“True; nevertheless, it’s as well to be prepared,” said Lambert, with a glance at Elsie and Cora, who sat together near the window; “and I’ve come to beg for house-room for my goods and chattels, for the old house is not so safe as I had thought.”
“There’s plenty of room in the barn for people in distress,” said Elsie, with a glance at her sister.
“Or in the cow-house,” added Cora, with a laugh and a slight toss of her head; “we’ve had the cattle removed on purpose to make room for you.”
“How considerate! And the cow-house of Willow Creek, with its pleasant associations, is a palace compared to the hall of any other mansion,” said the gallant Louis.
A crash was heard outside just then. On looking from the windows, a great cake of ice about five feet thick, with a point like a church spire, was seen attempting, as it were, to leap the lower end of the garden-fence. It failed; but on making a second attempt was more successful. The fence went slowly down, and the spire laid its head among the vegetables, or rather on the spot where the vegetables would have been had the season been propitious. It was accompanied by a rush of water.
The sight was viewed with comparative composure by old Mr Ravenshaw, but his better half took it less quietly, and declared that they would all be drowned.
“I hope not!” exclaimed Miss Trim fervently, clasping her hands.
“We’re high and dry just now, Louis,” said Mr Ravenshaw gravely, “but Willow Creek won’t be a place of refuge long if the rise goes on at this rate. See, my neighbour is beginning to show signs of uneasiness, though the ground on which he stands is not much lower than my own.”
As he spoke, the old fur-trader pointed to the house of Angus Macdonald, where a large cart was being loaded with his property.
Angus himself entered at the moment to beg leave to remove some of his valuables to his friend’s barn.