“Hoi! come down from there,” bawled the big, bluff fellow, as he came within hearing. “’Tain’t safe! I made all my people clear out last night, and ’spected to see it gone by mornin’. Oh, it’s you, Mister Brigley. Looking for your young gent?”
“Yes! Seen him?” cried Jerry wildly.
“Ay, bit ago, when I were down before. He’d come down to see if the mill was safe, I s’pose.”
“But—it was—our young gent?”
“I say, don’t look so scared,” cried the miller, good-humouredly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you; but I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if the old place comes toppling down; and it will, if the water rises much more. You’re safe enough here.”
“But, tell me,” panted Jerry, who did not want telling, “it was our young gent?”
“Ay, him as come fishing with the others, and sat out on the weir yonder, tootling on that little pipe of his? Here! what’s the matter with you, man?”
“A boat! a boat!” gasped Jerry.
“A boat! what for? Mine’s got a plank out of it, and, if it hadn’t, you couldn’t use it now.”
“But he’s gone down! I see him jump in!”