“How long ago that does seem!” exclaimed Mildred.
“It does, indeed!” replied Oliver, glad to hear her say something distinctly. “When we said our prayers that night, and whenever we have said them since, we begged that we might be able to bear dying in this flood,—to bear whatever it pleased God to do. Now, our right way is to make up our minds at once to everything, and just in the way it pleases God. Let us try to bear it cheerfully, whether we lose the cow or anything else first; or whether we all die together. That is the way, Mildred!—And if you and I should not die together, that must be the way too.”
“I hope we shall though.”
“I think it is very likely; and that before long. And then how useless it will have been to be unhappy about anything we can lose here! People who may be so near to death need not be anxious about this and that, like those who seem to have long to live. So come, dear, and see this chest; and help us to settle what should be done with it.”
There was nothing about the outside of the chest to show whose it might be. Everybody agreed that it ought to be opened immediately, lest all that it contained should be spoiled by the wet. But how to open it was the question; for it had a very stout lock, and strong hinges. After many attempts, it was found that nothing short of proper tools would answer the purpose: and Oliver went to see if his could be reached. Through piles of rubbish, and a puddle of slimy water, he got to the spot where he had left them,—hidden behind straw, that the Redfurns might not discover and spoil them. The straw was washed away, and his beautiful lump of alabaster reduced to slime; but his tools were there,—in no very bright condition, but safe. He hastened away from the spot; for thoughts crowded upon his mind of the day when he had last used these tools, and the way of life in which he and Mildred had been so happy, and which seemed now to be over for ever. He thought of the beautiful stone carvings over the doorway, and of what Pastor Dendel had said to him about them. They had fallen; and who knew what had become of kind Pastor Dendel? The garden, with all its fresh green and gay blossoms, was now a muddy stream; rank smells and thick mists now came up from what had been meadows and corn-fields; and his father, whose manly voice had been daily heard singing from the mill, where was he? It would not do to stay thinking of these things; so Oliver hastened back with his tools, and with the heavy kitchen hammer, which he also found.
None of these would open the chest. The party managed it at last by heating a large nail, which they drew out from a shattered door-post, and burning holes in the wood of the chest, close by the nails which fastened the hinges, so as to loosen them, and make them drop out. The lid being raised, a great variety of articles was found within, so nicely packed that the wet had penetrated but a very little way. Mildred had looked on thoughtfully; and she saw that Oliver paused when the contents lay open to view. She looked in her brother’s face, and said—
“I wonder who this chest belonged to?”
“I was just thinking so,” observed Oliver.
“Never mind that,” said Ailwin. “We may know, some day or other, or we may not. Meantime, it is ours. Come, make haste, and see what there is to wrap up poor baby in, on cold nights.”
“We will look for something of that sort,—I am sure we might use such a thing as that,” said Oliver: “but...”