hat was to be done now?
"This is a greater bother than any of the others," said Alfy. "I expect I shall have to wade or swim now, if I can. Then I must run to the village in my wet things. But how shall I get back to the house? Bother the tub, I say! However did it get loose?"
The reason was that he had not fastened it very firmly; but then he did not expect he would be so long in the tree, nor did he think the current of the water would have such influence.
But the tub had gone, and he must do the best he could without it. From his perch in the tree he could obtain a clear view of the flood. The muddy water glistened in the bright sunshine, as though trying to look pleasant.
The house was, as we have said, in a hollow, or depression of the ground, and the flood, Alfy could see distinctly, came from some way behind the house, and flowed round and past it; but whence it came, or whither it went, he could not discover.
"It can't come from the river," he said thoughtfully, "for that is in a different direction. I cannot imagine what causes it."
Sundry things he noticed were floating on its surface.
Here was a quantity of hay, sailing slowly and solidly along in a fairly compact mass; farther on a little yellow straw flashed in the sunshine; not far off again pieces of wood floated; and then, curiously enough, a little tin hand-bowl bobbing about quite pertly, as it was borne along. That tin bowl gave him an idea.
"I know!" he cried; "I will ask Mansy and Edie to send off the old tin bath to me from the house."
Thereupon he shouted loudly to attract their attention.
At first they did not answer, and he could hear various sounds, indicating that Mansy was endeavouring to repair some of the mischief done by the flood. "They are busy," he said, and again he cried, louder this time than before.
His shouts attracted Edie's attention, and she hastened to the window, where her exclamation of surprise soon brought the others. "Bless the boy!" exclaimed Mansy, "however did he get there? Where's the tub?"
"Can you send me the old bath?" he cried.
The girls disappeared hastily from the window, and Mansy cried again: "You are never going to get into that bath, Master Alfy, surely!"
"Oh! I can manage it," he replied briskly, "if you can send it down to the tree. Tell them to put a pole or something in it, dear Mansy, for me to paddle it with."
"You must be quick, Alfy, and get us some provisions," urged Mansy, "or I don't know what we shall do. We shall get starved!"
Alfy laughed in the gaiety of his heart. He was a merry, cheerful, plucky little lad, who could not talk religion, but strove to act it. Nelson's grand words, "England expects every man to do his duty," was his motto, unexpressed though it was.
"Never fear, Mansy," he cried, "I'll be back in good time. You shall have plenty to cook and eat to-day!"
Then Mansy disappeared from the window, and Alfy soon heard sounds, as though the bath were being brought along. It was a somewhat high-backed sitz bath, which had seen some service in the family.
Splash!
Over it went from the window, and of course it fell bottom-upwards!
"Ah-h-h!" he cried, "what a mull! Now I shall have to wait here a long time till it is righted. Take care, please; don't let it float away!" he shouted.
He soon saw that quick-witted Edie had hastened below to the table, which had remained as it was placed last evening, and stretching out of the window with a broom, which was the handiest and most efficient thing she could readily find, was holding the bath to the house.
In answer to Alfy's cries, Mansy went down to help Edie, and then the others following, they all endeavoured to turn the bath top upwards. This task they at length accomplished, with the help of one or two more brooms; and having fastened string round it to prevent its escape, it was launched with a vigorous push in Alfy's direction. It floated pretty buoyantly on the water, though its high back seemed to make it a little top-heavy.
Well was it that the strange craft had been tethered, or it might have floated provokingly just out of Alfy's reach; but, with a little pulling and guidance by means of the string, it was coaxed near enough to Alfy, so that he could throw in his tin with the cord attached, and persuade it to float right under the tree.
In a very short time he had cautiously descended and dropped into his novel boat. Yes, it floated still, though his weight caused it, of course, to sink deeper in the water. Perhaps, however, it was less liable to overturn, for its load ballasted it, and rendered it less top-heavy.
With a loud "Hurrah!" he pushed off smartly from the tree, and giving one wave of the hand to those watching him from the house, turned his attention to navigating his strange craft to the shore.
Now, for a paddle Edie had put in a long broom-handle, and grasping this in the middle, he plied it alternately one side and then the other.
Strange use for a broom-handle; but the occupants of the Island House never expected to be caught by a flood like this, so they had to do the best they could. "Hullo! I must look out for that mass of hay!" said Alfy. "That I shall call an iceberg; or, no, a whale I think. Out of the way, whale!" he cried, pushing it off briskly with his indispensable broom-handle.
Hard though he worked, he made but slow progress, his craft was so unwieldy and difficult to manage. "I wonder where the tub is!" he cried. "Why, actually there, stranded against the hedge! The tub was better than the bath. I've a good mind to go after that tub and bring both to land."
And this the plucky little fellow accomplished. He was becoming quite expert in the use of the paddles, and, of course, as soon as he came to the hedge-top, he was able to propel the bath along more quickly. He fastened the tub and bath together, and then transferring himself to the former, set to work to bring both to the bank. He found it a difficult task, but he persevered, and in a short time was successful. At last he leaped on dry land. With a triumphant shout, he attracted the attention of Mansy and his sisters to his success, and then, after firmly mooring his fleet—as he called the tub and the bath—he set off quickly for the village.
Now, his way led him soon beside a tall hedge. And, as he was hastening along, he became aware of voices on the other side. At first he paid little attention, but then a word or two about the flood struck his ear. "If I could see them," he said, "I would ask how it was caused." But—what was one voice saying?
"If I told what I knew about your neglecting your duty, you would catch it hot, I can tell you."
"But you won't tell, I'm sure," replied the other.
"I don't know so much about that."
"I didn't mean to," whined the other.
"Didn't mean to! Of course you didn't. Still you did it. And this here ter'ble flood is the result. You was in drink, you know you was; and you was careless, and didn't do your dooty. You ought to have watched, and given the alarm, and the banks might have been mended, and the flood saved."
Alfy heard every word distinctly. There was an opening in the hedge a little farther on, and the voices seemed to be going towards it, even as he was himself.
"Who'd have thought," said the second man apologetically, "that that stout wall would have burst."
"You may be thankful it didn't burst the other side," answered the first man, "and the water flooded Tarn'ick. It's bad enough as it is, coming to the village; but it would have been very much worse then."
So this was the cause of the flood. The reservoir which supplied the populous town of Tarnwick had burst, and its contents had poured down towards the village. And had the village suffered at all? Alfy was anxious to know. And how had the man neglected his duty, and caused the flood?
The lad was now near the opening in the hedge, and he suddenly, but distinctly, saw the two men whom he had heard talking. He did not recognise either of them; but, at sight of him, they started in surprise, and stopped at once, and looked at him strangely, as though to ask what he had heard.
Alfy walked straight on, past the opening in the hedge, as though the men were not there, and on through the pleasant field. But the faces of those men were impressed on his mind, and he felt he should know them again.
Certainly their conversation had given him something to think of, but the chief thing now that he had to do was to purchase provisions, and have them conveyed to the house. Should he find much damage done at the village?
That question was soon answered, for, on arriving there, he found that the flood had passed it almost entirely by. Most of the houses were on fairly high ground, and the river being near, much of the water had flowed thither. Yet some of the cottages in the lower part had suffered, and Alfy heard much of them, and of a farmhouse and its buildings, which had also been flooded. He heard, too, of the difficulties which had been experienced in saving some of the animals.
He knew that farmhouse well. He and his sisters had played there with the children who lived under its pleasant roof. The flood had come so suddenly, and the house wherein Alfy lived was in such a retired spot, that no one seemed to have thought of it and its inmates. He therefore found himself listened to with eagerness and some surprise when he told of their condition.
"And how am I to send you these goods, then?" asked Mr. Daw, the tradesman of whom Alfy had been ordering a supply of grocery. "I could send them by cart, but I have not a boat."
"Do you know where I could borrow one?" asked Alfy anxiously.
Well, Mr. Daw was not sure. There were a few boats on the river, but how was one to be brought from thence to the flood near the house?
Nevertheless, he thought of a few persons to whom Alfy could apply, and the boy left him, after arranging that he would return later to point out the spot where the goods were to be taken.
Alfy bought a few more goods, a joint of meat among them, at some other shops, directing them to be taken to Mr. Daw, who had promised to send all together. The boy had then a troublesome task; it was to find a boat or some means of conveying the provisions to the Island House. He had not time to talk much to any of the acquaintances and friends he met, though they were greatly interested in the condition of affairs at his home, and various were the directions he received as to the best means of getting a boat.
The river was a small one. It was stony in parts, so that there was not much boating. Still there were one or two kept at points along its course, and Alfy found himself, at length, asking a jolly-looking old gentleman, to whom he had been directed, but whom he did not know at all, if he would lend his boat, and telling him why it was wanted.
"Eh! what! house all surrounded by water? Quite an island, eh? That's what we used to learn at school—Island House, eh?"
"Yes, that is what we call it," laughed Alfy, somewhat reassured by the jolly old gentleman's cheerfulness and geniality.
"Of course I'll lend the boat," said the old gentleman. "That's what we've got to do, help one another—and mind you think of that, my boy; but the question is, how can you get it up to the house?"
"I heard that the flood was running into the river," replied Alfy, "so I thought I could row up that way."
"What! you row up against the flood!" exclaimed the jolly old gentleman; "you can't do it."
"I can try," said Alfy.
"Well, I might try and help you, but I am not much of a rower, and my son—it is he, really, who uses the boat—he is away from home. I question if I could pull my own weight. Most mysterious thing this flood. Where does it come from? How did it happen?"
So Alfy told what he had heard beside the hedge.
"Eh! what! eh! this is getting serious! One of the banks of Tarnwick reservoir burst! One man saying it is because of another's carelessness! This must be seen to. What sort of men were they? Should you know them again?"
And the jolly old gentleman who was now looking very serious, drew from Alfy all he knew about the men he had heard talking by the hedge.
"I must see to this quickly," said the old gentleman. "Send a policeman after them. Take the boat, my lad, and keep her as long as she is of any use to you. Good-bye, and good luck." And away he went.
Knowing that speed was very necessary, Alfy decided to try and row up the boat at once. At first, he thought he would seek help from some friends in the village. Then he determined not to do so. The village was some little distance from the jolly old gentleman's house, and some time, he thought, would be wasted in going to and fro. So he jumped in the boat, and cast off.
This was a case, however, of "more haste, less speed." If he had obtained assistance he would have made much better progress. The stream was against him, and he found it hard work pulling against it. But nothing seemed to daunt this boy's pluck.
"Put your back into it," he remembered an old boatman said, when last summer's holiday he and his sisters were rowing on a tidal river at a seaside resort, and now indeed he strove hard to put his back into his rowing.
He was certainly making progress. To escape the force of the current as far as possible he was creeping along by the shore. He was thinking whether he would row as near as he could to the village, and then jump out and tell Mr. Daw he had secured a boat, or whether he should row on to where he had left the tub and bath.
"I want to have as little distance to row the laden boat as I can," he said; "and I cannot take anyone to the house unless they will stay there, as we shall want the boat. What fun we will have to-morrow rowing about, and going for milk and things! I will point out the spot to Mr. Daw's man where they can be brought."
He was just considering which course he should pursue when suddenly his boat was stopped, and he heard some words which almost sent his heart jumping to his mouth.
"I say, youngster, what was it you heard me and my mate say this morning?"
lfy turned. Yes, one of the men he had heard talking beside the hedge, that morning, was leaning from the bank, and had stopped the boat.
He looked lowering and threatening.
"You don't budge an inch," growled he, "till you've told me what you have been to Squire Watkins's for."
"To borrow this boat."
"Something else as well," said the man. "What did you hear me and my mate saying this morning, and what have you told about it?"
"What right have you to ask me?" replied Alfy sturdily.
"I'll soon show you the right," exclaimed the man gruffly, at the same time raising his hand. "Now, then, out with it!"
"Out with what?" said Alfy doggedly.
Bang! Alfy felt a heavy blow on his head, which made the fire flash from his eyes, and nearly knocked him overboard; but, tingling with pain and indignation, he swept round the oar he held in his right hand, and struck the man sharply on the shoulder.
His assailant seized the oar, and a smart struggle ensued, in which the man's superior strength and position enabled him to be victorious. He wrested the oars from Alfy, and then, after cuffing him soundly, and calling him an "insolent young warmint," tied him tightly to the skiff with the boat-rope—which is commonly called the painter.
Alfy, smarting with the injustice of the attack, managed to administer a few wholesome kicks to his assailant during the struggle. Then a long, low whistle sounded, and the man hurried away, leaving the boy bound and aching in the boat.
The day was now fast wearing on, and the sun was beginning to sink in the heavens. As Alfy lay back in the boat his mind was racked with anxiety about the provisions, and his promises to take back food to the Island House. His sisters and Mansy might starve if he could not get the provisions to them. Then he shouted aloud to attract attention.
No answer came. His voice seemed borne back upon him as from an empty void. Again and again he called until he grew weary with shouting, and sickened with suspense and anxiety and disappointment. He seemed as far from his kind here as if he were alone in the deserts of Arabia.
Then he bethought him once more of self-help. "I wonder if I could free myself," he said. "I have got over several difficulties lately, perhaps I can get over this one also." He struggled upwards to a sitting position, and looked at his bonds. His wrists and ankles were tied pretty firmly, and one end of the rope was of course fastened to the boat.
"I suppose that rascal tied me up like this to give himself time to escape," said Alfy thoughtfully, as he looked down at the rope. "He thinks I know a lot about him, and will tell what I know, and he wants to get a good start. I wonder if I could undo these knots with my teeth? They crack nuts, why not untie knots? I will try."
Happily his teeth were strong and sharp—teeth which many an older person would have envied. He was plucky and persevering also, and he set to work with a will to gnaw, or unfasten, or "worry" open the tough knots which bound him.
It was a stiff job, and a tiring one too. But he kept on pluckily, and would not give up. The sun sank lower in the heavens, and the beautiful summer afternoon wore on. "Oh! how they will wonder what has become of me at home!" he sighed. "I must be quick," and he redoubled his efforts.
But he found the task too difficult. The rope was hard and tough, and time was fast passing. His teeth and jaws quite ached with the unwonted use to which he was putting them. So after thinking over another plan he changed his tactics entirely.
Though his wrists were tied, his fingers were comparatively free; he could, for instance, grasp firmly with them anything that was not very large. He had noticed that the end of the rope tethering the boat had been tied to the bough of a young willow near the water's edge. He resolved to break that bough, and then slowly work the boat along by pulling at the grass, reeds, or anything on the bank. In a short time he carried out the first part of his programme.
Compared with gnawing at the hard rope, the twisting of the supple bough backwards and forwards, until he wrested it from the parent stem, was but a light task. It was more difficult to work the boat along against the stream. Yet by patience and pluck and perseverance—the three "p's" that all young folks should seek to acquire—he managed to succeed.
"Should that man come back to trouble me," he said, "he will find me gone; that will be something. Still I do not quite see how I am to get the things for the house, tied as I am to this boat."
Pluckily he pulled at the grass and reeds, and worked the boat along. When he had gone some distance from the point where the man had fastened the boat, he shouted again, and he continued to shout at intervals. But no cry answered his own. There was no sound but the lapping of the water against the boat or the murmur of the wind.
So some time passed. Alfy was getting very weary and hungry. There seemed no chance of help coming to him, and the situation was the more vexing, as he felt that his knife in his pocket, if he could but have got it, would soon have made short work of the knots. But in the circumstances the knife might have been left at the house, for all the good it was to him.
At length he came to the place where the flood poured into the river. "Hurrah!" he cried, "this does look like making progress. Now I will try and get as near as I can to the house."
It was at times more difficult to make progress on the flood than on the stream, for there was no decided bank such as edged the river; but he took advantage where he could of anything on the brink of the water, such as a hurdle or a bush, a stile or a hedge, and pluckily kept at his work.
In the village, Mr. Daw was getting quite fidgety at Alfy's absence.
"What can have happened to the lad?" said he. "The boy would surely not be so long in finding a boat, and if he could not find one he would have been here to say so. Jones, just you put all these things in the pony cart and get as near as you can to Fairglen." Fairglen was the right and proper name of the Island House.
"He has evidently been to other shops," continued Mr. Daw. "Here's a large sirloin of beef from Smithers, and quite a cargo of bread from Deane's, and vegetables and fruit from Wilson's. Why, good gracious me! one would think they were going to stand a siege up at Fairglen. I 'spect it is as the lad says, they've got nothing at all to eat. What can be keeping the boy I can't think."
"Prap's he's tumbled into the water, please, sir, and got drownded," drawled out Jones slowly.
"Get on quickly and put these things in the cart," said his master sharply. Jones' slow ways and stupid remarks generally annoyed Mr. Daw.
In quick time the goods for the Island House were packed in the grocer's little cart, and the slow Jones seated himself in front. "Drive as near to Fairglen as you can," said his master, "and shout aloud to attract attention. Now, mind you deliver the goods quickly."
"As quickly as I can," replied Jones, a grin slowly spreading over his expansive face.
Thus it came about in time that while Alfy was slowly working his way along by the brink of the flood, the well-meaning but rather stupid Jones was staring in profound astonishment at the tub and the tin bath Alfy had left in the morning.
"Well, I never!" exclaimed Jones. "They be rum boats, they be!"
He had driven the cart up the lane as far as he could, and after tethering the horse, was now rambling beside the water.
"But how I'm to carry the meat and taters and sugars over to the house in them things I don't know!"
Then he remembered his master's injunction to shout, and he shouted accordingly. "I wish I knew where that young gent had got to!" continued Jones, and again he raised his hoarse voice, and shouted. "Why, what's that 'ere?" he exclaimed. "Is it an ecker, or is it the young gent?"
Again he shouted, as loud as he could this time, and then paused. Yes, faint and clear came an answering shout. There was no mistake this time! "Why, there he be!" exclaimed Jones in astonishment. "There he be! there he be!"
Then he began to move slowly in the direction of the shout, and called aloud again. The answer was louder and more distinct this time.
"I be getting nearer to him," chuckled Jones, "that I be!"
But when presently he came close enough to see the young boatman distinctly he stood still in complete amazement, with eyes and mouth wide open. The sapient Jones had had other things to astonish him considerably to-day, what with the flood and the tub and the bath, but this beat all. Here was Alfy tied to the boat, and labouring with bound wrists to work the skiff along.
"Don't stand staring there!" cried Alfy. "Can't you give me a hand?"
"Well I never!" exclaimed Jones. "Whatever did you tie yourself like that for?"
"Tie myself!" replied Alfy impatiently; "I didn't tie myself. Come, cut the rope quickly, and help me along."
"I ain't got no knife!"
"Oh, get mine out of my pocket, and do be quick, please."
"Well, I never did see anything like this afore!" spluttered Jones, as he tumbled into the boat. "My stars! however did you get tied up like this 'ere?"
Alfy did not vouchsafe any explanation, but gave him directions as to getting the knife quickly, and cutting the rope.
"Oh, how jolly!" he exclaimed, as he rose and stretched himself, when, after several clumsy efforts on Jones' part, he was at last made free.
"Now, can you row?" he continued briskly.
"How fur do 'ee want to go?"
"As far as a tub and a bath——"
"I see 'em!" interrupted Jones gleefully.
"Well, I want to get there, and then to hurry to Mr. Daw for some things," exclaimed Alfy.
"Things for Fairglen!" asked Jones, "'cos I got 'em, meat and taters and all!"
"Oh, that's right! Where are they?"
"In the cart, not far off."
"Well, can you row this boat, or shall we tow it along? Perhaps that will be best."
"Oh, I can pull with the rope," said Jones; "pull the boat and you too; you look tired enough."
So now, after his hard work, Alfy was able to lie back delightfully at his ease in the boat, and feel he was being drawn quickly along.
When they reached the two clumsy crafts Alfy had left in the morning he found them quite high and dry. "The flood is subsiding," he said. "Perhaps by to-morrow this time the water will all have gone!"
"P'raps it will," was Jones' reply, "and p'raps it won't. But I 'spects reservore's pretty nigh empty now."
"Oh, you've heard it's the reservoir?" exclaimed Alfy. "Do you know how the water came to flow out?"
"I heerd as how the wall looking this way suddenly bust," answered Jones, "and the water all rushed down here."
"But don't you know how the wall came to burst?" persisted Alfy.
"No-o; I can't say as how I do," replied Jones slowly, rubbing his head and knitting his brows as though deeply pondering the knotty point.
"Well, now, we must hasten on," said Alfy. "Where are those things for the house? Are they far?"
"They are in the cart in the lane."
"How can they be brought here?" asked Alfy. "Shall I help? Can't you bring the pony and cart through that gate? Let us be quick!"
"I think as how you and I must carry them here in lots," drawled slow-witted Jones. "I don't think pony and cart could come."
"Well, be sharp then!" urged Alfy, springing from the boat.
"Why, I do believe Mansy can see us from the house." And he shouted, and waved his handkerchief.
"Now, come on," cried he, "and show me where the things are."
The transferring of the goods from Mr. Daw's cart took some time, and made the youths very tired, for it was some little distance off. But Alfy was determined to start for the house as quickly as possible, and continued to urge on the slow-coach Jones; so that the task was accomplished more speedily than he had thought would be the case.
But then a new difficulty presented itself. Alfy wished to tie the tub and bath to the boat and take them back to the house, but he found that if he did so, wearied as he was, he could not row the laden boat against the flood. So he was finally obliged to take Jones with him. Even then the task was difficult, for Jones was not an expert oarsman.
At length, however, the house was reached, and with joy and gladness, shoutings and hearty congratulations, the goods were borne in through the window, and on to the table as before. Mansy and Alfy's sisters were rejoiced to see him. He had been so long away they feared some accident had befallen him; but he did not tell what had happened until Jones had gone.
For Jones had to go back, and of course he went in the boat. This was against Alfy's plan, but he could not help it. Jones could not leave the pony all night, and he could not navigate Alfy's tub. So promising to send some one with the boat in the morning, he departed.
Yet, if Alfy had known what would happen with that boat in the night he would have gone with Jones, and tired as he was, would have brought it back. But he did not know; and after a hearty supper all the inmates of the Island House retired to bed.
They had hardly passed out of their beauty sleep—i.e., the slumber before midnight—when, as the clocks were striking twelve, and an early chanticleer was crowing for the morn, Edie was awakened by some mysterious sounds—sounds as of something bumping against the walls of the house outside.
he listened. Yes, it was so. Distinctly she heard something knock against the wall outside and underneath her window.
Her first thought was to arouse her brother. "But he must be so tired," she said; so she decided to awaken Mansy instead.
The good woman was sleeping in the room next to Edie's, so that it would not be very difficult for the little maiden to go to her.
Edie sprang from her bed, her heart beating fast, and was creeping along to Mansy's room, when, noticing the moon shining brightly, she thought she would look out and see if she could discover what had bumped against the wall. Just now everything was very quiet.
Cautiously, therefore, she peeped out of her window. No one was to be seen, and the water in the moonlight looked very peaceful and still. But just underneath was a boat—the very boat, as it seemed to her, that Alfy had used that evening.
"Oh, I expect that boy from Mr. Daw's brought it back," she said; "that is all. How foolish of me to be frightened. I expect he got another boat and rowed this one back, and has now returned. I hear no sound down below. He must have gone. It was very kind of him to bring the boat. I don't think I need wake Mansy now. Everything seems very quiet."
So the little maiden crept back to bed, and secure in the idea that she had solved what had seemed to her something of a mystery, she was soon sound asleep again.
But in the early morning, when the busy-minded Mansy, anxious to get forward with the work of the day, descended to the kitchen, what was her amazement and horror, to discover a man lying at full length, and fast asleep, on the table.
Her first impulse was to seize the handy broom, and either sweep him away in some mysterious manner into the water, or else challenge him to mortal combat; but wiser counsels prevailed. Mansy thought of a little plan; and her worthy face looked quite knowing as, chuckling to herself, she hastily removed all the food from the room, and then carefully locked the door from the outside.
"Now, there is my gentleman safe and sound," she said. "If he gets out of the window he falls into the water and is drownded; while o' course we must see that he doesn't break the door down while Master Alfy is fetching a policeman; so there he is. Horrid idjot! what did he want to come here for; and how did he come?"
A glance outside showed her the boat, and showed her also that the water was certainly subsiding.
"That's a mercy!" said Mansy; "but, oh! what a mess the garden and everything will be in!"
The interior of the house showed that Mansy had been busy, for it presented a much more comfortable and tidy appearance than when she returned. A quantity of the water had been bailed out through the windows; and the cracks of the doors had been tightly plugged to prevent water trickling in again.
To-day Mansy wished to continue her tidying arrangements, and she also wanted to cook a good dinner. "Bother the man!" she exclaimed. "What a nuisance he is in the kitchen, when I wanted to have everything ready there!" And she commenced to boil a little water for breakfast over her spirit lamp.
Just then the unwelcome visitor gave more evidence of being a nuisance. He had awakened, and finding the door locked, and no means of egress but into the water, he began knocking the panels of the portal to attract attention.
"Knock away, my gentleman, knock away!" said Mansy. "You won't get out except into a policeman's arms, I can tell you!"
The noise soon brought down the children, and Mansy speedily explained the position of affairs.
"Then it was somebody I heard in the night," exclaimed Edie. "I thought of waking you, Mansy." And she told her experience during the dark watches.
"As things have turned out, it does not matter," said Mansy; "and I am glad you did not wake me. Out he doesn't come 'cept into a policeman's arms. Do you hear that, you wagabone?"
"I'll break the door down," he shouted, "if you don't open it." And he continued to knock loudly.
"Why," said Alfy, "that is like the voice of the man who treated me so badly yesterday. I wonder if it is he! Yes, I do believe it is," he added, as he heard the man shout again. "Oh, we must keep the door fast. Let us put chairs and tables against it!"
"It will be of no use for you to break the door," cried Alfy aloud, "for we are going to put things against it! What did you come here for?"
"I didn't mean no harm," grumbled the man. "I haven't took nothing. I only come for a sleep." Then after a pause he commenced to knock the door more heavily than before.
"Be quick, Master Alfy; oh, do be quick, and get a policeman! We can pile up things against the door," and Mansy commenced at once to drag a table towards it. "I have put some breakfast ready for you in the dining-room. Take something to eat as you go along."
So in a very short time Alfy found himself sculling the boat along to the shore. He noticed that the flood had much subsided during the night. Indeed, but for the fact that the house lay in a hollow, the water might perhaps have gone down before.
He found the village policeman more easily than some of the blue-coated brethren are said to be found. He was at his house, rather tired after his perambulations during the night. Alfy quickly told his errand, and described the man.
"Why, I b'lieves it's the very cove as I'm in search of!" exclaimed the policeman. "Looked for him all night, I have; I 'spects he thought your house was empty in the flood, and he should be safe there for the night. But he's reg'lar caught hisself in a trap, ain't he?"
And policeman 451 Z. of the Blankshire constabulary chuckled. Then he took out a pair of handcuffs, looked at them, turned them round, clinked them together, and slipped them back into his pocket.
"If," said he, "it is as how my man don't go quiet they may come in handy."
"Hadn't we better hurry on?" asked Alfy. "He may break the door down and overturn the things."
"I don't think he will," said the policeman, shaking his head. "Howsomdever, we will go." And taking a long drink of cold tea, he put some bread and cheese in his pocket, and exclaimed, "Now I'm ready."
The two sallied forth, and before very long they had reached the house. As the policeman had anticipated, the man had not beaten the door down, and when it was opened he walked almost literally into the policeman's arms, as Mansy had said.
"I'll go quiet," said the man, who in fact looked tired and hungry. "You needn't put on them things," glancing at the shining steel handcuffs. "I s'pose, missus," he said, looking at Mansy, "you couldn't give a half-starved creetur a crust o' bread, could ye? I'm dead beat!"
"Well! did you ever!" exclaimed Mansy. "After breaking into one's house, then axin' for bread! The imperence!"
"Now then, come on!" said the policeman; "you'll have some food at the lock-up. Get into that boat, smart!"
Airy had looked closely at the man. Yes, it was the same who had tied him in the boat yesterday. Should he give him something to eat? The boy hesitated. The man looked very worn and weary. Then the lad thought of the words,—"If thine enemy hunger, feed him." He hesitated no longer. He slipped into the dining-room, took a large slice of bread, and pressed it into the man's hand just as the policeman hustled him off. Then he hurried away, scarcely hearing the man's thanks, though seeing his look of surprise.
That day was a busy one for the inhabitants of the Island House. Mansy was very anxious that as far as possible every sign of the damage done by the water should be repaired and cleared away. So she kept the young people well employed. But the Island House, however, was rapidly becoming an Island House no longer, for the flood continued to subside on every hand.
When the man was examined before the magistrates, of course Alfy had to be present to testify what he knew about the matter, and the causes of the flood were thoroughly investigated. To do him justice, the man himself did not attempt to conceal anything. His fault was chiefly that of gross carelessness and neglect of duty. The wall of the reservoir had showed signs of weakness which he had failed to report to his superior officers. In fact, he had seen but little of those signs, for, instead of keeping to his work, he had wasted his time in drinking; and on the afternoon when the wall burst he was loitering in a public-house some distance off. He hid in the Island House for the night, not knowing anyone was still there.
The heavy rains of an exceptionally wet July had increased the volume of water in the reservoir to a great extent, and placed a much greater strain on the weakened wall. Hence it came to pass that when the increased pressure came, the wall not being repaired and strengthened, gave way with a crash. As the man had entered the Island House, he was committed for trial at the next assizes, and Alfy was complimented on his bravery and cleverness.
Next morning, when the children came down, they were quite astonished to find that the water had all disappeared, and the garden and grounds looked very strange and muddy after their long and unusual bath.
"Why! where has the flood gone to?" exclaimed Edie. "It has quite vanished away in the night."
"It was subsiding quickly yesterday," said Alfy.
"Now that we have done up the damage in the house, we must see what we can do for the garden," urged Mansy. "Why here is the postman coming up the path, just as if nothing had happened!"
"A letter from Auntie Rose!" cried Edie, taking the packet from the postman. "Perhaps she asks us all to the seaside."
That was exactly what Auntie Rose did ask, as they found when they read the letter. She was staying with their cousins in Devonshire, and thought they might come at once, as she knew of suitable apartments for them. Their parents, too, who were on the Continent, might perhaps join them there soon.
"Oh, that will be jolly!" cried the children.
"And when we come back," said Alfy, "I expect all signs of the flood will have gone. It has not been a bad time, though, has it, Mansy?"
"Perhaps not so very bad, Master Alfy," said Mansy, laughing; "only I could not abear that rockety tub. Now let us tidy the garden."
THE END.