Ross heard him drag a chair to the window, to make it easier for him to clamber out.
Just at that instant, there came a cracking from the front of the house, the corner-post of the porch, to which the boat had been fastened less than five minutes before, fell with a crash and the front of the house crumbled. There was a moment's pause, and then the whole structure keeled over, away from the boat, and with a rending and cracking of timbers, broke from its foundation. Over and over it heeled, and it looked as though it would go to pieces. From the window overhead came a scream of terror.
Realizing that Anton could never save himself, if the house were collapsing, Ross leaped for the rope of linen that was hanging out of the window and went up it like a monkey.
The chair on which Anton had climbed, to get out of the window, had slid to the far end of the room and fallen on the sloping floor, the lower edge of which was now in the water, and the crippled lad was pinned down and unable to get out. The candle had been thrown down on the table and fire was beginning to lick some paper that had not slipped to the floor.
Ross dashed in, grabbed Anton by the arm, picked him up with the "firemen's carry" and staggered up the sloping floor to the window.
Had the boat suffered in the careening of the house?
The line, made of linen sheets, still was taut, and Ross, peering out of the window, saw to his great delight that the boat was still there with all its passengers safe, Rex, Lassie, and the puppies.
There, Before the Flood, Stood Anton's House.