber old and dry, and I feared that the place would be too hotfor us long before a large number of people were drawn to the spot; butour best plan was to stay where we were as long as might be possible.The bulk of our enemies now sat on the ground to await the result ofthe fire. I might have broken a hole through the mill wall, but oursafety--such as it was--depended on there being only one opening toguard. So, keeping one eye on the enemy, I looked at Mistress Goel'shurt. It was a gash over the eye, and had bled copiously, but thebleeding had ceased. She insisted on cutting open my sleeve, fromwhich the knife had fallen, after sticking there some time, and found adeepish cut, and my sleeve soaked with blood. She bound up the woundwith a strip from her dress. Now we heard a great crackling androaring outside. The fire had taken hold.
"Frank," said Mistress Goel, and my heart thrilled at the word and thetone. "Frank, promise that you will kill me rather than let me fallinto their hands. I would ask for a pistol to do it myself, but youmay have need of them. Promise me, by all that is most sacred to you."
"I promise you that you shall not be taken alive, by the most sacred ofall things to me--my love for you."
The heat of the mill grew stifling. Snaky flames came through thecracks and crevices, and hissed upward.
"We must try for life," I said, and pulled away the sacks and the door.
The enemy awaited us. All at once, they turned the other way, and thehead constable rode into view, followed by a posse of young men, someon horseback, some on foot. Then the crowd fled a dozen ways, and Icarried my fainting lady into the midst of a group of cheering,laughing friends.
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