But Clifford lay for hours listening to the hoarse roar of wind, river, trees, and pelting rain; but finally he was lulled to sleep, though even in slumber he was weighed down and haunted by a sense of danger; and when the clock chimed the hour of twelve he arose, and stole down the stairs. As he reached the next to the last step his foot plashed in the water. He knew at once that the river was now out over all the wide valley, and had risen in a stealthy flow, invading the house, where it was at least two feet deep.
Watching the water by the light which he had returned and procured, he saw it was rising in an alarming manner; so he hastily dressed himself and went to the window, and opening the sash, which was all in one piece and hung on hinges, he looked out on the glaring, boiling flood below. As he stood thus, looking down on the terrible, raging whirlpool, he was rapidly revolving in his mind plans of escape from their perilous position; but every avenue of retreat seemed closed. As he cast his eyes about in despair, he started joyfully at the thought of the "Crows' Nest" up in the great elm—a place which could be reached by a flight of steps springing from the window ledge and leading far up into the forks of the tree.
Smiling at the fact that he had not thought of it before, he sprang up the stairs into the fanciful retreat, which Robbie in his boyish fancy had planned and built in the top of the lofty tree, and which, on warm, sultry days, had proved to be an aerial lounging-place as comfortable as it was novel. It was a stout platform about eight feet square, railed about, and provided with seats, hammocks, and even a rocking-chair. It was with a feeling of relief that Clifford stood on the floor of the lofty perch and glanced down at the glare of water.
Springing down the steps, which were also safely railed, he went to the mark which he had made on the wall and found the water had risen a full step, and, knowing there was no time to lose, he ran to the bed and awakened Robbie, telling him of the situation, and in a few minutes that resolute young chap was dressed and ready to lend a willing hand in the plan which Clifford unfolded.
Taking a wagon-cover from one of the stow-aways which flanked the room, and a piece of scantling from the same catch-all, the boys cut the ropes from the wagon-sheet, and after tying the scantling securely to the limbs above the platform, at a distance of six or seven feet overhead, they next drew the canvas, tent-fashion, over it, then brought the ends down in such a manner that the rain was excluded from the "Nest," and tacking the sheet to the floor and making a flap for the doorway, the interior was quite impervious to the rain, which still raged without.
Some blankets were next carried up and spread on the floor, and then two beds were made hastily, and the busy fellows did not omit the pillows and sheets; so the place wore a very cozy appearance. Then, when all was complete, they awakened their parents and Maud, telling them of the safe retreat into which they would be compelled to remove.
In a few moments they were all safely up in the "Nest," and then the provisions and a few valuables were carried thither, Rob cautioning them not to forget a jug of water. Then the boys went down to the hall stairway and found that the water lacked but two feet of reaching the upper floor.
Alarmed and in great suspense, Clifford stood watching the flood, and was relieved to see that the water crept more slowly up the stair; then Robbie, coming up, said that the rain was about over and the stars were twinkling through the rifts above.
As the boys gazed at the water; a faint wet line became visible on the wall just above the flood. Breathless with suspense, they watched until the band widened; then Clifford shouted in wild excitement, "Falling—falling!"
"She's falling, falling!" shrieked Rob as he flew up to the "Nest" with the joyful news.