The men carried lanterns, and the little specks of light were all that could be seen through the darkness.
Mrs. Burns had refused to leave her home.
"I will stay as long as I can," she told Uncle Daniel. "I have lived here many a year, and that dam has not broken yet, so I'm not going to give up hope now!"
"But you could hardly get out in time should it break," insisted Uncle Daniel, "and you know we have plenty of room and you are welcome with us."
Still she insisted on staying, and each hour when the watchman would call from the pond bank, just like they used to do in old war-times: "Two o'clock-and—all is—well!" Mrs. Burns would look up and say, "Dear Lord, I thank Thee!"
Peter, of course, was out with the men. He could not move his barns and chicken house, but he had taken his cow and horse to places of safety.
There were other families along the road in danger as well as the Burnses, but they were not so near the dam, and would get some warning to escape before the flood could reach them should the dam burst.
How the water roared! And how awfully dark it was! Would morning ever come?
"Four o'clock—the water rises!" shouted the men from the bank.
"Here, Mary!" called Peter Burns at the door of their little home, "you put your shawl on and run up the road as fast as you can! Don't wait to take anything, but go!"