Ailwin had no doubt she could row, in such a narrow and gentle stream as now ran through the garden.
She made the trial first when Oliver was on board, and several other times with Mildred, succeeding always very well. Oliver was extremely glad of this; for the bridge-basket had been used so much, and sometimes for such heavy weights, that it was wearing out, and might break down at any moment. The bridge-rope, too, being the stoutest cord they had, was very useful for tying the raft to the trunk of the beech, so that it could not be carried away. When once this rope was well fastened, Oliver was content to rest himself on the grass beside Geordie, and let the strong Ailwin and little Mildred work as they wished. It surprised him, well as he knew Ailwin, to see the loads she could carry, bringing a good-sized mattress up the bank as easily as he could have carried a pillow. She wrung the wet out of the long piece of home-spun, and spread it out in the sun, to dry as much as it could before dark, and seemed to think no more of it than Mildred did of washing her doll’s petticoat.
Mildred took charge of the lighter articles that required care—her mother’s china, for one thing; for it was found that nothing made of earthenware remained unbroken in the lower rooms. There were some pewter plates, which were now lodged under the beech, together with pots and pans, knives and forks, and horn spoons. There was no table light enough to be moved, but a small one of deal, which Ailwin dragged out from under water, with all its legs broken: but enough of it remained entire to make it preferable to the bare ground for preparing their food on, when once it should be dry. There was a stool a-piece—not forgetting one for Roger; and Mildred took care that Geordie should have his own little chair. Not even Ailwin could carry a chest of drawers: but she carried down the separate drawers, with the clothes of the family in them. No one of the household had ever seen a carpet; but there was matting on some of the floors. Ailwin pulled up pieces of this, to be some protection against the damp and insects of the ground.
“It is as wet as water now,” said she; “but we must not quarrel with anything to-day on that account; and matting will dry on the hill better than at home. If it turns out rotten, we must try and spare a piece of the cloth from overhead, to lay underfoot: but George will feel it more like home, if he has a bit of matting to trip his little foot against.”
So down-stairs went a great bundle of wet matting.
“Will not that do for to-night?” asked Oliver, languidly, as he saw Ailwin preparing to put off again, when the sun was just touching the western hills. “You know we have to put up the tent, and get something to eat before we can go to sleep; and it has been such a long, long day!”
“As you please,” said Ailwin; “but you said the house would be down in the night; and there are many things yet that we should be sorry to have to do without.”
“Never mind them:—let them go, I am sure we all want to be asleep more than anything else.”
“Sleep, indeed! Do you suppose I shall sleep with that boy hid among the trees? Not I, you may rely upon it. Those may that can: and I will watch.”
No one had yet mentioned Roger, though all felt that his presence was a terrible drawback to the comfort of their establishment on the hill, which might otherwise be, in fine weather, a tolerably pleasant one. It made Oliver indignant to think that a stout lad, whom they had wished to make welcome to all they had, in their common adversity, should be skulking in the wood as an enemy, instead of helping them in their labours, under circumstances in which all should be friends. This thought made Oliver so angry that he did not choose to speak of Roger. When Ailwin offered to seek him out, and do her best to tie his limbs again, and carry him away to any place the children chose, Oliver begged her to say no more about it; and observed that they had better forget Roger altogether, if they could, unless he should come to make peace.