But she soon roused herself, when across the water sounded a shrill boyish voice, which shouted—"I'll bring you over, Mansy. I'm coming for you. Look out!"
"Bless the boy! that's my Master Alfy. Whatever is he up to now?"
And the good woman strained her eyes in the direction of the house to see what her favourite boy was doing.
She heard numerous childish exclamations, shouts, and laughter, and noises as of something knocking against the walls of the house. Then a splash!
"Whatever is that boy doing?" cried Mansy. "Don't you get drownded!" she screamed. "Do take care, Master Alfy! I'd rather stay here all night than you should come to harm!"
"All right, Mansy dear," shouted the shrill voice of the boy. "I'm coming, safe and sound, Mansy."
"Now, what is he a-comin' in?" cried the good woman, gazing into the dusk. She saw the dim outline of something which soon she recognised.
"Why, bless the boy! he's in the big washing tub! My! and how clever he do manage it!"
Mansy was quite right. The plucky little lad had hit on this expedient of ferrying the old nurse and housekeeper over the flood to the house! He had obtained two large kitchen ladles, and with these he was propelling and guiding the unwieldy round tub, which bobbed about provokingly on the turbid water, and made but little progress. It would have been still less, perhaps, but for the fact that the water flowed from the direction of the house past the old nurse.
But the difficulty the boy had soon to encounter was to guide the tub to her, for it was in great danger of being carried past. The house stood in a small valley or depression of ground, which rose to the lane up which Mansy had been walking. She was now standing on the verge of the water, which appeared to surround the house entirely, and completely obliterated the lawn and garden, except for the trees and shrubs, and the boundary hedge which stood above the turbid flood.