Chapter Eleven.
More Hardship.
This morning was unlike the mornings which Oliver had watched since the flood came. There was no glowing sky towards the east; and he saw that there would be no broad train of light over the waters, which should so dazzle his eyes as almost to prevent his seeing anything else. It was now a stormy-looking sunrise. Huge piles of clouds lay on the eastern horizon, through which it seemed impossible that the rays of the sun should pierce. The distant church-spire looked black amidst the grey flood: and the houses and chapel at Sandtoft, which now stood high out of the water, had a dark and dismal air. Oliver would have been rather glad to believe that there would be no sunshine this day, if he had not feared there would be storm. He had so learned, in these few days, to associate reeking fogs and putrid smells with hot sunshine, that a shady day would have been a relief: but it there should come a tempest, what could be done with the sick members of the party? It was dangerous to stand under the trees in a thunderstorm; and the poor tent would be soaked through with a quarter of an hour’s rain. He thought it would be best to take down the tent, and wrap up Mildred and Roger in the cloth; and to pile the mattresses, one upon another, at the foot of the thickest tree they could find; so that there might be a chance of one bed being left dry for poor Mildred.
While arranging this in his mind, Oliver had been anxiously looking abroad for any moving speck on the grey waters. Seeing none, but perceiving that the clouds were slowly mounting the sky, and moving onwards, he felt that he ought to be going to the hill, to make such preparations as were possible before the first raindrops should fall. Slowly and sadly he turned away to do so, when, casting one more glance eastwards, he perceived something moving—a dark speck, leaving the ruined roof of a dwelling which stood about half-way between himself and the hamlet.
There could be no doubt that this speck was a boat; and as it came nearer, Oliver saw that it was—a large boat, but quite full. He could distinguish no figures in it, so heavy seemed the mass of people, or of goods, with which it was crowded. It came on and on, however; and Oliver’s heart beat faster as it came. How he wished now that he had kept a flag flying from the spot on which he stood! How he wished he now had a signal to fix on this height! Though the boat-people were still too far off to distinguish figures, a signal might catch their eye. If he went to the Red-hill for a flag, the boat might be gone away before his return. Trembling with haste, he stripped off his shirt, and swung it in the air. He even mounted the top stone, which, surrounded by no wall, or other defence, hung over the waters below. Oliver would have said, half an hour before, that he could not have stood alone on this perilous point: now, he not only stood there, but waved his white signal with all his strength.
Did anybody notice it?
He once thought he saw what might have been an oar lifted in the air; but he was not sure. He was presently only too certain of something else—that the boat was moving away, not in the direction in which it had approached, but southwards. He tried, as long as he could, to disbelieve this; but there it went—away—away—and Oliver had to come down from his stone, put on his clothes again, and find how thirsty he was.
There was hope still, he felt—great hope: but he must keep it from Mildred, who was in no condition to bear the disappointment of such a hope. He doubted whether Ailwin could control her tongue and her countenance, while possessed of such news. It would be hard not to be able to tell any one of what so filled his thoughts; and he resolved to see first what state Roger was in.
When he reached the tent, Roger was not there. Ailwin could not tell where he was. He had staggered away, like a drunken person, she said—he seemed so giddy; but she could not leave Mildred to see after him, though he had spoken to a lord; if indeed that could be true of a boy like him. Ailwin looked up at the clouds, every moment, as she spoke; and Mildred shivered, as if she missed the morning sunshine. Oliver saw that he must make ready for the storm, before he prepared for what might follow. He and Ailwin pulled down the long piece of cloth from its support, doubled it again and again, and put Mildred into the middle of it. Oliver longed to lay her under a leafy tree; but he dared not, on account of the lightning, which was already beginning to flash. He and Ailwin set up the deal table as a sort of penthouse over her; and then busied themselves, in her sight, in piling together everything else they had, to keep as many articles as possible from spoiling.
Oliver was just thinking that he might slip away to seek Roger, when he saw that Mildred was sobbing, under the heap of cloth they had laid upon her. In a moment he was by her side, saying—