Mr. Brady figuratively leapt at the proposal, so did Mr. Jones and Sir Capel; Angel was obliged to join as hostess, and brought out cards and counters, but they only played for half anna—i.e., half-penny—points, and by ten o'clock the lights had been extinguished, the company had dispersed, led by Mrs. Waldershare—vingt-et-un at half-penny points! The game was a waste of time, and in no sense worth the candle.
The windows of heaven had opened; there had been torrents of rain during the night, now subsided to a thick penetrating mist; but there was a sort of tension in the atmosphere, as if in preparation or expectation of some awful revelation of nature. The general and Mrs. Waldershare, in spite of the former's furious remonstrances, and her pathetic appeals, had been driven out of their temporary shelter; she, to share Angel's quarters, and he, to grumble in a leaky tent.
"Gascoigne was incompetent, grossly ignorant, and pig-headed." These were a few of General Bothwell's growls. He had arrived on the scene, as special, uninvited correspondent, and hoped to make a good deal of fun and some money out of the affair. Indeed he had already drafted a terrible indictment of the engineer officer in charge. The thought of this deadly document afforded him warm comfort, when he was face to face with Gascoigne's cold iron will, which refused to relax one inch of authority.
General Bothwell scoffed at all precautions, he was a severely trying guest. His jibes, suggestions, and opinions, were as maddening as the stings of a swarm of hornets to a man whose hands are tied.
About midday, a telegram from the station was sent all down the line "Clear, lake overtopped." Telegrams now came incessantly to the inspection house, only a mile below the station, and everyone was aware that the great event was imminent. At two o'clock in the afternoon the wire said, "Dam cutting back rapidly." At five o'clock, "A heavy rush of water has passed over dam. Lake has fallen twenty feet." Half-an-hour later, "Lake has fallen thirty feet." So far all seemed to be going well. The flood was passing away slowly, but steadily; at this rate, it would keep to the bed of the river, and not rise more than twenty feet, and if the dam was not further breached there would be no great flood! General Bothwell was boisterously jubilant, most disagreeably triumphant, the long prepared for affair had ended in smoke after all; nothing could be seen with the heavy rain and mist, but the lake had commenced falling, and there was no Niagara—no catastrophe.
At seven o'clock the company, clad in mackintoshes, flocked in to dinner; only two were absent, Mr. Brady and Mr. Hichens.
Lola, who had been lying on Angel's bed reading a novel, appeared yawning, with somewhat dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes.
"So the great affair has fizzled out," she remarked, "and the mist is so dense nothing can be seen. How boring!"
The general appeared a little later. He had dropped a rupee in his tent, and could not find it. He was singularly fond of money—if it had been a copper coin he would have kept the company waiting all the same.