On the night of the 15th the gale broke out again with redoubled fury, and the stage at the mission station was shaken so much by the violence of the waves and wind that fears were entertained of its stability, despite its great strength. The water rose six inches during that night, and when the vast extent of the floods is taken into account, this rise was prodigious. The current was also so strong that it was feared the church itself, with the property and people in its loft, would be swept away.

 

Towards daylight a boat was seen approaching. It turned out to be that of Mr Ravenshaw, containing himself and Lambert, with a crew from Willow Creek. The house of the old gentleman had, he said, much water in the lower rooms, so that he had been driven to its upper floor; but he felt sure of its strength, having himself helped to lay its foundations. Knowing the danger of those who dwelt in the parsonage, he had come to offer an asylum to as many as his house would hold. But Mr Cockran declined to quit his post. The gale was by that time abating, the cheering daylight increasing; and as he had a large boat of his own moored to a neighbouring post, he preferred to remain where he was. Mr Ravenshaw therefore ordered Louis to hoist the sail, and bidding adieu to the clerical party, returned to Willow Creek.

 

Of all the household there, Miss Trim had viewed the approach of the water with the greatest anxiety and Mrs Ravenshaw with the greatest philosophy. Miss Trim, being an early riser, was the first to observe the enemy on the morning of its entrance. She came down-stairs and found the water entering the house quietly by the sides, oozing from under the boards and secretly creeping along till it covered the floors. She rushed up-stairs to alarm Mr Ravenshaw, and met that active old gentleman coming down. He set to work at once to rescue his goods on the lower floor, while Miss Trim, in great excitement, went and roused the girls, who leaped up at once. Then she went to Mrs Ravenshaw’s room.

 

“Oh, Mrs Ravenshaw, get up quick; the flood is coming in at last—over the floors—through the chinks—up the seams—everywhere—do—do get up! We shall all be—”

 

She stopped. A long-drawn sigh and a gentle “hush!” was all the reply vouchsafed by Mrs Ravenshaw.

 

A quarter of an hour later Miss Trim came nervously back. “It’s rushing in now like anything! Oh, do get up! We may have to fly! The boards of the floor have been forced up, and they’ve had to take the door off its hinges—”

 

She stopped again. Mrs Ravenshaw, with placid face and closed eyes, had replied with another gentle “hush–sh!”

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