“But they know Aunt Rachel. And I assure you they will hear about this matter in a way they won’t like. The Holloways especially. She’d better send that crazy woman packing back to the North.”
At that moment a shout arose from the front veranda. The girls, followed by Norma screaming in renewed fright, ran to the door. The water was still over the flooring of the veranda, but it had not advanced into the house.
The group of excited men on the porch were pointing off into the river. Out there it was very dark; but there was a light moving on the face of the troubled waters.
“A boat is coming!” explained somebody to the girls. “That’s a lantern in it. A boat from across the river.”
“Oh, no; a steamboat would not venture to-night—if at all. And there is none near by. It’s a bateau of some kind.”
“Bet it’s the old bateau from the cotton warehouse across there,” said another of the men. “Jimson is trying to reach us.”
“And what can he do when he gets here?” asked a third. “That burning house is bound to fall this way. Then we’ll have to fight fire for sure!”
“Well, Holloway has a bucket brigade all ready,” said the first speaker. “With all this water around, it’s too bad if we can’t put a fire out.”
The fire was illuminating all the vicinity now, for the flames had burst through the roof. The whole of one end of the cottage was in a blaze, and the wall of the hotel nearest to it was blistering in the heat.