diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-07 15:31:02 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-07 15:31:02 -0800 |
| commit | d1252ead25369921577aedabf73f852523e1beb6 (patch) | |
| tree | c4c199ba0052d4aac1c327dc8023ea018d9c3fbc | |
| parent | 7c30ed6522d729e78a02c390f8c07e4f837e338a (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55506-8.txt | 3808 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55506-8.zip | bin | 72873 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55506-h.zip | bin | 264661 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55506-h/55506-h.htm | 3919 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55506-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 48552 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55506-h/images/front.jpg | bin | 78477 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55506-h/images/nurse.jpg | bin | 63212 -> 0 bytes |
10 files changed, 17 insertions, 7727 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f5939b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55506 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55506) diff --git a/old/55506-8.txt b/old/55506-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4eee014..0000000 --- a/old/55506-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3808 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water-Finders, by Unknown - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Water-Finders - -Author: Unknown - -Release Date: September 8, 2017 [EBook #55506] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-FINDERS *** - - - - -Produced by Jeff Hunt - - - - - -[Transcriber's Note: The author is not named and has -not been located elsewhere. Dialect spelling is copied -faithfully.] - -THE WATER-FINDERS - -[Frontispiece: Three men hung over the bridge.] - - -THE WATER-FINDERS BY THE AUTHOR OF "TWO OF A TRADE" - -LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK THOMAS NELSON AND SONS - - CONTENTS. - --- - I. Willowton in Trouble - II. The Chapman Family - III. The Dowser - IV. The Search for Water - V. Old Jimmy's Scruples - VI. Public Opinion on the Bridge - VII. Tom Chapman "Takes on" at the Well - VIII. A Neighbourly Action - IX Nurse Blunt Arrives - X. Another Fever Victim - XI. The Strike at the Well - XII. Back to the Work - XIII. Rain at Last - XIV. The Collapse - XV. Friends in Need - XVI An Anxious Sunday - XVII Geo to the Fore Again - XVIII The Rescue - XIX Geo again Surprises Himself and his Friends - XX Conclusion - - -THE WATER-FINDERS - ----- - -CHAPTER I. - -WILLOWTON IS IN TROUBLE - -Willowton is a village of some seventeen thousand population, -large enough for the inhabitants to talk of "going up the town" -when they mean the broad main street which stands on a gentle -slope leading from the railway station to the church. This -street, which is paved at the sides with nice old-world, -ankle-twisting cobbles, boasts of two drapers', a chemist's, a -saddler's, grocer's, and bootmaker's shops. Away in the less -aristocratic parts of the village are the butchers and bakers, -and the miscellaneous stores so dear to the country housewives. -About the middle of the town, in the very widest part, is the -bridge, and close to the bridge itself is the Wild Swan -public-house, or rather _hotel_, as it calls itself. The little -stream that runs under the bridge comes along through miles of -cool meadows, now golden with buttercups, for it is May. It comes -through many gardens and orchards, now white with apple blossom; -and when it leaves the bridge it burrows underground for some -little distance, and reappears at the foot of the cottage -gardens, to lose itself in pleasant meandering through more -flowery meadows, till it passes out of the ken of Heigham folks, -and out of our story's picture. - -It was noon, and the sun was hot and the stream was low. There -had been no rain for several weeks. The March winds had blown the -seeds about; the wheat even drooped in the fields; April had -refused her usual showers, and there was a dry, parched look -everywhere while yet it was only May. Three men hung over the -bridge, lazily resting their elbows on the parapet, and looking -down into the water below at a large trout that was lying under a -stone, waiting his opportunity to make his way further upstream -to a deeper pool under the garden bank. Of these three "loafers," -as the neighbours called them, one was a strong, well-built young -man of one or two-and-twenty. His flushed face betrayed the fact -that he had already visited the Wild Swan over the way; his great -strong limbs were loosely knit; his big hands showed little signs -of work; his lazy blue eyes looked as if they had never done -anything more harmful or more useful than watch for trout. - -His companions were of a different type. One was a discontented, -surly-looking man of perhaps sixty years of age. He was reported -to have been a great traveller. He certainly had been to -America, to Australia, and to various ports in Europe, in his -position as stoker on a merchant vessel; and he had seen a good -deal of the seamy side of life, but not so much as he wished his -listeners to believe, and was as bad a companion for a young -fellow like George Lummis as could well be. The third man was a -cripple. He came out daily on his crutches, and took up his -position in the angle of the stone support, which stood out from -the bridge a foot of so on to the road. He had a mild, weak face, -in which a life's physical suffering was plainly to be read. He -had never been of any use to anybody so far, and as far as his -acquaintances knew, he had never had any desire to be so. The -strongest feeling he possessed was an intense affection and -admiration for the great, hulking, lazy six feet of humanity -beside him. - -The three men were in their own way discussing the general -prosperity of the village, and abusing the district council, the -parson, the doctor, the farmers, and, indeed, everybody who was -at all better off or of more consequence than themselves. They -were not speaking with any particular virulence, nor were they -arguing their points with any warmth; they were only repeating a -sort of formula they went through periodically whenever the -occasion cropped up. They each knew exactly what the other would -say. They had all three heard it so very many times before, and -they had their answers all cut and dried, and ready for immediate -use. The only variety was that sometimes they began with the -parson and ended with the doctor, and sometimes they began with -the doctor and ended with the parson. It was all chance, just -whichever happened to go over the bridge first. - -"There he goo!" they would ejaculate, often loud enough for the -object of their remarks to hear, "a-drivin' in 'is carriage with -a 'orse and liv'ry sarvent, all paid for out o' our club money, -that's how that is. And what does he do for it, I should like yew -jest te tell me?" etc., etc., etc., _ad lib_. - -This, of course, if the passer-by happened to be the doctor; if, -on the other hand, it was he vicar, it would be,--- - -"There goo th' parson, pore, hard-workin' chap! Two hundred and -fifty pound a year for preachin' t' us of a Sunday--an' a lot o' -good that dew us! I'd just like to have him aboard our ship for a -fortnight. I'd teach him t' interfere, with his imperence." - -It was the "traveller" who generally originated these remarks. -The cripple always made a point of assenting; he wished to be -agreeable, for the traveller was open-handed as well as -long-tongued, and a quid of tobacco often found its way into the -cripple's pocket after a prolonged debate, in which he took so -prominent and important a part. - -On these occasions George Lummis seldom did more than laugh a -short laugh, when he thought it incumbent on him to do so, or -even lift a faint protest when his sense of justice smote him -(for he _had_ some sense of justice); and it was not so very many -years ago that he was a schoolboy, and if he chose to exert his -memory he could have told of many kindnesses he had received fro -the late vicar and his family, and from that very doctor whom he -allowed to be abused so roundly, who had pulled him through a bad -attack of typhoid fever when he was a boy of sixteen. "And to -very little purpose," the doctor would say to himself sometimes -as he drove over the bridge and saw him loafing away the best -years of his life with his good-for-nothing companions. "For his -own sake I had almost better have let him die." - -On this particular morning it was the vicar who passed first. He -walked slowly and heavily, for he was carrying a weight. The -perspiration stood in beads on his forehead, and his straw hat -had got pushed back from his brow, so that the full blaze of the -sun beat down on his forehead, from which the hair was beginning -to recede--"slipping back" he would explain laughingly, "not -falling off, forsooth!" His burden, which was in reality a big -well-grown boy of fourteen, in the first stage of fever, was -wrapped in a big, not overclean-looking blanket, and in his -weakness he was unable to assist his bearer to carry him, and, -indeed, with the best of intentions, was almost as dead a weight -as if he had been in a faint. - -As the vicar passed over the bridge he kept his eyes fixed -straight in front of him. Neither by look nor by gesture did he -ask the loungers there to help him, and no one offered to lend a -hand. His strength, great as it was, was almost spent when he -reached the hospital and gave over his patient to the doctor's -charge, and he sat down with a sigh of relief on the wooden -settle in the hall. It was cool and fresh in here, almost cold -coming out of the dust and the sun. He wiped his brow with his -handkerchief; the portress brought him a glass of water. - -"Too hot yet, Mrs. Smith," he said. "I'll wait till I've cooled -down; but I'm as thirsty as a fish!" - -"And no wonder!" said the matron tartly, but not without a note -of admiration in her tones; "I never heard such nonsense. Why -couldn't the boy be brought in the ambulance like anybody else, I -should like to know, without you having to carry him as if he was -a baby! I haven't any patience with those Chapmans, that I -haven't!" - -"Well, nor have I--much," said the vicar reflectively. "That -woman is the dirtiest of the whole row. It would be hard to beat -her in the parish; but there is something about her--I don't know -what it is. She never tells me lies or makes excuses; she never -begs, and never complains of other people's good fortune, and is -always good-tempered--bother her! She would be so much easier to -influence if she had a spice of temper, wouldn't she--eh, Mrs. -Smith?" with a twinkle in his big brown eyes; for Mrs. Smith had -the defects of her qualities, and possessed the hasty temper that -goes so often with a warm heart. "But I must be off. Let Tommy -know that I'll call in and see him some time in the afternoon, -and hope I shall find him in clover. No, I won't wait for the -doctor; I know pretty well what he'll say. I'll be off," and the -vicar tossed off his glass of water, put on his hat, this time -well tilted over his eyes, and strode down the hill for the -second time that morning. - -His return road lay through the buttercup meadows and over the -stream by a little foot-bridge into the village. He passed a long -row of well-to-do, prosperous-looking cottages, with bright -little gardens in front of them, and the running stream behind -them. At the gate of one of these a young girl was standing -shading her eyes from the sun. She made a pretty picture in her -big shady hat and print blouse, short skirt, blue linen apron, -her sleeves rolled up, showing a pair of nice plump arms; for -Milly was washing to-day, and was not ashamed to be seen at it. - -She had a paper in her hand, and was watching for the vicar. -Overhead the lilacs and laburnums were fading in the drought, and -the few flowers that had come to maturity were dying off before -their time. So intent was the vicar on his own thoughts that he -was striding past without seeing her. - -"A letter, sir!" she cried out, holding it out to him over the -palings. - -"Oh!" Mr. Rutland took it and broke the seal. - -It was a summons to attend a committee meeting of the sanitary -board, now sitting at the Union--an informal meeting hastily -convened owing to the pressing state of affairs, and to the -somewhat unexpected reappearance of the sanitary inspector. - -"Where's your grandfather?" he asked, folding the paper and -putting it in his pocket. - -"He's gone to toll again. Young Flower is dead." - -The vicar made a gesture of dismay. - -"You don't say so! I was with him most of the night. I hoped he -was going to pull through. Ah, well!" But turning to Milly again, -"Tell Jimmy when he comes in to let my housekeeper know I shan't -be back," taking out his watch, "much before two o'clock, and -I'll get some bread and cheese at the Union. She needn't think -about me. Good-morning," and he went on with a nod. - -"Good-morning, sir," said Milly demurely, and with a pretty -little inclination of her head. Milly was too old to curtsy now, -though the school children at Willowton, as indeed all the -villages in East Anglia, still keep up the pretty custom of the -old-world curtsey. Milly was nearly seventeen, and kept house for -her old grandfather, who was parish sexton, clerk, or verger, or -all three, just as it pleased him to call himself. - - - -CHAPTER II. - -THE CHAPMAN FAMILY. - -The Chapmans were a large family, and every year a new little -Chapman appeared upon the scene; consequently every year there -was a new mouth to feed, and wages, of course, remained much the -same. Tom Chapman had married his wife (a girl working in a jam -factory in a neighbouring town) when he was nineteen and she was -only seventeen. They had muddled along ever since. Tom was as -hard-working as most of his acquaintances, which is perhaps not -saying much, for they had a rooted objection to what they called -a "wet jacket," and seldom worked hard enough to get -uncomfortably hot; but still he was an honest, well-meaning man, -and if he had a strong feelings on the subject of working over -hours on special occasions, and saw no particular reason why he -should put himself out to benefit his masters, why, as I said -before, he was not in that respect different from his friends. - -Poor Annie, his wife, was a patient, hard-working, ignorant -woman. She had once been pretty, but many children and growing -poverty had made her at the age of seven-and-twenty look like -most women of forty. She was worn and thin, and was untidy; she -was unrefined in her ways and uncouth in her speech; she was -badly educated, having been idle at school, and forgotten what -little her teachers managed to knock into her unwilling head; but -for all this she managed to retain her husband's affection, and -to keep him from the public-house. The vicar, who was a bachelor -himself, often wondered why Tom Chapman was one of the steadiest -young men in the parish, and why he always spent his evenings at -home with "such a wife" as he had, and in such a pigsty of a -house; for I grieve to say cleanliness in her household was far -from being a virtue of Mrs. Chapman's. The house stood at the -bottom of Gravel-pit Lane, and was the first of a row of cottages -that crept up the steep little hill that led away from the -vicarage into the buttercup meadows. The stream did not come -anywhere near Gravel-pit Lane, and the water supply was never -very good--one well having to serve eight or ten cottages with -water; and this year, owing to the unprecedented dryness of the -spring, the well was nearly empty. Small wonder, then, that the -little Chapmans were even less well washed than usual, and that -their dirty pinafores were an ever-increasing source of annoyance -to the schoolmistress. - -It was from this house that the vicar had carried off the patient -for the little fever hospital on the side hill above the village. -This fever hospital was a pet scheme of his and the doctor's. All -through the dry spring they had been prophesying trouble, and had -made themselves unpopular in consequence. Now, popularity is a -very pleasant thing, and a very useful thing; but there are -things better than popularity. Popularity is a fickle, faithless -jade. She comes often unbidden and unsought, and sits down by a -man's side, and while she is there he may do what he likes. He -may scold people for not giving enough in church, he may forget -to answer invitations, he may even lose his temper, and say all -sorts of things he doesn't mean; but once Madam Popularity has -left him, or even shown any signs of approaching departure, this -same man may no longer ask your assistance in his charities. He -may never offer you advice, or criticise your actions; he may -scarcely even presume to wish you good-morning, and when he comes -to see you, you imagine he comes to pry into your private -affairs. If he gives your boy a penny for opening a gate for him, -you are certain he is "up to suffin'," and the luckless penny is -nothing but bribery and corruption; in short, all that was right -and commendable before is wrong and reprehensible now. - -It was this that had happened to the vicar of Willowton, and -strangely enough, everybody knew it but the vicar! He was far too -busy attending to his duties and succouring his people, body and -soul, to feel any changes of temperature; and if he had, I will -not exactly say that he would not have cared (for, of course, he -would; he would not have been human if he had not), but it would -have made no difference; he would have persevered in his course -just the same. He was, he would have said, "about his Master's -work," and it would never have occurred to him to alter his ways -once he had made up his mind he was right. - -The reason of his unpopularity was not difficult to determine--he -had been preaching a crusade against dirt and unthriftiness. He -had foretold in forcible language, from the pulpit as well as -elsewhere, the coming epidemic, which the sanitary commissioner -had declared inevitable, with the village in such a shocking -state of insanitariness. The inspector called the houses -"unsanitary," the vicar called them "dirty"--that was the -difference. There was a very great difference between the sound -of these two swords, and the vicar made the fatal mistake of -using the wrong one. It was a pity, but the vicar was very -outspoken, very impetuous, very straightforward. He had said so -many times before, and nobody had ever even dreamt of taking -offence. They knew it was true, and they were so used to it that -they never thought of objecting to hearing the truth blurted out -in his good-humoured, friendly manner--never till Corkam came -back after his thirty-five years of "foreign travel." - -"How you do truckle to that chap!" he would say to the men who -touched their hats respectfully to him as he passed. "You think, -he was cap'en on a wessel at least, and bos'un tight and -midshipmite inter ther bargain. Blessed if I are goin' ter knock -under to the parson, or a whole cargo o' parsons! that I won't; -so there!" and Corkam would lean his elbows on the parapet of the -bridge behind him, and stand with an impudent sneer on his -coarse, flabby lips at the unsuspecting vicar as he passed. - -Corkam had "no manners," he thought; "but one mustn't judge too -much by appearances, and probably," he would tell himself, if -Corkham's rudeness was more than usually aggressive, "he was much -better than he looked." For the vicar's creed was of the -thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians order--of the kind that -believeth all things, and hopeth all things; and after all there -is nothing like hope in the world. It is so perennial, if you are -disappointed in your hopes about one thing, you can always go on -hoping about another. And the vicar was very happy in his hopes, -though they were often doomed to disappointment. He had good -health, good spirits, and a good conscience, and he scarcely knew -what it was to have a headache or endure a sleepless night. Truly -"a man to be envied," his friend the doctor said, "and there are -not many like him!" - -The vicarage was a small house--a great many gables and very -small rooms, all except the hall, which was a large, low-roofed, -roomy apartment, with black oak beams supporting the uneven -white-washed ceiling. A great gilt-faced grandfather's clock -stood in one corner on the right-hand side of the fireplace, -which was one of those delightful Queen Anne, urn-shaped grates, -with high hobs on either side, on which the vicar's housekeeper -kept her master's coffee, or soup, or cocoa, as the case might -be, warm when he failed to come in for his meals, which was no -uncommon occurrence, especially since the outbreak of the fever, -when, as the long-suffering woman constantly complained, "he -don't never show his face till the meat is cooked to a cinder, or -the water for his tea has boiled itself flat." - -The vicarage garden ran down to the churchyard on one side, and -was bordered on the other by the ubiquitous little stream that -wound itself in and out through the village like a shining -ribbon. The flowers in the vicar's garden were mostly quaint, -old-fashioned things. He knew nothing about flowers himself, but -his housekeeper did, and he had the advantage of succeeding a man -who had a passion for gardening, and who had stocked the place -with bulbs, innumerable tulips, daffodils, crocuses, snowdrops, -and aconites, and little old-world hepatica and grape hyacinths. -While against the high brick wall, now mellowed with time, were -old single pink peonies, great yellow tiger lilies, and mulleins, -just coming out over the porch the blue wisteria did her best to -flower, but perished in the attempt; while the tropeolum, and -other creeping things that Mrs. Crowe had grown so successfully -every year against the trellis, died off before they began to -climb. It was as if the fever had touched them too, poor things; -though Mrs. Crowe did surreptitiously fill her watering-pot at -the stream and water them ever evening when the vicar was out of -the way; for that gentleman was a very dragon over the water, and -the stream, as I said before, was getting daily lower and lower, -and water scarcer and scarcer. - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE DOWSER. - -The meeting at the Union, mentioned in the first chapter, was -stormy, but it resulted in victory. The sudden summoning of the -principal people in the parish was occasioned by the appearance -of a "water-finder." This the chairman, a gentleman farmer of -some local importance, well known in the hunting field, proceeded -to explain in a disjointed, halting, and somewhat unconvincing -manner. It was evident that he was half ashamed of yielding to -what he knew most of his hearers would term foolish superstition, -and others would fear as savouring of witchcraft and other -forbidden things. - -The meeting was an open one, concerning as it did, all the -parish; and among others our three "loafers" of the bridge had -strolled in, and sitting down on a back seat prepared to hear -what was going to be said. They had come in from very different -motives, and kept together from force of habit. The cripple had -come because he wisely never omitted to attend anything that -would afford him entertainment and change from the dull monotony -of his days; the ex-seaman came, as usual, in the spirit of -opposition, with the full determination of opposing whatever -decision the authorities should come to; and George accompanied -them merely because they asked him. - -Mr. Rutland, who was late, as we know, slipped in quietly, and -took a seat on a bench which was placed along the side of the -room. The water-finder had just stepped on to the platform, and -with a little nervous cough was beginning to explain his mission. -He was a slight, spare man, of perhaps thirty years of age, with -an extraordinarily sensitive face--the sort of look one sees -sometimes in a great musician or dreamer--his hair fairish, -inclined to red, and his complexion that which goes with such -hair. There was nothing else remarkable about him but his hands, -which were delicately formed, yet strong and nervous. His voice -was low and pleasant, but he spoke with some hesitation, and had -not the air of confidence that accompanies the necromancer or -conjurer. - -The vicar's keen eye took in all this at a glance, and he -involuntarily turned to the audience to see how they took him. -His eye fell on the three men on the bench at right angles with -him. He saw Corkam arrange his face in the supercilious sneer he -knew so well. He saw Farley dart a look at him to get his "cue," -and then twist his own poor, pinched features into the best -imitation of his "friend's" that he could accomplish. The effect -was so completely artificial that the vicar could not restrain a -smile of amusement. George's fair, good-natured face expressed -absolutely nothing. - -The water-finder's words were very simple. He protested nothing, -and promised nothing. He had discovered a few years ago, he said, -that he had the gift of finding water in unexpected places. His -powers were not infallible, he explained, but were dependent on -many things, the nature of which he was unable to determine. -Possibly it was the condition of the atmosphere, possibly the -state of his own health, possibly the influence of want of faith -in the people who accompanied him on his quest--he was unable to -account for it--but certainly there were times when he had -failed. - -At this point his audience shuffled impatiently with their feet, -and sundry little grunts and groans were heard, and the short -artificial laugh of Farley was plainly distinguishable. The -water-finder ran his mild, dreamy eyes along the benches, passed -without interest over Farley and Corkam, and rested for a moment -on Geo. - -He had heard, he said, of the dreadful pass that Heigham was -likely to come to for want of water, and being in the -neighbourhood on a visit to some relations, had called on Mr. -Barlow and offered his services. It was for this meeting, he -understood, to reject or accept them. He had nothing more to say. - -Mr. Barlow then rose and proposed a show of hands. This was the -signal for a general uproar, and perhaps a dozen or so hands were -lifted. The water-finder looked disappointed, the chairman angry, -and rough words were shouted from the audience. - -"We don't want no palaverin', conjurin' chaps here," shouted -some. "Down with the sin of witchcraft!" shouted another. "Duck -'im in a 'orse pond, same as they did time agone," shouted the -village wag. "My, I'll make 'im swim!" - -At this juncture the vicar walked up the room, and by a sign from -the chairman stepped on to the platform. - -"We don't want no parsons neither," shouted a ne'er-do-well, who -had had a drop on his way; but the parson, if he had lost his -popularity, had not lost his power of engaging attention. The -chairman rang his bell to secure silence, and a voice from the -back of the room shouted "Hear, hear!" - -"It seems to me," said the vicar, "that all we want is water. It -is with the hope of finding a solution to our terrible difficulty -that we are met here to-day. Everything, as you all know, that -ordinary science and knowledge can show us has been exhausted, -and with no result. We are in desperate case. We 'must have -water, or we die.' It is true that our stream still runs, and -some of our wells yield water; but it is polluted, and breeds -fever in those who drink it. But all this is well known; it is -idle to recapitulate it. I take it that all we have to decide is -whether we accept Mr. Wilman's offer or not. I think there can -be no doubt about it. 'The drowning man catches at a straw.' (Mr. -Wilman will forgive the allusion.) I trust he is no straw; but, -humanly speaking, we are undoubtedly 'drowning men.' It seems to -me there is no 'conjuring' or 'witchcraft' about his thing. God -has given us all certain powers--'divers gifts' as the Bible has -it--and just because we do not understand or cannot explain this -reputed gift of water-finding, why reject the possibility of it -in our hour of need? Let us give Mr. Wilman a fair trial; let -him do his best, and if he fails, well, we are in no worse plight -that we were before." - -The vicar stepped down amid dead silence; his words had not had -time to sink in. The chairman rose. - -"Gentlemen," he said, "my mind is made up. Mr Wilman has free -leave to come over my land and find us water where he can. I -can't let ignorance or blind prejudice stand in his way. I -completely endorse all the vicar's words." - -"And I too," and a burly Nonconformist tradesman stepped up; "and -I'll give you twenty pounds towards the expenses of sinking the -well." - -Ten minutes after this sixty pounds had been subscribed by the -influential people present. The meeting was broken up, and the -water-finder was casting his eye once more over the audience to -select his companions in the quest. - -"Mr. Barlow will come with me, and I should be glad if you would -too, sir," he said to the vicar, who was making his way out. - -"I only wish I could," he replied heartily--"it would give me the -greatest pleasure; but I have got to take two funerals this -afternoon, and I must run home and get something to eat first. -Many thanks, all the same, and I need scarcely say how anxiously -I shall look for the result of your trial." - -He hurried off as he spoke, and Mr. Barlow and the water-finder -walked slowly up the street behind him, and disappeared into the -former's house. - -An hour later they emerged and walked up the street. - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -THE SEARCH FOR WATER - -It will readily be imagined that the "dowser," as he called -himself, was not allowed to go on his quest accompanied only by -Mr. Barlow. He was followed, as was only natural, at a fairly -respectable distance, by by a selection of all the idle boys and -girls in Willowton, and for once Geo Lummis had deserted his -friends on the bridge, and followed the little crowd leisurely in -the rear, with his hands in his pockets, and his hat tilted at -the back of his head. - -The water-finder carried in his hand a freshly-cut hazel rod, -which he had brought from Mr. Barlow's garden. It was about two -feet long, and forked at one end. He held it, point downwards, -straight in front of him, with a "prong" in each hand, and he -walked at a fair pace, his eyes fixed on the rod, and preserving -a dead silence. - -As he went the little procession followed him up the main street -over the bridge nearly as far as Gravel-pit Lane. Here the -lookers-on noticed the hazel twig jerk outwards unmistakably. Mr. -Barlow, who was walking abreast of him, sent an inquiring glance -at him. - -"Only drain water," said the dowser laconically, without -slackening his pace. - -A few more steps brought him to the bottom of Gravel-pit Lane, -and Annie Chapman, with a tribe of dirty, bright-eyed children -clinging to her bedraggled skirts, came out to see the fun. The -sun had gone in, and a sort of thick heat-mist pervaded -everything. It was the sort of afternoon that during any other -summer than that of 1901 would have ended in a thunderstorm; but -it seemed as if the clouds had forgotten how to rain, and the -parched ground looked thirstier than ever, while an unsavoury -drainy smell rose from the cluster of infected houses. - -In the garden of the Chapman's house was a condemned well, now, -fortunately perhaps, dry. A wooden cover was over the brickwork, -and it was safely padlocked. Annie and her brood rested against -this as they watched the dowser advancing. - -He made straight for her gate. At a sign from her one of the -children opened it, and he and Mr. Barlow passed through; the -crowd remained outside. The door into the untidy sitting-room was -open, and without a "with your leave" or "by your leave" the -water-finder passed in, the twig jerking violently all the time. -Annie coloured, and sprang towards the house. Mr. Barlow, who was -following mechanically, stopped. "An Englishman's house is his -castle." He waited for permission. Annie was always hospitable in -spite of what to her was a sudden inexplicable feeling of shame -that the gentlemen should see what a pigsty the house was. She -smiled, however, as she held open the door, and drew her fairly -clean apron as far over her dress as she could. - -"Go you in, sir," she said; "though God a'mighty knows what he's -after there, I don't." - -Before Mr. Barlow could take advantage of her invitation, -however, the dowser had passed out through the little kitchen -into the yard behind, where, stumbling along over Annie's pots -and pans and other utensils, which were everywhere but where they -ought to be, he stopped short at a high privet fence, neatly -clipped; for with the backyard Annie's dominion ended and Tom's -began, so the fences and the gate and the palings were in good -order. There was no getting over this fence; it ran all the -length of the row of houses. The dowser retraced his steps, and -led by Mr. Barlow soon reappeared by a circuitous route at the -opposite side of the fence. Annie and her children made a big -hole in the dusty green of it and peered through. - -Behind this hedge was a small piece of waste land, or common, -where the boys played desultory games of cricket in the hot -evenings; and when there was any feed at all on it, the few -people who owned donkeys in Willowton turned them out to graze. -Just now it was as hard brickbats and guiltless of any signs of -green. All the way across this piece the rod jerked and twisted. - -"There is water here," the dowser said, stopping and wiping his -brow. He looked exhausted, and sat down on the bank that ran -along the top of the rather shallow gravel-pit that gave the name -to the place. "The spring is a deep one, too," he continued -thoughtfully--"perhaps eighty or a hundred feet below the -surface; but it is a bad place for sinking a well--too dangerous -by far with all this gravel. We will try somewhere else." - -At Mr. Barlow's request, however, he marked the spot with a large -stone, for it was impossible to put a stick in the hard ground. - -"How do you know what depth it is down, may I ask?" said the -farmer politely; and the crowd of boys and girls listened eagerly -for the answer, and none more eagerly than Geo, who stood a -little aloof with an unusual alertness in his bearing. - -"I know in this way," said the dowser, taking up his twig which -he had laid down for a moment and standing over the place -indicated. "I judge by the distance from it at which the rod is -influenced. Deep-lying water affects a smaller area than that -which is nearer the surface. My rod, as I daresay you observed, -began to jerk before we reached yonder cottage," pointing back at -the Chapman's house. "That must be a couple of hundred yards or -more away. No," he added in answer to further questions, "I don't -go by any exact scale of measurement. Other people may do so, but -I don't. Experience enables me to be pretty certain about it, -and I trust to that." - -Geo was so intensely interested at this conversation that he -could not help advancing nearer than manners permitted. The -dowser noticed him. - -"I think I saw you at the meeting," he said, looking kindly at -him. "Have you ever seen water found like this before?" - -Geo touched his hat respectfully. - -"No, sir," he said, "that I hain't. That's the most wonderful -thing I ever see in my life." - -The dowser smiled. - -"It does not seem so wonderful to me," he said. "I come of a -family of dowsers. My father was one before me, and my -grandfather, and I have a sister with the same gift, though I -have but lately discovered my own power. There are a good many -of us in the south-west of England--Wiltshire, Dorset, Cornwall; -I am a Wilts man myself." - -"Oh, indeed, sir," said Geo because he had nothing else to say. - -"You do it professionally, I conclude, then?" said Mr. Barlow, -inwardly quaking lest Mr. Wilman should demand an exorbitant fee. - -"Dear me, no--not at all. I do it quite in an amateur way, just -for the love of it. A man must sometimes help his -fellow-creatures. I am not a rich man. I can't do much in the way -of money, but having this gift, I occasionally make use of it. I -was taking a holiday just now. I am on a motor car with a friend, -and we are stopping a few days in your neighbourhood. I heard of -your difficulties, as I think I mentioned at your meeting, and -saw my opportunity for indulging in my hobby. When I am at home I -am a very busy man, Mr. Barlow. I am sub-agent to Lord -Atherthy." - -"Indeed, sir, indeed," said Mr. Barlow, with considerable relief -and a palpable increase of respect. "And I'm sure it is very -kind of you. We are as a parish immensely indebted to you; at -least, ahem, we shall be when---" - -"When I find the water, eh? Well, I am not content with this -place. I am rested now; I think we'll go on.--You, young man," -addressing Geo, "can come alongside if you like, but not too -near. Keep, like Mr. Barlow, a few paces behind me." - -So once more the procession moved on, and the dowser, after -walking perhaps some hundred yards away from the place where he -professed to have discovered a spring, took up his rod in his -accustomed way and strode on. - - - -CHAPTER V. - -OLD JIMMY'S SCRUPLES - -In the meantime the vicar had eaten a hurried luncheon of bread -and cheese in the master's room, and leaving the Union walked -quickly down to the church. He had barely time to put on his -surplus and stole when the mournful procession came in sight; and -with a sad heart he went to meet it, reading, of course, as he -went the opening sentences of our beautiful burial service for -two more victims of the epidemic--a young girl and a child from -Gravel-pit Lane. - -After the service, when he once more emerged from the vestry, he -was followed by the old man in whose person were embodied the -three offices of verger, sexton, and clerk--"Jimmy the clerk," as -the parish dubbed him. - -If anybody had asked me to point out a few of the "characters" -which are to be found in every village as well as in Willowton, I -think, without hesitation, I should have begun with Jimmy -Greenacre. I do not know if I shall be able to show you dear old -Jimmy just as I saw him, because his quaintness was a great deal -made up of a whimsical twist of his funny old face, a touch of -humour in the turn of his sentences, and an absurd habit of -gabbling his information like an eager child who has been given a -few minutes only to say his say--a habit partly the result of -having only three or four teeth left in his head, and partly from -a laudable desire to use the best and most appropriate words in -conversation with those he was pleased to look upon as his -betters. - -In person he was rather inclined to be tall, spare, and sinewy; -his hair was thick, and still dark in spite of his seventy-three -years; and being an economical gentleman, he was not as -intimately acquainted with the barber as the vicar would have -liked, but his rugged-lined old face was clean shaven, and tanned -to a deep mahogany. He walked with the slow, rather shuffling -gait of the agricultural labourer, and stooped a little from the -shoulders with the stoop that comes of hard work in early youth. -Jimmy had been born and bred in Willowton, and he was destined to -die there. In his humble way he was a perfect walking De Brett: -he knew the family history of every man, woman, and child in the -place, and that of their forebears for the last two generations -or more--some people said his memory was far too good! But if -they had only known it, they themselves had benefited oftentimes -by that same memory. To the vicar he was invaluable. The late -incumbent had died very suddenly, and his wife had followed him -within a few days. They had no children, and but for old Jimmy, -Mr. Rutland would have had to find out everything for himself. -But Jimmy knew the ropes, and taught the new vicar to put his -hands on them. "Jimmy is as good as a curate to me any day!" the -vicar would say with a kindly hand on the old man's shoulder when -he introduced him to any of his friends; and old Jimmy would slip -away with a pleased chuckle and a modest, "No, no, master; but I -does my best, and a carn't due no more--so I carn't." Nor could -he. - -It was due to this passion for genealogies on the part of the old -man that he took such a lively interest in Geo Lummis, the -"laziest booy," as he termed him in his own mind, in Willowton. - -"That there chap harn't got a chance, that he harn't," he would -tell the vicar. "His fayther was jist sich another, and his -grandfa' afore him--poochin', good-fur-noethin's booth on 'em! -messin' about all day a' the bridge, and creepin' out a' nights -after the trout--ticklin' of 'em, yer mind, and layin' abed the -best o' ther mornin' afterwards. This here booy--why, Mr. Morse, -he took a likin' tew 'um, and had 'um up here teachin' of 'um all -manner a' things. He set 'im tew a trade along av a carpenter in -Walden; but he was sune back agen, an' dun no good at all! And -here he be, herdin' along a' that scum Corkam, and talkin' all -manner a' rubbidge along a' him. His mother's ter blame, I say. -She knew well enow how it was with her husband, and here's she -a-lettin' a' the booy go th' same way. But there, what can yew -expect a' her when yew cum to recollect that her mother, Mary -Anne, was--" But when Jimmy went into the next generation the -vicar was apt to interrupt him, for he was an impetuous, hasty -young man, and not so good a listener as the old man would have -wished him to be. - - -But on this occasion Jimmy's words commanded attention. - -"Look yew there sir!" he exclaimed in a hollow tone, grasping the -vicar's arm, and pointing with a gnarled old finger that shook -partly from age and partly from excitement--"look you there, sir! -There go Mosus to strike th' rock. 'Must we find you water?' he -say; and yer know what happened tew 'um, yer know, and so dew -he--well!" and Jimmy threw out both hands with a gesture that -implied that he, at least, would have no traffic with such evil -doings. - -Mr. Wilman and his following had just come over the common, and -were bearing down again on the village, and the vicar was all -eagerness to join them. It was tiresome of Jimmy to detain him -just now, and Jimmy was as difficult to shake off as a terrier -with a rat. - -"You'll be thankful enough to drink the clear water when we get -it, I'll be bound. And as for the means, it isn't for you or me -either to criticise Mr. Wilman. God has given him apparently an -unusual gift, and he is going to use it for our good. Be off with -you and cut the grass, you old goose." - -"Cut the grass! He, he!" This was a little joke between the vicar -and the clerk, and Jimmy never failed to laugh at the sarcasm (it -had been so long since there had been a blade of grass to cut). -"Well, well, let his punishment fall on his own hid!" said Jimmy -piously. - -"Jimmy," said the vicar, quite seriously this time, "if I wasn't -a parson, I should tell you you're a regular old fool. There's a -proverb somewhere (you won't find it in the Bible, so don't think -you've caught me tripping) that says, 'God helps those who help -themselves;' and do you honestly tell me that if we kneel down -every Sunday and pray for rain, and don't accept every chance of -getting good water that God puts in our way, that He will pay any -heed to us? Must we have it in our own special way, or not at -all? Jimmy, Jimmy, your argument won't hold water; you'd better -come with me and see how it's done." - -But Jimmy scorned the suggestion, and went off mumbling about -judgements to come, and doers of iniquities, and witches, and -soothsayers, till he had grumbled himself out of the churchyard -and up the lane till he reached his own door. - -He found the house empty. Milly had been smitten with the quest, -and had gone out to the dowser. Jimmy could hardly believe his -ears when the next door neighbour--a lame woman who "would have -gone on her own account if she could," as she stoutly protested -when Jimmy lifted up his voice in a gabble of invective--informed -him that Milly had asked her to see to the kettle, and the cake -in the oven, while she went off to see the water found. "And -small blame, too! Who wouldn't see a miracle when they could in -these days when nothing happened that---" - -"There's no miracle at all about it," grumbled Jimmy, turning -round and arguing the other way when he found himself worsted. - -"Well, then, I don't see that you have no call to make such a -to-due about it. If that be so as you say jest ordinary tappin', -there can't be no witchcraft nor Satan's work about it. Bless me, -if I'd a got your legs I'd have been there long ago." - -And so it happened that before many minutes were over Jimmy's -curiosity had overcome his scruples, and he became one of the -fast-increasing crowd. - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -PUBLIC OPINION ON THE BRIDGE - -The sun was setting, and the long shadows were slanting into the -tired faces of the crowd, before the dowser considered he had -satisfactorily accomplished his self-imposed task. He had made -his circuit of the village, and come back again to the common. He -had found and marked three springs: two were, he said, at a -considerable depth, some hundred or more feet below the surface; -and one, the most conveniently-placed for those who were to -benefit by it, was on the edge of the common, perhaps three or -four hundred yards from the church. When he and his following -returned after their long and successful quest, they found motor -car standing at the Wild Swan, puffing and snorting in the -impatient way that motors do. The driver, who was most -unmistakably out of patience, called out to him to hurry, or -"they would not get to Ipswich that night;" and after a brief -adieu to Mr. Barlow, and a comprehensive word to the assemblage, -he climbed into the car and disappeared in a cloud of dust. - -Willowton metaphorically rubbed its eyes. It was like a dream. -This morning they were to die for want of water; this evening it -appeared there was "water, water everywhere, but not a drop to -drink." - -When the last sound of the departing motor's horn had died away -Geo Lummis joined his cronies on the bridge. - -"Well," said Corkam, in his rancorous voice, "of all the -tomfoolery I ever seed in my life, I never seed anything to ekal -this! Do yew mean ter tell me as that old bloke with a piece a' -stick can find out where the water is, a hundred feet under the -earth? Well, if yew think I'm goin' ter believe _that_, why -you're greater fules nor I took yer for." - -"He, he, he!" laughed the cripple admiringly. "He knaw a thing or -tew, due Mr. Corkham." - -"Well," said Corkam, swelling with importance, "if I di'n't I -ought ter, for I've been twice ter 'Meriky, and that's moor nor -the rest of yer hev." - -This argument was unanswerable, for nobody else certainly had -crossed the Atlantic, or had, for the matter of that, ever -experienced the slightest desire to do so; but still, to have -been a traveller gives one importance in one's native village, -and Corkam never let the American experience be forgotten. There -was a tradition that an impudent boy, with an inquiring mind, had -once asked him how long he had been there; and there _were_ -people in the upper walks of life in Willowton who had expressed -an opinion that he had gone over as a stoker in one of the -"Cunarders," but had never done more than set his foot on the -soil of the other hemisphere. But the fate of the indiscreet boy, -whose ears had tingled for some time after his awkward question, -had successfully deterred others from indulging in any undue -thirst for information on that point, and Corkam was popularly -supposed to be a mine of knowledge. It was, therefore, distinctly -disappointing to find that the afternoon's excitement was to go -for nothing, and that they were, so to speak, "no forrader" than -they were before. - -There was soon quite a little crowd round the "traveller," who -was airing his opinions freely, and consequently enjoying himself -exceedingly. - -"And if he hev found water," he was saying--"s'posin', as we'll -say, s'posin' there _is_ water where he say--why, he didn't find -that for nothin'. Bah! _I_ knaw better'n that. He knaw wot he's -about, does that gen'lm; he'll be round here in a month or two, -I'll lay a soverin', arstin' for yer wotes for the next election! -I knaw 'em; they're all alike--doctors, parsons, jowsers--they -don't do anythin' for nothin'. Mark my words, he'll git suffin' -out on yer before long. I knaw 'em, an' I ought'er, I'm shore, -for ha'int I've bin te 'Meriky?" - -How long this harangue might have continued one cannot tell, but -an interruption was cased by the arrival on the scene of the -doctor in his high dog-cart. He pulled up on the bridge and -addressed the crowd. - -"This seems to be a good opportunity of speaking to you, my men, -on the subject which will be discussed in the schoolroom -to-morrow at dinner-time. Three springs of water are said to have -been discovered, and it has been decided to sink wells, if -possible, in all three places; and also to clear out those wells -which already exist, with a hope that when the rain _does_ come, -and the springs begin to work again, the water may be purer and -more fit to drink. The wells must be dug at once, the funds must -be raised somehow or other; we can't stop to consider how at this -moment, for it is a matter, as you all know, of life and death. -What we propose to ask of you is to come forward with offers of -help. The farmers have kindly consented to spare those of their -men who know anything about well-sinking. I am about to send -telegrams to several well-known men to come to our assistance, -and I now ask you to think the matter over this evening, and -those men who are willing to offer their services will, I hope, -come in person to the meeting at one o'clock to-morrow, when a -selection will be made by a committee, which will be formed this -evening. I should like to add that the question of wages will be -also settled, and that the vicar and I will be responsible for -their prompt payment. All we ask of you is your hearty -co-operation in what is for the good of the whole parish." - -"Hear, hear!" shouted a few voices in the crowd, who, for the -most part, received the intimation with sullen silence and -imperturbability of countenance. Corkam's words had done their -work, and Willowton had veered round again and become -incredulous. The doctor drove off, first to call at a -fever-smitten house at the extreme end of the village, and then -to beat up a committee of influential men for the meeting next -day. - -"Responsible fur the wages, indeed!" sneered Corkam. "I'd like -ter know where they're agoin' ter git th'money from! They'll -borrer it, I s'pose, and make a good thing out of it. Never fear, -yer don't blind _me;_ _I_ know 'em!" - -"Well," said a man who had hitherto preserved a stony silence, -"th' wells have got to be dug somehow, and I don't see what call -anybody hev ter bother about where th' money come from so that's -good money, and that they come by it honest. I know sumthin' -about well-diggin', and I shall go if they'll hev me." - -"And so'll I, Martin, if yue due," said Tom Chapman, who stood -beside him. "I don't know nothin' about it; but I know that's -dangerous work, and is well paid, and I can work under yur and -due my best." - -"That you can, booy," said the other man, clapping him on the -back, "an' a better mate I don't never want te see." - -After a little more desultory talk the crowd separated, and they -all went home to their evening meal, and to talk the matter over -with their wives. - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -TOM CHAPMAN "TAKES ON" AT THE WELL - -When Tom Chapman opened his door a sight met him that was not a -grateful one to a tired man, and would have put most men into a -rage, but Tom didn't seem to mind much. He picked his way -cheerfully along over all manner of things, picking up a crowing -infant as he went that was rolled up in a shawl under the table. -"The only safe place in the room!" his wife said. A cry of joy -greeted daddy's entrance, and half a dozen grubby little arms -encircled his corduroy legs. His wife, with her hair all over her -face, looked up from the couch where she was sitting, with the -half-dressed youngster jumping about on her knees. - -"What a mess!" was all Tom said. - -"So it is Tom dear," said his wife cheerily; "but that'll be all -clear in no time.--Off with you, childer." And in a trice all the -elder ones were scampering upstairs, laughing with glee, and -carrying the greater part of their garments, of which they had -already divested themselves, with them. "Go you, Polly," she said -to a girl of perhaps eleven years old, "and tuck 'em all -up--there's a dear." - -Polly vanished after the rest. Her mother floundered about -collecting oddments for a few minutes, talking volubly all the -time, and giving her husband an amusing and graphic description -of the dowser's appearance in Gravel-pit Lane. Tom dangled the -baby as he listened, and swallowed his impatience as best he -could, for there were no signs of supper. Annie was incorrigible, -he knew, and he often felt he ought to make a stand against so -much untidiness and unpunctuality; but Annie always disarmed him. -Worn and weary, tired or ill, she always had a smile for him, and -then she had one great and very rare virtue--she _never made_ -excuses. She never either denied her faults or tried to explain -them away. Tom, like the vicar, sometimes wished she did, for it -would have given _him_ an excuse for scolding her; but she never -did, and so he learned to put up with it all. And she had also -another rare and excellent gift--she could control the children. -She never "smacked" or scolded them, and she never nagged at -them; but when she told them to do anything, somehow or other, -sooner or later--sometimes, certainly, a little "later"--they -always obeyed, and that without coercion. - -In a few minutes there was quiet overhead, for the children were -saying their prayers, and Tom sat down to the table, and ate -heartily of some very good boiled bacon and a mess of cold beans, -washed down with a couple of glasses of fromerty, a drink he had -enjoyed a few years before in the hayfield and having asked and -learned how it was made, had passed his knowledge on to Annie, -who was always quick at anything in the way of cooking, and eager -to add to her store of knowledge in that line, to her husband's -lasting joy and her own comfort. - -"Annie," he said, when he had finished and she had rocked the -baby to sleep, "I've took on as a well hand--leastways I've said -I will work with Martin, and I shall go and offer myself -to-morrow at the meetin'." - -Annie's face fell. - -"O Tom, I wish you wouldn't. That's such terrible dangerous work, -and what ever shall I do if yew get hurt?" - -"No more dangerous than many other things. That's good pay, and -some one must do it. There'll be a rare job to find the men for -three wells, to be dug at once the doctor say." - -"Three wells at once! well, that is a job! Which'll yew be at, I -wonder? P'raps they'll set yew on the one atop a th' lane. That -'ud be nice and handy, and yew could run in for yer dinner. And -what'll they giv yew a day due yew think, Tom? - -"I'm sure I don't know. Not less than three bob, I'm thinking, -and p'raps more when we git down deep." - -"Three shillin's a day; why, that's eighteen shillin's a week, -and us only gettin' twelve! Why, we'll sune grow rich like that, -Tom!" - -Chapman laughed. There is not much wealth even on eighteen -shillings for a family of ten! But the more the merrier, he said, -when his friends commiserated him for having so many mouths to -fee. - -"Have you seen th' booy Tommy since th' mornin'?" asked Annie. - -"No," he said; "I've bin after that dowser since I giv up work. -He's all right up there. I allus said that was th' right place -for 'm, though you was so set on keepin' him here." - -"'Twasn't so much that as he wouldn't go, poor booy. He did beg -me that hard not to send him away, I hadn't the heart to; and -he'd 'a bin here now if Mr. Rutland hadn't come and carried him -away in his own arms. And I'm thankful enough now that I let him -go, for they let me go up and see him this tea-time, and he was -a-lyin' there so comfortable, with plenty a' coolin' drink by his -side, and Mrs. Davies lookin' after him a lot better than I -could," said Annie with a sigh; but somehow she was learning to -recognize her own shortcomings, and realizing how unsuitable a -place her cottage was for illness. - -"And he say to me, 'Mother,' he say, 'I do very well here; don't -you take on about me'--for I couldn't help feelin' a bit bad -a-leavin' of him there, in spite of all I see of the comfort -round him. O Tom, the booards was that clean and the room that -sweet!" - -"Yis, I know," said Tom sympathetically; "and let's hope, now -he's away, poor boy, the others will escape the fever. Anyways, -the first thing to do is to git pure water, and I've set my mind -on that, Annie gal; so don't yew try to put me off th' job." - -"No--o, I won't," said Annie, as cheerfully as she could; but she -didn't really like it, all the same, though the eighteen -shillings a week dazzled her eyes. - -The next morning Chapman and his mate and some half-dozen other -men presented themselves at the meeting, and were taken on at the -wells. Four of them were sent to the one by the railway station -nearest the village, three were employed to empty one of the -infected wells, and our two friends, Chapman and Martin, were -sent with a couple of men, who had come out from Ipswich, to -start the one over the spring the dowser had marked on the edge -of the common, between the churchyard and Gravel-pit Lane, just -as Annie had hoped. - -The well-sinking committee, composed of the vicar, the doctor, -the squire's agent Mr. Jones, Mr. Barlow, and three of the -principal tradesmen in Willowton, lost no time in setting to work -that afternoon. Boxer, the largest carpenter in the place, got an -order for two cylinders or zones, to be made of the strongest oak -planks, and well clamped, in the fashion of a barrel. These -cylinders, which were, of course, circular, were about three feet -in height, and measured about seven feet in diameter. They were -made with an overhanging edge to hold and retain in their places -the bricks that were to weight them as they sank into the soil; -and a supply of sharp new spades and picks was sent to each -well-side by the village ironmonger. Apparently every one was -going to reap some benefit from this new scheme, and the prospect -of good water, even to the most sceptical, could not fail to be -popular. - -Before the evening was out collecting boxes "For the New Wells" -had been put in conspicuous places on the counters of each of the -shops, and a large one was fastened on to the church door. There -was one placed in a prominent position at the post-office, and -old Jimmy tramped off to the station with the doctor's -compliments to the stationmaster, and "would he put one in the -waiting-room?" Of course the stationmaster was agreeable to this, -and Jimmy had the satisfaction of seeing the box he brought hung -on a nail near the ticket-collector's window, and of hearing the -chink of the station-master's own contribution, and the promise -from each of the two porters of all the money they would get in -tips for the next three days. - -"Not that that'll count for much," one of them remarked, with a -wink at the old man that caused him to chuckle audibly, "'cos you -know, master, we be'an't allowed to take no money." - -Willowton was not a crowded junction, but only a little ordinary -station on the line; yet somehow or other, between them those -porters put nearly two shillings into the box. - -For the next few days, whenever the vicar or the doctor showed -himself in the village, he was sure to be stopped and asked for a -collecting-card, and before the end of the week there were -thirty-six cards at work in Willowton. Some wag suggested that -there should be one on the bridge, and that Corkam or Farley -should hang it round his neck with a suitable inscription, -because they were certain to be always on the spot! But Corkam -scowled so at the proposition that what might have really been a -most excellent plan was never carried out: for the bridge, as I -said before, was the central point of the little town, and few -people but passed over it some time in the day; consequently -quite good sum might have been collected if anybody had taken -charge of a box. Corkam apparently did all the good works he ever -meant to accomplish in America, and Farley dared not undertake to -collect without his approval. - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -A NEIGHBOURLY ACTION - -It was a week after the finding of the water, and Mildred -Greenacre was in the little orchard at the back of the cottage. -There was a sickly smell in the air of dying May flowers; the -parched blossoms fell fast on her head as she stooped over the -nearly dried-up stream to fill her water-can. A half-starved -looking billy-goat rubbed its horned head coaxingly against her -and bleated piteously. It was trying its best to tell her that -there was no nourishment in the burned-up grass, which was all it -had to live on. Milly was paying very little attention to the -poor animal's complaint, for she was kneeling on the bank, -holding on to a thorn bush with one hand, while she vainly strove -to reach the sunken water with the other. She made a pretty -picture in the broad sunlight, and it was not lost upon the -"laziest chap in th' place," as he sat idly balancing himself on -a gate opening into the field on the other side of the water. - -For some time, unseen himself, he watched the girl's fruitless -endeavours, and then he suddenly lifted up his voice and shouted, -so that she started and almost dropped her can. - -"Hold hard, and I'll help yer!" - -Milly rose from her stooping position, and looked round to see -where the voice came from. Geo came slowly towards her. He came -slowly, because it never occurred to him to hurry! If ever he had -experienced an impulse to hasten his steps, it was at this -moment. - -"I'll fill yer can," he said laconically, and without raising his -eyes to the pretty, flushed face across the stream. - -"But you can't," said Milly; "you're the wrong side, you see." - -"I on't be there long, then," replied Geo, measuring the distance -with his eye. "Yew git out a' the way, and I'll soon be alongside -a' yew." - -"You're never going to jump?" began Milly, with round eyes of -surprise. As she moved aside, but before the sentence was -finished, Geo had sprung across. - -It was not much of a jump--nine feet or so--but Geo had not -attempted anything so athletic for many a long day, and it was -not surprising that he landed somewhat ungracefully on all fours, -and was rather breathless when he picked himself up, only to sit -down again very promptly and wipe his brow with a blue-and-white -handkerchief. - -Milly stood looking at him with surprise. - -"Have you hurt yourself?" she ventured, after a minute. - -"No, no, thank ye, only a bit shook; the ground is hard." - -"That it is," said Milly--"like iron. If only the rain would -come, what a good job that would be!" - -"That would indeed! But we've got water to drink at -last--leastways we shall have when the wells are dug." - -"How are they getting on with them?" asked Milly, forgetful of -her morning's work for the moment. - -"Well, the one on the common is gettin' on fairly well. They've -got down about fifty feet; but that's 'mazin' hard work, as you -can see." - -[Illustration: "Nurse cast a satisfied glance round"] - -"And the other, the one by the railway? I haven't been round -there these three days, and my grandfather, he won't have nothin' -to say to it." Milly smiled as she said this, and an answering -smile showed itself on Geo's broad face. - -"No, so I heard say. He's an old-fashioned old gentleman, he is. -He don't go with th' times no-how, do 'ee?" - -"That he don't," said Milly. "You should hear him goin' on about -it!" - -"Well," said Geo, rising slowly from his recumbent position and -taking the can from the girl's hand, "that's a rum job -altogether. Them at the bridge can't make nothin' of it, and no -more---" - -"Why do you go with them at the bridge at all?" broke in Milly -impatiently. "Who cares what they say or what they don't say, I -should like to know?" very haughtily. "Give me my can, please; I -can get it myself!" - -Geo stared at her, at a loss to account for the sudden change in -he look and manner. A minute ago she was evidently inclined to be -friendly, but now she was equally evidently inclined to be -extremely annoyed with him. Geo gave vent to his feelings in a -low, long whistle. Milly blushed crimson. - -"I beg your pardon," she said; "I oughtn't to have said it. -That's no business of mine whether you loaf all day on the bridge -not. But I have my work to do, and I mustn't loiter here no more, -or I shall have grandfather after me." - -Geo stood quietly by while she made this rather long speech, and -was surprised to feel that he did not quite like it. He was -inclined to think he liked it better when she flashed out her -contempt for his idleness. But being a man of few words, and not -much felicity of expression, he merely muttered something -unintelligible, and leaning over the bank filled her can. - -"I'll car' it for you if you're agreeable," he said shamefacedly, -and the two moved together towards the cottage. - -"Thank you kindly," Milly said gently when they reached the door; -but she did not ask him to step in, and he turned away awkwardly -enough, wishing he had the courage to tell the girl he had not -spoken to three time in his life since they were at school -together that he was tired of his companions on the bridge, and -would gladly change his habits if only she would be friends with -him. - -With a gruff "You're welcome, I'm sure," he slouched off towards -the village. - -As he turned out of the lane by the bridge, Corkam caught sight -of him, and called after him,--- - -"Geo, come here, buoy! What are you arter, slinking away like -that? Why, that nigh on time for a pint!" - -But Geo, for once in his life, turned the other way, and -sauntered up the road to the new well by the railway. The men had -given up work for a spell, and were sitting in the shadiest spot -they could find eating their "'levenses." Geo lay down under the -fence with them. - -"If I'd ha' known what a job this 'oud ha' bin," said one man, -"blow me if I'd ha' took it on." - -"Hard work, is it?" said Geo pleasantly. - -"Ay, hard work indeed--harder work nor you iver did a' your born -days, I'll lay a sovr'in'." - -For the first time since Geo didn't know when, he felt a twinge -of shame at these rough words, and his eyes fell on his own -hands, fine, strong, well-shaped, capable hands, tanned with sun -and wind, but not hardened with toil like the other men's. A big, -good-natured looking man, who had just swallowed a good draught -of home-made "small beer," spoke suddenly, as if he had divined -the other's thoughts. - -"They look as if they cold do a day's work as well as mine," he -said, holding out a pair of rough, strong limbs, with sinews like -those of Longfellow's village blacksmith, and muscles standing -out, hard and healthy, as a working man's should be. "Let me feel -your muscles, buoy." He gripped Geo's arm as he spoke. "Pulp!" -he ejaculated, not ill-naturedly, however--"pulp! How come they -like that? Have you had th' fever, buoy!" - -"Mighty little fever about him," said the man who had spoken -first. "That's want a' work wot's the matter a' him! _He_ never -had a wet jacket a' his life! He's too much a' th' gentleman, is -Mr. George Lummis, and so was his father before 'im--like father, -like son. He was a precious sight too grand to keep his own wife -when he was alive, and niver did na more nor trap a rabbit when -there worn't nothin' to eat in th' house." - -"You lie!" said George, with sudden anger leaping up in his face, -and standing with blazing eyes staring at the sneering workman. -"Say what you like about me, but you leave my father alone, or -I'll know what for." - -"Hullo, hullo!" said the good-natured man, who was a stranger, -and had no idea of raising such a storm when he remarked on Geo's -very apparent strength of frame. "Hullo! stow that; that a sight -too hot for quarrelling. We'll ha' to go to work again in twenty -minutes, and tha would be a good lot more pleasant to have a -whiff a' bacca than commin' to fisticuffs a' this heat. Sit down, -young man, and don't be a fule." - -But Geo was much to irate to follow this obviously good advice. -Without appearing to notice the stranger's words, he strolled off -with as unconcerned an air as he could to the bridge. His -possible good resolutions had all faded away, swallowed up in the -blow his vanity had received, and a few minutes later he had -joined his friends Farley and Corkam in their far less harmless -"'levenses" at the inn. Here he regaled them with an account of -his passage of arms with the stranger, and received their -sympathy and strongly-expressed advice to do as he pleased, "and -be hanged to them!" There might be a late "haysel," and he might -get taken on for the time, and put a few pounds in his pocket to -tide him over till harvest. So when Milly passed over the bridge -at about one o'clock with her grandfather's dinner, which she was -taking to him where he was at work to save him the hot walk home -and back, she saw Geo with a flushed face and bravado air leaning -against the bridge, with his familiar pals on either side. Milly -saw, but she took no notice, and passed with her head in the air -and an angry spot on either cheek. The girl was furious with -herself for having taken an interest, even a momentary one, in -such a worthless, good-for-nothing as Geo, and still more annoyed -to think that she had let him see it. - -"That's a tidy maid," said the cripple, with the air of a critic, -as she passed, and both men were surprised at Geo's answer. - -"What's that to you?" said Geo, in a sullen tone; and he crossed -over, and became apparently completely engrossed in watching for -a trout under a stone. - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -NURSE BLUNT ARRIVES - -The last days of May were over, and June was here, but since the -visit of the dowser there had fallen no drop of rain. The fever -was in no-ways abated. There had been several more deaths and -several new cases; another young Chapman was down with it; the -isolation hospital was full, and a fierce battle was going on -among the guardians as to the expediency of admitting sick people -into the Union Infirmary. - -In the meantime, by a subscription raised by the well-to-do in -the parish, the services of a trained nurse had been secured, and -old Jimmy had been asked to give her a lodging. Everybody knew -how clean and neat Milly kept everything, and it was unanimously -agreed at the meeting, which had been hastily summoned, that the -nurse would be as comfortable there as anywhere else in the -village. - -Old Jimmy at first demurred, on account his granddaughter; but -Milly herself soon argued him out of his objections. - -"The fever is in the air, grandfather," she said. "I take all -ordinary precautions against it. I boil and filter every drop of -water we drink, and I never let anything dirty lie about -anywhere, and am as particular as can be about every morsel of -food we eat, and I don't see as I can do no more. If I'm to catch -it I shall, but not from the nurse, I know, unless she takes it -herself; for this typhoid is not like scarlet fever or -smallpox--you can't carry it about in your clothes, but only take -it immediate one from another. I'm not afraid of the nurse if -you're not." - -So Jimmy gave in, and one hot evening the nurse arrived. Mrs. -Crowe, the vicar's housekeeper, met her at the station, and -brought her to her new quarters. The white dust lay thick on the -road, and the hedges all along were choked with it. A porter from -the station followed with her box on a barrow. A most formidable -box it was. It quite frightened Milly when she saw it. She -thought she must be having a very grand lady to stay with her. -But the nurse soon explained that it was simply filled with -linen. - -"I've brought enough to last me a month or two," she said, "and -my aprons weigh so heavy; but if we can't get it up your stairs, -why, we can just unpack it in the parlour and carry the things up -in our arms. You need not worry about that." - -Milly had set out a cosy tea in the little front room that opened -into the garden--some nice home-made bread (for Milly always did -her own baking), some butter and blackberry jam, and a boiled egg -and some toast--in case the traveller was hungry after her hot -journey. The tea was in a brown earthenware pot--which, as -everybody is not fortunate enough to know, makes the very best -tea in the world--and the cloth was spotless, and the knives and -spoons well polished. Nurse cast a satisfied glance round before -she followed Milly to the little bedroom upstairs. She had had -plenty of experience, and she knew the signs of good housekeeping -almost at a glance. There was no carpet in the room, but the -flooring was exquisitely clean; some white curtains of a material -that Milly's grandmother, who had made them and hung up forty -years ago, had called "dimity;" the little wooden bedstead stood -a little out from the wall, and the sheets and pillow-cases were -as white as careful washing could make them. A rush-bottomed -chair and a little table, with the necessary washing apparatus, -completed the furniture. A jug of hot water stood in the basin, -and a pair of clean towels and a fresh piece of brown Windsor -soap looked inviting. - -Nurse sat down and removed her bonnet, opened her little black -hand-bag, and took out a sponge and a brush and comb; and Milly, -with a pleasant "hope she found all to her liking," slipped away -to make the tea. She had asked Mrs. Crowe to stay and have a cup -with them, for she was, not unnaturally, a little shy of her new -lodger. It was her first experience of having any one but her -grandfather to look after, and she felt a little anxious. - -As soon as tea was over Milly put a note into the nurse's hands. -It had been left there, she said, by the doctor, who would be -much obliged, did not nurse feel too tired, if she would come to -him in the cool of the evening, and he would explain her duties -to her. - -The conversation naturally turned on the prevailing topic of the -typhoid epidemic. Nurse, who had been a couple of years in a -London hospital, had had a good deal of experience of this fever, -and she told her listeners many interesting things which were -useful for them to know just then. She was a pleasant-faced, -kind-looking woman of about forty years of age, with a slightly -dictatorial manner, which was perhaps the result of her training; -for she had worked for several years as parish nurse in poor -districts, and often, as she told them, met with terrible -ignorance, and that obstinacy which so often accompanies it. -People _would_ not believe in infection, she said; they would not -take the most ordinary, the most simple precautions; and what was -worse, when they had learned by the bitter experience of the loss -of, perhaps, their nearest and their dearest, they still -persisted in the utter disregard of cleanliness and health. - -"And that, no doubt, is the secret of this outbreak at Willowton. -I have not been told so, but I take that for granted," said the -nurse. - -"Well, nurse, I should hardly like to go so far as that," said -the vicar's housekeeper, standing up as far as her conscience -allowed for her native place; "but there is a great deal of that -too. But our chief trouble is the water. Nearly all the wells in -the place are condemned by the sanitary inspectors, and we really -don't know where to get water fit to drink." - -"Dear me, that is bad!" said nurse. "What are your landlords -about? Why isn't something done?" - -"Oh, dear me, it's no fault of the landlords," said Mrs. Crowe, -rather warmly. "It is one gentleman owns the whole place, but he -has been out at the war the last two years, and his agent has -been doing his best, but up to within the last fortnight there -had been no possibility of finding any water. And most of the -springs have gone dry." - -"You say 'up to the last fortnight,' Mrs. Crowe. Do I understand -that you have had some water found since then?" - -"Well, yes; at least so we hope and trust there will be when the -wells are dug." - -And then she proceeded to give nurse a full and highly-coloured -description of the "miracle," as some of the people persisted in -calling it. - -"Oh yes, I have heard of dowsers," said nurse. "It's a wonderful -thing, and a good many people don't believe in it. But seeing is -believing, and from what you say I hope we shall soon see a proof -of the power. But we are lingering too long over our tea and -chat. I must go up to the doctor's house, for he evidently wants -to see me this evening, and I won't waste any more time. Perhaps -one of you will show me the way!" - -"I will," said Mrs. Crowe. "Indeed, it is time I was home too; -the vicar will be in and wanting his supper." - -So the two women went off together, and Milly was left to clear -up the tea-things and get a meal ready, for her grandfather would -not be in, he told her, till eight o'clock. - - - -CHAPTER X. - -ANOTHER FEVER VICTIM - -The account the doctor gave Nurse Blunt of the deplorable state -of the sickness in Willowton would have made a weaker woman -quail, but Nurse Blunt was strong in body and mind. - -"I mayn't sit up night, sir, as you know," she said, "but I'll do -my best all day; and I'll begin at six o'clock to-morrow morning -if you'll give me list of the most urgent cases." - -The doctor took out his pocket-book. - -"Four cases in Gravel-pit Lane," he read, "two in the main -street, three in the back alley. None of these are particularly -dangerous ones, but they all require great care, as you know, and -the difficulty is to prevent their relations feeding them with -forbidden things." - -"I know that well, sir," said the nurse sorrowfully; "I've had a -great many sad experiences of that. Many a poor thing has died -through being given solid food at a time when nothing but milk -should have been allowed." - -"Yes," assented the doctor, "of course, it is as you say; and it -has been the cause of death to several of our people. I cannot -make them see the necessity for following my orders implicitly; -they think it does not matter, or I won't find out. Well, perhaps -I don't, but nature does, and we soon see the result." - -"Where shall I go first?" asked nurse. - -"Well, there is a new case declared only this afternoon--a Mrs. -Lummis, a nice woman, a widow. She has no one really to look -after her but a lazy ne'er-do-weel of a son. Perhaps you had -better go there first. She will not keep you long. Everything -will be neat; and though very poor, I fancy she knows what ought -to be. If wanted, I'll give you an order for milk. Major Bailey -has telegraphed from South Africa that his dairy (and he keeps a -lot of cows) is at our disposal. You'd better tell her son he -must go for it every morning." He wrote out an order as he spoke. -"The others have all got them," he continued. - -And after receiving a few more important directions, the nurse -took her leave and strolled back through the village to her -lodgings. - -Milly and her grandfather were still up when she got back, though -they usually "turned in" earlier. Milly, of course, waited to -hear whether her lodger wanted anything before she retired for -the night. - -"Nothing, thank you," she said in answer to her inquiries; "but -if you'll let me have breakfast at eight o'clock I should be -glad. And perhaps you can tell me which of these places comes -first. I like to take my patients as they come; it saves time and -trouble, and they get to know when to expect me." - -She handed Milly the doctor's paper, and Milly explained. Nurse -took out a pencil and made some notes on the margin. - -"Oh! and then there's Mrs. Lummis," she said. - -"I am to go there first. Where does she live?" - -"Mrs. Lummis!" echoed Milly with surprise. "Is she ill?" - -"So the doctor says. And it appears she has no one to look after -her but a good-for-nothing son. Poor woman! I'm sorry for her, -for I shan't be able to give her much of my time with a list like -this!" - -Milly would have liked to say something in defence of George -Lummis, for she had, or fancied she had, seen something of -another side of his character when he had jumped across the -stream and stood beside her so meekly while she spoke to him -about his wasting his time on the bridge. She had fancied there -was something rather fine about him, he had looked so strong and -honest and capable for the moment; but then a little later how -different had been his appearance! The remembrance of that kept -her quiet; she had nothing to say. - -Old Jimmy woke up just in time to hear nurse's remark. "Yes," he -said, "a good-fur-northin', idlin' young fule." And if Milly had -not stopped him with a timely reminder that it was nearly -half-past nine, he would have plunged into the history of all -poor Geo's antecedents for several generations. As it was, nurse -was not particularly interested, and backed up Milly's suggestion -that it was high time all good people went to bed. - -In the meantime, in the little house on the hill that lazy, idle -good-for-nothing was making ready for the night. - -He pulled down the little blind over the open window, and set a -jug of milk and water with a glass by his mother's bedside, and -smoothed the sheet over her hot and tossing limbs. - -"You just sing out, mother, if you want anything," he said, -speaking in a comfortable, low-toned voice that did not jar on -her aching nerves. "Or if you can't sleep. I'll come and set by -you. I'd like to do that now if you'd let me." - -"No, no, Geo my boy, that I won't; I'm quite comfortable as far -as that goes. If it wasn't for the heat, maybe I'd get some sleep -myself. You go to bed now, and when you wake come in and see -after me. I'll call you sure enough if I want you." - -So Geo came away, and throwing himself on his bed was soon sound -asleep. - -In the house next door a girl was ill. Mrs. Lummis had been -helping to nurse her. If only she could be left, her mother would -come and see after her, she well knew; for the poor are always at -their best in times of illness, and the way they help each other -is a pattern to those above them. But the girl was very bad -indeed, not likely to recover, and Mrs. Lummis could not look for -help from the nearly worn-out mother. It was a comfort that Geo -seemed to be so handy. She was lucky, she thought, to have such a -son; but she felt anxious, knowing that her illness was likely to -be a long one. She knew not of the likelihood of the nurse -coming to her. Like everybody else in the village, she knew of -her advent, but nobody had told her she had really come. If she -had she would have passed a less miserable night, perhaps; for, -of course, nothing was farther away from her than sleep. - -After all she had heard, nurse was rather surprised, when she -knocked at the door about seven o'clock next morning, to find it -opened to her by a pleasant, bright-faced young man, who looked -as if he had just dipped his head into a tub of cold water, so -fresh was his colour. - -"_You_ haven't been up all night, I'll be bound," she inwardly -ejaculated; "but you look different from what I expected." - -"I am the new nurse," she said in answer to the astonishment that -shot out of his blue eyes, "and the doctor has sent me to see -after your mother. What sort of night has she had?" - -"Pretty bad," said Geo. "I was just gettin' th' kettle to boil, -and thought I'd make her some tea." - -"Milk is better for her," said the nurse. - -"That's too early for milk yet," said Geo; "you can't get milk at -the shop before eight o'clock." - -"Oh, well, I've got a ticket for you," and the nurse produced it -out of her little black bag. - -"Why, that's for the Hall!" said Geo with surprise. - -"Yes, that's all right; the doctor sent it. You'd better take a -can and go and fetch it at once. I'll see after your mother if -you'll just take me to her." - -"But I think I'd better first let her know," said Geo, thinking -this newcomer was taking rather too much on herself. - -Nurse read his thoughts and flushed a little. She was so full of -the importance of her mission, so anxious to do her work -thoroughly, that she sometimes forgot the little courtesies due -to everybody, sick or well. - -"Certainly," she said, rather curtly. "I'll wait till you come -down." - -George disappeared up the steep little staircase that led out of -the sitting-room to the bedroom overhead. He was gone a few -minutes, and when he came back he said his mother would be glad -to see nurse if the doctor had sent her, and he showed her up. -The sick woman, who looked thin and flushed with fever, looked -half frightened at the nurse for a moment, and then began to cry. - -"Leave her to me," said nurse to Geo, who did not understand. -"She'll be all right in a minute or two." - -So Geo went off in his usual leisurely way for the milk, and the -nurse talked soothingly to the sick woman, took her temperature, -which was very high, and gave her some fever medicine. - -"Are you going to do for her?" asked the nurse bluntly when Geo -returned. - -"I s'pose so," answered Geo in the same way. - -"Well, I'll call in some time again this afternoon. You need not -stop with her all day, but you must come in and out; and give her -nothing but milk, but plenty of it. But can you be spared from -your work? Oh," as Geo hesitated, "I forgot." - -Geo saw she had already heard about him. It was unnecessary to -explain. - -"I'll due wot yue say," he said simply, opening the door and -letting her out; and then he went back to his mother, who spoke -gratefully of the nurse and seemed glad of her help. - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE STRIKE AT THE WELL - -One would have thought that so excellent a work as the digging of -the wells would be allowed to go on quietly, but unfortunately -the fact that the scheme happened to have been originated by the -vicar and the doctor was enough to make some people condemn it; -and we all know, when once the thin end of the wedge of -discontent and distrust has forced its way into anything, how -difficult--nay, how often impossible--it is to dislodge it. And -so it was that the men at the railway well, when they had dug to -the depth of nearly fifty feet and had found no water, began to -get impatient and disheartened. Most of the wells in Willowton -were not more than thirty or forty feet deep, and were fed, of -course, chiefly by surface drainage; hence their deadly poison. -These new wells were on the higher ground above the village, and -naturally water was to be found there only at a deeper level; but -these men either would not or could not take this in. Two of them -had had very little experience whatever in the work, and like all -novices, they looked for immediate results; and when these were -not forthcoming, they grumbled at the dowser, their employers, -and everything else. Their evil counsellors advised a strike for -higher wages than the unprecedented amount they were already -receiving, and so it happened that one hot morning, when the -vicar went up to see how they were progressing, he found the well -deserted, and no signs of the men anywhere. He walked up to it -and looked in. It was partially covered with planks in the usual -way, apparently just as they had left it the night before. He was -puzzled. The men had apparently struck. But why? he asked -himself. And nothing he could recall threw any light upon the -matter. - -"That is the worst," he thought "of employing irregular workmen." -But it had been impossible at such short notice to procure all -professional well-sinkers, and he had thought himself very -fortunate to have secured two, one for each well; while all the -men, except Chapman, had seen the work going on at various farms -in the neighbourhood, if they had not actually assisted. They -were perfectly well aware of the nature of the work; they had -volunteered for it, and gone at it cheerfully enough. The strike -was altogether inexplicable. - -The vicar paid his visit to the Union, and an hour later came on -to the bridge, where he saw all four men seated on the parapet, -smoking, and talking loudly and ostentatiously, as if they wished -to engage the attention of the passers-by. They were a -rough-looking gang, however, and nobody seemed inclined to stop. -Curiously enough, neither Corkam nor Farley was present. - -"Good-morning, my men," he said pleasantly when he got within -speaking distance. "How is it you are not at work?" - -A sort of sullen silence had come over them at his approach. No -one attempted to break it, but each looked covertly at the other -for guidance--all except the stranger, who turned his back and -became apparently deeply interested in the ducks on the water. - -"You're all here, aren't you? No accident, I hope?" said the -vicar. - -"No accident as I know on," answered the foreman at last. - -He was a man who had been in the choir, but had left for some -stupid reason or fancied slight, known only to himself. Mr. -Rutland had been extremely kind to him always, and had helped him -more than once with money when an accident during harvest had -kept him out of work. - -"Well," said the vicar, turning very red with an evident effort -to keep his temper, "since none of you have anything to say, I -will wish you good-morning." - -"Well, but we have something to say," said another man roughly. - -This man had had three children down with the fever, and the -doctor had given them every attention, even sitting up half the -night on occasion when two of them had been in a very critical -state. He had behaved very differently then from what he was -doing now. He thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, and -tried to look as callous as he could. - -The vicar looked at him for the eighth part of a second with -disgust. - -"Well, then, Cadger, stand up and say it properly," he said -authoritatively. - -The man slipped off the parapet, and stood looking very -uncomfortable, for all his swagger, under the vicar's scrutiny. - -"Now, then," said the vicar sharply, "what is it? what is your -complaint?" - -"We've struck," said two or three voices at once. - -The vicar never once glanced at the graceless creatures still -dangling their legs, though less aggressively; he addressed -himself to Cadger. - -"Oh, have you?" he said as calmly as he could. "What have you -struck for?" - -"More wages," said Cadger, glancing at his comrades for -directions. - -"Which you won't have," said the vicar quietly. He was quite calm -now and very white. "You agreed for what was considered by -yourselves, and by everybody else, a very generous wage. You have -no right to ask more. I, for one, will certainly not advocate it. -There is reason in all things, and money is not so plentiful in -Willowton as you seem to think. I am disappointed in you, Cadger, -particularly; I had thought better things of you. I fancied you, -at least, were anxious to take your share in lessening the -terrible trouble that has been put upon us; but I see now you -only thought of your own interest. With my consent, I tell you -honestly, you will not get a penny more." - -"He! he!" laughed one or two of the men; but the vicar never -looked round. - -"But," he added, "I am only one. You can bring your complaint in -proper form before the committee, and, of course, if the majority -agree, what I say will not stand; so you have your remedy." - -He walked away as he finished speaking, and Cadger sat down -again. He did not say anything, for somehow or other, though he -felt very valiant at first, he began now to feel rather small. -There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, and then -the stranger, whose name was Hayes, knocked the ashes out of his -pipe against the root of a tree and spoke. - -"He don't look such a bad sort," he said reflectively. - -"I don't mind him so much," said Cadger patronizingly, "when he -mind 'is own business." - -"Oh, indeed!" said the stranger with a twinkle. "Well, now, -whatever is 'is business?" - -"Well, I s'pose that's te preach in th' church, and give the -money tue th' poor, and wisit th' sick." - -"Yis. Well, go on; northin' more'n that?" - -"Well yis," went on the man, never seeing that Hayes was "pulling -his leg:" "he've got ter due th' christenin', and th' marryin', -and th' buryin'." - -"Well, that last ought ter give 'im plenty o' work in this hole," -said Hayes rather brutally. "Well, go on. Anythin' more?" - -"Well, he've got ter see after the schule, an' the clothin' club, -an' the parish room, an' sech like things." - -"And don't he take no trouble about the choir? Don't he have no -Bible classes, nor confirmation classes, nor nothin'?" - -"Oh yis, hev them," Cadger allowed. - -"Well, then, there's them concerts, and trips to the seaside, and -school treats you was tellin' me about the other day. Don't he -have nothin' to do with them?" - -"Oh yis; he manages them, in coorse." - -"Oh, 'ndeed! Well, now, how about the cricket clubs and the -football clubs?" - -"Oh, he's treasurer for them tue." - -"Well, then--I don't hold much with parsons myself, but I should -like to know wat's _not_ his business!" - -"That's not 'is business to come interferin' wi' us," said the -man who had laughed derisively. It was he who had insulted the -memory of Geo's father. - -"Oh, ain't it? Well--- Don't be angry," as the man fired up; "I -only ask for information. Who had the startin' o' these here -wells?" - -Nobody seemed anxious to answer this question, and Hayes did it -himself. - -"Why, the parson hisself, didn't he? And aren't he and the doctor -answerable for the money? If any one has a right to say anything, -I should think the parson has. But you're on the strike, and -right or wrong you're in for it; but I don't mind tellin' of yer -I ain't--I'm only one to four, and that's no good holdin' out. -But I ain't one a' yer sneakin' sort; I ain't afeared ter speak -out, no more'n th' parson, and I tell yer honest I hain't struck. -I can't goo on by myself; but I've been a well-sinker all my -days, and I know I niver had sech good pay offered to me before, -and I'm content. If they don't give in, why, the well, I s'pose -will have to be closed. But that don't matter to me; I can get -plenty a' jobs at Ipswitch, an' I can go back where I come from, -quite agreeable." - -He put his pipe back into his mouth when he had finished his -harangue, and puffed away for some moments in silence; and then -the storm broke. The other men were furious at his words. They -called him by every opprobrious name they could think of. - -"All right," he said at last, leisurely pulling off his jacket; -"let's fight it out." - -He stood up boldly in the middle of the road, with his head -thrown back and his fists clenched; but nobody seemed inclined to -accept his invitation. - -A butcher's cart that was passing pulled up to see the fun, and -in a minute or less there was quite a crowd of small boys -standing round the angry group. Encouraged by the "gallery," -Hayes, who had hitherto been perfectly good-humoured, was -beginning to be really angry, and in another minute would -probably have let fly at one or other of his late mates; but the -policeman, who happened to be at hand, stepped up in the nick of -time and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. - -Hayes was sobered in a minute. - -"All right, master, I don't want to fight. There ain't one a' -them but wot I could pound into mincemeat if I liked, but I'll -let 'em off since you've come." - -He pulled down his shirt sleeves as he spoke, and Cadger and his -mates took the opportunity of slipping off, and in five minutes -the bridge was clear. Indeed, the whole scene had not lasted -quarter of an hour; and when Farley and Corkam emerged from the -back parlour of the Swan, their mortification and disgust at -having missed it knew no bounds. But there had been one silent -spectator who concerns our story--it was Geo Lummis. He had heard -it all, every word, as he hung over the bridge watching the -stream. It was no business of his, so he did not interfere; and -knowing that he would be questioned and cross-questioned a -hundred times over by both of them if they knew he had been -there, he turned off abruptly and went home. - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -BACK TO THE WORK - -Annie Chapman never had liked her husband working at the well. -She said as little as she could, and she scarcely knew why, but a -sort of nameless fear always crept over her when people spoke of -the work. Though she took her husband his "'levenses" and his -"fourses" every day, she never could be induced to look down into -its depths, which naturally grew deeper day by day. - -It was a hot walk though a short one, and Annie's head throbbed -with the intensity of the heat, and her feet felt as if they were -weighted with lead. It was like walking on hot flags, she -thought, as she plodded over the common with the last baby in her -arms. The men had rigged up a sort of rough tent with four poles -and a stack-cover, and placed a couple of benches underneath it, -and Annie stopped to rest under its grateful shade. She was a -little early, and Tom was still at work ninety feet below her. -She shuddered as she thought of it, and Martin's daughter, who -had come on the same errand for her father, laughed at her. - -"You're never cold, Mrs. Chapman!" she said. "That must be a -goose walkin' over your grave." - -"Likely as not," said Annie, answering in the same vein; "there -are plenty on 'em about." - -The girl laughed. She was a nice, bright, curly-haired, freckly -girl. She looked kindly at Annie, and held out her arms for the -baby. - -"I don't believe you half like your husband takin' on with my -father," she said. - -"How do you know?" asked Annie, rather sharply for her. - -"Why, Chapman told fayther so. He said you was rare put about -when he told you, and if it weren't that he think that's only -duin' what he oughter, he'd ha' chucked the job long ago. But he -would not go back on fayther, he say, after he've giv his word; -and he's a good man, he is," she added warmly. "Fayther he think -a lot o' him. He's a good un to work, he say, and a good mate -tew, and fayther don't say that a' ivrybody, I can tell yew." - -Annie felt pleased. It is always pleasant to hear nice things, of -course, about those we love, and Annie was generally so busy -muddling along with her household and children all day that she -had very little time for gossiping or exchanging many words with -her neighbours; and she scarcely knew how her Tom stood amongst -his fellows, for he was quiet and unobtrusive, and was not a man -to make many friends. - -"He think a lot a' your father too," she answered, giving tit for -tat with truth. - -"I wish they'd come up," Annie said at last. "If they're not -quick I'll have to go back without seein' Tom." - -"Why don't you put your head over and call down to him?" said the -girl. - -Annie shuddered again. - -"Oh no, no, I dursn't" - -"Well, I will," said her companion. "I know Mr. Hayes'll let -me.--Won't you now, Mr. Hayes?" - -The big man who sat on the edge of the temporary woodwork that -was erected at the mouth of the well turned a good-natured, -sunburnt visage towards her. - -"All right, my gal! come on, I'll hold ye. They've got on well -to-day. They're down a sight deeper than last time you looked." - -The man held back the ropes that hung from a windlass over the -top, and the girl stooped over the brink. She could see the heads -of both men down at what appeared to her an unfathomable depth. -She uttered a little cry of dismay. The earth had been getting -softer and easier to dig into for the last two days and they had -made considerable progress. Martin looked up as the shadow cast -by the girl's head and shoulders darkened the pit a little. - -"Hullo! That's you, my gal, is it? Well, I'm coming. I want my -fourses bad, I can tell you." - -"Well, come on up then, father; and tell Mr. Chapman his wife -have been waitin' for him ever so long, and she've got to go home -directly, to give the children their teas." - -"All right, then.--You go up first, Tom." And nothing loath, Tom -put his foot into the loop, and gripping the rope with both hands -was soon drawn up. - -"My eye, it is hot up here," he said, as half blinded by the sun -he made his way to the tent. Martin soon followed, and the women -unpacked their baskets. Annie had brought Tom a bottle of his -favourite fromerty and a large harvest-bun. Martin liked tea, so -his daughter had a pot full of it rolled up in an old shawl to -keep it hot, for Martin held that hot tea is the most cooling of -drinks. "Drinkin' cold things when you're hot only makes you all -the hotter!" Well, every one to his taste, and the big man -preferred beer. He was a stranger, and the same man who had made -such cruel remarks on Geo Lummis's muscles. - -He lodged at Martin's house, so "Martin's gal," as Polly was -generally called in the village, had brought his "fourses" too. -He quaffed off his half-pint of good home-brew, made by Mrs. -Martin herself, and with a sigh of enjoyment flung the drops at -the bottom of the glass on to the thirsty ground. - -"That 'ud be a rum job," he said, as he seated himself on the -form, "if that dowser chap ha' happened ar a mistake, and we -don't find no water arter all." - -"We'll find it all right," said Martin decidedly. "He knowed what -he was about. He said that was a long way down, and I believe -him." - -That Martin should believe him was quite sufficient for himself -and Chapman, for Martin was one of those people that carry about -them a quiet power of making every one else trust them. He -possessed that nameless intangible quality that we know as -"character." Martin was not particularly clever, he was not -entertaining or amusing in conversation; but he undoubtedly -possessed a great deal of character, and in his quiet, -deliberate, commonplace way he carried as much weight as any man -in the parish. If it had not been for Martin, it is pretty -certain the wells would never have been begun, much less -finished. It was Martin whose example made Chapman, Lake, and the -other two Willowton men at the railway well come forward in the -first instance and volunteer their services. It was Martin who -gave the other men courage to come forward with with their offer -of work. It was Martin who kept Lake and Chapman up to the mark -when, seeing the difficulty and hardness of the work, they -wavered, and, urged on by "the bridge," were inclined to strike -for more wages. - -"What, give in," he said, "when we've go so far--sixty feet or -more below th' surface? More money yer want? Well, I'm all fur -gettin' all we can. I haven't no sort er objection te money -myself; but fair play's a jewel, I say, and we've took this risk, -and we've jest got te keep it. A few more shillin's won't make -our lives na safer, and we've got a good wage--three shillin's a -day ter start on, and a shillin' more for every ten feet; and I -say that's good pay, and we don't want na better--leastways we -didn't ought to. Do you think folks is _made_ o' money?" he -asked, warming to his subject. "I don't say as Mr Rutland and the -doctor are goin' to pay us out o' their own porckets--in coorse -they're not; but they're responsible--that's how I take it. And -they are payin' us fair and punctual; and I'm not goin' to say -that I don't believe but what if they get more money than they -want by their subscription boxes, and they offer me a bonus, that -I'll refuse it," with a twinkle in his honest gray eye. "No, if -they like to remember the well-diggers when the water is come, I -won't hev northin' to say agin it, I'm sure; and nor wud yue now. -Jest yue put that in your pipes and smoke it!" - -He lounged off as he spoke with a "good-night" over his shoulder, -and next morning, when, having "smoked it" with much thought -overnight, the two men arrived on the scene, they found Martin -there before them. He made no remark, and work began as usual. -The idea of going back never entered either of their heads again, -though the railway-well men had carried out their threat and -struck. - -When Lake, who lived in Gravel-pit Lane, went down with the -fever, it was Martin who suggested to Mr. Rutland to get back the -stranger, who had only gone away that morning reluctantly; for he -was an experienced digger, and saw little risk in the railway -well, and would willingly have gone on with the work if he had -not been thrown out by the pusillanimity of his mates. He came at -once, and both the Willowton men took to him. He was pleasant to -work with, for he was both able and hard-working, and never, -"shirked a spadeful," as Martin told the vicar, with just a touch -of pride at his own sagacity in suggesting him. Mr. Rutland had -been doubtful when it was proposed to him. He did not think it -wise to bring him in again, but Martin's good sense overruled -him. - -"There's nobody in the place durst come and help us," he said, -"time them tue others is out a' work; they wouldn't leave 'em -alone, not a minute. That's only a stranger we can hev now, as -matters are, and he hadn't northin' ter due with the strike." - -"Who do you think had then?" asked the vicar, little expecting so -prompt a reply. - -"Why, that scum Corkam!" asserted Martin stoutly. "He's at th' -bottom a' most a' these here messes, he is! He goes a-talkin' ar -a lot o' rubbidge about 'Meriky (as I don't believe he ever -landed on), and he tell 'em a sight o' stories about the big -wages over there, and he don't say northin' about the house rent -they have to pay, nor the price o' wittles, nor clothin', which I -know ('cos my brother lived out in them parts for years) don't -leave them not sa very much over for theirselves to due what they -like with arter all. And they've got ter goo and leave the old -place and their friends and relations, and work a sight harder -fur their money than we due here." - -"Just so, that's just it, Martin," said the vicar. "A little -knowledge is a dangerous thing. Corkam has got a little -knowledge--a smattering of facts about many countries; but he is -like a parrot--he repeats what he has been told, and has never -gone into the subject himself,--not had the chance, most likely." - -"You're right, sir; that's about the size on it! And them chaps -on the bridge of an evenin', they'll swaller anythin' he like tue -tell 'em. That there young Lummis---" - -"Oh, George Lummis! Yes, poor fellow, it's heartbreaking to see -him idling away his whole life like that. But somehow I fancy -George will break loose one of these days. One day Master Corkam -will tell him something he can't swallow, or offend his sense of -right and wrong, for there's nothing really bad about Geo--at -present, at any rate. I still have hopes of Geo, and I hear he is -making an excellent nurse to his mother." - -In speaking thus the vicar was not talking at random. He had for -some time past been unaccountably interested in Geo. To his keen -sight--lazy, good-for-nothing as he appeared--Geo was full of -possibilities. There came into the young fellow's sleepy, -handsome face a look sometimes that made you fancy that under -certain circumstances he might rise even to some great height of -heroism. - -The vicar had been fortunate enough, as long ago as last summer, -to catch that expression one day when he came accidentally upon -him lying on the bank in the flowery meadow, lazily dropping -leaves into the stream and watching them float way. Mr. Rutland -was one of those very rare philanthropists who can resist the -temptation of improving the occasion. He saw a whole sermon in -the picture before him, and could have drawn half a dozen lessons -from the vagaries of the leaves--some of which spun round and -round and disappeared rapidly into the flowing water, others that -caught in weeds and remained prisoners or drifted under the -bank--but he did not. Geo had looked up as he caught the sound of -his footstep, and there was a look in his face that took the -vicar by surprise. It was, he thought (and he almost felt ashamed -of being so imaginative) an expression that might have been on -the face of a hero of the middle ages--a look, brave, clear, -determined, as of a man braced for some great deed, and yet he -was idling away his time on the grass, tipping leaves in the -stream. A man of less tact and less human sympathy than the vicar -would have stopped and made some remark, or at any rate have -given him the customary greeting; but Mr. Rutland refrained, and -passed on as if he had not noticed him. There was something -fermenting in Geo's brain, he saw, and he felt certain it was, -whatever it might be, for good. - -Nothing, as far as Mr. Rutland knew, ever came of this. Geo -worked hard at the "haysel" and the harvest that had followed, it -is true, and he took on occasional jobs at various farms in the -neighbourhood, but for the most part he idled away his days, as -we have already seen. His latent heroism, if he possessed any, -remained dormant. But the vicar always remembered the look when -people meted out to Geo their not unjust strictures on his -useless life. - -In the meantime Geo was growing daily in the good graces of Nurse -Blunt. No patient of hers, she often told Milly, was more -carefully tended than Mrs. Lummis. Geo was a born nurse, and was -as gentle and dexterous as a woman, and even old Jimmy's grunts -of disapproval failed to convince her that there was "nothin' in -him." - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -RAIN AT LAST - -On the following day the heat became almost intolerable. People -went about their work, and got through it somehow, but everything -in nature appeared to be at its last gasp. The farmers had given -up any further hope of a hay crop, and had begun to feel anxious -about the harvest. When night fell the tiny cool breeze that had -sprung up most evenings to refresh the earth a little was -absent--a dead weight was over everything. The Chapman children -were unusually restless, and Tom, tired with his work, grumbled -fretfully as his wife moved about, first consoling one child and -then the other, and rocking the restless infant to and fro. On -such nights as this sleep is well-nigh impossible; and it was -well for Annie that she had the children to attend to, for her -heart was heavy with a terrible foreboding. Merry, careless Annie -was smitten with an unaccountable miserable feeling of coming -calamity. It had been growing and growing ever since Tom had -"taken on" at the well, and to-night it seemed to have reached -its height, and Annie longed most intensely for morning. Never -had a night seemed so long and unbearable. - -The vicar, too, was lying sleepless through the long hot hours, -puzzling over the unexpected strike of the well-diggers, -wondering at their folly, and coming very near the truth when he -thought of the changed aspect of many of his parishioners, when -he remembered the averted looks, the nervous salutations that had -taken the place of the ready smiles, the respectful yet friendly -greetings that only a few short weeks ago met him at every turn. -He had really been almost too busy to notice it; and even now he -thought this notion that he was losing his hold on the affections -of the people he lived for and spent his life for was probably a -creation of his own troubled brain, born of the heat and the -anxiety and overstrain of those same past weeks. The rain could -not be far off now, he thought, for all day long the sky had been -overcast, and a steaming, stifling blanket seemed to have been -thrown over everything. As he tossed and fretted the first heavy -drops pattered on his window-sill. It had come--the blessed, -blessed rain--and the long, hard drought was over! - -He sprang from his bed and stood at the open casement, listening -with delight to the growing volume of water that splashed down on -to the baked earth and ran off the roofs into the dry, warped -water-butts. He stood there, with the welcome spray leaping up -and shooting into his face and dropping on to his bare feet, till -he felt almost cold; and then with a thankful heart he regained -his bed, and for the first time for some nights fell asleep. What -mattered anything now? the rain had come--Willowton was -saved--"the plague was stayed!" - -There were others in the clustering houses in the back streets -who, sitting up with their sick and dying, felt the bands that -had tightened round their weary heads suddenly loosed, felt the -killing physical strain give way as the first drops fell on their -roofs. - -Milly Greenacre, from behind her white dimity curtains, rubbed -her sleepy eyes and turned over again, with the comforting -thought that the rain had at last come. The cattle, lying out in -their baked pastures, lifted their thirsty heads, lowing with -pleasure for the heaven-sent moisture. The birds in the orchard -awoke at dawn, and enjoyed a long-anticipated bath. Milly's white -pigeons came out of their cot, and lay on the little gravel-path, -with wings upturned, enjoying to the full the fall of the great -cool drops. The horses in the far-off farm stables neighed -joyfully at each other, and every creature alive drank in new -life at every pore; even the fever-stricken patients rallied and -gained strength. Soon the grass would grow green again, and the -springs would begin to work, and all would be well. And yet -nothing in the future could undo the past; nothing could give -back to the mourners their loved ones. Willowton had indeed paid -the penalty of its own disregard of the laws of health; but now, -please God, the others would be saved. - -All through the day that followed this blessed night the rain -fell--not quietly, or even with a break, but heavily, -incessantly, and unremittingly. People paddled out in it under -cloaks and umbrellas, and rejoiced with each other. The work at -the well was necessarily suspended for the time, for the rough -wooden shelter over it proved of little protection from the -tropical violence of the rain. - -"That don't kinder rain at all," old Greenacre said; "that come -down whole water." - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -THE COLLAPSE - -On the third day the rain abated, and work was resumed at the -well. For the first few hours it went steadily on; but before -noon an awful catastrophe had occurred, and it became known all -over Willowton that the brickwork had fallen in, and that Chapman -and Hayes were entombed under the _débris._ - ---- - -Mr. Rutland was at the Workhouse Infirmary when the news reached -him. The doctor was there too, and the two gentlemen drove off at -once to the scene of the disaster, where stood Annie Chapman with -a white drawn face, her baby in her arms and three other little -ones clinging to her skirts as usual. Martin's girl stood by her. -The children were out of school, and they too were there, a -hundred or more of them with wide eyes and horror-struck faces. -What was _not_ there was any sensible, capable man to take -command and keep the crowd back; for it was not yet the -dinner-hour, and the labourers were still in the fields, and -Martin, on the principle that what is important had better be -done by yourself, had rushed off, after sending a boy to fetch -Mr. Rutland, to telegraph to Ipswich for scientific help from the -firm who had supplied Hayes, and who had given advice as to the -mode of proceeding at the outset. Martin returned scarcely a -minute later than Mr. Rutland and the doctor, and hurriedly -informed them of his action in the matter. - -Having made a clear space of some thirty feet or so round the -spot where the unfortunate men were perhaps even now lying with -the life crushed out of them, the doctor threw himself on the -ground and listened anxiously for some sound of life. If they -lived, the men would, of course, shout loudly and untiringly for -assistance; and then--as it was was just possible that, even if -they could not make themselves heard, some sound might reach -them--Mr. Rutland leaned over the chasm and shouted words of -encouragement and cheer. But he might have shouted to the empty -air, for never a sound reached them. - -When one o'clock struck from the church tower the vicar sent the -children to their homes, and with kindly firmness insisted on -Annie Chapman's going back too and getting some refreshment. The -children's needs was a good excuse. - -"I would not keep you away if you wish to come back," he said. -"No one has, alas, a greater right to be here than you. Come when -the children are gone into school again. I will have the -tarpaulin shelter that was taken down on account of the rain put -up again, and you can rest there." - -Annie thanked him with a look; she was beyond speaking, and -seemed dazed. "Martin's gal" went home with her, helped her with -the children's dinner, and came back to watch with her all that -long, weary afternoon. - -It was two hours before the Ipswich man arrived in a carriage -drawn by a strong, fast horse, white with foam, and reeking with -the heat of his rapid run. An assistant quickly unpacked the -apparatus for lowering the men who had volunteered for the -dangerous task of removing the fallen bricks. The accident, the -man said, was due to the violence of the rain, which had -percolated through the earth so quickly that it had loosened the -soil all round the well to a depth of some twenty or thirty feet, -and caused the brickwork to bulge inwards and fall. How far down -the mischief extended, of course, he was as unable to determine -as any one else; but one thing was sufficiently obvious--that -_time_ was everything. Another downfall would be almost certain -destruction, and the unfortunate men, he said, had two dangers, -not one, to contend with. At any moment the springs might begin -to work, and they might have escaped death from the fall of the -well only to be drowned by the rising water. It was a truly awful -predicament, and as it always happens when a real calamity -overtakes any of their mates, those who had most reviled them for -refusing to strike now came forward with offers of help, and even -forbore to make unpleasant remarks of any sort. - -Corkam, who was, of course, soon on the scene, actually held his -tongue too until the work of rescue was fairly set in hand, and -each man had been told off to his hours of duty, when he -entertained a favoured group with various supercilious remarks, -and an assurance that these things were much better done in -'Meriky. No one, however, paid much attention to him. They -naturally could think of nothing but the horror and the magnitude -of the present catastrophe. Things that had or had not happened -years ago in a foreign country mattered very little to any one -now in the face of this horrible reality; and Martin told him so -pretty plainly, and not a little roughly, with the desirable -result that he went off to the bridge to give his friend Farley -the latest details. And nobody missed him particularly! - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -FRIENDS IN NEED. - -Next morning Milly Greenacre was making bread in her little -kitchen at the back of the parlour, when an unaccustomed step -sounded on the gravel-path. It was a shy, hesitating sort of -step, and yet it was unmistakably a man's. Milly looked through -the door, and saw Geo Lummis bending his head to enter the porch. -She rubbed some of the flour off her arms and bade him enter. - -"Is it my grandfather you want to see?" she asked him, with that -modest self-possession that never deserted her. "Won't you sit -down?" she added, drawing a chair forward. - -"No, miss, thank you," said Geo shyly; "I can't stop. 'Tain't -your grandfather that I come after; I wanted to see the nurse if -I could." - -"I'm afraid she won't be in this forenoon," said Milly. "but -will you leave a message with me? I'll be sure to give it to her -as soon as she comes back." - -"Well, I hardly know as I can leave a message. The truth is," Geo -blurted out suddenly, with a rush of colour into his fair-skinned -face, "I want to go and help at the well, and I can't leave -mother. I was going to ask if she could come now for a couple of -hours and let me go. They are wantin' help badly. I don't seem as -if I _could_ stay quiet while them pore chaps are underground, -dead or alive; that seem as if we must get at 'em as soon as we -can.' - -"When do you want to go?" asked Milly, in a matter-of-fact tone. - -"Now, at once, if I could; but nurse haven't been yet, and -there's a lot to see to and do for mother, and I don't ever leave -her till she is put comfortable for the day. I've jest run over -on the chance of finding nurse; but if she isn't here I s'pose I -must jest go back and wait till she come." - -He made a step towards the door. Milly glanced at the clock: it -was a quarter-past ten. - -"I'll come," she said quietly, "when I've finished laying my -bread. If you go on, I'll be there in twenty minutes, and I'll -wait till nurse comes, and settle with her what can be done." - -He muttered some incoherent thanks, but they were, except for the -sake of his manners, quite unnecessary. The look of gratitude -that he cast on Milly was quite a sufficient expression of -thanks, as far as she was concerned. As he went out she returned -to her bread-making. - -A quarter of an hour later the bread was safe in its earthen pan, -with a snowy cloth laid over it; and Milly had washed her hands, -turned down her sleeves, set a tray on the table in the parlour, -with nurse's glass of milk and some bread and cheese on it, and -had gone in next door to tell her lame neighbour where she was to -be found, and to ask her to explain her absence to her -grandfather if he returned while she was at Mrs. Lummis's, and -also to ask nurse directly she had had her luncheon to call in -and tell her what to do. Milly had heard quite enough of the -relations between Geo and his mother from Nurse Blunt to be quite -certain of her sympathy in the sudden impulsive step she had -taken; and she felt sure grandfather would raise no insuperable -objection now that all available hands were required at the well. - -So Milly went upstairs and sat down quietly by the bedside of the -sick woman, who was now sufficiently convalescent, in spite of -some serious heart weakness, to take an interest in her -neighbours, and was glad to see the pretty, bright girl she had -often seen and admired at a distance but had never spoken to -before. - -"I promised your son to stop till nurse comes," Milly said -pleasantly, "so I hope you will let me do so." - -The sick woman smiled her willingness, and Geo, with renewed -efforts at expressing his thanks, departed. - -In the meantime there was trouble at the well. The work of rescue -had been going on all night, and the men were giving out. Martin, -toil-stained and weary, was still there, but the work was -practically for the time at a standstill. The men were in -absolute need of rest. When Geo reached the scene the director -from Ipswich had given the order for a break-off in ten minutes -for five hours rest. He was surveying, with some anxiety, the -relief men who had arrived in answer to an urgent telegram he had -sent a few hours ago. They were weedy-looking, dissipated -fellows, and to judge by the director's face were evidently not -the material he required. - -"We must do the best we can with what we can get," he was saying -to the doctor, who stood at a little distance holding his -impatient horse by the bridle. "These men must be kept from the -drink, and then they may do. At any rate, we must take them on -this morning; but what I want is a strong, active, light-built -young fellow, who won't lose his head in an emergency, and will -do as he is told without hesitation." - -Geo stepped forward. He had been near enough to hear these last -words. - -"Will I do, sir?" - -Both men faced round at once, and Geo often told Milly afterwards -that one of the hardest moments of his life was that when he -caught the expression of the doctor's face. It expressed so much -contempt, surprise, and distrust that he was cut to the quick, -and once more within a few minutes the hot blood surged into his -face. But the director's words softened the sting,--- - -"Do? Why, you're just the man. Who are you, and what do you know -about the work?" - -"My name's Lummis," said Geo, looking him straight in the face, -but avoiding the doctor's eye, "and I don't know nothin' about -the work; but I heard what you said just now, and I'll do what -you tell me to." - -"All right, then; and as to wages---" - -"Never mind about the wages, sir, thank you," said Geo -respectfully; "whatever you give the others will do for me. I'm -ready any time." - -"Well, off with your coat, then, and come." - -Geo had his coat off and hung up in the tent in a trice, and was -carefully lowered into the well, seated astride on a board, one -hand on the rope and in the other a pail. - -"Now, then, Lummis," said the director, when he was sufficiently -deep down the reach the _débris_, "hook your pail on to the hook -on your board, and lean over and pick off carefully anything you -can reach. Be careful to bear no weight on anything or the whole -thing will collapse." - -"I understand, sir," said Geo, his voice sounding strangely -hollow to himself from the depths of the well. - -Carefully and dexterously Geo detached bricks, and with a small -scoop ladled the earth into his pail, and as soon as it was -filled he detached it from his board and hooked it on to another -hook that dangled from the windlass; and while it was being drawn -up, emptied and returned, he raised himself to a sitting posture -and stretched his back as best he could, for he had not been long -at work before his limbs ached considerably with their unwonted -toil. Two hours went by, and still Geo worked on patiently, and -often painfully, till the director blew his whistle, and he was -hauled up for a welcome rest. Then one of the other men was -lowered, and so the work went on, and by nightfall an immense -quantity of soil had been removed, but as yet the men below had -given no sign. - -It was during this long terrible time of suspense that Mr Rutland -learned part of the secret of Tom Chapman's love of his -apparently feckless, untidy wife. Annie still remained untidy, it -is true--she had never been anything else--but she certainly was -not feckless. - -As soon as it was daylight each morning she appeared, asking only -the most absolutely necessary questions, and receiving the -dispiriting answers without a murmur. At seven o'clock she would -go home, give the children their breakfast, and get them ready -for school; but she was back again at her post before long, there -to wait and do any little kind acts or odd jobs for the men, and -going on any little errands into the village. In spite of her -evident suffering she kept up a brave, even cheerful appearance. -Punctually as the school broke up she went away again for a -couple of hours. The doctor, to his great surprise, found her to -be clever with her fingers, quick to learn how to bind up a cut -or bathe a bad bruise; for the work of the rescuers was no easy -task, and in their determined efforts to let nothing drop they -often did themselves little trifling injuries which were all the -better for being treated at once. Everybody was very kind to her, -and her boy Tom up at the Union was getting through his fever -well. There were crumbs of comfort to be gathered on the way, -and Annie was not the woman to refuse them. - -She too had shared the doctor's surprise when Geo Lummis appeared -on the scene as an eager recruit, but unlike the doctor, she -showed no sign of it; and when Geo stepped into the tent to hang -up his coat, she smiled at him such an entirely approving, -grateful, and encouraging smile, that it for the moment wiped out -the doctors scorn. Geo knew Tom Chapman, and did not care about -him; but for the sake of Tom's wife, he felt now that he would -risk anything to restore her husband to her. - -There are some natures that seem to require some extraordinary -circumstance or moral earthquake to "draw them out." Geo's was -evidently one of these. He was being distinctly drawn out -now--the real Geo was bursting out of his chrysalis. Corkam and -"all his works" receded very far as he felt himself swing down -into the well. - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -AN ANXIOUS SUNDAY. - -At last it was Sunday morning, and the men had now been -forty-eight hours in the well. A rumour had got about that they -were still alive. The bells rang out for service as usual, and -Milly brushed her grandfather's well-worn beaver hat, settled his -necktie, and pulled down his coat, just as she had done for the -last eight years, and they went off to church together. Somehow -it seemed wonderful to Milly that anything should go on as it had -done last week, for every one in the village was felling the -strain of the anxiety caused by the prolonging of the terrible -situation of the entombed men. - -Geo Lummis and Martin and two other men had been working all -night, and just as the "tolling in" began a relief gang arrived, -and the four tired men came trooping through the churchyard, as -being the shortest cut to their homes. Milly, with several other -people, stood aside to let them pass. They looked worn out and -weary, toil-stained and depressed. Nobody spoke, and they none of -them lifted their eyes as they passed; they were too dead beat -for greeting of any sort. Milly cast a glance at Geo. She was -beginning to take a very lively interest in that young man, for -Geo, seen through his weak but loving mother's spectacles, was a -very different person from Geo seen through her grandfather's -somewhat prejudiced glasses. Anyway, he was behaving well now, -and there was no need to look back. - -The doctor, who accompanied them as far as the gate, now -returned, and affirmed the rumour that it had been satisfactorily -ascertained that _one_ of the unfortunate men, at least, was -alive--that shouts and knocking had been distinctly heard, but -that as yet no means of communication had been effected. This, -however, he hoped would be done in the course of an hour or two, -and he expected to have really good news for them when they came -out of church. - -Nobody ever quite knew how that service was got through. Most -people tried their best to follow, but each one was conscious of -a divided attention. Every one was listening with at least one -ear for the shout that they knew would go up when the expected -communication was affected. - -It came at last! The vicar had just gone up to the pulpit and -given out his text when though the open doors came the distant -shout "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah-h-h!" Many among the congregation -started to their feet, some fell to their knees, and others -sobbed audibly. The vicar paused with uplifted hand to secure -silence till the shouts ceased, and then addressed the people. - -"There will be no sermon this morning," he said. "I think your -own thankful thoughts will be more appropriate than any words of -mine;" and after a short prayer of thanksgiving, he gave the -blessing and dismissed the congregation. - -"Not, I beg and pray of you," he said, "to rush off to the scene -of action, where your presence can be of no service to the -unfortunate men, and for the moment will only hinder the efforts -of their rescuers. Leave them a little while, is my advice, till -the excitement has cooled down, and then take your places quietly -beyond the barrier if you will; but I implore you to remember -that the men who are working at the relief want cool heads and -steady nerves, and they have come fresh to the work, and at -present want no encouraging shouts or chaff to keep them going, -as our brave fellows did last night when they hardly knew how to -go on." - -The vicar's advice was good, and, for example's sake, he denied -himself the pleasure of hurrying off to the well, and many of his -congregation refrained also. It was then twelve o'clock, and by -three that afternoon the rescue gang reached the cylinder twenty -feet below the surface by tunnelling, only to discover, to their -intense dismay, that a mass of woodwork had fallen on to the -mouth of it, and that rescue that way was impossible. The -foreman, however, managed in a clever way to pull out a small -piece of loose wood, and calling down to the men below received -the welcome answer, "We are all right, but are in three feet of -water. Couldn't you get us a drink?" - -The foreman shouted up the message, and in a trice a dozen -willing messengers were running to the village, returning -speedily with jugs of such various liquors as their personal -tastes and means suggested. There were beer, porter, milk, -brandy, cocoa, cider; but the doctor, who had been on the scene -all morning with his improvised ambulance, insisted on milk and -beaten up eggs with brandy. The tidings, of course, soon spread, -not only over Willowton, but to all the neighbouring villages, -and the half-dozen policemen who were on duty had their work cut -out for them in keeping the crowd from coming inside the ropes. -As it was, every tree in the vicinity was thick with boys and -men, and every fence and bank that offered any point of vantage -was a mass of eager lookers-on. - -Now it was that the most dangerous work was to begin. It was -decided to endeavour to reach the men by making a hole in the top -of the cylinder, and three men were lowered with ropes around -them, and instructed to remove the soil in pails. This they did -with the greatest care, so as to prevent any falling back--a -danger that was very likely to occur. At the end of an hour and a -half a slight slip occurred, and the entombed men called out that -the mould was coming down upon them. - -"You're goin' to cover us up and ha' done with us," said Hayes, -with a feeble attempt at jocosity; "but give us a drink first." - -"Sartinly, sartinly, that we will," said one of the men -encouragingly, and a few minutes later a bottle of the -"egg-flip," with a covered light attached to it, was lowered -through the aperture, and the work began again. - -It was nearly half-past seven when the men were again spoken to. -They seemed to be losing heart. They had knocked the light out, -they said, and they were wet through and wanted to come up. - -"So you shall, my boys," shouted the foreman, "as soon as we can -get you." And with that they had to be content. - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -GEO TO THE FORE AGAIN. - -All through the middle of the day, till six o'clock, Geo Lummis -slept. At three o'clock Nurse Blunt came over to Mildred and -asked her to go to Mrs. Lummis. - -"I wouldn't trouble her, Mr. Greenacre," she said, as old Jimmy -began to gabble and grumble, "but I _must_ go to the opposite -side of the of the parish, and Mrs. Lummis is in that stage when -she must be attended to. Your granddaughter will have nothing to -do but give her he brandy and milk at the proper times. She has -done it before, and I can trust her, which is more than I can say -for most of the girls I have had to do with. You'll have to let -her go." - -So grandfather made no further demur, and Milly changed her -Sunday gown for a work-a-day one, and went off on her errand of -mercy accompanied by the nurse. - -"That young Lummis is there dead asleep," nurse said as they went -along. "Mind you don't wake him going upstairs; he's in the room -opposite his mother's, you know. Not that you need be much afraid -of disturbing him," she added--"they mostly sleep for hours when -they come off work like that--but when you do hear him moving, -you'd better slip down and get him a cup of tea ready and some -cold meat and bread. I've seen to that; it's in the cupboard to -the right of the stove. He should be at work again by seven." - -"Very well," said Milly; "I'll see to it." - -So when Geo woke out of his heavy sleep at six o'clock, he, -through the open window, could hear the kettle singing on the -little stove in the back-house below, and some one moving softly -about. There was a comforting sound about it, and he stretched -his long limbs luxuriously. Just then the church clock struck the -half-hour. He raised himself with a yawn. "Half-past--what was -it?" He reached out for the large silver watch that was in the -pocket of his coat that hung over the chair. It was half-past -six! He flung himself off the bed, dipped his head in a basin of -cold water, rubbed it hard with a rough towel, washed his -earth-stained hands, and strode across the little passage to his -mother's room. She was sleeping peacefully, and he slipped -quietly downstairs. Milly stood in the little kitchen, a kettle -in her hand, and a tray with a white cloth stood on the table -before her. Geo started with astonishment. - -"I thought I should have to wake you at last!" she said shyly, as -he took the kettle from her; "it was getting so late." - -Geo did not answer very relevantly; he was still lost in -astonishment. - -"Have you done all this?" he said, pointing to the tray. - -"No; nurse got it ready before she went. I am only making the -tea." - -"Well I take it very kind of you, miss," said Geo heartily. -"P'raps you'll have a cup yourself?" - -Milly was not sorry, and the two sat down in the little kitchen, -which, though hot, was the coolest room in the house--the sun was -on the other side. They looked out on a little garden to the -meadows, in which the grass had begun to grow again. The sound of -the running water seemed cool and inviting. - -"That looks nice out there, don't it?" Geo said, when he had -swallowed his third cup of tea and made havoc of the bread and -meat. "I s'pose you can get your can filled nowadays after the -rain without any help?" - -Milly laughed. - -"Oh yes, there's water enough now; I can reach it easily." - -Geo actually looked disappointed. - -"I meant I'd ha' liked to ha' got it for you," he said simply. - -"There goes the quarter-to," said Milly for an answer; "you've -not got too much time." - -"Time enough to have a look round, if you'll come," he said, -getting up and looking down on her shyly from his superior -height. - -Milly made no objection, but took up her hat, which she had left -in the inner room, and the two strolled out into the meadows. - -Geo pointed to the chimneys of Milly's home, which could be seen -across the stream, perhaps a quarter of a mile away. - -"If you'll walk up as far as that with me, I could jump across -into your orchard, if you don't object, and I'll be punctual at -the well. That's a lot shorter than goin' round by the village." - -Milly thought her grandfather would probably object very much, -but she risked it, for she thought a little walk along the -water-side with that "lazy, idle good-for-nothing" would be -rather pleasant. As they went along they talked about the well. -The worst and most dangerous work was to come. - - -"Some one, you see, must go down after them poor chaps," Geo -explained. "You see they'll be so cramped and done up they'll -never get themselves safe through the opening; for I expect -that'll have to be a precious small one from what I see when I -left, and you say they've not got at 'em yet." - -"No," said Milly; "my grandfather called round an hour ago, and -he said the hole wasn't no bigger than what would admit an -ordinary man, and that they were binding it round with straw and -making it as strong as they could, because that man Hayes is so -big they're frightened he should break it down, and father said -nobody seemed as if they wanted to try it." - -"Not a doubt about that," said Geo, tightening his lips. - -Something in his voice made Milly glance up at him. The look on -his face was the same one that Mr. Rutland had surprised on it a -year ago. - -"You're never going to do it yourself?" she exclaimed -involuntarily. - -"Not unless I have to," Geo answered quietly, and speaking as if -to himself. "But it's got to be done, and I'm not a married man. -Martin is, and so are the other two." - -Milly did not answer. To those who follow dangerous callings in -all ranks of life such an argument is unanswerable. Milly -understood, and said nothing. - -They had reached the gate where Geo had sat and watched Milly -vainly endeavouring to reach the water only a very short time ago -now. The blossom was off the May, of course, but the half-starved -buttercups were enjoying a second season. - -"That's were you stood," said Geo, following out his own thoughts -as he opened the gate for her to pass through before him. He -nodded across to the overhanging thorn. - -"You did take me by surprise then," said Milly, smiling as she -conjured up the scene. - - -"And there's the billy-goat. He've got more to eat now than he -had then; but, all the same, I was jealous of him then. I'd ha' -liked to ha' been in his hide jest for the minute when he was -rubbin' his head against you, and you was coaxin' and pettin' of -him, that I would!" - -Geo was getting on and no mistake! - -"Well, he's jealous of you now," said Milly, with some confusion, -as the animal, recognizing her voice, strained at his chain and -bleated piteously. - -What Geo's next move might have been is unknown, as just at that -critical moment the tiresome church clock boomed out the hour, -and Geo pulled himself together. - -"I must go," he said. "I don't like to be late on a job like -this," and before Milly could answer he had sprung across. He -turned and gave her a nod as he picked up his cap, which had -fallen off, and set off running towards the house. Milly waved -her good-bye, and returned slowly through the meadows. The -neglected goat bleated imploringly after her, but she never heard -it. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE RESCUE - -It was eight o'clock, and the crowd that had come and gone during -the afternoon had now gathered again in force. It was known all -round that the critical moment had arrived. Everything was ready; -the supreme act of bringing the men to the surface alone remained -to be accomplished. The rope was carefully lowered, and the -watchers held their breath. - -For some minutes the rope dangled, now and then becoming taut for -a moment, and then hanging limp again. It was evident that -something was wrong. - -"What is it?" the foreman shouted anxiously. - -"We can't do it," came a voice from the bottom. - -"We're too stiff; we can't get hold." - -There was a silence for what seemed an interminable space after -these words. - -"Some one must go down to them," said the foreman slowly, his own -face growing very white. He knew that whoever went down might be -passing to instant death; for though everything that could be -done had been done to render the passage safe, yet he had hoped -against hope that the necessity of a passage _down_ would be -avoided. He was a great stout fellow himself, and not so active -as Hayes, who he had trusted, would squeeze himself through. - -During that pause the workmen looked questioningly at each other, -and no one read in his mate's face any desire to try the -dangerous experiment. The crowd listened again breathlessly. The -foreman cast an imploring look around. - -"Won't anybody volunteer?" he asked. - -"I will." - -It was Geo Lummis who spoke, and a burst of approbation broke -from the bystanders. - -It was as well the men below were in ignorance of the immediate -and extreme danger they were suddenly exposed to by the lowering -of a third person into the abyss; for their position was -this:--The woodwork which had fallen over the mouth of the -cylinder had held up the fallen earth when the wall caved in. -This mould was now removed, and by the extraordinary skill and -care of those engaged in the difficult task the woodwork had not -shifted; but it remained to be seen whether the bad passage of a -man working his way down with practically no light go guide him, -and with the chance of dislodging odd pieces that had stuck fast -in their fall, would not bring the whole thing upon their heads -and his own, and, as Hayes put it, "finish the job and have done -with them." - -Geo was fully alive to the danger as he adjusted the rope round -his body, put his foot into the loop, and gave the command to -"lower away." At first he went down very slowly, and then came -the order to "lower faster," and the crowd grasped the welcome -fact that there was no insuperable obstruction in the cylinder. - -For a short space of time there was an ominous silence, and then -a closed lamp was let down, and the foreman's face cleared. One -part of the difficulty had been surmounted; he began to feel more -confident of success. - ---- - -In the meantime Geo had reached the bottom, and found the men -supporting each other as best they could, but stiff and chilled -with their long immersion in three feet of water. - -Hayes tried to raise a feeble cheer, but Chapman was past any -attempt at cheerfulness. He had sunk into a sort of sullen -apathy. Neither of them was capable of helping himself. At first -both men wanted to come up at once, and Geo found himself -suddenly confronted with an unforeseen difficulty. Chapman was -obviously delirious, and Hayes was showing signs of losing his -temper. - -_"One at a time,"_said Geo decidedly. "Can't you see there's no -room for two?" - -"Well," said Hayes at last, "you can send up him; he's pretty -nigh done for, and he've got a missus and little 'uns. Only hurry -up and due it." - -Geo lost no time in securing Chapman as best he could, and with a -stern command to him (for he seemed to have completely lost his -nerve) to hold on tight and keep his body straight, he chucked at -the rope to show all was right, and with a beating heart watched -him being drawn higher and higher, till he had passed safely -through the aperture. Then he turned to Hayes. This was no time -for sentiment, and neither of the men indulged in it. - -Hayes had his pipe between his teeth. It had long ago been -guiltless of tobacco, but it was comforting, all the same. He did -not remove it, and he said nothing to Geo, but signified his -gratitude by a nod, and what under happier circumstances might -have been a wink. - -When the rope reappeared he seized it, with Geo's assistance, -made himself fast, and gave the signal for going up. - -Geo saw the soles of Hayes's big boots rise over his own head -with eyes that dilated with something like fear, and a heart that -thumped audibly against his ribs, as for a few moments his own -fate hung in the balance. Hayes's broad shoulders, even with the -greatest care, might refuse to pass through the aperture without -dislodging some of the fallen timber; such a little would send it -down on his head. It would be a horrible death, for he would see -it coming--coming--coming before it fell, and Geo didn't want to -die. The possible nearness of death flashed into his mind, and he -scarcely dared look when Hayes reached the hole, and a few broken -straws, loosened by his passage through it, floated down on to -his upturned face. The ominous words, "You'll cover us up and ha' -done with us," occurred to him again with terrible persistence. -Minute after minute passed, and the rope did not reappear. -Impossible but horrible thought, were they so much taken up with -Chapman and Hayes that they had forgotten him? - -Geo had stepped on to one of the turned-over pails on which the -other men had been standing, and the water had reached up to his -knees when he had given Hayes his parting shove. He now noticed -with surprise that it had suddenly reached considerably over -them. He glanced apprehensively to the sides of the well. It was -perfectly evident that the water had risen. Higher, higher it -crept, till it nearly reached his waist, and then the awful truth -flashed on him. _The springs had begun to work!_ - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -GEO AGAIN SURPRISES HIMSELF AND HIS FRIENDS. - -It was perhaps just as well that Geo was an inexperienced -well-sinker, and that he did not know the horrible danger he was -in, or with what fearful rapidity a long-dry spring sometimes -rises when once it has begun to move; but he shuddered with -apprehension as the cold water crept up to his arm-pits, and as -it touched his shoulders flesh and blood could stand no more, and -he lifted up his voice and shouted with a shout that shook the -frail supports above him till he trembled once more for their -endurance. - -It is said that a drowning man sees all his life pass in review -before his mental vision, and a wave of remorse for lost -opportunities and wasted days swept over him as he stood on the -brink, as it were, of eternity. And all the time those ominous -words of Hayes were ringing--ringing--ringing in his ears--those -ears that soon would be covered with the creeping icy flood. At -last! at last! After an eternity of agony the aperture was once -more was once more darkened; something was coming down--quick, -quicker, the rope was running out from the windlass. Thank God, -it had a bucket on the end of it. Splash it went in the water, -and filling, sank immediately. Geo shouted as he grasped the rope -with his strong hands, twisted his legs round it below, and as -they drew him up slid his half-numbed feet into the bucket. - ---- - -I don't think that any one who was present will ever forget the -moments when Geo's white face appeared above the brickwork, and -his dripping garments told the tale of his terrible predicament; -for Geo for the moment was past speech, and there went up from -the crowd such a roar of admiration and delight as Willowton had -never heard before. And there was such a rush of the foremost -bystanders to shake their hero by the hand that the policemen had -their work cut out for them with a vengeance, for the enthusiasm -had passed all bounds. - -The foreman had said, "Don't make a fuss when they come up," when -the other men had been drawn to the surface; for he had seen -similar accidents before, and he knew that the men's nerves would -not be in a state to stand much excitement. The crowd had behaved -in an exemplary manner, and except for the summarily-squashed -cheering of a few thoughtless boys, they had been allowed to pass -quietly to the conveyances that awaited them, assisted by the -parish doctor and a couple more medical men from Ipswich. But it -was not to be expected or desired that they would treat Geo in -the same way. Martin and Cadger managed the rope, and as he -reached the surface Mr. Barlow and the vicar were there to greet -him. - -"You're a brave fellow, Geo," said the vicar, grasping his hand, -while the farmer patted him kindly on the back.--"Now, then," he -shouted, waving his hat to the crowd, "three cheers for the -gallant rescuer. Hip, hip, hip, hur-rah-h!" and once more the -ringing cheers rang out. - -Geo began to feel shy and looked about for a chance of escape, -but there was none. He found himself standing with a little group -in a clear space into which the vigilant police allowed no one to -intrude. Just then a diversion occurred. Over the cheers came the -strident discordant sound of a motor horn, and across the common -flashed a car, which pulled up sharply, and a gentleman sprang -out. The police recognized him, the crowd made way, and he -hurried up to the group round the well. It was the dowser. His -arrival was well-timed, and among the crowd there were some who -knew him before, and without much difficulty he pushed his way -through to the enclosure, and in obedience to a signal from Mr -Rutland the policeman allowed him to pass under the rope. He -looked pale and anxious. - -"Is it all right?" he shouted when the car stopped. - -A welcome "Yis, yis, master," allayed his fears. - -He had followed the movements of the rescuers eagerly since his -daily paper had given him news of the catastrophe; but being a -busy man, it was not till this morning that he had been able to -get away from his work, and had left his home in Gloucestershire -almost at break of dawn. Motors are not infallible, and his car -had broken down at Swindon; and it being Sunday, there had been -great difficulties and consequent delay in getting it repaired. - -Mr Wilman's eye fell naturally on the central figure of the -group, Geo Lummis. - -"Ah!" he exclaimed, "I was right: there _is_ water in your well!" -for Geo was dripping, and the water was running off his clothes -and trickling slowly away on the dry soil. - -"Indeed there is sir, and more'n I cared about!" said Geo -dubiously. - -"I recognize you," said the dowser, smiling. "You are the young -man who followed me with Mr. Barlow on the search." - -"Yes, sir," said Geo quietly, and shivering as he spoke. - -"You're cold, boy," said Martin. "Hev some a' th' doctor's -stuff," and he handed a glass of the egg-flip to him. Geo drank -it off, and wrung out his trousers. - -"Can't we disperse the crowd now?" said Mr. Rutland to the -constables; "I should like to get him away." - -"Not yet awhile, sir," said the constable, with a knowing look. -"They're taking round the hat for him, and he deserve it, that he -do," he added emphatically. "Best leave 'em a few minutes, if -you've no objection sir." - -Mr. Rutland had no objection, but Geo himself _had_. - -As a rule, Geo was, as we know, easy-going to a fault, and fell -in too readily with anything and everything that his friends -liked to suggest; but to his own surprise as much as that of any -of the bystanders at these words, which he could not help -overhearing, all his pride rose in revolt. His face flushed with -sudden red, and his voice rang out with a loud and peremptory -_"Stop that!"_ - -The men who were collecting turned and stared. They were not -accustomed to refusals on occasions of this kind, and Geo's -sudden bursting into notice astounded them. - -"I take it very kind of you all," roared Geo, as if he had been -accustomed to address a constituency, "but I'd rather you didn't -give me nothin'. What I've done any on you would ha' done if I -hain't a-been by, and I've liked myself wonderful all this last -week, and I find I'm gettin' 'mazin' partial to work." (Cheers -and laughter.) "Yes, you may laugh; there do 'pear a bit funny, -I'll own, but that's the truth, and nothin' but the truth, and -I--I--I mean to _work like a good 'un!_" - -He ended rather lamely, but the crowd took up the cheers again, -and, police or no police, half a dozen strong young fellows broke -through the barrier, hoisted Geo on their shoulders, and carried -him right away up the village to the tramp of many feet and the -tune of "For he's a jolly good fellow," and nobody raised a -protest even in the sacred cause of order. - -Milly Greenacre stood at her garden gate as the stream went by; -old Jimmy looked out of his bedroom window in his cotton -night-cap, and cheered in his cracked old voice. - -All his life long Geo will remember the dim outline of Milly's -figure, white against the background of the lilac bushes, and the -quaint, whimsical face of the old man peering into the darkness, -and looking at him, for the first time of his life, with -approval. It was only an instantaneous snapshot from the lanterns -carried by some of the party that revealed the picture to him, -but it was photographed for ever on his brain, and it was not one -of the least among the pleasurable things Geo looked back to when -all the excitement was over, and he had settled down to steady -work as he said he would. - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -CONCLUSION. - -It is often said that no great work can be accomplished without -some correspondingly great sacrifice, and the fever was not -stamped out and the water supply made pure without the suffering -of an innocent victim in the good cause. And scarcely had the -excitement over the accident at the well abated, when Willowton -learned that one of the chief directors of the movement--their -vicar--was dangerously ill. The long strain, physical and mental, -of his resolute fight for the right, the senseless opposition his -flock had met him with all through those weary months of work and -disappointment, had told on him at last, and when the moment of -victory came he succumbed, and three days later he was raging in -the delirium of fever. And then, but only then, the wiseacres of -the village remarked to each other that they had "minded he -looked wonderful quare the last few Sundays--kind a' dazed like;" -and the old women had noticed his thin cheeks and restless eye. -Yet none of them had ever thought of saying a kind word to him -when he called at their cottages, and all had greeted him with -the sullen manner they had adopted, as if by common consent, -since he had begun his crusade against dirt and insanitariness. - -On the evening of that day the doctor's dogcart stopped at Mrs. -Lummis's door. He had been such a frequent visitor there during -her illness that nobody attached any importance to his visit; -though Mrs. Lummis was up and about again, but not yet able to do -entirely for herself. But the neighbours did stare when, a -quarter of an hour later, Geo came out with a bundle and climbed -into the cart alongside him, and drove away up the village with -him. And they would have stared harder if they had known whither -Geo was bound. - -Geo and his mother were sitting at their evening meal when the -doctor had knocked at their door. And they were not alone; Milly -Greenacre was with them. The three were laughing merrily over the -old lady's reminiscences of her "courting" days, and there was a -pleasant sense of comfort and happiness in the air. - -"I am sorry to interrupt you, Mrs. Lummis," said the doctor, -putting his kindly face in at the door, "but I have come to ask -you for your nurse." - -"Come in, sir, come in," said Mrs. Lummis, rising; and the doctor -complied, Geo closing the door behind him. - -"But nurse have been gone these two days, sir," she said -wonderingly. - -"Ah yes. It's not Nurse Blunt I want; it is this good fellow -here," looking at Geo, who got very red and looked extremely -uncomfortable. "The truth is," went on the doctor, "it is not a -woman I want, but a _man_, for the vicar; he is desperately ill, -you know." - -"Yes, sir, we've heard," said Mrs. Lummis sympathetically. -"That's a bad job, poor gentleman, I'm sure; but---" - -"Now, look here," said the doctor, cutting short any possible -objections, "this is a matter of life or death; there is no time -to lose.--Will you or will you not come?" turning to Geo. - -"Me, sir! I am sure I don't know. I don't know nothin' about -nursing. I---" - -"You know quite enough. Nurse Blunt will be there when she can, -and Mrs. Crowe will do her best. But the truth is, the poor man -is violent. It is a strong man I want, with a steady nerve and a -good temper. You, I think can answer to this description, and I -think, after the pluck and ability you showed during the past -week, that I can trust you." - -Geo's eyes gleamed for a moment under their downcast lids, and he -looked at his mother and Milly for inspiration; and the doctor's -keen eye noticed with amusement that he sought Milly's counsel -first. - -"Oh, you must go," said Milly warmly, answering the look. "That -would be a shame not to go to him. If only I was a man---" - -"Which you need not wish at all, Milly," said the doctor, -laughing, for he had known Milly all her life. "You had better -come and help Mrs. Lummis a bit every day, and let her son -go.--Come along, Geo; put your night things together and let us -be off." And so, as Mrs. Lummis expressed it afterwards, "the -doctor was so terrible masterful he took him off before my own -eyes as if he'd a-been no more'n a child!" - -But Geo proved no child, and, indeed, it was no child's work he -had to perform. For several nights he and Mrs. Crowe sat up with -the sick man, who, until the fever had spent itself, was so -strong that Geo had to put forth all his strength at times to -hold him when the fits of delirium came on. Then came the -inevitable weakness that follows fever, and so for a fortnight -the vicar of Willowton lay between life and death. - -"Quiet, nothing but absolute quiet, can save him," the doctor -said. And so the bells were not rung for service; the carts and -other vehicles that generally came rattling past the vicarage -gate were now turned back at the top of the street, for a -faithful guard was always set there to stop all traffic that way. - -It was old Greenacre's idea. "That there rattlin' is 'mazin' bad -for the 'hid,'" he said--"I mind that whin I was ill threugh -bein' thrown off a wagon when I was a booy--and they didn't ought -ter pass this way." So he established himself on a chair under -the shadow of the garden wall, and sat patiently watching the -egress through many a long hour, keeping the street. "Jest like a -beggar with a tin mug and a paper pinned on his chist," said -Corkam, who couldn't resist a sneer. But old Jimmy was not there -all day, for there were grateful convalescents in the persons of -Tom Chapman and his friends, who took their turn as sentry. - -So the sick man, so carefully tended within and so guarded -without, still hung on between life and death. And as he lay -there powerless and speechless, that fickle jade Popularity stole -back to his side. Shyly, shamefacedly, almost fearfully, people -began to speak well of the man who was in all probability going -to give his life for their well-being. He had had the grace to -"ketch th' faver" just like one of themselves, and it was going -as hard with him as it had gone with many of their own flesh and -blood. - -"He warn't so bad after all," they allowed. "'Twarn't so much his -fault that there well fell in." They even remembered how he had -watched and prayed by the sick-beds. They went so far as to hope -he "wouldn't be took." And the doctor, who read them like a book, -smiled to himself as he watched the poison of prejudice gradually -dying in their hearts, and common sense and a small measure of -justice stealing back into their perverted minds. - -At last came a day when the good man came gaily down the -staircase and opened the door with the welcome words, "A decided -change for the better. Please God, we'll pull him through now." -And a subdued murmur of joy arose from the little crowd of women -and children that gathered every morning round the house to see -the doctor go away and hear the latest news. - -Foremost among these was Annie Chapman--hard working, untidy, -cheery Annie. She has improved very little in any respect except -in her household arrangements; but though no power on earth could -ever succeed in making her tidy, cleanliness has become her -ruling passion. She scrubs, and rubs, and washes everything she -can lay her hands on, and no future outbreak of fever or any -other disease shall ever, she declares, be laid to her door. So -out of evil will come good, and the Willowton of the future -promises to be a very different place from the fever haunt it has -been for the past half-century, if the doctor and the vicar and -Annie Chapman can make it so. - -And now there only remains for us to see how things fared with -Geo Lummis, who so suddenly found himself acting so important a -part in the annals of the village. Dr. Davies was anxious to keep -him under his eye as a professional man-nurse; but Geo struck at -that. He was very glad, he said, to have been of use to the -gentlemen, both of them, but sick-nursing was no work for him. He -pined for the fresh air and the open fields, and, if the truth -must be known, for the ripple of the water under the bridge. Not -that he meant to return either to his old ways or his old -companions, for he has done with Corkam for ever; and Milly -Greenacre and he have made their minds to be married as soon as -the vicar is well enough to marry them. And as if wonders would -never cease, Milly's scruples about leaving her old grandfather -alone have all been removed in the most unexpected manner. While -Geo has been nursing the vicar all the past month, old Jimmy had -been spending all his odd moments with Mrs. Lummis, with the -result that he and Geo are going to play at "puss in the corner," -and there are going to be two weddings instead of one! Geo is -coming to live in the Greenacres' pretty cottage, and old Jimmy -is going to hang up his hat on Geo's old peg in his mother's -house. A more satisfactory arrangement of all parties could not -be imagined: for Jimmy has saved quite a little hoard of money, -enough to keep him comfortable, he hopes, for the rest of his -life; and Geo has been taken on as a farm labourer by Mr. Barlow, -with the promise of an extra teamster's place, and he is looking -forward to getting his seven pounds for the harvest which is now -about to begin, after which he and Milly are to be made man and -wife. - -THE END - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water-Finders, by Unknown - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-FINDERS *** - -***** This file should be named 55506-8.txt or 55506-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/5/0/55506/ - -Produced by Jeff Hunt -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/55506-8.zip b/old/55506-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0e24a64..0000000 --- a/old/55506-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55506-h.zip b/old/55506-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a6909ba..0000000 --- a/old/55506-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55506-h/55506-h.htm b/old/55506-h/55506-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index f138238..0000000 --- a/old/55506-h/55506-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3919 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/loose.dtd"> -<html lang="en"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> -<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Water-Finders</title> - -<style type="text/css"> -h1, h2, h3 {text-align:center;} -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water-Finders, by Unknown - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Water-Finders - -Author: Unknown - -Release Date: September 8, 2017 [EBook #55506] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-FINDERS *** - - - - -Produced by Jeff Hunt - - - - - -</pre> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: The author is not named and has not been located elsewhere. Dialect spelling is copied faithfully.]</p> - -<center><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="50%" alt="Cover of 'The Water-Finders'" title="The Cover of 'The Water-Finders'"></center> -<h1>THE WATER-FINDERS</h1> -<h1>By the Author of 'Two of a Trade'</h1> -<h2>LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK THOMAS NELSON AND SONS</h2> - -<center><img src="images/front.jpg" width="70%" alt="Frontispiece: Three men hung over the bridge." title="Frontispiece: Three men hung over the bridge."></center> -<p>---------</p> -<br> -<br> - -<p> CONTENTS.<br> - ---<br> - <a href="#c1">I. Willowton in Trouble</a><br> - <a href="#c2">II. The Chapman Family</a><br> - <a href="#c3">III. The Dowser</a><br> - <a href="#c4"> IV. The Search for Water</a><br> - <a href="#c5">V. Old Jimmy's Scruples</a><br> - <a href="#c6">VI. Public Opinion on the Bridge</a><br> - <a href="#c7">VII. Tom Chapman "Takes on" at the Well</a><br> - <a href="#c8">VIII. A Neighbourly Action</a><br> - <a href="#c9">IX Nurse Blunt Arrives</a><br> - <a href="#c10">X. Another Fever Victim</a><br> - <a href="#c11">XI. The Strike at the Well</a><br> - <a href="#c12">XII. Back to the Work</a><br> - <a href="#c13">XIII. Rain at Last</a><br> - <a href="#c14">XIV. The Collapse</a><br> - <a href="#c15">XV. Friends in Need</a><br> - <a href="#c16">XVI An Anxious Sunday</a><br> - <a href="#c17">XVII Geo to the Fore Again</a><br> - <a href="#c18">XVIII The Rescue</a><br> - <a href="#c19">XIX Geo again Surprises Himself and his -Friends</a><br> - <a href="#c20">XX Conclusion</a></p> - - -<h2>THE WATER-FINDERS</h2> - -<p>----</p> -<br><br><br> -<h3 id="c1">CHAPTER I.</h3> - -<h3>WILLOWTON IS IN TROUBLE</h3> - - - -<p>Willowton is a village of some seventeen thousand population, -large enough for the inhabitants to talk of "going up the town" -when they mean the broad main street which stands on a gentle -slope leading from the railway station to the church. This -street, which is paved at the sides with nice old-world, -ankle-twisting cobbles, boasts of two drapers', a chemist's, a -saddler's, grocer's, and bootmaker's shops. Away in the less -aristocratic parts of the village are the butchers and bakers, -and the miscellaneous stores so dear to the country housewives. -About the middle of the town, in the very widest part, is the -bridge, and close to the bridge itself is the Wild Swan -public-house, or rather <i>hotel</i>, as it calls itself. The -little stream that runs under the bridge comes along through -miles of cool meadows, now golden with buttercups, for it is May. -It comes through many gardens and orchards, now white with apple -blossom; and when it leaves the bridge it burrows underground for -some little distance, and reappears at the foot of the cottage -gardens, to lose itself in pleasant meandering through more -flowery meadows, till it passes out of the ken of Heigham folks, -and out of our story's picture.</p> - -<p>It was noon, and the sun was hot and the stream was low. There -had been no rain for several weeks. The March winds had blown the -seeds about; the wheat even drooped in the fields; April had -refused her usual showers, and there was a dry, parched look -everywhere while yet it was only May. Three men hung over the -bridge, lazily resting their elbows on the parapet, and looking -down into the water below at a large trout that was lying under a -stone, waiting his opportunity to make his way further upstream -to a deeper pool under the garden bank. Of these three "loafers," -as the neighbours called them, one was a strong, well-built young -man of one or two-and-twenty. His flushed face betrayed the fact -that he had already visited the Wild Swan over the way; his great -strong limbs were loosely knit; his big hands showed little signs -of work; his lazy blue eyes looked as if they had never done -anything more harmful or more useful than watch for trout.</p> - -<p>Willowton is a village of some seventeen thousand population, -large enough for the inhabitants to talk of "going up the town" -when they mean the broad main street which stands on a gentle -slope leading from the railway station to the church. This -street, which is paved at the sides with nice old-world, -ankle-twisting cobbles, boasts of two drapers', a chemist's, a -saddler's, grocer's, and bootmaker's shops. Away in the less -aristocratic parts of the village are the butchers and bakers, -and the miscellaneous stores so dear to the country housewives. -About the middle of the town, in the very widest part, is the -bridge, and close to the bridge itself is the Wild Swan -public-house, or rather <i>hotel</i>, as it calls itself. The -little stream that runs under the bridge comes along through -miles of cool meadows, now golden with buttercups, for it is May. -It comes through many gardens and orchards, now white with apple -blossom; and when it leaves the bridge it burrows underground for -some little distance, and reappears at the foot of the cottage -gardens, to lose itself in pleasant meandering through more -flowery meadows, till it passes out of the ken of Heigham folks, -and out of our story's picture.</p> - -<p>It was noon, and the sun was hot and the stream was low. There -had been no rain for several weeks. The March winds had blown the -seeds about; the wheat even drooped in the fields; April had -refused her usual showers, and there was a dry, parched look -everywhere while yet it was only May. Three men hung over the -bridge, lazily resting their elbows on the parapet, and looking -down into the water below at a large trout that was lying under a -stone, waiting his opportunity to make his way further upstream -to a deeper pool under the garden bank. Of these three "loafers," -as the neighbours called them, one was a strong, well-built young -man of one or two-and-twenty. His flushed face betrayed the fact -that he had already visited the Wild Swan over the way; his great -strong limbs were loosely knit; his big hands showed little signs -of work; his lazy blue eyes looked as if they had never done -anything more harmful or more useful than watch for trout.</p> - -<p>His companions were of a different type. One was a -discontented, surly-looking man of perhaps sixty years of age. He -was reported to have been a great traveller. He certainly had -been to America, to Australia, and to various ports in Europe, in -his position as stoker on a merchant vessel; and he had seen a -good deal of the seamy side of life, but not so much as he wished -his listeners to believe, and was as bad a companion for a young -fellow like George Lummis as could well be. The third man was a -cripple. He came out daily on his crutches, and took up his -position in the angle of the stone support, which stood out from -the bridge a foot of so on to the road. He had a mild, weak face, -in which a life's physical suffering was plainly to be read. He -had never been of any use to anybody so far, and as far as his -acquaintances knew, he had never had any desire to be so. The -strongest feeling he possessed was an intense affection and -admiration for the great, hulking, lazy six feet of humanity -beside him.</p> - -<p>The three men were in their own way discussing the general -prosperity of the village, and abusing the district council, the -parson, the doctor, the farmers, and, indeed, everybody who was -at all better off or of more consequence than themselves. They -were not speaking with any particular virulence, nor were they -arguing their points with any warmth; they were only repeating a -sort of formula they went through periodically whenever the -occasion cropped up. They each knew exactly what the other would -say. They had all three heard it so very many times before, and -they had their answers all cut and dried, and ready for immediate -use. The only variety was that sometimes they began with the -parson and ended with the doctor, and sometimes they began with -the doctor and ended with the parson. It was all chance, just -whichever happened to go over the bridge first.</p> - -<p>"There he goo!" they would ejaculate, often loud enough for -the object of their remarks to hear, "a-drivin' in 'is carriage -with a 'orse and liv'ry sarvent, all paid for out o' our club -money, that's how that is. And what does he do for it, I should -like yew jest te tell me?" etc., etc., etc., <i>ad lib</i>.</p> - -<p>This, of course, if the passer-by happened to be the doctor; -if, on the other hand, it was he vicar, it would be,—-</p> - -<p>"There goo th' parson, pore, hard-workin' chap! Two hundred -and fifty pound a year for preachin' t' us of a Sunday—an' -a lot o' good that dew us! I'd just like to have him aboard our -ship for a fortnight. I'd teach him t' interfere, with his -imperence."</p> - -<p>It was the "traveller" who generally originated these remarks. -The cripple always made a point of assenting; he wished to be -agreeable, for the traveller was open-handed as well as -long-tongued, and a quid of tobacco often found its way into the -cripple's pocket after a prolonged debate, in which he took so -prominent and important a part.</p> - -<p>On these occasions George Lummis seldom did more than laugh a -short laugh, when he thought it incumbent on him to do so, or -even lift a faint protest when his sense of justice smote him -(for he <i>had</i> some sense of justice); and it was not so very -many years ago that he was a schoolboy, and if he chose to exert -his memory he could have told of many kindnesses he had received -fro the late vicar and his family, and from that very doctor whom -he allowed to be abused so roundly, who had pulled him through a -bad attack of typhoid fever when he was a boy of sixteen. "And to -very little purpose," the doctor would say to himself sometimes -as he drove over the bridge and saw him loafing away the best -years of his life with his good-for-nothing companions. "For his -own sake I had almost better have let him die."</p> - -<p>On this particular morning it was the vicar who passed first. -He walked slowly and heavily, for he was carrying a weight. The -perspiration stood in beads on his forehead, and his straw hat -had got pushed back from his brow, so that the full blaze of the -sun beat down on his forehead, from which the hair was beginning -to recede—"slipping back" he would explain laughingly, "not -falling off, forsooth!" His burden, which was in reality a big -well-grown boy of fourteen, in the first stage of fever, was -wrapped in a big, not overclean-looking blanket, and in his -weakness he was unable to assist his bearer to carry him, and, -indeed, with the best of intentions, was almost as dead a weight -as if he had been in a faint.</p> - -<p>As the vicar passed over the bridge he kept his eyes fixed -straight in front of him. Neither by look nor by gesture did he -ask the loungers there to help him, and no one offered to lend a -hand. His strength, great as it was, was almost spent when he -reached the hospital and gave over his patient to the doctor's -charge, and he sat down with a sigh of relief on the wooden -settle in the hall. It was cool and fresh in here, almost cold -coming out of the dust and the sun. He wiped his brow with his -handkerchief; the portress brought him a glass of water.</p> - -<p>"Too hot yet, Mrs. Smith," he said. "I'll wait till I've -cooled down; but I'm as thirsty as a fish!"</p> - -<p>"And no wonder!" said the matron tartly, but not without a -note of admiration in her tones; "I never heard such nonsense. -Why couldn't the boy be brought in the ambulance like anybody -else, I should like to know, without you having to carry him as -if he was a baby! I haven't any patience with those Chapmans, -that I haven't!"</p> - -<p>"Well, nor have I—much," said the vicar reflectively. -"That woman is the dirtiest of the whole row. It would be hard to -beat her in the parish; but there is something about her—I -don't know what it is. She never tells me lies or makes excuses; -she never begs, and never complains of other people's good -fortune, and is always good-tempered—bother her! She would -be so much easier to influence if she had a spice of temper, -wouldn't she—eh, Mrs. Smith?" with a twinkle in his big -brown eyes; for Mrs. Smith had the defects of her qualities, and -possessed the hasty temper that goes so often with a warm heart. -"But I must be off. Let Tommy know that I'll call in and see him -some time in the afternoon, and hope I shall find him in clover. -No, I won't wait for the doctor; I know pretty well what he'll -say. I'll be off," and the vicar tossed off his glass of water, -put on his hat, this time well tilted over his eyes, and strode -down the hill for the second time that morning.</p> - -<p>His return road lay through the buttercup meadows and over the -stream by a little foot-bridge into the village. He passed a long -row of well-to-do, prosperous-looking cottages, with bright -little gardens in front of them, and the running stream behind -them. At the gate of one of these a young girl was standing -shading her eyes from the sun. She made a pretty picture in her -big shady hat and print blouse, short skirt, blue linen apron, -her sleeves rolled up, showing a pair of nice plump arms; for -Milly was washing to-day, and was not ashamed to be seen at -it.</p> - -<p>She had a paper in her hand, and was watching for the vicar. -Overhead the lilacs and laburnums were fading in the drought, and -the few flowers that had come to maturity were dying off before -their time. So intent was the vicar on his own thoughts that he -was striding past without seeing her.</p> - -<p>"A letter, sir!" she cried out, holding it out to him over the -palings.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Mr. Rutland took it and broke the seal.</p> - -<p>It was a summons to attend a committee meeting of the sanitary -board, now sitting at the Union—an informal meeting hastily -convened owing to the pressing state of affairs, and to the -somewhat unexpected reappearance of the sanitary inspector.</p> - -<p>"Where's your grandfather?" he asked, folding the paper and -putting it in his pocket.</p> - -<p>"He's gone to toll again. Young Flower is dead."</p> - -<p>The vicar made a gesture of dismay.</p> - -<p>"You don't say so! I was with him most of the night. I hoped -he was going to pull through. Ah, well!" But turning to Milly -again, "Tell Jimmy when he comes in to let my housekeeper know I -shan't be back," taking out his watch, "much before two o'clock, -and I'll get some bread and cheese at the Union. She needn't -think about me. Good-morning," and he went on with a nod.</p> - -<p>"Good-morning, sir," said Milly demurely, and with a pretty -little inclination of her head. Milly was too old to curtsy now, -though the school children at Willowton, as indeed all the -villages in East Anglia, still keep up the pretty custom of the -old-world curtsey. Milly was nearly seventeen, and kept house for -her old grandfather, who was parish sexton, clerk, or verger, or -all three, just as it pleased him to call himself.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c2">CHAPTER II.</h3> - -<h3>THE CHAPMAN FAMILY.</h3> - -<p>The Chapmans were a large family, and every year a new little -Chapman appeared upon the scene; consequently every year there -was a new mouth to feed, and wages, of course, remained much the -same. Tom Chapman had married his wife (a girl working in a jam -factory in a neighbouring town) when he was nineteen and she was -only seventeen. They had muddled along ever since. Tom was as -hard-working as most of his acquaintances, which is perhaps not -saying much, for they had a rooted objection to what they called -a "wet jacket," and seldom worked hard enough to get -uncomfortably hot; but still he was an honest, well-meaning man, -and if he had a strong feelings on the subject of working over -hours on special occasions, and saw no particular reason why he -should put himself out to benefit his masters, why, as I said -before, he was not in that respect different from his -friends.</p> - -<p>Poor Annie, his wife, was a patient, hard-working, ignorant -woman. She had once been pretty, but many children and growing -poverty had made her at the age of seven-and-twenty look like -most women of forty. She was worn and thin, and was untidy; she -was unrefined in her ways and uncouth in her speech; she was -badly educated, having been idle at school, and forgotten what -little her teachers managed to knock into her unwilling head; but -for all this she managed to retain her husband's affection, and -to keep him from the public-house. The vicar, who was a bachelor -himself, often wondered why Tom Chapman was one of the steadiest -young men in the parish, and why he always spent his evenings at -home with "such a wife" as he had, and in such a pigsty of a -house; for I grieve to say cleanliness in her household was far -from being a virtue of Mrs. Chapman's. The house stood at the -bottom of Gravel-pit Lane, and was the first of a row of cottages -that crept up the steep little hill that led away from the -vicarage into the buttercup meadows. The stream did not come -anywhere near Gravel-pit Lane, and the water supply was never -very good—one well having to serve eight or ten cottages -with water; and this year, owing to the unprecedented dryness of -the spring, the well was nearly empty. Small wonder, then, that -the little Chapmans were even less well washed than usual, and -that their dirty pinafores were an ever-increasing source of -annoyance to the schoolmistress.</p> - -<p>It was from this house that the vicar had carried off the -patient for the little fever hospital on the side hill above the -village. This fever hospital was a pet scheme of his and the -doctor's. All through the dry spring they had been prophesying -trouble, and had made themselves unpopular in consequence. Now, -popularity is a very pleasant thing, and a very useful thing; but -there are things better than popularity. Popularity is a fickle, -faithless jade. She comes often unbidden and unsought, and sits -down by a man's side, and while she is there he may do what he -likes. He may scold people for not giving enough in church, he -may forget to answer invitations, he may even lose his temper, -and say all sorts of things he doesn't mean; but once Madam -Popularity has left him, or even shown any signs of approaching -departure, this same man may no longer ask your assistance in his -charities. He may never offer you advice, or criticise your -actions; he may scarcely even presume to wish you good-morning, -and when he comes to see you, you imagine he comes to pry into -your private affairs. If he gives your boy a penny for opening a -gate for him, you are certain he is "up to suffin'," and the -luckless penny is nothing but bribery and corruption; in short, -all that was right and commendable before is wrong and -reprehensible now.</p> - -<p>It was this that had happened to the vicar of Willowton, and -strangely enough, everybody knew it but the vicar! He was far too -busy attending to his duties and succouring his people, body and -soul, to feel any changes of temperature; and if he had, I will -not exactly say that he would not have cared (for, of course, he -would; he would not have been human if he had not), but it would -have made no difference; he would have persevered in his course -just the same. He was, he would have said, "about his Master's -work," and it would never have occurred to him to alter his ways -once he had made up his mind he was right.</p> - -<p>The reason of his unpopularity was not difficult to -determine—he had been preaching a crusade against dirt and -unthriftiness. He had foretold in forcible language, from the -pulpit as well as elsewhere, the coming epidemic, which the -sanitary commissioner had declared inevitable, with the village -in such a shocking state of insanitariness. The inspector called -the houses "unsanitary," the vicar called them "dirty"—that -was the difference. There was a very great difference between the -sound of these two swords, and the vicar made the fatal mistake -of using the wrong one. It was a pity, but the vicar was very -outspoken, very impetuous, very straightforward. He had said so -many times before, and nobody had ever even dreamt of taking -offence. They knew it was true, and they were so used to it that -they never thought of objecting to hearing the truth blurted out -in his good-humoured, friendly manner—never till Corkam -came back after his thirty-five years of "foreign travel."</p> - -<p>"How you do truckle to that chap!" he would say to the men who -touched their hats respectfully to him as he passed. "You think, -he was cap'en on a wessel at least, and bos'un tight and -midshipmite inter ther bargain. Blessed if I are goin' ter knock -under to the parson, or a whole cargo o' parsons! that I won't; -so there!" and Corkam would lean his elbows on the parapet of the -bridge behind him, and stand with an impudent sneer on his -coarse, flabby lips at the unsuspecting vicar as he passed.</p> - -<p>Corkam had "no manners," he thought; "but one mustn't judge -too much by appearances, and probably," he would tell himself, if -Corkham's rudeness was more than usually aggressive, "he was much -better than he looked." For the vicar's creed was of the -thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians order—of the kind -that believeth all things, and hopeth all things; and after all -there is nothing like hope in the world. It is so perennial, if -you are disappointed in your hopes about one thing, you can -always go on hoping about another. And the vicar was very happy -in his hopes, though they were often doomed to disappointment. He -had good health, good spirits, and a good conscience, and he -scarcely knew what it was to have a headache or endure a -sleepless night. Truly "a man to be envied," his friend the -doctor said, "and there are not many like him!"</p> - -<p>The vicarage was a small house—a great many gables and -very small rooms, all except the hall, which was a large, -low-roofed, roomy apartment, with black oak beams supporting the -uneven white-washed ceiling. A great gilt-faced grandfather's -clock stood in one corner on the right-hand side of the -fireplace, which was one of those delightful Queen Anne, -urn-shaped grates, with high hobs on either side, on which the -vicar's housekeeper kept her master's coffee, or soup, or cocoa, -as the case might be, warm when he failed to come in for his -meals, which was no uncommon occurrence, especially since the -outbreak of the fever, when, as the long-suffering woman -constantly complained, "he don't never show his face till the -meat is cooked to a cinder, or the water for his tea has boiled -itself flat."</p> - -<p>The vicarage garden ran down to the churchyard on one side, -and was bordered on the other by the ubiquitous little stream -that wound itself in and out through the village like a shining -ribbon. The flowers in the vicar's garden were mostly quaint, -old-fashioned things. He knew nothing about flowers himself, but -his housekeeper did, and he had the advantage of succeeding a man -who had a passion for gardening, and who had stocked the place -with bulbs, innumerable tulips, daffodils, crocuses, snowdrops, -and aconites, and little old-world hepatica and grape hyacinths. -While against the high brick wall, now mellowed with time, were -old single pink peonies, great yellow tiger lilies, and mulleins, -just coming out over the porch the blue wisteria did her best to -flower, but perished in the attempt; while the tropeolum, and -other creeping things that Mrs. Crowe had grown so successfully -every year against the trellis, died off before they began to -climb. It was as if the fever had touched them too, poor things; -though Mrs. Crowe did surreptitiously fill her watering-pot at -the stream and water them ever evening when the vicar was out of -the way; for that gentleman was a very dragon over the water, and -the stream, as I said before, was getting daily lower and lower, -and water scarcer and scarcer.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c3">CHAPTER III.</h3> - -<h3>THE DOWSER.</h3> - -<p>The meeting at the Union, mentioned in the first chapter, was -stormy, but it resulted in victory. The sudden summoning of the -principal people in the parish was occasioned by the appearance -of a "water-finder." This the chairman, a gentleman farmer of -some local importance, well known in the hunting field, proceeded -to explain in a disjointed, halting, and somewhat unconvincing -manner. It was evident that he was half ashamed of yielding to -what he knew most of his hearers would term foolish superstition, -and others would fear as savouring of witchcraft and other -forbidden things.</p> - -<p>The meeting was an open one, concerning as it did, all the -parish; and among others our three "loafers" of the bridge had -strolled in, and sitting down on a back seat prepared to hear -what was going to be said. They had come in from very different -motives, and kept together from force of habit. The cripple had -come because he wisely never omitted to attend anything that -would afford him entertainment and change from the dull monotony -of his days; the ex-seaman came, as usual, in the spirit of -opposition, with the full determination of opposing whatever -decision the authorities should come to; and George accompanied -them merely because they asked him.</p> - -<p>Mr. Rutland, who was late, as we know, slipped in quietly, and -took a seat on a bench which was placed along the side of the -room. The water-finder had just stepped on to the platform, and -with a little nervous cough was beginning to explain his mission. -He was a slight, spare man, of perhaps thirty years of age, with -an extraordinarily sensitive face—the sort of look one sees -sometimes in a great musician or dreamer—his hair fairish, -inclined to red, and his complexion that which goes with such -hair. There was nothing else remarkable about him but his hands, -which were delicately formed, yet strong and nervous. His voice -was low and pleasant, but he spoke with some hesitation, and had -not the air of confidence that accompanies the necromancer or -conjurer.</p> - -<p>The vicar's keen eye took in all this at a glance, and he -involuntarily turned to the audience to see how they took him. -His eye fell on the three men on the bench at right angles with -him. He saw Corkam arrange his face in the supercilious sneer he -knew so well. He saw Farley dart a look at him to get his "cue," -and then twist his own poor, pinched features into the best -imitation of his "friend's" that he could accomplish. The effect -was so completely artificial that the vicar could not restrain a -smile of amusement. George's fair, good-natured face expressed -absolutely nothing.</p> - -<p>The water-finder's words were very simple. He protested -nothing, and promised nothing. He had discovered a few years ago, -he said, that he had the gift of finding water in unexpected -places. His powers were not infallible, he explained, but were -dependent on many things, the nature of which he was unable to -determine. Possibly it was the condition of the atmosphere, -possibly the state of his own health, possibly the influence of -want of faith in the people who accompanied him on his -quest—he was unable to account for it—but certainly -there were times when he had failed.</p> - -<p>At this point his audience shuffled impatiently with their -feet, and sundry little grunts and groans were heard, and the -short artificial laugh of Farley was plainly distinguishable. The -water-finder ran his mild, dreamy eyes along the benches, passed -without interest over Farley and Corkam, and rested for a moment -on Geo.</p> - -<p>He had heard, he said, of the dreadful pass that Heigham was -likely to come to for want of water, and being in the -neighbourhood on a visit to some relations, had called on Mr. -Barlow and offered his services. It was for this meeting, he -understood, to reject or accept them. He had nothing more to -say.</p> - -<p>Mr. Barlow then rose and proposed a show of hands. This was -the signal for a general uproar, and perhaps a dozen or so hands -were lifted. The water-finder looked disappointed, the chairman -angry, and rough words were shouted from the audience.</p> - -<p>"We don't want no palaverin', conjurin' chaps here," shouted -some. "Down with the sin of witchcraft!" shouted another. "Duck -'im in a 'orse pond, same as they did time agone," shouted the -village wag. "My, I'll make 'im swim!"</p> - -<p>At this juncture the vicar walked up the room, and by a sign -from the chairman stepped on to the platform.</p> - -<p>"We don't want no parsons neither," shouted a ne'er-do-well, -who had had a drop on his way; but the parson, if he had lost his -popularity, had not lost his power of engaging attention. The -chairman rang his bell to secure silence, and a voice from the -back of the room shouted "Hear, hear!"</p> - -<p>"It seems to me," said the vicar, "that all we want is water. -It is with the hope of finding a solution to our terrible -difficulty that we are met here to-day. Everything, as you all -know, that ordinary science and knowledge can show us has been -exhausted, and with no result. We are in desperate case. We 'must -have water, or we die.' It is true that our stream still runs, -and some of our wells yield water; but it is polluted, and breeds -fever in those who drink it. But all this is well known; it is -idle to recapitulate it. I take it that all we have to decide is -whether we accept Mr. Wilman's offer or not. I think there can -be no doubt about it. 'The drowning man catches at a straw.' (Mr. -Wilman will forgive the allusion.) I trust he is no straw; but, -humanly speaking, we are undoubtedly 'drowning men.' It seems to -me there is no 'conjuring' or 'witchcraft' about his thing. God -has given us all certain powers—'divers gifts' as the Bible -has it—and just because we do not understand or cannot -explain this reputed gift of water-finding, why reject the -possibility of it in our hour of need? Let us give Mr. Wilman a -fair trial; let him do his best, and if he fails, well, we are in -no worse plight that we were before."</p> - -<p>The vicar stepped down amid dead silence; his words had not -had time to sink in. The chairman rose.</p> - -<p>"Gentlemen," he said, "my mind is made up. Mr Wilman has free -leave to come over my land and find us water where he can. I -can't let ignorance or blind prejudice stand in his way. I -completely endorse all the vicar's words."</p> - -<p>"And I too," and a burly Nonconformist tradesman stepped up; -"and I'll give you twenty pounds towards the expenses of sinking -the well."</p> - -<p>Ten minutes after this sixty pounds had been subscribed by the -influential people present. The meeting was broken up, and the -water-finder was casting his eye once more over the audience to -select his companions in the quest.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Barlow will come with me, and I should be glad if you -would too, sir," he said to the vicar, who was making his way -out.</p> - -<p>"I only wish I could," he replied heartily—"it would -give me the greatest pleasure; but I have got to take two -funerals this afternoon, and I must run home and get something to -eat first. Many thanks, all the same, and I need scarcely say how -anxiously I shall look for the result of your trial."</p> - -<p>He hurried off as he spoke, and Mr. Barlow and the -water-finder walked slowly up the street behind him, and -disappeared into the former's house.</p> - -<p>An hour later they emerged and walked up the street.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c4">CHAPTER IV.</h3> - -<h3>THE SEARCH FOR WATER</h3> - -<p>It will readily be imagined that the "dowser," as he called -himself, was not allowed to go on his quest accompanied only by -Mr. Barlow. He was followed, as was only natural, at a fairly -respectable distance, by by a selection of all the idle boys and -girls in Willowton, and for once Geo Lummis had deserted his -friends on the bridge, and followed the little crowd leisurely in -the rear, with his hands in his pockets, and his hat tilted at -the back of his head.</p> - -<p>The water-finder carried in his hand a freshly-cut hazel rod, -which he had brought from Mr. Barlow's garden. It was about two -feet long, and forked at one end. He held it, point downwards, -straight in front of him, with a "prong" in each hand, and he -walked at a fair pace, his eyes fixed on the rod, and preserving -a dead silence.</p> - -<p>As he went the little procession followed him up the main -street over the bridge nearly as far as Gravel-pit Lane. Here the -lookers-on noticed the hazel twig jerk outwards unmistakably. Mr. -Barlow, who was walking abreast of him, sent an inquiring glance -at him.</p> - -<p>"Only drain water," said the dowser laconically, without -slackening his pace.</p> - -<p>A few more steps brought him to the bottom of Gravel-pit Lane, -and Annie Chapman, with a tribe of dirty, bright-eyed children -clinging to her bedraggled skirts, came out to see the fun. The -sun had gone in, and a sort of thick heat-mist pervaded -everything. It was the sort of afternoon that during any other -summer than that of 1901 would have ended in a thunderstorm; but -it seemed as if the clouds had forgotten how to rain, and the -parched ground looked thirstier than ever, while an unsavoury -drainy smell rose from the cluster of infected houses.</p> - -<p>In the garden of the Chapman's house was a condemned well, -now, fortunately perhaps, dry. A wooden cover was over the -brickwork, and it was safely padlocked. Annie and her brood -rested against this as they watched the dowser advancing.</p> - -<p>He made straight for her gate. At a sign from her one of the -children opened it, and he and Mr. Barlow passed through; the -crowd remained outside. The door into the untidy sitting-room was -open, and without a "with your leave" or "by your leave" the -water-finder passed in, the twig jerking violently all the time. -Annie coloured, and sprang towards the house. Mr. Barlow, who was -following mechanically, stopped. "An Englishman's house is his -castle." He waited for permission. Annie was always hospitable in -spite of what to her was a sudden inexplicable feeling of shame -that the gentlemen should see what a pigsty the house was. She -smiled, however, as she held open the door, and drew her fairly -clean apron as far over her dress as she could.</p> - -<p>"Go you in, sir," she said; "though God a'mighty knows what -he's after there, I don't."</p> - -<p>Before Mr. Barlow could take advantage of her invitation, -however, the dowser had passed out through the little kitchen -into the yard behind, where, stumbling along over Annie's pots -and pans and other utensils, which were everywhere but where they -ought to be, he stopped short at a high privet fence, neatly -clipped; for with the backyard Annie's dominion ended and Tom's -began, so the fences and the gate and the palings were in good -order. There was no getting over this fence; it ran all the -length of the row of houses. The dowser retraced his steps, and -led by Mr. Barlow soon reappeared by a circuitous route at the -opposite side of the fence. Annie and her children made a big -hole in the dusty green of it and peered through.</p> - -<p>Behind this hedge was a small piece of waste land, or common, -where the boys played desultory games of cricket in the hot -evenings; and when there was any feed at all on it, the few -people who owned donkeys in Willowton turned them out to graze. -Just now it was as hard brickbats and guiltless of any signs of -green. All the way across this piece the rod jerked and -twisted.</p> - -<p>"There is water here," the dowser said, stopping and wiping -his brow. He looked exhausted, and sat down on the bank that ran -along the top of the rather shallow gravel-pit that gave the name -to the place. "The spring is a deep one, too," he continued -thoughtfully—"perhaps eighty or a hundred feet below the -surface; but it is a bad place for sinking a well—too -dangerous by far with all this gravel. We will try somewhere -else."</p> - -<p>At Mr. Barlow's request, however, he marked the spot with a -large stone, for it was impossible to put a stick in the hard -ground.</p> - -<p>"How do you know what depth it is down, may I ask?" said the -farmer politely; and the crowd of boys and girls listened eagerly -for the answer, and none more eagerly than Geo, who stood a -little aloof with an unusual alertness in his bearing.</p> - -<p>"I know in this way," said the dowser, taking up his twig -which he had laid down for a moment and standing over the place -indicated. "I judge by the distance from it at which the rod is -influenced. Deep-lying water affects a smaller area than that -which is nearer the surface. My rod, as I daresay you observed, -began to jerk before we reached yonder cottage," pointing back at -the Chapman's house. "That must be a couple of hundred yards or -more away. No," he added in answer to further questions, "I don't -go by any exact scale of measurement. Other people may do so, but -I don't. Experience enables me to be pretty certain about it, -and I trust to that."</p> - -<p>Geo was so intensely interested at this conversation that he -could not help advancing nearer than manners permitted. The -dowser noticed him.</p> - -<p>"I think I saw you at the meeting," he said, looking kindly at -him. "Have you ever seen water found like this before?"</p> - -<p>Geo touched his hat respectfully.</p> - -<p>"No, sir," he said, "that I hain't. That's the most wonderful -thing I ever see in my life."</p> - -<p>The dowser smiled.</p> - -<p>"It does not seem so wonderful to me," he said. "I come of a -family of dowsers. My father was one before me, and my -grandfather, and I have a sister with the same gift, though I -have but lately discovered my own power. There are a good many -of us in the south-west of England—Wiltshire, Dorset, -Cornwall; I am a Wilts man myself."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed, sir," said Geo because he had nothing else to -say.</p> - -<p>"You do it professionally, I conclude, then?" said Mr. -Barlow, inwardly quaking lest Mr. Wilman should demand an -exorbitant fee.</p> - -<p>"Dear me, no—not at all. I do it quite in an amateur -way, just for the love of it. A man must sometimes help his -fellow-creatures. I am not a rich man. I can't do much in the way -of money, but having this gift, I occasionally make use of it. I -was taking a holiday just now. I am on a motor car with a friend, -and we are stopping a few days in your neighbourhood. I heard of -your difficulties, as I think I mentioned at your meeting, and -saw my opportunity for indulging in my hobby. When I am at home I -am a very busy man, Mr. Barlow. I am sub-agent to Lord -Atherthy."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, sir, indeed," said Mr. Barlow, with considerable -relief and a palpable increase of respect. "And I'm sure it is -very kind of you. We are as a parish immensely indebted to you; -at least, ahem, we shall be when—-"</p> - -<p>"When I find the water, eh? Well, I am not content with this -place. I am rested now; I think we'll go on.—You, young -man," addressing Geo, "can come alongside if you like, but not -too near. Keep, like Mr. Barlow, a few paces behind me."</p> - -<p>So once more the procession moved on, and the dowser, after -walking perhaps some hundred yards away from the place where he -professed to have discovered a spring, took up his rod in his -accustomed way and strode on.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c5">CHAPTER V.</h3> - -<h3>OLD JIMMY'S SCRUPLES</h3> - -<p>In the meantime the vicar had eaten a hurried luncheon of -bread and cheese in the master's room, and leaving the Union -walked quickly down to the church. He had barely time to put on -his surplus and stole when the mournful procession came in sight; -and with a sad heart he went to meet it, reading, of course, as -he went the opening sentences of our beautiful burial service for -two more victims of the epidemic—a young girl and a child -from Gravel-pit Lane.</p> - -<p>After the service, when he once more emerged from the vestry, -he was followed by the old man in whose person were embodied the -three offices of verger, sexton, and clerk—"Jimmy the -clerk," as the parish dubbed him.</p> - -<p>If anybody had asked me to point out a few of the "characters" -which are to be found in every village as well as in Willowton, I -think, without hesitation, I should have begun with Jimmy -Greenacre. I do not know if I shall be able to show you dear old -Jimmy just as I saw him, because his quaintness was a great deal -made up of a whimsical twist of his funny old face, a touch of -humour in the turn of his sentences, and an absurd habit of -gabbling his information like an eager child who has been given a -few minutes only to say his say—a habit partly the result -of having only three or four teeth left in his head, and partly -from a laudable desire to use the best and most appropriate words -in conversation with those he was pleased to look upon as his -betters.</p> - -<p>In person he was rather inclined to be tall, spare, and -sinewy; his hair was thick, and still dark in spite of his -seventy-three years; and being an economical gentleman, he was -not as intimately acquainted with the barber as the vicar would -have liked, but his rugged-lined old face was clean shaven, and -tanned to a deep mahogany. He walked with the slow, rather -shuffling gait of the agricultural labourer, and stooped a little -from the shoulders with the stoop that comes of hard work in -early youth. Jimmy had been born and bred in Willowton, and he -was destined to die there. In his humble way he was a perfect -walking De Brett: he knew the family history of every man, woman, -and child in the place, and that of their forebears for the last -two generations or more—some people said his memory was far -too good! But if they had only known it, they themselves had -benefited oftentimes by that same memory. To the vicar he was -invaluable. The late incumbent had died very suddenly, and his -wife had followed him within a few days. They had no children, -and but for old Jimmy, Mr. Rutland would have had to find out -everything for himself. But Jimmy knew the ropes, and taught the -new vicar to put his hands on them. "Jimmy is as good as a curate -to me any day!" the vicar would say with a kindly hand on the old -man's shoulder when he introduced him to any of his friends; and -old Jimmy would slip away with a pleased chuckle and a modest, -"No, no, master; but I does my best, and a carn't due no -more—so I carn't." Nor could he.</p> - -<p>It was due to this passion for genealogies on the part of the -old man that he took such a lively interest in Geo Lummis, the -"laziest booy," as he termed him in his own mind, in -Willowton.</p> - -<p>"That there chap harn't got a chance, that he harn't," he -would tell the vicar. "His fayther was jist sich another, and his -grandfa' afore him—poochin', good-fur-noethin's booth on -'em! messin' about all day a' the bridge, and creepin' out a' -nights after the trout—ticklin' of 'em, yer mind, and -layin' abed the best o' ther mornin' afterwards. This here -booy—why, Mr. Morse, he took a likin' tew 'um, and had 'um -up here teachin' of 'um all manner a' things. He set 'im tew a -trade along av a carpenter in Walden; but he was sune back agen, -an' dun no good at all! And here he be, herdin' along a' that -scum Corkam, and talkin' all manner a' rubbidge along a' him. His -mother's ter blame, I say. She knew well enow how it was with her -husband, and here's she a-lettin' a' the booy go th' same way. -But there, what can yew expect a' her when yew cum to recollect -that her mother, Mary Anne, was—" But when Jimmy went into -the next generation the vicar was apt to interrupt him, for he -was an impetuous, hasty young man, and not so good a listener as -the old man would have wished him to be.</p> - -<p> But on this occasion Jimmy's words commanded attention.</p> - -<p>"Look yew there sir!" he exclaimed in a hollow tone, grasping -the vicar's arm, and pointing with a gnarled old finger that -shook partly from age and partly from excitement—"look you -there, sir! There go Mosus to strike th' rock. 'Must we find you -water?' he say; and yer know what happened tew 'um, yer know, and -so dew he—well!" and Jimmy threw out both hands with a -gesture that implied that he, at least, would have no traffic -with such evil doings.</p> - -<p>Mr. Wilman and his following had just come over the common, -and were bearing down again on the village, and the vicar was all -eagerness to join them. It was tiresome of Jimmy to detain him -just now, and Jimmy was as difficult to shake off as a terrier -with a rat.</p> - -<p>"You'll be thankful enough to drink the clear water when we -get it, I'll be bound. And as for the means, it isn't for you or -me either to criticise Mr. Wilman. God has given him apparently -an unusual gift, and he is going to use it for our good. Be off -with you and cut the grass, you old goose."</p> - -<p>"Cut the grass! He, he!" This was a little joke between the -vicar and the clerk, and Jimmy never failed to laugh at the -sarcasm (it had been so long since there had been a blade of -grass to cut). "Well, well, let his punishment fall on his own -hid!" said Jimmy piously.</p> - -<p>"Jimmy," said the vicar, quite seriously this time, "if I -wasn't a parson, I should tell you you're a regular old fool. -There's a proverb somewhere (you won't find it in the Bible, so -don't think you've caught me tripping) that says, 'God helps -those who help themselves;' and do you honestly tell me that if -we kneel down every Sunday and pray for rain, and don't accept -every chance of getting good water that God puts in our way, that -He will pay any heed to us? Must we have it in our own special -way, or not at all? Jimmy, Jimmy, your argument won't hold water; -you'd better come with me and see how it's done."</p> - -<p>But Jimmy scorned the suggestion, and went off mumbling about -judgements to come, and doers of iniquities, and witches, and -soothsayers, till he had grumbled himself out of the churchyard -and up the lane till he reached his own door.</p> - -<p>He found the house empty. Milly had been smitten with the -quest, and had gone out to the dowser. Jimmy could hardly believe -his ears when the next door neighbour—a lame woman who -"would have gone on her own account if she could," as she stoutly -protested when Jimmy lifted up his voice in a gabble of -invective—informed him that Milly had asked her to see to -the kettle, and the cake in the oven, while she went off to see -the water found. "And small blame, too! Who wouldn't see a -miracle when they could in these days when nothing happened -that—-"</p> - -<p>"There's no miracle at all about it," grumbled Jimmy, turning -round and arguing the other way when he found himself -worsted.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, I don't see that you have no call to make such a -to-due about it. If that be so as you say jest ordinary tappin', -there can't be no witchcraft nor Satan's work about it. Bless me, -if I'd a got your legs I'd have been there long ago."</p> - -<p>And so it happened that before many minutes were over Jimmy's -curiosity had overcome his scruples, and he became one of the -fast-increasing crowd.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c6">CHAPTER VI.</h3> - -<h3>PUBLIC OPINION ON THE BRIDGE</h3> - -<p>The sun was setting, and the long shadows were slanting into -the tired faces of the crowd, before the dowser considered he had -satisfactorily accomplished his self-imposed task. He had made -his circuit of the village, and come back again to the common. He -had found and marked three springs: two were, he said, at a -considerable depth, some hundred or more feet below the surface; -and one, the most conveniently-placed for those who were to -benefit by it, was on the edge of the common, perhaps three or -four hundred yards from the church. When he and his following -returned after their long and successful quest, they found motor -car standing at the Wild Swan, puffing and snorting in the -impatient way that motors do. The driver, who was most -unmistakably out of patience, called out to him to hurry, or -"they would not get to Ipswich that night;" and after a brief -adieu to Mr. Barlow, and a comprehensive word to the assemblage, -he climbed into the car and disappeared in a cloud of dust.</p> - -<p>Willowton metaphorically rubbed its eyes. It was like a dream. -This morning they were to die for want of water; this evening it -appeared there was "water, water everywhere, but not a drop to -drink."</p> - -<p>When the last sound of the departing motor's horn had died -away Geo Lummis joined his cronies on the bridge.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Corkam, in his rancorous voice, "of all the -tomfoolery I ever seed in my life, I never seed anything to ekal -this! Do yew mean ter tell me as that old bloke with a piece a' -stick can find out where the water is, a hundred feet under the -earth? Well, if yew think I'm goin' ter believe <i>that</i>, why -you're greater fules nor I took yer for."</p> - -<p>"He, he, he!" laughed the cripple admiringly. "He knaw a thing -or tew, due Mr. Corkham."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Corkam, swelling with importance, "if I di'n't I -ought ter, for I've been twice ter 'Meriky, and that's moor nor -the rest of yer hev."</p> - -<p>This argument was unanswerable, for nobody else certainly had -crossed the Atlantic, or had, for the matter of that, ever -experienced the slightest desire to do so; but still, to have -been a traveller gives one importance in one's native village, -and Corkam never let the American experience be forgotten. There -was a tradition that an impudent boy, with an inquiring mind, had -once asked him how long he had been there; and there <i>were</i> -people in the upper walks of life in Willowton who had expressed -an opinion that he had gone over as a stoker in one of the -"Cunarders," but had never done more than set his foot on the -soil of the other hemisphere. But the fate of the indiscreet boy, -whose ears had tingled for some time after his awkward question, -had successfully deterred others from indulging in any undue -thirst for information on that point, and Corkam was popularly -supposed to be a mine of knowledge. It was, therefore, distinctly -disappointing to find that the afternoon's excitement was to go -for nothing, and that they were, so to speak, "no forrader" than -they were before.</p> - -<p>There was soon quite a little crowd round the "traveller," who -was airing his opinions freely, and consequently enjoying himself -exceedingly.</p> - -<p>"And if he hev found water," he was saying—"s'posin', as -we'll say, s'posin' there <i>is</i> water where he say—why, -he didn't find that for nothin'. Bah! <i>I</i> knaw better'n -that. He knaw wot he's about, does that gen'lm; he'll be round -here in a month or two, I'll lay a soverin', arstin' for yer -wotes for the next election! I knaw 'em; they're all -alike—doctors, parsons, jowsers—they don't do -anythin' for nothin'. Mark my words, he'll git suffin' out on -yer before long. I knaw 'em, an' I ought'er, I'm shore, for -ha'int I've bin te 'Meriky?"</p> - -<p>How long this harangue might have continued one cannot tell, -but an interruption was cased by the arrival on the scene of the -doctor in his high dog-cart. He pulled up on the bridge and -addressed the crowd.</p> - -<p>"This seems to be a good opportunity of speaking to you, my -men, on the subject which will be discussed in the schoolroom -to-morrow at dinner-time. Three springs of water are said to have -been discovered, and it has been decided to sink wells, if -possible, in all three places; and also to clear out those wells -which already exist, with a hope that when the rain <i>does</i> -come, and the springs begin to work again, the water may be purer -and more fit to drink. The wells must be dug at once, the funds -must be raised somehow or other; we can't stop to consider how at -this moment, for it is a matter, as you all know, of life and -death. What we propose to ask of you is to come forward with -offers of help. The farmers have kindly consented to spare those -of their men who know anything about well-sinking. I am about to -send telegrams to several well-known men to come to our -assistance, and I now ask you to think the matter over this -evening, and those men who are willing to offer their services -will, I hope, come in person to the meeting at one o'clock -to-morrow, when a selection will be made by a committee, which -will be formed this evening. I should like to add that the -question of wages will be also settled, and that the vicar and I -will be responsible for their prompt payment. All we ask of you -is your hearty co-operation in what is for the good of the whole -parish."</p> - -<p>"Hear, hear!" shouted a few voices in the crowd, who, for the -most part, received the intimation with sullen silence and -imperturbability of countenance. Corkam's words had done their -work, and Willowton had veered round again and become -incredulous. The doctor drove off, first to call at a -fever-smitten house at the extreme end of the village, and then -to beat up a committee of influential men for the meeting next -day.</p> - -<p>"Responsible fur the wages, indeed!" sneered Corkam. "I'd -like ter know where they're agoin' ter git th'money from! They'll -borrer it, I s'pose, and make a good thing out of it. Never fear, -yer don't blind <i>me</i>; <i>I</i> know 'em!"</p> - -<p>"Well," said a man who had hitherto preserved a stony silence, -"th' wells have got to be dug somehow, and I don't see what call -anybody hev ter bother about where th' money come from so that's -good money, and that they come by it honest. I know sumthin' -about well-diggin', and I shall go if they'll hev me."</p> - -<p>"And so'll I, Martin, if yue due," said Tom Chapman, who stood -beside him. "I don't know nothin' about it; but I know that's -dangerous work, and is well paid, and I can work under yur and -due my best."</p> - -<p>"That you can, booy," said the other man, clapping him on the -back, "an' a better mate I don't never want te see."</p> - -<p>After a little more desultory talk the crowd separated, and -they all went home to their evening meal, and to talk the matter -over with their wives.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c7">CHAPTER VII.</h3> - -<h3>TOM CHAPMAN "TAKES ON" AT THE WELL</h3> - -<p>When Tom Chapman opened his door a sight met him that was not -a grateful one to a tired man, and would have put most men into a -rage, but Tom didn't seem to mind much. He picked his way -cheerfully along over all manner of things, picking up a crowing -infant as he went that was rolled up in a shawl under the table. -"The only safe place in the room!" his wife said. A cry of joy -greeted daddy's entrance, and half a dozen grubby little arms -encircled his corduroy legs. His wife, with her hair all over her -face, looked up from the couch where she was sitting, with the -half-dressed youngster jumping about on her knees.</p> - -<p>"What a mess!" was all Tom said.</p> - -<p>"So it is Tom dear," said his wife cheerily; "but that'll be -all clear in no time.—Off with you, childer." And in a -trice all the elder ones were scampering upstairs, laughing with -glee, and carrying the greater part of their garments, of which -they had already divested themselves, with them. "Go you, Polly," -she said to a girl of perhaps eleven years old, "and tuck 'em all -up—there's a dear."</p> - -<p>Polly vanished after the rest. Her mother floundered about -collecting oddments for a few minutes, talking volubly all the -time, and giving her husband an amusing and graphic description -of the dowser's appearance in Gravel-pit Lane. Tom dangled the -baby as he listened, and swallowed his impatience as best he -could, for there were no signs of supper. Annie was incorrigible, -he knew, and he often felt he ought to make a stand against so -much untidiness and unpunctuality; but Annie always disarmed him. -Worn and weary, tired or ill, she always had a smile for him, and -then she had one great and very rare virtue—she <i>never -made</i> excuses. She never either denied her faults or tried to -explain them away. Tom, like the vicar, sometimes wished she did, -for it would have given <i>him</i> an excuse for scolding her; -but she never did, and so he learned to put up with it all. And -she had also another rare and excellent gift—she could -control the children. She never "smacked" or scolded them, and -she never nagged at them; but when she told them to do anything, -somehow or other, sooner or later—sometimes, certainly, a -little "later"—they always obeyed, and that without -coercion.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes there was quiet overhead, for the children -were saying their prayers, and Tom sat down to the table, and ate -heartily of some very good boiled bacon and a mess of cold beans, -washed down with a couple of glasses of fromerty, a drink he had -enjoyed a few years before in the hayfield and having asked and -learned how it was made, had passed his knowledge on to Annie, -who was always quick at anything in the way of cooking, and eager -to add to her store of knowledge in that line, to her husband's -lasting joy and her own comfort.</p> - -<p>"Annie," he said, when he had finished and she had rocked the -baby to sleep, "I've took on as a well hand—leastways I've -said I will work with Martin, and I shall go and offer myself -to-morrow at the meetin'."</p> - -<p>Annie's face fell.</p> - -<p>"O Tom, I wish you wouldn't. That's such terrible dangerous -work, and what ever shall I do if yew get hurt?"</p> - -<p>"No more dangerous than many other things. That's good pay, -and some one must do it. There'll be a rare job to find the men -for three wells, to be dug at once the doctor say."</p> - -<p>"Three wells at once! well, that is a job! Which'll yew be at, -I wonder? P'raps they'll set yew on the one atop a th' lane. That -'ud be nice and handy, and yew could run in for yer dinner. And -what'll they giv yew a day due yew think, Tom?</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I don't know. Not less than three bob, I'm thinking, -and p'raps more when we git down deep."</p> - -<p>"Three shillin's a day; why, that's eighteen shillin's a week, -and us only gettin' twelve! Why, we'll sune grow rich like that, -Tom!"</p> - -<p>Chapman laughed. There is not much wealth even on eighteen -shillings for a family of ten! But the more the merrier, he said, -when his friends commiserated him for having so many mouths to -fee.</p> - -<p>"Have you seen th' booy Tommy since th' mornin'?" asked -Annie.</p> - -<p>"No," he said; "I've bin after that dowser since I giv up -work. He's all right up there. I allus said that was th' right -place for 'm, though you was so set on keepin' him here."</p> - -<p>"'Twasn't so much that as he wouldn't go, poor booy. He did -beg me that hard not to send him away, I hadn't the heart to; and -he'd 'a bin here now if Mr. Rutland hadn't come and carried him -away in his own arms. And I'm thankful enough now that I let him -go, for they let me go up and see him this tea-time, and he was -a-lyin' there so comfortable, with plenty a' coolin' drink by his -side, and Mrs. Davies lookin' after him a lot better than I -could," said Annie with a sigh; but somehow she was learning to -recognize her own shortcomings, and realizing how unsuitable a -place her cottage was for illness.</p> - -<p>"And he say to me, 'Mother,' he say, 'I do very well here; -don't you take on about me'—for I couldn't help feelin' a -bit bad a-leavin' of him there, in spite of all I see of the -comfort round him. O Tom, the booards was that clean and the room -that sweet!"</p> - -<p>"Yis, I know," said Tom sympathetically; "and let's hope, now -he's away, poor boy, the others will escape the fever. Anyways, -the first thing to do is to git pure water, and I've set my mind -on that, Annie gal; so don't yew try to put me off th' job."</p> - -<p>"No—o, I won't," said Annie, as cheerfully as she could; -but she didn't really like it, all the same, though the eighteen -shillings a week dazzled her eyes.</p> - -<p>The next morning Chapman and his mate and some half-dozen -other men presented themselves at the meeting, and were taken on -at the wells. Four of them were sent to the one by the railway -station nearest the village, three were employed to empty one of -the infected wells, and our two friends, Chapman and Martin, were -sent with a couple of men, who had come out from Ipswich, to -start the one over the spring the dowser had marked on the edge -of the common, between the churchyard and Gravel-pit Lane, just -as Annie had hoped.</p> - -<p>The well-sinking committee, composed of the vicar, the doctor, -the squire's agent Mr. Jones, Mr. Barlow, and three of the -principal tradesmen in Willowton, lost no time in setting to work -that afternoon. Boxer, the largest carpenter in the place, got an -order for two cylinders or zones, to be made of the strongest oak -planks, and well clamped, in the fashion of a barrel. These -cylinders, which were, of course, circular, were about three feet -in height, and measured about seven feet in diameter. They were -made with an overhanging edge to hold and retain in their places -the bricks that were to weight them as they sank into the soil; -and a supply of sharp new spades and picks was sent to each -well-side by the village ironmonger. Apparently every one was -going to reap some benefit from this new scheme, and the prospect -of good water, even to the most sceptical, could not fail to be -popular.</p> - -<p>Before the evening was out collecting boxes "For the New -Wells" had been put in conspicuous places on the counters of each -of the shops, and a large one was fastened on to the church door. -There was one placed in a prominent position at the post-office, -and old Jimmy tramped off to the station with the doctor's -compliments to the stationmaster, and "would he put one in the -waiting-room?" Of course the stationmaster was agreeable to this, -and Jimmy had the satisfaction of seeing the box he brought hung -on a nail near the ticket-collector's window, and of hearing the -chink of the station-master's own contribution, and the promise -from each of the two porters of all the money they would get in -tips for the next three days.</p> - -<p>"Not that that'll count for much," one of them remarked, with -a wink at the old man that caused him to chuckle audibly, "'cos -you know, master, we be'an't allowed to take no money."</p> - -<p>Willowton was not a crowded junction, but only a little -ordinary station on the line; yet somehow or other, between them -those porters put nearly two shillings into the box.</p> - -<p>For the next few days, whenever the vicar or the doctor showed -himself in the village, he was sure to be stopped and asked for a -collecting-card, and before the end of the week there were -thirty-six cards at work in Willowton. Some wag suggested that -there should be one on the bridge, and that Corkam or Farley -should hang it round his neck with a suitable inscription, -because they were certain to be always on the spot! But Corkam -scowled so at the proposition that what might have really been a -most excellent plan was never carried out: for the bridge, as I -said before, was the central point of the little town, and few -people but passed over it some time in the day; consequently -quite good sum might have been collected if anybody had taken -charge of a box. Corkam apparently did all the good works he ever -meant to accomplish in America, and Farley dared not undertake to -collect without his approval.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c8">CHAPTER VIII.</h3> - -<h3>A NEIGHBOURLY ACTION</h3> - -<p>It was a week after the finding of the water, and Mildred -Greenacre was in the little orchard at the back of the cottage. -There was a sickly smell in the air of dying May flowers; the -parched blossoms fell fast on her head as she stooped over the -nearly dried-up stream to fill her water-can. A half-starved -looking billy-goat rubbed its horned head coaxingly against her -and bleated piteously. It was trying its best to tell her that -there was no nourishment in the burned-up grass, which was all it -had to live on. Milly was paying very little attention to the -poor animal's complaint, for she was kneeling on the bank, -holding on to a thorn bush with one hand, while she vainly strove -to reach the sunken water with the other. She made a pretty -picture in the broad sunlight, and it was not lost upon the -"laziest chap in th' place," as he sat idly balancing himself on -a gate opening into the field on the other side of the water.</p> - -<p>For some time, unseen himself, he watched the girl's fruitless -endeavours, and then he suddenly lifted up his voice and shouted, -so that she started and almost dropped her can.</p> - -<p>"Hold hard, and I'll help yer!"</p> - -<p>Milly rose from her stooping position, and looked round to see -where the voice came from. Geo came slowly towards her. He came -slowly, because it never occurred to him to hurry! If ever he had -experienced an impulse to hasten his steps, it was at this -moment.</p> - -<p>"I'll fill yer can," he said laconically, and without raising -his eyes to the pretty, flushed face across the stream.</p> - -<p>"But you can't," said Milly; "you're the wrong side, you -see."</p> - -<p>"I on't be there long, then," replied Geo, measuring the -distance with his eye. "Yew git out a' the way, and I'll soon be -alongside a' yew."</p> - -<p>"You're never going to jump?" began Milly, with round eyes of -surprise. As she moved aside, but before the sentence was -finished, Geo had sprung across.</p> - -<p>It was not much of a jump—nine feet or so—but Geo -had not attempted anything so athletic for many a long day, and -it was not surprising that he landed somewhat ungracefully on all -fours, and was rather breathless when he picked himself up, only -to sit down again very promptly and wipe his brow with a -blue-and-white handkerchief.</p> - -<p>Milly stood looking at him with surprise.</p> - -<p>"Have you hurt yourself?" she ventured, after a minute.</p> - -<p>"No, no, thank ye, only a bit shook; the ground is hard."</p> - -<p>"That it is," said Milly—"like iron. If only the rain -would come, what a good job that would be!"</p> - -<p>"That would indeed! But we've got water to drink at -last—leastways we shall have when the wells are dug."</p> - -<p>"How are they getting on with them?" asked Milly, forgetful of -her morning's work for the moment.</p> - -<p>"Well, the one on the common is gettin' on fairly well. -They've got down about fifty feet; but that's 'mazin' hard work, -as you can see."</p> - -<center><img src="images/nurse.jpg" width="70%" alt="Nurse cast a -satisfied glance round." title="Nurse cast a satisfied glance -round."></center> <p>"And the other, the one by the railway? I -haven't been round there these three days, and my grandfather, he -won't have nothin' to say to it." Milly smiled as she said this, -and an answering smile showed itself on Geo's broad face.</p> - -<p>"No, so I heard say. He's an old-fashioned old gentleman, he -is. He don't go with th' times no-how, do 'ee?"</p> - -<p>"That he don't," said Milly. "You should hear him goin' on -about it!"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Geo, rising slowly from his recumbent position -and taking the can from the girl's hand, "that's a rum job -altogether. Them at the bridge can't make nothin' of it, and no -more—-"</p> - -<p>"Why do you go with them at the bridge at all?" broke in Milly -impatiently. "Who cares what they say or what they don't say, I -should like to know?" very haughtily. "Give me my can, please; I -can get it myself!"</p> - -<p>Geo stared at her, at a loss to account for the sudden change -in he look and manner. A minute ago she was evidently inclined to -be friendly, but now she was equally evidently inclined to be -extremely annoyed with him. Geo gave vent to his feelings in a -low, long whistle. Milly blushed crimson.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon," she said; "I oughtn't to have said it. -That's no business of mine whether you loaf all day on the bridge -not. But I have my work to do, and I mustn't loiter here no more, -or I shall have grandfather after me."</p> - -<p>Geo stood quietly by while she made this rather long speech, -and was surprised to feel that he did not quite like it. He was -inclined to think he liked it better when she flashed out her -contempt for his idleness. But being a man of few words, and not -much felicity of expression, he merely muttered something -unintelligible, and leaning over the bank filled her can.</p> - -<p>"I'll car' it for you if you're agreeable," he said -shamefacedly, and the two moved together towards the cottage.</p> - -<p>"Thank you kindly," Milly said gently when they reached the -door; but she did not ask him to step in, and he turned away -awkwardly enough, wishing he had the courage to tell the girl he -had not spoken to three time in his life since they were at -school together that he was tired of his companions on the -bridge, and would gladly change his habits if only she would be -friends with him.</p> - -<p>With a gruff "You're welcome, I'm sure," he slouched off -towards the village.</p> - -<p>As he turned out of the lane by the bridge, Corkam caught -sight of him, and called after him,—-</p> - -<p>"Geo, come here, buoy! What are you arter, slinking away like -that? Why, that nigh on time for a pint!"</p> - -<p>But Geo, for once in his life, turned the other way, and -sauntered up the road to the new well by the railway. The men had -given up work for a spell, and were sitting in the shadiest spot -they could find eating their "'levenses." Geo lay down under the -fence with them.</p> - -<p>"If I'd ha' known what a job this 'oud ha' bin," said one man, -"blow me if I'd ha' took it on."</p> - -<p>"Hard work, is it?" said Geo pleasantly.</p> - -<p>"Ay, hard work indeed—harder work nor you iver did a' -your born days, I'll lay a sovr'in'."</p> - -<p>For the first time since Geo didn't know when, he felt a -twinge of shame at these rough words, and his eyes fell on his -own hands, fine, strong, well-shaped, capable hands, tanned with -sun and wind, but not hardened with toil like the other men's. A -big, good-natured looking man, who had just swallowed a good -draught of home-made "small beer," spoke suddenly, as if he had -divined the other's thoughts.</p> - -<p>"They look as if they cold do a day's work as well as mine," -he said, holding out a pair of rough, strong limbs, with sinews -like those of Longfellow's village blacksmith, and muscles -standing out, hard and healthy, as a working man's should be. -"Let me feel your muscles, buoy." He gripped Geo's arm as he -spoke. "Pulp!" he ejaculated, not ill-naturedly, -however—"pulp! How come they like that? Have you had th' -fever, buoy!"</p> - -<p>"Mighty little fever about him," said the man who had spoken -first. "That's want a' work wot's the matter a' him! <i>He</i> -never had a wet jacket a' his life! He's too much a' th' -gentleman, is Mr. George Lummis, and so was his father before -'im—like father, like son. He was a precious sight too -grand to keep his own wife when he was alive, and niver did na -more nor trap a rabbit when there worn't nothin' to eat in th' -house."</p> - -<p>"You lie!" said George, with sudden anger leaping up in his -face, and standing with blazing eyes staring at the sneering -workman. "Say what you like about me, but you leave my father -alone, or I'll know what for."</p> - -<p>"Hullo, hullo!" said the good-natured man, who was a stranger, -and had no idea of raising such a storm when he remarked on Geo's -very apparent strength of frame. "Hullo! stow that; that a sight -too hot for quarrelling. We'll ha' to go to work again in twenty -minutes, and tha would be a good lot more pleasant to have a -whiff a' bacca than commin' to fisticuffs a' this heat. Sit down, -young man, and don't be a fule."</p> - -<p>But Geo was much to irate to follow this obviously good -advice. Without appearing to notice the stranger's words, he -strolled off with as unconcerned an air as he could to the -bridge. His possible good resolutions had all faded away, -swallowed up in the blow his vanity had received, and a few -minutes later he had joined his friends Farley and Corkam in -their far less harmless "'levenses" at the inn. Here he regaled -them with an account of his passage of arms with the stranger, -and received their sympathy and strongly-expressed advice to do -as he pleased, "and be hanged to them!" There might be a late -"haysel," and he might get taken on for the time, and put a few -pounds in his pocket to tide him over till harvest. So when Milly -passed over the bridge at about one o'clock with her -grandfather's dinner, which she was taking to him where he was at -work to save him the hot walk home and back, she saw Geo with a -flushed face and bravado air leaning against the bridge, with his -familiar pals on either side. Milly saw, but she took no notice, -and passed with her head in the air and an angry spot on either -cheek. The girl was furious with herself for having taken an -interest, even a momentary one, in such a worthless, -good-for-nothing as Geo, and still more annoyed to think that she -had let him see it.</p> - -<p>"That's a tidy maid," said the cripple, with the air of a -critic, as she passed, and both men were surprised at Geo's -answer.</p> - -<p>"What's that to you?" said Geo, in a sullen tone; and he -crossed over, and became apparently completely engrossed in -watching for a trout under a stone.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c9">CHAPTER IX.</h3> - -<h3>NURSE BLUNT ARRIVES</h3> - -<p>The last days of May were over, and June was here, but since -the visit of the dowser there had fallen no drop of rain. The -fever was in no-ways abated. There had been several more deaths -and several new cases; another young Chapman was down with it; -the isolation hospital was full, and a fierce battle was going on -among the guardians as to the expediency of admitting sick people -into the Union Infirmary.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, by a subscription raised by the well-to-do in -the parish, the services of a trained nurse had been secured, and -old Jimmy had been asked to give her a lodging. Everybody knew -how clean and neat Milly kept everything, and it was unanimously -agreed at the meeting, which had been hastily summoned, that the -nurse would be as comfortable there as anywhere else in the -village.</p> - -<p>Old Jimmy at first demurred, on account his granddaughter; but -Milly herself soon argued him out of his objections.</p> - -<p>"The fever is in the air, grandfather," she said. "I take all -ordinary precautions against it. I boil and filter every drop of -water we drink, and I never let anything dirty lie about -anywhere, and am as particular as can be about every morsel of -food we eat, and I don't see as I can do no more. If I'm to catch -it I shall, but not from the nurse, I know, unless she takes it -herself; for this typhoid is not like scarlet fever or -smallpox—you can't carry it about in your clothes, but only -take it immediate one from another. I'm not afraid of the nurse -if you're not."</p> - -<p>So Jimmy gave in, and one hot evening the nurse arrived. Mrs. -Crowe, the vicar's housekeeper, met her at the station, and -brought her to her new quarters. The white dust lay thick on the -road, and the hedges all along were choked with it. A porter from -the station followed with her box on a barrow. A most formidable -box it was. It quite frightened Milly when she saw it. She -thought she must be having a very grand lady to stay with her. -But the nurse soon explained that it was simply filled with -linen.</p> - -<p>"I've brought enough to last me a month or two," she said, -"and my aprons weigh so heavy; but if we can't get it up your -stairs, why, we can just unpack it in the parlour and carry the -things up in our arms. You need not worry about that."</p> - -<p>Milly had set out a cosy tea in the little front room that -opened into the garden—some nice home-made bread (for Milly -always did her own baking), some butter and blackberry jam, and a -boiled egg and some toast—in case the traveller was hungry -after her hot journey. The tea was in a brown earthenware -pot—which, as everybody is not fortunate enough to know, -makes the very best tea in the world—and the cloth was -spotless, and the knives and spoons well polished. Nurse cast a -satisfied glance round before she followed Milly to the little -bedroom upstairs. She had had plenty of experience, and she knew -the signs of good housekeeping almost at a glance. There was no -carpet in the room, but the flooring was exquisitely clean; some -white curtains of a material that Milly's grandmother, who had -made them and hung up forty years ago, had called "dimity;" the -little wooden bedstead stood a little out from the wall, and the -sheets and pillow-cases were as white as careful washing could -make them. A rush-bottomed chair and a little table, with the -necessary washing apparatus, completed the furniture. A jug of -hot water stood in the basin, and a pair of clean towels and a -fresh piece of brown Windsor soap looked inviting.</p> - -<p>Nurse sat down and removed her bonnet, opened her little black -hand-bag, and took out a sponge and a brush and comb; and Milly, -with a pleasant "hope she found all to her liking," slipped away -to make the tea. She had asked Mrs. Crowe to stay and have a cup -with them, for she was, not unnaturally, a little shy of her new -lodger. It was her first experience of having any one but her -grandfather to look after, and she felt a little anxious.</p> - -<p>As soon as tea was over Milly put a note into the nurse's -hands. It had been left there, she said, by the doctor, who would -be much obliged, did not nurse feel too tired, if she would come -to him in the cool of the evening, and he would explain her -duties to her.</p> - -<p>The conversation naturally turned on the prevailing topic of -the typhoid epidemic. Nurse, who had been a couple of years in a -London hospital, had had a good deal of experience of this fever, -and she told her listeners many interesting things which were -useful for them to know just then. She was a pleasant-faced, -kind-looking woman of about forty years of age, with a slightly -dictatorial manner, which was perhaps the result of her training; -for she had worked for several years as parish nurse in poor -districts, and often, as she told them, met with terrible -ignorance, and that obstinacy which so often accompanies it. -People <i>would</i> not believe in infection, she said; they -would not take the most ordinary, the most simple precautions; -and what was worse, when they had learned by the bitter -experience of the loss of, perhaps, their nearest and their -dearest, they still persisted in the utter disregard of -cleanliness and health.</p> - -<p>"And that, no doubt, is the secret of this outbreak at -Willowton. I have not been told so, but I take that for granted," -said the nurse.</p> - -<p>"Well, nurse, I should hardly like to go so far as that," said -the vicar's housekeeper, standing up as far as her conscience -allowed for her native place; "but there is a great deal of that -too. But our chief trouble is the water. Nearly all the wells in -the place are condemned by the sanitary inspectors, and we really -don't know where to get water fit to drink."</p> - -<p>"Dear me, that is bad!" said nurse. "What are your landlords -about? Why isn't something done?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear me, it's no fault of the landlords," said Mrs. -Crowe, rather warmly. "It is one gentleman owns the whole place, -but he has been out at the war the last two years, and his agent -has been doing his best, but up to within the last fortnight -there had been no possibility of finding any water. And most of -the springs have gone dry."</p> - -<p>"You say 'up to the last fortnight,' Mrs. Crowe. Do I -understand that you have had some water found since then?"</p> - -<p>"Well, yes; at least so we hope and trust there will be when -the wells are dug."</p> - -<p>And then she proceeded to give nurse a full and -highly-coloured description of the "miracle," as some of the -people persisted in calling it.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, I have heard of dowsers," said nurse. "It's a -wonderful thing, and a good many people don't believe in it. But -seeing is believing, and from what you say I hope we shall soon -see a proof of the power. But we are lingering too long over our -tea and chat. I must go up to the doctor's house, for he -evidently wants to see me this evening, and I won't waste any -more time. Perhaps one of you will show me the way!"</p> - -<p>"I will," said Mrs. Crowe. "Indeed, it is time I was home too; -the vicar will be in and wanting his supper."</p> - -<p>So the two women went off together, and Milly was left to -clear up the tea-things and get a meal ready, for her grandfather -would not be in, he told her, till eight o'clock.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c10">CHAPTER X.</h3> - -<h3>ANOTHER FEVER VICTIM</h3> - -<p>The account the doctor gave Nurse Blunt of the deplorable -state of the sickness in Willowton would have made a weaker woman -quail, but Nurse Blunt was strong in body and mind.</p> - -<p>"I mayn't sit up night, sir, as you know," she said, "but I'll -do my best all day; and I'll begin at six o'clock to-morrow -morning if you'll give me list of the most urgent cases."</p> - -<p>The doctor took out his pocket-book.</p> - -<p>"Four cases in Gravel-pit Lane," he read, "two in the main -street, three in the back alley. None of these are particularly -dangerous ones, but they all require great care, as you know, and -the difficulty is to prevent their relations feeding them with -forbidden things."</p> - -<p>"I know that well, sir," said the nurse sorrowfully; "I've had -a great many sad experiences of that. Many a poor thing has died -through being given solid food at a time when nothing but milk -should have been allowed."</p> - -<p>"Yes," assented the doctor, "of course, it is as you say; and -it has been the cause of death to several of our people. I cannot -make them see the necessity for following my orders implicitly; -they think it does not matter, or I won't find out. Well, perhaps -I don't, but nature does, and we soon see the result."</p> - -<p>"Where shall I go first?" asked nurse.</p> - -<p>"Well, there is a new case declared only this -afternoon—a Mrs. Lummis, a nice woman, a widow. She has no -one really to look after her but a lazy ne'er-do-weel of a son. -Perhaps you had better go there first. She will not keep you -long. Everything will be neat; and though very poor, I fancy she -knows what ought to be. If wanted, I'll give you an order for -milk. Major Bailey has telegraphed from South Africa that his -dairy (and he keeps a lot of cows) is at our disposal. You'd -better tell her son he must go for it every morning." He wrote -out an order as he spoke. "The others have all got them," he -continued.</p> - -<p>And after receiving a few more important directions, the nurse -took her leave and strolled back through the village to her -lodgings.</p> - -<p>Milly and her grandfather were still up when she got back, -though they usually "turned in" earlier. Milly, of course, waited -to hear whether her lodger wanted anything before she retired for -the night.</p> - -<p>"Nothing, thank you," she said in answer to her inquiries; -"but if you'll let me have breakfast at eight o'clock I should be -glad. And perhaps you can tell me which of these places comes -first. I like to take my patients as they come; it saves time and -trouble, and they get to know when to expect me."</p> - -<p>She handed Milly the doctor's paper, and Milly explained. -Nurse took out a pencil and made some notes on the margin.</p> - -<p>"Oh! and then there's Mrs. Lummis," she said.</p> - -<p>"I am to go there first. Where does she live?"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Lummis!" echoed Milly with surprise. "Is she ill?"</p> - -<p>"So the doctor says. And it appears she has no one to look -after her but a good-for-nothing son. Poor woman! I'm sorry for -her, for I shan't be able to give her much of my time with a list -like this!"</p> - -<p>Milly would have liked to say something in defence of George -Lummis, for she had, or fancied she had, seen something of -another side of his character when he had jumped across the -stream and stood beside her so meekly while she spoke to him -about his wasting his time on the bridge. She had fancied there -was something rather fine about him, he had looked so strong and -honest and capable for the moment; but then a little later how -different had been his appearance! The remembrance of that kept -her quiet; she had nothing to say.</p> - -<p>Old Jimmy woke up just in time to hear nurse's remark. "Yes," -he said, "a good-fur-northin', idlin' young fule." And if Milly -had not stopped him with a timely reminder that it was nearly -half-past nine, he would have plunged into the history of all -poor Geo's antecedents for several generations. As it was, nurse -was not particularly interested, and backed up Milly's suggestion -that it was high time all good people went to bed.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, in the little house on the hill that lazy, -idle good-for-nothing was making ready for the night.</p> - -<p>He pulled down the little blind over the open window, and set -a jug of milk and water with a glass by his mother's bedside, and -smoothed the sheet over her hot and tossing limbs.</p> - -<p>"You just sing out, mother, if you want anything," he said, -speaking in a comfortable, low-toned voice that did not jar on -her aching nerves. "Or if you can't sleep. I'll come and set by -you. I'd like to do that now if you'd let me."</p> - -<p>"No, no, Geo my boy, that I won't; I'm quite comfortable as -far as that goes. If it wasn't for the heat, maybe I'd get some -sleep myself. You go to bed now, and when you wake come in and -see after me. I'll call you sure enough if I want you."</p> - -<p>So Geo came away, and throwing himself on his bed was soon -sound asleep.</p> - -<p>In the house next door a girl was ill. Mrs. Lummis had been -helping to nurse her. If only she could be left, her mother would -come and see after her, she well knew; for the poor are always at -their best in times of illness, and the way they help each other -is a pattern to those above them. But the girl was very bad -indeed, not likely to recover, and Mrs. Lummis could not look for -help from the nearly worn-out mother. It was a comfort that Geo -seemed to be so handy. She was lucky, she thought, to have such a -son; but she felt anxious, knowing that her illness was likely to -be a long one. She knew not of the likelihood of the nurse -coming to her. Like everybody else in the village, she knew of -her advent, but nobody had told her she had really come. If she -had she would have passed a less miserable night, perhaps; for, -of course, nothing was farther away from her than sleep.</p> - -<p>After all she had heard, nurse was rather surprised, when she -knocked at the door about seven o'clock next morning, to find it -opened to her by a pleasant, bright-faced young man, who looked -as if he had just dipped his head into a tub of cold water, so -fresh was his colour.</p> - -<p>"<i>You</i> haven't been up all night, I'll be bound," she -inwardly ejaculated; "but you look different from what I -expected."</p> - -<p>"I am the new nurse," she said in answer to the astonishment -that shot out of his blue eyes, "and the doctor has sent me to -see after your mother. What sort of night has she had?"</p> - -<p>"Pretty bad," said Geo. "I was just gettin' th' kettle to -boil, and thought I'd make her some tea."</p> - -<p>"Milk is better for her," said the nurse.</p> - -<p>"That's too early for milk yet," said Geo; "you can't get milk -at the shop before eight o'clock."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I've got a ticket for you," and the nurse produced -it out of her little black bag.</p> - -<p>"Why, that's for the Hall!" said Geo with surprise.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that's all right; the doctor sent it. You'd better take -a can and go and fetch it at once. I'll see after your mother if -you'll just take me to her."</p> - -<p>"But I think I'd better first let her know," said Geo, -thinking this newcomer was taking rather too much on herself.</p> - -<p>Nurse read his thoughts and flushed a little. She was so full -of the importance of her mission, so anxious to do her work -thoroughly, that she sometimes forgot the little courtesies due -to everybody, sick or well.</p> - -<p>"Certainly," she said, rather curtly. "I'll wait till you come -down."</p> - -<p>George disappeared up the steep little staircase that led out -of the sitting-room to the bedroom overhead. He was gone a few -minutes, and when he came back he said his mother would be glad -to see nurse if the doctor had sent her, and he showed her up. -The sick woman, who looked thin and flushed with fever, looked -half frightened at the nurse for a moment, and then began to -cry.</p> - -<p>"Leave her to me," said nurse to Geo, who did not understand. -"She'll be all right in a minute or two."</p> - -<p>So Geo went off in his usual leisurely way for the milk, and -the nurse talked soothingly to the sick woman, took her -temperature, which was very high, and gave her some fever -medicine.</p> - -<p>"Are you going to do for her?" asked the nurse bluntly when -Geo returned.</p> - -<p>"I s'pose so," answered Geo in the same way.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll call in some time again this afternoon. You need -not stop with her all day, but you must come in and out; and give -her nothing but milk, but plenty of it. But can you be spared -from your work? Oh," as Geo hesitated, "I forgot."</p> - -<p>Geo saw she had already heard about him. It was unnecessary to -explain.</p> - -<p>"I'll due wot yue say," he said simply, opening the door and -letting her out; and then he went back to his mother, who spoke -gratefully of the nurse and seemed glad of her help.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c11">CHAPTER XI.</h3> - -<h3>THE STRIKE AT THE WELL</h3> - -<p>One would have thought that so excellent a work as the digging -of the wells would be allowed to go on quietly, but unfortunately -the fact that the scheme happened to have been originated by the -vicar and the doctor was enough to make some people condemn it; -and we all know, when once the thin end of the wedge of -discontent and distrust has forced its way into anything, how -difficult—nay, how often impossible—it is to dislodge -it. And so it was that the men at the railway well, when they had -dug to the depth of nearly fifty feet and had found no water, -began to get impatient and disheartened. Most of the wells in -Willowton were not more than thirty or forty feet deep, and were -fed, of course, chiefly by surface drainage; hence their deadly -poison. These new wells were on the higher ground above the -village, and naturally water was to be found there only at a -deeper level; but these men either would not or could not take -this in. Two of them had had very little experience whatever in -the work, and like all novices, they looked for immediate -results; and when these were not forthcoming, they grumbled at -the dowser, their employers, and everything else. Their evil -counsellors advised a strike for higher wages than the -unprecedented amount they were already receiving, and so it -happened that one hot morning, when the vicar went up to see how -they were progressing, he found the well deserted, and no signs -of the men anywhere. He walked up to it and looked in. It was -partially covered with planks in the usual way, apparently just -as they had left it the night before. He was puzzled. The men had -apparently struck. But why? he asked himself. And nothing he -could recall threw any light upon the matter.</p> - -<p>"That is the worst," he thought "of employing irregular -workmen." But it had been impossible at such short notice to -procure all professional well-sinkers, and he had thought himself -very fortunate to have secured two, one for each well; while all -the men, except Chapman, had seen the work going on at various -farms in the neighbourhood, if they had not actually assisted. -They were perfectly well aware of the nature of the work; they -had volunteered for it, and gone at it cheerfully enough. The -strike was altogether inexplicable.</p> - -<p>The vicar paid his visit to the Union, and an hour later came -on to the bridge, where he saw all four men seated on the -parapet, smoking, and talking loudly and ostentatiously, as if -they wished to engage the attention of the passers-by. They were -a rough-looking gang, however, and nobody seemed inclined to -stop. Curiously enough, neither Corkam nor Farley was -present.</p> - -<p>"Good-morning, my men," he said pleasantly when he got within -speaking distance. "How is it you are not at work?"</p> - -<p>A sort of sullen silence had come over them at his approach. -No one attempted to break it, but each looked covertly at the -other for guidance—all except the stranger, who turned his -back and became apparently deeply interested in the ducks on the -water.</p> - -<p>"You're all here, aren't you? No accident, I hope?" said the -vicar.</p> - -<p>"No accident as I know on," answered the foreman at last.</p> - -<p>He was a man who had been in the choir, but had left for some -stupid reason or fancied slight, known only to himself. Mr. -Rutland had been extremely kind to him always, and had helped him -more than once with money when an accident during harvest had -kept him out of work.</p> - -<p>"Well," said the vicar, turning very red with an evident -effort to keep his temper, "since none of you have anything to -say, I will wish you good-morning."</p> - -<p>"Well, but we have something to say," said another man -roughly.</p> - -<p>This man had had three children down with the fever, and the -doctor had given them every attention, even sitting up half the -night on occasion when two of them had been in a very critical -state. He had behaved very differently then from what he was -doing now. He thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, and -tried to look as callous as he could.</p> - -<p>The vicar looked at him for the eighth part of a second with -disgust.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, Cadger, stand up and say it properly," he said -authoritatively.</p> - -<p>The man slipped off the parapet, and stood looking very -uncomfortable, for all his swagger, under the vicar's -scrutiny.</p> - -<p>"Now, then," said the vicar sharply, "what is it? what is your -complaint?"</p> - -<p>"We've struck," said two or three voices at once.</p> - -<p>The vicar never once glanced at the graceless creatures still -dangling their legs, though less aggressively; he addressed -himself to Cadger.</p> - -<p>"Oh, have you?" he said as calmly as he could. "What have you -struck for?"</p> - -<p>"More wages," said Cadger, glancing at his comrades for -directions.</p> - -<p>"Which you won't have," said the vicar quietly. He was quite -calm now and very white. "You agreed for what was considered by -yourselves, and by everybody else, a very generous wage. You have -no right to ask more. I, for one, will certainly not advocate it. -There is reason in all things, and money is not so plentiful in -Willowton as you seem to think. I am disappointed in you, Cadger, -particularly; I had thought better things of you. I fancied you, -at least, were anxious to take your share in lessening the -terrible trouble that has been put upon us; but I see now you -only thought of your own interest. With my consent, I tell you -honestly, you will not get a penny more."</p> - -<p>"He! he!" laughed one or two of the men; but the vicar never -looked round.</p> - -<p>"But," he added, "I am only one. You can bring your complaint -in proper form before the committee, and, of course, if the -majority agree, what I say will not stand; so you have your -remedy."</p> - -<p>He walked away as he finished speaking, and Cadger sat down -again. He did not say anything, for somehow or other, though he -felt very valiant at first, he began now to feel rather small. -There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, and then -the stranger, whose name was Hayes, knocked the ashes out of his -pipe against the root of a tree and spoke.</p> - -<p>"He don't look such a bad sort," he said reflectively.</p> - -<p>"I don't mind him so much," said Cadger patronizingly, "when -he mind 'is own business."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed!" said the stranger with a twinkle. "Well, now, -whatever is 'is business?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I s'pose that's te preach in th' church, and give the -money tue th' poor, and wisit th' sick."</p> - -<p>"Yis. Well, go on; northin' more'n that?"</p> - -<p>"Well yis," went on the man, never seeing that Hayes was -"pulling his leg:" "he've got ter due th' christenin', and th' -marryin', and th' buryin'."</p> - -<p>"Well, that last ought ter give 'im plenty o' work in this -hole," said Hayes rather brutally. "Well, go on. Anythin' -more?"</p> - -<p>"Well, he've got ter see after the schule, an' the clothin' -club, an' the parish room, an' sech like things."</p> - -<p>"And don't he take no trouble about the choir? Don't he have -no Bible classes, nor confirmation classes, nor nothin'?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yis, hev them," Cadger allowed.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, there's them concerts, and trips to the seaside, -and school treats you was tellin' me about the other day. Don't -he have nothin' to do with them?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yis; he manages them, in coorse."</p> - -<p>"Oh, 'ndeed! Well, now, how about the cricket clubs and the -football clubs?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, he's treasurer for them tue."</p> - -<p>"Well, then—I don't hold much with parsons myself, but I -should like to know wat's <i>not</i> his business!"</p> - -<p>"That's not 'is business to come interferin' wi' us," said the -man who had laughed derisively. It was he who had insulted the -memory of Geo's father.</p> - -<p>"Oh, ain't it? Well—- Don't be angry," as the man fired -up; "I only ask for information. Who had the startin' o' these -here wells?"</p> - -<p>Nobody seemed anxious to answer this question, and Hayes did -it himself.</p> - -<p>"Why, the parson hisself, didn't he? And aren't he and the -doctor answerable for the money? If any one has a right to say -anything, I should think the parson has. But you're on the -strike, and right or wrong you're in for it; but I don't mind -tellin' of yer I ain't—I'm only one to four, and that's no -good holdin' out. But I ain't one a' yer sneakin' sort; I ain't -afeared ter speak out, no more'n th' parson, and I tell yer -honest I hain't struck. I can't goo on by myself; but I've been a -well-sinker all my days, and I know I niver had sech good pay -offered to me before, and I'm content. If they don't give in, -why, the well, I s'pose will have to be closed. But that don't -matter to me; I can get plenty a' jobs at Ipswitch, an' I can go -back where I come from, quite agreeable."</p> - -<p>He put his pipe back into his mouth when he had finished his -harangue, and puffed away for some moments in silence; and then -the storm broke. The other men were furious at his words. They -called him by every opprobrious name they could think of.</p> - -<p>"All right," he said at last, leisurely pulling off his -jacket; "let's fight it out."</p> - -<p>He stood up boldly in the middle of the road, with his head -thrown back and his fists clenched; but nobody seemed inclined to -accept his invitation.</p> - -<p>A butcher's cart that was passing pulled up to see the fun, -and in a minute or less there was quite a crowd of small boys -standing round the angry group. Encouraged by the "gallery," -Hayes, who had hitherto been perfectly good-humoured, was -beginning to be really angry, and in another minute would -probably have let fly at one or other of his late mates; but the -policeman, who happened to be at hand, stepped up in the nick of -time and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Hayes was sobered in a minute.</p> - -<p>"All right, master, I don't want to fight. There ain't one a' -them but wot I could pound into mincemeat if I liked, but I'll -let 'em off since you've come."</p> - -<p>He pulled down his shirt sleeves as he spoke, and Cadger and -his mates took the opportunity of slipping off, and in five -minutes the bridge was clear. Indeed, the whole scene had not -lasted quarter of an hour; and when Farley and Corkam emerged -from the back parlour of the Swan, their mortification and -disgust at having missed it knew no bounds. But there had been -one silent spectator who concerns our story—it was Geo -Lummis. He had heard it all, every word, as he hung over the -bridge watching the stream. It was no business of his, so he did -not interfere; and knowing that he would be questioned and -cross-questioned a hundred times over by both of them if they -knew he had been there, he turned off abruptly and went home.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c12">CHAPTER XII.</h3> - -<h3>BACK TO THE WORK</h3> - -<p>Annie Chapman never had liked her husband working at the well. -She said as little as she could, and she scarcely knew why, but a -sort of nameless fear always crept over her when people spoke of -the work. Though she took her husband his "'levenses" and his -"fourses" every day, she never could be induced to look down into -its depths, which naturally grew deeper day by day.</p> - -<p>It was a hot walk though a short one, and Annie's head -throbbed with the intensity of the heat, and her feet felt as if -they were weighted with lead. It was like walking on hot flags, -she thought, as she plodded over the common with the last baby in -her arms. The men had rigged up a sort of rough tent with four -poles and a stack-cover, and placed a couple of benches -underneath it, and Annie stopped to rest under its grateful -shade. She was a little early, and Tom was still at work ninety -feet below her. She shuddered as she thought of it, and Martin's -daughter, who had come on the same errand for her father, laughed -at her.</p> - -<p>"You're never cold, Mrs. Chapman!" she said. "That must be a -goose walkin' over your grave."</p> - -<p>"Likely as not," said Annie, answering in the same vein; -"there are plenty on 'em about."</p> - -<p>The girl laughed. She was a nice, bright, curly-haired, -freckly girl. She looked kindly at Annie, and held out her arms -for the baby.</p> - -<p>"I don't believe you half like your husband takin' on with my -father," she said.</p> - -<p>"How do you know?" asked Annie, rather sharply for her.</p> - -<p>"Why, Chapman told fayther so. He said you was rare put about -when he told you, and if it weren't that he think that's only -duin' what he oughter, he'd ha' chucked the job long ago. But he -would not go back on fayther, he say, after he've giv his word; -and he's a good man, he is," she added warmly. "Fayther he think -a lot o' him. He's a good un to work, he say, and a good mate -tew, and fayther don't say that a' ivrybody, I can tell yew."</p> - -<p>Annie felt pleased. It is always pleasant to hear nice things, -of course, about those we love, and Annie was generally so busy -muddling along with her household and children all day that she -had very little time for gossiping or exchanging many words with -her neighbours; and she scarcely knew how her Tom stood amongst -his fellows, for he was quiet and unobtrusive, and was not a man -to make many friends.</p> - -<p>"He think a lot a' your father too," she answered, giving tit -for tat with truth.</p> - -<p>"I wish they'd come up," Annie said at last. "If they're not -quick I'll have to go back without seein' Tom."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you put your head over and call down to him?" said -the girl.</p> - -<p>Annie shuddered again.</p> - -<p>"Oh no, no, I dursn't"</p> - -<p>"Well, I will," said her companion. "I know Mr. Hayes'll let -me.—Won't you now, Mr. Hayes?"</p> - -<p>The big man who sat on the edge of the temporary woodwork that -was erected at the mouth of the well turned a good-natured, -sunburnt visage towards her.</p> - -<p>"All right, my gal! come on, I'll hold ye. They've got on well -to-day. They're down a sight deeper than last time you -looked."</p> - -<p>The man held back the ropes that hung from a windlass over the -top, and the girl stooped over the brink. She could see the heads -of both men down at what appeared to her an unfathomable depth. -She uttered a little cry of dismay. The earth had been getting -softer and easier to dig into for the last two days and they had -made considerable progress. Martin looked up as the shadow cast -by the girl's head and shoulders darkened the pit a little.</p> - -<p>"Hullo! That's you, my gal, is it? Well, I'm coming. I want my -fourses bad, I can tell you."</p> - -<p>"Well, come on up then, father; and tell Mr. Chapman his wife -have been waitin' for him ever so long, and she've got to go home -directly, to give the children their teas."</p> - -<p>"All right, then.—You go up first, Tom." And nothing -loath, Tom put his foot into the loop, and gripping the rope with -both hands was soon drawn up.</p> - -<p>"My eye, it is hot up here," he said, as half blinded by the -sun he made his way to the tent. Martin soon followed, and the -women unpacked their baskets. Annie had brought Tom a bottle of -his favourite fromerty and a large harvest-bun. Martin liked tea, -so his daughter had a pot full of it rolled up in an old shawl to -keep it hot, for Martin held that hot tea is the most cooling of -drinks. "Drinkin' cold things when you're hot only makes you all -the hotter!" Well, every one to his taste, and the big man -preferred beer. He was a stranger, and the same man who had made -such cruel remarks on Geo Lummis's muscles.</p> - -<p>He lodged at Martin's house, so "Martin's gal," as Polly was -generally called in the village, had brought his "fourses" too. -He quaffed off his half-pint of good home-brew, made by Mrs. -Martin herself, and with a sigh of enjoyment flung the drops at -the bottom of the glass on to the thirsty ground.</p> - -<p>"That 'ud be a rum job," he said, as he seated himself on the -form, "if that dowser chap ha' happened ar a mistake, and we -don't find no water arter all."</p> - -<p>"We'll find it all right," said Martin decidedly. "He knowed -what he was about. He said that was a long way down, and I -believe him."</p> - -<p>That Martin should believe him was quite sufficient for -himself and Chapman, for Martin was one of those people that -carry about them a quiet power of making every one else trust -them. He possessed that nameless intangible quality that we know -as "character." Martin was not particularly clever, he was not -entertaining or amusing in conversation; but he undoubtedly -possessed a great deal of character, and in his quiet, -deliberate, commonplace way he carried as much weight as any man -in the parish. If it had not been for Martin, it is pretty -certain the wells would never have been begun, much less -finished. It was Martin whose example made Chapman, Lake, and the -other two Willowton men at the railway well come forward in the -first instance and volunteer their services. It was Martin who -gave the other men courage to come forward with with their offer -of work. It was Martin who kept Lake and Chapman up to the mark -when, seeing the difficulty and hardness of the work, they -wavered, and, urged on by "the bridge," were inclined to strike -for more wages.</p> - -<p>"What, give in," he said, "when we've go so far—sixty -feet or more below th' surface? More money yer want? Well, I'm -all fur gettin' all we can. I haven't no sort er objection te -money myself; but fair play's a jewel, I say, and we've took this -risk, and we've jest got te keep it. A few more shillin's won't -make our lives na safer, and we've got a good wage—three -shillin's a day ter start on, and a shillin' more for every ten -feet; and I say that's good pay, and we don't want na -better—leastways we didn't ought to. Do you think folks is -<i>made</i> o' money?" he asked, warming to his subject. "I don't -say as Mr Rutland and the doctor are goin' to pay us out o' their -own porckets—in coorse they're not; but they're -responsible—that's how I take it. And they are payin' us -fair and punctual; and I'm not goin' to say that I don't believe -but what if they get more money than they want by their -subscription boxes, and they offer me a bonus, that I'll refuse -it," with a twinkle in his honest gray eye. "No, if they like to -remember the well-diggers when the water is come, I won't hev -northin' to say agin it, I'm sure; and nor wud yue now. Jest yue -put that in your pipes and smoke it!"</p> - -<p>He lounged off as he spoke with a "good-night" over his -shoulder, and next morning, when, having "smoked it" with much -thought overnight, the two men arrived on the scene, they found -Martin there before them. He made no remark, and work began as -usual. The idea of going back never entered either of their heads -again, though the railway-well men had carried out their threat -and struck.</p> - -<p>When Lake, who lived in Gravel-pit Lane, went down with the -fever, it was Martin who suggested to Mr. Rutland to get back the -stranger, who had only gone away that morning reluctantly; for he -was an experienced digger, and saw little risk in the railway -well, and would willingly have gone on with the work if he had -not been thrown out by the pusillanimity of his mates. He came at -once, and both the Willowton men took to him. He was pleasant to -work with, for he was both able and hard-working, and never, -"shirked a spadeful," as Martin told the vicar, with just a touch -of pride at his own sagacity in suggesting him. Mr. Rutland had -been doubtful when it was proposed to him. He did not think it -wise to bring him in again, but Martin's good sense overruled -him.</p> - -<p>"There's nobody in the place durst come and help us," he said, -"time them tue others is out a' work; they wouldn't leave 'em -alone, not a minute. That's only a stranger we can hev now, as -matters are, and he hadn't northin' ter due with the strike."</p> - -<p>"Who do you think had then?" asked the vicar, little expecting -so prompt a reply.</p> - -<p>"Why, that scum Corkam!" asserted Martin stoutly. "He's at th' -bottom a' most a' these here messes, he is! He goes a-talkin' ar -a lot o' rubbidge about 'Meriky (as I don't believe he ever -landed on), and he tell 'em a sight o' stories about the big -wages over there, and he don't say northin' about the house rent -they have to pay, nor the price o' wittles, nor clothin', which I -know ('cos my brother lived out in them parts for years) don't -leave them not sa very much over for theirselves to due what they -like with arter all. And they've got ter goo and leave the old -place and their friends and relations, and work a sight harder -fur their money than we due here."</p> - -<p>"Just so, that's just it, Martin," said the vicar. "A little -knowledge is a dangerous thing. Corkam has got a little -knowledge—a smattering of facts about many countries; but -he is like a parrot—he repeats what he has been told, and -has never gone into the subject himself,—not had the -chance, most likely."</p> - -<p>"You're right, sir; that's about the size on it! And them -chaps on the bridge of an evenin', they'll swaller anythin' he -like tue tell 'em. That there young Lummis—-"</p> - -<p>"Oh, George Lummis! Yes, poor fellow, it's heartbreaking to -see him idling away his whole life like that. But somehow I fancy -George will break loose one of these days. One day Master Corkam -will tell him something he can't swallow, or offend his sense of -right and wrong, for there's nothing really bad about -Geo—at present, at any rate. I still have hopes of Geo, and -I hear he is making an excellent nurse to his mother."</p> - -<p>In speaking thus the vicar was not talking at random. He had -for some time past been unaccountably interested in Geo. To his -keen sight—lazy, good-for-nothing as he appeared—Geo -was full of possibilities. There came into the young fellow's -sleepy, handsome face a look sometimes that made you fancy that -under certain circumstances he might rise even to some great -height of heroism.</p> - -<p>The vicar had been fortunate enough, as long ago as last -summer, to catch that expression one day when he came -accidentally upon him lying on the bank in the flowery meadow, -lazily dropping leaves into the stream and watching them float -way. Mr. Rutland was one of those very rare philanthropists who -can resist the temptation of improving the occasion. He saw a -whole sermon in the picture before him, and could have drawn half -a dozen lessons from the vagaries of the leaves—some of -which spun round and round and disappeared rapidly into the -flowing water, others that caught in weeds and remained prisoners -or drifted under the bank—but he did not. Geo had looked up -as he caught the sound of his footstep, and there was a look in -his face that took the vicar by surprise. It was, he thought (and -he almost felt ashamed of being so imaginative) an expression -that might have been on the face of a hero of the middle -ages—a look, brave, clear, determined, as of a man braced -for some great deed, and yet he was idling away his time on the -grass, tipping leaves in the stream. A man of less tact and less -human sympathy than the vicar would have stopped and made some -remark, or at any rate have given him the customary greeting; but -Mr. Rutland refrained, and passed on as if he had not noticed -him. There was something fermenting in Geo's brain, he saw, and -he felt certain it was, whatever it might be, for good.</p> - -<p>Nothing, as far as Mr. Rutland knew, ever came of this. Geo -worked hard at the "haysel" and the harvest that had followed, it -is true, and he took on occasional jobs at various farms in the -neighbourhood, but for the most part he idled away his days, as -we have already seen. His latent heroism, if he possessed any, -remained dormant. But the vicar always remembered the look when -people meted out to Geo their not unjust strictures on his -useless life.</p> - -<p>In the meantime Geo was growing daily in the good graces of -Nurse Blunt. No patient of hers, she often told Milly, was more -carefully tended than Mrs. Lummis. Geo was a born nurse, and was -as gentle and dexterous as a woman, and even old Jimmy's grunts -of disapproval failed to convince her that there was "nothin' in -him."</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c13">CHAPTER XIII.</h3> - -<h3>RAIN AT LAST</h3> - -<p>On the following day the heat became almost intolerable. -People went about their work, and got through it somehow, but -everything in nature appeared to be at its last gasp. The farmers -had given up any further hope of a hay crop, and had begun to -feel anxious about the harvest. When night fell the tiny cool -breeze that had sprung up most evenings to refresh the earth a -little was absent—a dead weight was over everything. The -Chapman children were unusually restless, and Tom, tired with his -work, grumbled fretfully as his wife moved about, first consoling -one child and then the other, and rocking the restless infant to -and fro. On such nights as this sleep is well-nigh impossible; -and it was well for Annie that she had the children to attend to, -for her heart was heavy with a terrible foreboding. Merry, -careless Annie was smitten with an unaccountable miserable -feeling of coming calamity. It had been growing and growing ever -since Tom had "taken on" at the well, and to-night it seemed to -have reached its height, and Annie longed most intensely for -morning. Never had a night seemed so long and unbearable.</p> - -<p>The vicar, too, was lying sleepless through the long hot -hours, puzzling over the unexpected strike of the well-diggers, -wondering at their folly, and coming very near the truth when he -thought of the changed aspect of many of his parishioners, when -he remembered the averted looks, the nervous salutations that had -taken the place of the ready smiles, the respectful yet friendly -greetings that only a few short weeks ago met him at every turn. -He had really been almost too busy to notice it; and even now he -thought this notion that he was losing his hold on the affections -of the people he lived for and spent his life for was probably a -creation of his own troubled brain, born of the heat and the -anxiety and overstrain of those same past weeks. The rain could -not be far off now, he thought, for all day long the sky had been -overcast, and a steaming, stifling blanket seemed to have been -thrown over everything. As he tossed and fretted the first heavy -drops pattered on his window-sill. It had come—the blessed, -blessed rain—and the long, hard drought was over!</p> - -<p>He sprang from his bed and stood at the open casement, -listening with delight to the growing volume of water that -splashed down on to the baked earth and ran off the roofs into -the dry, warped water-butts. He stood there, with the welcome -spray leaping up and shooting into his face and dropping on to -his bare feet, till he felt almost cold; and then with a thankful -heart he regained his bed, and for the first time for some nights -fell asleep. What mattered anything now? the rain had -come—Willowton was saved—"the plague was stayed!"</p> - -<p>There were others in the clustering houses in the back streets -who, sitting up with their sick and dying, felt the bands that -had tightened round their weary heads suddenly loosed, felt the -killing physical strain give way as the first drops fell on their -roofs.</p> - -<p>Milly Greenacre, from behind her white dimity curtains, rubbed -her sleepy eyes and turned over again, with the comforting -thought that the rain had at last come. The cattle, lying out in -their baked pastures, lifted their thirsty heads, lowing with -pleasure for the heaven-sent moisture. The birds in the orchard -awoke at dawn, and enjoyed a long-anticipated bath. Milly's white -pigeons came out of their cot, and lay on the little gravel-path, -with wings upturned, enjoying to the full the fall of the great -cool drops. The horses in the far-off farm stables neighed -joyfully at each other, and every creature alive drank in new -life at every pore; even the fever-stricken patients rallied and -gained strength. Soon the grass would grow green again, and the -springs would begin to work, and all would be well. And yet -nothing in the future could undo the past; nothing could give -back to the mourners their loved ones. Willowton had indeed paid -the penalty of its own disregard of the laws of health; but now, -please God, the others would be saved.</p> - -<p>All through the day that followed this blessed night the rain -fell—not quietly, or even with a break, but heavily, -incessantly, and unremittingly. People paddled out in it under -cloaks and umbrellas, and rejoiced with each other. The work at -the well was necessarily suspended for the time, for the rough -wooden shelter over it proved of little protection from the -tropical violence of the rain.</p> - -<p>"That don't kinder rain at all," old Greenacre said; "that -come down whole water."</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c14">CHAPTER XIV.</h3> - -<h3>THE COLLAPSE</h3> - -<p>On the third day the rain abated, and work was resumed at the -well. For the first few hours it went steadily on; but before -noon an awful catastrophe had occurred, and it became known all -over Willowton that the brickwork had fallen in, and that Chapman -and Hayes were entombed under the <i>débris.</i></p> - -<p>---</p> - -<p>Mr. Rutland was at the Workhouse Infirmary when the news -reached him. The doctor was there too, and the two gentlemen -drove off at once to the scene of the disaster, where stood Annie -Chapman with a white drawn face, her baby in her arms and three -other little ones clinging to her skirts as usual. Martin's girl -stood by her. The children were out of school, and they too were -there, a hundred or more of them with wide eyes and horror-struck -faces. What was <i>not</i> there was any sensible, capable man to -take command and keep the crowd back; for it was not yet the -dinner-hour, and the labourers were still in the fields, and -Martin, on the principle that what is important had better be -done by yourself, had rushed off, after sending a boy to fetch -Mr. Rutland, to telegraph to Ipswich for scientific help from the -firm who had supplied Hayes, and who had given advice as to the -mode of proceeding at the outset. Martin returned scarcely a -minute later than Mr. Rutland and the doctor, and hurriedly -informed them of his action in the matter.</p> - -<p>Having made a clear space of some thirty feet or so round the -spot where the unfortunate men were perhaps even now lying with -the life crushed out of them, the doctor threw himself on the -ground and listened anxiously for some sound of life. If they -lived, the men would, of course, shout loudly and untiringly for -assistance; and then—as it was was just possible that, even -if they could not make themselves heard, some sound might reach -them—Mr. Rutland leaned over the chasm and shouted words of -encouragement and cheer. But he might have shouted to the empty -air, for never a sound reached them.</p> - -<p>When one o'clock struck from the church tower the vicar sent -the children to their homes, and with kindly firmness insisted on -Annie Chapman's going back too and getting some refreshment. The -children's needs was a good excuse.</p> - -<p>"I would not keep you away if you wish to come back," he said. -"No one has, alas, a greater right to be here than you. Come when -the children are gone into school again. I will have the -tarpaulin shelter that was taken down on account of the rain put -up again, and you can rest there."</p> - -<p>Annie thanked him with a look; she was beyond speaking, and -seemed dazed. "Martin's gal" went home with her, helped her with -the children's dinner, and came back to watch with her all that -long, weary afternoon.</p> - -<p>It was two hours before the Ipswich man arrived in a carriage -drawn by a strong, fast horse, white with foam, and reeking with -the heat of his rapid run. An assistant quickly unpacked the -apparatus for lowering the men who had volunteered for the -dangerous task of removing the fallen bricks. The accident, the -man said, was due to the violence of the rain, which had -percolated through the earth so quickly that it had loosened the -soil all round the well to a depth of some twenty or thirty feet, -and caused the brickwork to bulge inwards and fall. How far down -the mischief extended, of course, he was as unable to determine -as any one else; but one thing was sufficiently -obvious—that <i>time</i> was everything. Another downfall -would be almost certain destruction, and the unfortunate men, he -said, had two dangers, not one, to contend with. At any moment -the springs might begin to work, and they might have escaped -death from the fall of the well only to be drowned by the rising -water. It was a truly awful predicament, and as it always happens -when a real calamity overtakes any of their mates, those who had -most reviled them for refusing to strike now came forward with -offers of help, and even forbore to make unpleasant remarks of -any sort.</p> - -<p>Corkam, who was, of course, soon on the scene, actually held -his tongue too until the work of rescue was fairly set in hand, -and each man had been told off to his hours of duty, when he -entertained a favoured group with various supercilious remarks, -and an assurance that these things were much better done in -'Meriky. No one, however, paid much attention to him. They -naturally could think of nothing but the horror and the magnitude -of the present catastrophe. Things that had or had not happened -years ago in a foreign country mattered very little to any one -now in the face of this horrible reality; and Martin told him so -pretty plainly, and not a little roughly, with the desirable -result that he went off to the bridge to give his friend Farley -the latest details. And nobody missed him particularly!</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c15">CHAPTER XV.</h3> - -<h3>FRIENDS IN NEED.</h3> - -<p>Next morning Milly Greenacre was making bread in her little -kitchen at the back of the parlour, when an unaccustomed step -sounded on the gravel-path. It was a shy, hesitating sort of -step, and yet it was unmistakably a man's. Milly looked through -the door, and saw Geo Lummis bending his head to enter the porch. -She rubbed some of the flour off her arms and bade him enter.</p> - -<p>"Is it my grandfather you want to see?" she asked him, with -that modest self-possession that never deserted her. "Won't you -sit down?" she added, drawing a chair forward.</p> - -<p>"No, miss, thank you," said Geo shyly; "I can't stop. 'Tain't -your grandfather that I come after; I wanted to see the nurse if -I could."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid she won't be in this forenoon," said Milly. "but -will you leave a message with me? I'll be sure to give it to her -as soon as she comes back."</p> - -<p>"Well, I hardly know as I can leave a message. The truth is," -Geo blurted out suddenly, with a rush of colour into his -fair-skinned face, "I want to go and help at the well, and I -can't leave mother. I was going to ask if she could come now for -a couple of hours and let me go. They are wantin' help badly. I -don't seem as if I <i>could</i> stay quiet while them pore chaps -are underground, dead or alive; that seem as if we must get at -'em as soon as we can.'</p> - -<p>"When do you want to go?" asked Milly, in a matter-of-fact -tone.</p> - -<p>"Now, at once, if I could; but nurse haven't been yet, and -there's a lot to see to and do for mother, and I don't ever leave -her till she is put comfortable for the day. I've jest run over -on the chance of finding nurse; but if she isn't here I s'pose I -must jest go back and wait till she come."</p> - -<p>He made a step towards the door. Milly glanced at the clock: -it was a quarter-past ten.</p> - -<p>"I'll come," she said quietly, "when I've finished laying my -bread. If you go on, I'll be there in twenty minutes, and I'll -wait till nurse comes, and settle with her what can be done."</p> - -<p>He muttered some incoherent thanks, but they were, except for -the sake of his manners, quite unnecessary. The look of -gratitude that he cast on Milly was quite a sufficient expression -of thanks, as far as she was concerned. As he went out she -returned to her bread-making.</p> - -<p>A quarter of an hour later the bread was safe in its earthen -pan, with a snowy cloth laid over it; and Milly had washed her -hands, turned down her sleeves, set a tray on the table in the -parlour, with nurse's glass of milk and some bread and cheese on -it, and had gone in next door to tell her lame neighbour where -she was to be found, and to ask her to explain her absence to her -grandfather if he returned while she was at Mrs. Lummis's, and -also to ask nurse directly she had had her luncheon to call in -and tell her what to do. Milly had heard quite enough of the -relations between Geo and his mother from Nurse Blunt to be quite -certain of her sympathy in the sudden impulsive step she had -taken; and she felt sure grandfather would raise no insuperable -objection now that all available hands were required at the -well.</p> - -<p>So Milly went upstairs and sat down quietly by the bedside of -the sick woman, who was now sufficiently convalescent, in spite -of some serious heart weakness, to take an interest in her -neighbours, and was glad to see the pretty, bright girl she had -often seen and admired at a distance but had never spoken to -before.</p> - -<p>"I promised your son to stop till nurse comes," Milly said -pleasantly, "so I hope you will let me do so."</p> - -<p>The sick woman smiled her willingness, and Geo, with renewed -efforts at expressing his thanks, departed.</p> - -<p>In the meantime there was trouble at the well. The work of -rescue had been going on all night, and the men were giving out. -Martin, toil-stained and weary, was still there, but the work was -practically for the time at a standstill. The men were in -absolute need of rest. When Geo reached the scene the director -from Ipswich had given the order for a break-off in ten minutes -for five hours rest. He was surveying, with some anxiety, the -relief men who had arrived in answer to an urgent telegram he had -sent a few hours ago. They were weedy-looking, dissipated -fellows, and to judge by the director's face were evidently not -the material he required.</p> - -<p>"We must do the best we can with what we can get," he was -saying to the doctor, who stood at a little distance holding his -impatient horse by the bridle. "These men must be kept from the -drink, and then they may do. At any rate, we must take them on -this morning; but what I want is a strong, active, light-built -young fellow, who won't lose his head in an emergency, and will -do as he is told without hesitation."</p> - -<p>Geo stepped forward. He had been near enough to hear these -last words.</p> - -<p>"Will I do, sir?"</p> - -<p>Both men faced round at once, and Geo often told Milly -afterwards that one of the hardest moments of his life was that -when he caught the expression of the doctor's face. It expressed -so much contempt, surprise, and distrust that he was cut to the -quick, and once more within a few minutes the hot blood surged -into his face. But the director's words softened the -sting,—-</p> - -<p>"Do? Why, you're just the man. Who are you, and what do you -know about the work?"</p> - -<p>"My name's Lummis," said Geo, looking him straight in the -face, but avoiding the doctor's eye, "and I don't know nothin' -about the work; but I heard what you said just now, and I'll do -what you tell me to."</p> - -<p>"All right, then; and as to wages—-"</p> - -<p>"Never mind about the wages, sir, thank you," said Geo -respectfully; "whatever you give the others will do for me. I'm -ready any time."</p> - -<p>"Well, off with your coat, then, and come."</p> - -<p>Geo had his coat off and hung up in the tent in a trice, and -was carefully lowered into the well, seated astride on a board, -one hand on the rope and in the other a pail.</p> - -<p>"Now, then, Lummis," said the director, when he was -sufficiently deep down the reach the <i>débris</i>, "hook your -pail on to the hook on your board, and lean over and pick off -carefully anything you can reach. Be careful to bear no weight on -anything or the whole thing will collapse."</p> - -<p>"I understand, sir," said Geo, his voice sounding strangely -hollow to himself from the depths of the well.</p> - -<p>Carefully and dexterously Geo detached bricks, and with a -small scoop ladled the earth into his pail, and as soon as it was -filled he detached it from his board and hooked it on to another -hook that dangled from the windlass; and while it was being drawn -up, emptied and returned, he raised himself to a sitting posture -and stretched his back as best he could, for he had not been long -at work before his limbs ached considerably with their unwonted -toil. Two hours went by, and still Geo worked on patiently, and -often painfully, till the director blew his whistle, and he was -hauled up for a welcome rest. Then one of the other men was -lowered, and so the work went on, and by nightfall an immense -quantity of soil had been removed, but as yet the men below had -given no sign.</p> - -<p>It was during this long terrible time of suspense that Mr -Rutland learned part of the secret of Tom Chapman's love of his -apparently feckless, untidy wife. Annie still remained untidy, it -is true—she had never been anything else—but she -certainly was not feckless.</p> - -<p>As soon as it was daylight each morning she appeared, asking -only the most absolutely necessary questions, and receiving the -dispiriting answers without a murmur. At seven o'clock she would -go home, give the children their breakfast, and get them ready -for school; but she was back again at her post before long, there -to wait and do any little kind acts or odd jobs for the men, and -going on any little errands into the village. In spite of her -evident suffering she kept up a brave, even cheerful appearance. -Punctually as the school broke up she went away again for a -couple of hours. The doctor, to his great surprise, found her to -be clever with her fingers, quick to learn how to bind up a cut -or bathe a bad bruise; for the work of the rescuers was no easy -task, and in their determined efforts to let nothing drop they -often did themselves little trifling injuries which were all the -better for being treated at once. Everybody was very kind to her, -and her boy Tom up at the Union was getting through his fever -well. There were crumbs of comfort to be gathered on the way, -and Annie was not the woman to refuse them.</p> - -<p>She too had shared the doctor's surprise when Geo Lummis -appeared on the scene as an eager recruit, but unlike the doctor, -she showed no sign of it; and when Geo stepped into the tent to -hang up his coat, she smiled at him such an entirely approving, -grateful, and encouraging smile, that it for the moment wiped out -the doctors scorn. Geo knew Tom Chapman, and did not care about -him; but for the sake of Tom's wife, he felt now that he would -risk anything to restore her husband to her.</p> - -<p>There are some natures that seem to require some extraordinary -circumstance or moral earthquake to "draw them out." Geo's was -evidently one of these. He was being distinctly drawn out -now—the real Geo was bursting out of his chrysalis. Corkam -and "all his works" receded very far as he felt himself swing -down into the well.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c16">CHAPTER XVI.</h3> - -<h3>AN ANXIOUS SUNDAY.</h3> - -<p>At last it was Sunday morning, and the men had now been -forty-eight hours in the well. A rumour had got about that they -were still alive. The bells rang out for service as usual, and -Milly brushed her grandfather's well-worn beaver hat, settled his -necktie, and pulled down his coat, just as she had done for the -last eight years, and they went off to church together. Somehow -it seemed wonderful to Milly that anything should go on as it had -done last week, for every one in the village was felling the -strain of the anxiety caused by the prolonging of the terrible -situation of the entombed men.</p> - -<p>Geo Lummis and Martin and two other men had been working all -night, and just as the "tolling in" began a relief gang arrived, -and the four tired men came trooping through the churchyard, as -being the shortest cut to their homes. Milly, with several other -people, stood aside to let them pass. They looked worn out and -weary, toil-stained and depressed. Nobody spoke, and they none of -them lifted their eyes as they passed; they were too dead beat -for greeting of any sort. Milly cast a glance at Geo. She was -beginning to take a very lively interest in that young man, for -Geo, seen through his weak but loving mother's spectacles, was a -very different person from Geo seen through her grandfather's -somewhat prejudiced glasses. Anyway, he was behaving well now, -and there was no need to look back.</p> - -<p>The doctor, who accompanied them as far as the gate, now -returned, and affirmed the rumour that it had been satisfactorily -ascertained that <i>one</i> of the unfortunate men, at least, was -alive—that shouts and knocking had been distinctly heard, -but that as yet no means of communication had been effected. -This, however, he hoped would be done in the course of an hour or -two, and he expected to have really good news for them when they -came out of church.</p> - -<p>Nobody ever quite knew how that service was got through. Most -people tried their best to follow, but each one was conscious of -a divided attention. Every one was listening with at least one -ear for the shout that they knew would go up when the expected -communication was affected.</p> - -<p>It came at last! The vicar had just gone up to the pulpit and -given out his text when though the open doors came the distant -shout "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah-h-h!" Many among the congregation -started to their feet, some fell to their knees, and others -sobbed audibly. The vicar paused with uplifted hand to secure -silence till the shouts ceased, and then addressed the -people.</p> - -<p>"There will be no sermon this morning," he said. "I think your -own thankful thoughts will be more appropriate than any words of -mine;" and after a short prayer of thanksgiving, he gave the -blessing and dismissed the congregation.</p> - -<p>"Not, I beg and pray of you," he said, "to rush off to the -scene of action, where your presence can be of no service to the -unfortunate men, and for the moment will only hinder the efforts -of their rescuers. Leave them a little while, is my advice, till -the excitement has cooled down, and then take your places quietly -beyond the barrier if you will; but I implore you to remember -that the men who are working at the relief want cool heads and -steady nerves, and they have come fresh to the work, and at -present want no encouraging shouts or chaff to keep them going, -as our brave fellows did last night when they hardly knew how to -go on."</p> - -<p>The vicar's advice was good, and, for example's sake, he -denied himself the pleasure of hurrying off to the well, and many -of his congregation refrained also. It was then twelve o'clock, -and by three that afternoon the rescue gang reached the cylinder -twenty feet below the surface by tunnelling, only to discover, to -their intense dismay, that a mass of woodwork had fallen on to -the mouth of it, and that rescue that way was impossible. The -foreman, however, managed in a clever way to pull out a small -piece of loose wood, and calling down to the men below received -the welcome answer, "We are all right, but are in three feet of -water. Couldn't you get us a drink?"</p> - -<p>The foreman shouted up the message, and in a trice a dozen -willing messengers were running to the village, returning -speedily with jugs of such various liquors as their personal -tastes and means suggested. There were beer, porter, milk, -brandy, cocoa, cider; but the doctor, who had been on the scene -all morning with his improvised ambulance, insisted on milk and -beaten up eggs with brandy. The tidings, of course, soon spread, -not only over Willowton, but to all the neighbouring villages, -and the half-dozen policemen who were on duty had their work cut -out for them in keeping the crowd from coming inside the ropes. -As it was, every tree in the vicinity was thick with boys and -men, and every fence and bank that offered any point of vantage -was a mass of eager lookers-on.</p> - -<p>Now it was that the most dangerous work was to begin. It was -decided to endeavour to reach the men by making a hole in the top -of the cylinder, and three men were lowered with ropes around -them, and instructed to remove the soil in pails. This they did -with the greatest care, so as to prevent any falling back—a -danger that was very likely to occur. At the end of an hour and a -half a slight slip occurred, and the entombed men called out that -the mould was coming down upon them.</p> - -<p>"You're goin' to cover us up and ha' done with us," said -Hayes, with a feeble attempt at jocosity; "but give us a drink -first."</p> - -<p>"Sartinly, sartinly, that we will," said one of the men -encouragingly, and a few minutes later a bottle of the -"egg-flip," with a covered light attached to it, was lowered -through the aperture, and the work began again.</p> - -<p>It was nearly half-past seven when the men were again spoken -to. They seemed to be losing heart. They had knocked the light -out, they said, and they were wet through and wanted to come -up.</p> - -<p>"So you shall, my boys," shouted the foreman, "as soon as we -can get you." And with that they had to be content.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c17">CHAPTER XVII.</h3> - -<h3>GEO TO THE FORE AGAIN.</h3> - -<p>All through the middle of the day, till six o'clock, Geo -Lummis slept. At three o'clock Nurse Blunt came over to Mildred -and asked her to go to Mrs. Lummis.</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't trouble her, Mr. Greenacre," she said, as old -Jimmy began to gabble and grumble, "but I <i>must</i> go to the -opposite side of the of the parish, and Mrs. Lummis is in that -stage when she must be attended to. Your granddaughter will have -nothing to do but give her he brandy and milk at the proper -times. She has done it before, and I can trust her, which is more -than I can say for most of the girls I have had to do with. -You'll have to let her go."</p> - -<p>So grandfather made no further demur, and Milly changed her -Sunday gown for a work-a-day one, and went off on her errand of -mercy accompanied by the nurse.</p> - -<p>"That young Lummis is there dead asleep," nurse said as they -went along. "Mind you don't wake him going upstairs; he's in the -room opposite his mother's, you know. Not that you need be much -afraid of disturbing him," she added—"they mostly sleep for -hours when they come off work like that—but when you do -hear him moving, you'd better slip down and get him a cup of tea -ready and some cold meat and bread. I've seen to that; it's in -the cupboard to the right of the stove. He should be at work -again by seven."</p> - -<p>"Very well," said Milly; "I'll see to it."</p> - -<p>So when Geo woke out of his heavy sleep at six o'clock, he, -through the open window, could hear the kettle singing on the -little stove in the back-house below, and some one moving softly -about. There was a comforting sound about it, and he stretched -his long limbs luxuriously. Just then the church clock struck the -half-hour. He raised himself with a yawn. "Half-past—what -was it?" He reached out for the large silver watch that was in -the pocket of his coat that hung over the chair. It was half-past -six! He flung himself off the bed, dipped his head in a basin of -cold water, rubbed it hard with a rough towel, washed his -earth-stained hands, and strode across the little passage to his -mother's room. She was sleeping peacefully, and he slipped -quietly downstairs. Milly stood in the little kitchen, a kettle -in her hand, and a tray with a white cloth stood on the table -before her. Geo started with astonishment.</p> - -<p>"I thought I should have to wake you at last!" she said shyly, -as he took the kettle from her; "it was getting so late."</p> - -<p>Geo did not answer very relevantly; he was still lost in -astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Have you done all this?" he said, pointing to the tray.</p> - -<p>"No; nurse got it ready before she went. I am only making the -tea."</p> - -<p>"Well I take it very kind of you, miss," said Geo heartily. -"P'raps you'll have a cup yourself?"</p> - -<p>Milly was not sorry, and the two sat down in the little -kitchen, which, though hot, was the coolest room in the -house—the sun was on the other side. They looked out on a -little garden to the meadows, in which the grass had begun to -grow again. The sound of the running water seemed cool and -inviting.</p> - -<p>"That looks nice out there, don't it?" Geo said, when he had -swallowed his third cup of tea and made havoc of the bread and -meat. "I s'pose you can get your can filled nowadays after the -rain without any help?"</p> - -<p>Milly laughed.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, there's water enough now; I can reach it easily."</p> - -<p>Geo actually looked disappointed.</p> - -<p>"I meant I'd ha' liked to ha' got it for you," he said -simply.</p> - -<p>"There goes the quarter-to," said Milly for an answer; "you've -not got too much time."</p> - -<p>"Time enough to have a look round, if you'll come," he said, -getting up and looking down on her shyly from his superior -height.</p> - -<p>Milly made no objection, but took up her hat, which she had -left in the inner room, and the two strolled out into the -meadows.</p> - -<p>Geo pointed to the chimneys of Milly's home, which could be -seen across the stream, perhaps a quarter of a mile away.</p> - -<p>"If you'll walk up as far as that with me, I could jump across -into your orchard, if you don't object, and I'll be punctual at -the well. That's a lot shorter than goin' round by the -village."</p> - -<p>Milly thought her grandfather would probably object very much, -but she risked it, for she thought a little walk along the -water-side with that "lazy, idle good-for-nothing" would be -rather pleasant. As they went along they talked about the well. -The worst and most dangerous work was to come.</p> - -<p> "Some one, you see, must go down after them poor chaps," Geo -explained. "You see they'll be so cramped and done up they'll -never get themselves safe through the opening; for I expect -that'll have to be a precious small one from what I see when I -left, and you say they've not got at 'em yet."</p> - -<p>"No," said Milly; "my grandfather called round an hour ago, -and he said the hole wasn't no bigger than what would admit an -ordinary man, and that they were binding it round with straw and -making it as strong as they could, because that man Hayes is so -big they're frightened he should break it down, and father said -nobody seemed as if they wanted to try it."</p> - -<p>"Not a doubt about that," said Geo, tightening his lips.</p> - -<p>Something in his voice made Milly glance up at him. The look -on his face was the same one that Mr. Rutland had surprised on it -a year ago.</p> - -<p>"You're never going to do it yourself?" she exclaimed -involuntarily.</p> - -<p>"Not unless I have to," Geo answered quietly, and speaking as -if to himself. "But it's got to be done, and I'm not a married -man. Martin is, and so are the other two."</p> - -<p>Milly did not answer. To those who follow dangerous callings -in all ranks of life such an argument is unanswerable. Milly -understood, and said nothing.</p> - -<p>They had reached the gate where Geo had sat and watched Milly -vainly endeavouring to reach the water only a very short time ago -now. The blossom was off the May, of course, but the half-starved -buttercups were enjoying a second season.</p> - -<p>"That's were you stood," said Geo, following out his own -thoughts as he opened the gate for her to pass through before -him. He nodded across to the overhanging thorn.</p> - -<p>"You did take me by surprise then," said Milly, smiling as she -conjured up the scene.</p> - -<p> "And there's the billy-goat. He've got more to eat now than -he had then; but, all the same, I was jealous of him then. I'd -ha' liked to ha' been in his hide jest for the minute when he was -rubbin' his head against you, and you was coaxin' and pettin' of -him, that I would!"</p> - -<p>Geo was getting on and no mistake!</p> - -<p>"Well, he's jealous of you now," said Milly, with some -confusion, as the animal, recognizing her voice, strained at his -chain and bleated piteously.</p> - -<p>What Geo's next move might have been is unknown, as just at -that critical moment the tiresome church clock boomed out the -hour, and Geo pulled himself together.</p> - -<p>"I must go," he said. "I don't like to be late on a job like -this," and before Milly could answer he had sprung across. He -turned and gave her a nod as he picked up his cap, which had -fallen off, and set off running towards the house. Milly waved -her good-bye, and returned slowly through the meadows. The -neglected goat bleated imploringly after her, but she never heard -it.</p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c18">CHAPTER XVIII.</h3> - -<h3>THE RESCUE</h3> - -<p>It was eight o'clock, and the crowd that had come and gone -during the afternoon had now gathered again in force. It was -known all round that the critical moment had arrived. Everything -was ready; the supreme act of bringing the men to the surface -alone remained to be accomplished. The rope was carefully -lowered, and the watchers held their breath.</p> - -<p>For some minutes the rope dangled, now and then becoming taut -for a moment, and then hanging limp again. It was evident that -something was wrong.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" the foreman shouted anxiously.</p> - -<p>"We can't do it," came a voice from the bottom.</p> - -<p>"We're too stiff; we can't get hold."</p> - -<p>There was a silence for what seemed an interminable space -after these words.</p> - -<p>"Some one must go down to them," said the foreman slowly, his -own face growing very white. He knew that whoever went down might -be passing to instant death; for though everything that could be -done had been done to render the passage safe, yet he had hoped -against hope that the necessity of a passage <i>down</i> would be -avoided. He was a great stout fellow himself, and not so active -as Hayes, who he had trusted, would squeeze himself through.</p> - -<p>During that pause the workmen looked questioningly at each -other, and no one read in his mate's face any desire to try the -dangerous experiment. The crowd listened again breathlessly. The -foreman cast an imploring look around.</p> - -<p>"Won't anybody volunteer?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I will."</p> - -<p>It was Geo Lummis who spoke, and a burst of approbation broke -from the bystanders.</p> - -<p>It was as well the men below were in ignorance of the -immediate and extreme danger they were suddenly exposed to by the -lowering of a third person into the abyss; for their position was -this:—The woodwork which had fallen over the mouth of the -cylinder had held up the fallen earth when the wall caved in. -This mould was now removed, and by the extraordinary skill and -care of those engaged in the difficult task the woodwork had not -shifted; but it remained to be seen whether the bad passage of a -man working his way down with practically no light go guide him, -and with the chance of dislodging odd pieces that had stuck fast -in their fall, would not bring the whole thing upon their heads -and his own, and, as Hayes put it, "finish the job and have done -with them."</p> - -<p>Geo was fully alive to the danger as he adjusted the rope -round his body, put his foot into the loop, and gave the command -to "lower away." At first he went down very slowly, and then came -the order to "lower faster," and the crowd grasped the welcome -fact that there was no insuperable obstruction in the -cylinder.</p> - -<p>For a short space of time there was an ominous silence, and -then a closed lamp was let down, and the foreman's face cleared. -One part of the difficulty had been surmounted; he began to feel -more confident of success.</p> - -<p>---</p> - -<p>In the meantime Geo had reached the bottom, and found the men -supporting each other as best they could, but stiff and chilled -with their long immersion in three feet of water.</p> - -<p>Hayes tried to raise a feeble cheer, but Chapman was past any -attempt at cheerfulness. He had sunk into a sort of sullen -apathy. Neither of them was capable of helping himself. At first -both men wanted to come up at once, and Geo found himself -suddenly confronted with an unforeseen difficulty. Chapman was -obviously delirious, and Hayes was showing signs of losing his -temper.</p> - -<p><i>"One at a time,"</i>said Geo decidedly. "Can't you see -there's no room for two?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Hayes at last, "you can send up him; he's pretty -nigh done for, and he've got a missus and little 'uns. Only hurry -up and due it."</p> - -<p>Geo lost no time in securing Chapman as best he could, and -with a stern command to him (for he seemed to have completely -lost his nerve) to hold on tight and keep his body straight, he -chucked at the rope to show all was right, and with a beating -heart watched him being drawn higher and higher, till he had -passed safely through the aperture. Then he turned to Hayes. This -was no time for sentiment, and neither of the men indulged in -it.</p> - -<p>Hayes had his pipe between his teeth. It had long ago been -guiltless of tobacco, but it was comforting, all the same. He did -not remove it, and he said nothing to Geo, but signified his -gratitude by a nod, and what under happier circumstances might -have been a wink.</p> - -<p>When the rope reappeared he seized it, with Geo's assistance, -made himself fast, and gave the signal for going up.</p> - -<p>Geo saw the soles of Hayes's big boots rise over his own head -with eyes that dilated with something like fear, and a heart that -thumped audibly against his ribs, as for a few moments his own -fate hung in the balance. Hayes's broad shoulders, even with the -greatest care, might refuse to pass through the aperture without -dislodging some of the fallen timber; such a little would send it -down on his head. It would be a horrible death, for he would see -it coming—coming—coming before it fell, and Geo -didn't want to die. The possible nearness of death flashed into -his mind, and he scarcely dared look when Hayes reached the hole, -and a few broken straws, loosened by his passage through it, -floated down on to his upturned face. The ominous words, "You'll -cover us up and ha' done with us," occurred to him again with -terrible persistence. Minute after minute passed, and the rope -did not reappear. Impossible but horrible thought, were they so -much taken up with Chapman and Hayes that they had forgotten -him?</p> - -<p>Geo had stepped on to one of the turned-over pails on which -the other men had been standing, and the water had reached up to -his knees when he had given Hayes his parting shove. He now -noticed with surprise that it had suddenly reached considerably -over them. He glanced apprehensively to the sides of the well. It -was perfectly evident that the water had risen. Higher, higher it -crept, till it nearly reached his waist, and then the awful truth -flashed on him. <i>The springs had begun to work!</i></p> - - -<br><br><br> <h3 id="c19">CHAPTER XIX</h3> - -<h3>GEO AGAIN SURPRISES HIMSELF AND HIS FRIENDS.</h3> - -<p>It was perhaps just as well that Geo was an inexperienced -well-sinker, and that he did not know the horrible danger he was -in, or with what fearful rapidity a long-dry spring sometimes -rises when once it has begun to move; but he shuddered with -apprehension as the cold water crept up to his arm-pits, and as -it touched his shoulders flesh and blood could stand no more, and -he lifted up his voice and shouted with a shout that shook the -frail supports above him till he trembled once more for their -endurance.</p> - -<p>It is said that a drowning man sees all his life pass in -review before his mental vision, and a wave of remorse for lost -opportunities and wasted days swept over him as he stood on the -brink, as it were, of eternity. And all the time those ominous -words of Hayes were ringing—ringing—ringing in his -ears—those ears that soon would be covered with the -creeping icy flood. At last! at last! After an eternity of agony -the aperture was once more was once more darkened; something was -coming down—quick, quicker, the rope was running out from -the windlass. Thank God, it had a bucket on the end of it. Splash -it went in the water, and filling, sank immediately. Geo shouted -as he grasped the rope with his strong hands, twisted his legs -round it below, and as they drew him up slid his half-numbed feet -into the bucket.</p> - -<p>---</p> - -<p>I don't think that any one who was present will ever forget -the moments when Geo's white face appeared above the brickwork, -and his dripping garments told the tale of his terrible -predicament; for Geo for the moment was past speech, and there -went up from the crowd such a roar of admiration and delight as -Willowton had never heard before. And there was such a rush of -the foremost bystanders to shake their hero by the hand that the -policemen had their work cut out for them with a vengeance, for -the enthusiasm had passed all bounds.</p> - -<p>The foreman had said, "Don't make a fuss when they come up," -when the other men had been drawn to the surface; for he had seen -similar accidents before, and he knew that the men's nerves would -not be in a state to stand much excitement. The crowd had behaved -in an exemplary manner, and except for the summarily-squashed -cheering of a few thoughtless boys, they had been allowed to pass -quietly to the conveyances that awaited them, assisted by the -parish doctor and a couple more medical men from Ipswich. But it -was not to be expected or desired that they would treat Geo in -the same way. Martin and Cadger managed the rope, and as he -reached the surface Mr. Barlow and the vicar were there to greet -him.</p> - -<p>"You're a brave fellow, Geo," said the vicar, grasping his -hand, while the farmer patted him kindly on the back.—"Now, -then," he shouted, waving his hat to the crowd, "three cheers for -the gallant rescuer. Hip, hip, hip, hur-rah-h!" and once more the -ringing cheers rang out.</p> - -<p>Geo began to feel shy and looked about for a chance of escape, -but there was none. He found himself standing with a little group -in a clear space into which the vigilant police allowed no one to -intrude. Just then a diversion occurred. Over the cheers came the -strident discordant sound of a motor horn, and across the common -flashed a car, which pulled up sharply, and a gentleman sprang -out. The police recognized him, the crowd made way, and he -hurried up to the group round the well. It was the dowser. His -arrival was well-timed, and among the crowd there were some who -knew him before, and without much difficulty he pushed his way -through to the enclosure, and in obedience to a signal from Mr -Rutland the policeman allowed him to pass under the rope. He -looked pale and anxious.</p> - -<p>"Is it all right?" he shouted when the car stopped.</p> - -<p>A welcome "Yis, yis, master," allayed his fears.</p> - -<p>He had followed the movements of the rescuers eagerly since -his daily paper had given him news of the catastrophe; but being -a busy man, it was not till this morning that he had been able to -get away from his work, and had left his home in Gloucestershire -almost at break of dawn. Motors are not infallible, and his car -had broken down at Swindon; and it being Sunday, there had been -great difficulties and consequent delay in getting it -repaired.</p> - -<p>Mr Wilman's eye fell naturally on the central figure of the -group, Geo Lummis.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" he exclaimed, "I was right: there <i>is</i> water in -your well!" for Geo was dripping, and the water was running off -his clothes and trickling slowly away on the dry soil.</p> - -<p>"Indeed there is sir, and more'n I cared about!" said Geo -dubiously.</p> - -<p>"I recognize you," said the dowser, smiling. "You are the -young man who followed me with Mr. Barlow on the search."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," said Geo quietly, and shivering as he spoke.</p> - -<p>"You're cold, boy," said Martin. "Hev some a' th' doctor's -stuff," and he handed a glass of the egg-flip to him. Geo drank -it off, and wrung out his trousers.</p> - -<p>"Can't we disperse the crowd now?" said Mr. Rutland to the -constables; "I should like to get him away."</p> - -<p>"Not yet awhile, sir," said the constable, with a knowing -look. "They're taking round the hat for him, and he deserve it, -that he do," he added emphatically. "Best leave 'em a few -minutes, if you've no objection sir."</p> - -<p>Mr. Rutland had no objection, but Geo himself <i>had</i>.</p> - -<p>As a rule, Geo was, as we know, easy-going to a fault, and -fell in too readily with anything and everything that his friends -liked to suggest; but to his own surprise as much as that of any -of the bystanders at these words, which he could not help -overhearing, all his pride rose in revolt. His face flushed with -sudden red, and his voice rang out with a loud and peremptory -<i>"Stop that!"</i></p> - -<p>The men who were collecting turned and stared. They were not -accustomed to refusals on occasions of this kind, and Geo's -sudden bursting into notice astounded them.</p> - -<p>"I take it very kind of you all," roared Geo, as if he had -been accustomed to address a constituency, "but I'd rather you -didn't give me nothin'. What I've done any on you would ha' done -if I hain't a-been by, and I've liked myself wonderful all this -last week, and I find I'm gettin' 'mazin' partial to work." -(Cheers and laughter.) "Yes, you may laugh; there do 'pear a bit -funny, I'll own, but that's the truth, and nothin' but the truth, -and I—I—I mean to <i>work like a good 'un!</i>"</p> - -<p>He ended rather lamely, but the crowd took up the cheers -again, and, police or no police, half a dozen strong young -fellows broke through the barrier, hoisted Geo on their -shoulders, and carried him right away up the village to the tramp -of many feet and the tune of "For he's a jolly good fellow," and -nobody raised a protest even in the sacred cause of order.</p> - -<p>Milly Greenacre stood at her garden gate as the stream went -by; old Jimmy looked out of his bedroom window in his cotton -night-cap, and cheered in his cracked old voice.</p> - -<p>All his life long Geo will remember the dim outline of Milly's -figure, white against the background of the lilac bushes, and the -quaint, whimsical face of the old man peering into the darkness, -and looking at him, for the first time of his life, with -approval. It was only an instantaneous snapshot from the lanterns -carried by some of the party that revealed the picture to him, -but it was photographed for ever on his brain, and it was not one -of the least among the pleasurable things Geo looked back to when -all the excitement was over, and he had settled down to steady -work as he said he would.</p> - -<br><br><br> - -<h3 id="c20">CHAPTER XX.</h3> - -<h3>CONCLUSION.</h3> - -<p>It is often said that no great work can be accomplished -without some correspondingly great sacrifice, and the fever was -not stamped out and the water supply made pure without the -suffering of an innocent victim in the good cause. And scarcely -had the excitement over the accident at the well abated, when -Willowton learned that one of the chief directors of the -movement—their vicar—was dangerously ill. The long -strain, physical and mental, of his resolute fight for the right, -the senseless opposition his flock had met him with all through -those weary months of work and disappointment, had told on him at -last, and when the moment of victory came he succumbed, and three -days later he was raging in the delirium of fever. And then, but -only then, the wiseacres of the village remarked to each other -that they had "minded he looked wonderful quare the last few -Sundays—kind a' dazed like;" and the old women had noticed -his thin cheeks and restless eye. Yet none of them had ever -thought of saying a kind word to him when he called at their -cottages, and all had greeted him with the sullen manner they had -adopted, as if by common consent, since he had begun his crusade -against dirt and insanitariness.</p> - -<p>On the evening of that day the doctor's dogcart stopped at -Mrs. Lummis's door. He had been such a frequent visitor there -during her illness that nobody attached any importance to his -visit; though Mrs. Lummis was up and about again, but not yet -able to do entirely for herself. But the neighbours did stare -when, a quarter of an hour later, Geo came out with a bundle and -climbed into the cart alongside him, and drove away up the -village with him. And they would have stared harder if they had -known whither Geo was bound.</p> - -<p>Geo and his mother were sitting at their evening meal when the -doctor had knocked at their door. And they were not alone; Milly -Greenacre was with them. The three were laughing merrily over the -old lady's reminiscences of her "courting" days, and there was a -pleasant sense of comfort and happiness in the air.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry to interrupt you, Mrs. Lummis," said the doctor, -putting his kindly face in at the door, "but I have come to ask -you for your nurse."</p> - -<p>"Come in, sir, come in," said Mrs. Lummis, rising; and the -doctor complied, Geo closing the door behind him.</p> - -<p>"But nurse have been gone these two days, sir," she said -wonderingly.</p> - -<p>"Ah yes. It's not Nurse Blunt I want; it is this good fellow -here," looking at Geo, who got very red and looked extremely -uncomfortable. "The truth is," went on the doctor, "it is not a -woman I want, but a <i>man</i>, for the vicar; he is desperately -ill, you know."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, we've heard," said Mrs. Lummis sympathetically. -"That's a bad job, poor gentleman, I'm sure; but—-"</p> - -<p>"Now, look here," said the doctor, cutting short any possible -objections, "this is a matter of life or death; there is no time -to lose.—Will you or will you not come?" turning to -Geo.</p> - -<p>"Me, sir! I am sure I don't know. I don't know nothin' about -nursing. I—-"</p> - -<p>"You know quite enough. Nurse Blunt will be there when she -can, and Mrs. Crowe will do her best. But the truth is, the poor -man is violent. It is a strong man I want, with a steady nerve -and a good temper. You, I think can answer to this description, -and I think, after the pluck and ability you showed during the -past week, that I can trust you."</p> - -<p>Geo's eyes gleamed for a moment under their downcast lids, and -he looked at his mother and Milly for inspiration; and the -doctor's keen eye noticed with amusement that he sought Milly's -counsel first.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you must go," said Milly warmly, answering the look. -"That would be a shame not to go to him. If only I was a -man—-"</p> - -<p>"Which you need not wish at all, Milly," said the doctor, -laughing, for he had known Milly all her life. "You had better -come and help Mrs. Lummis a bit every day, and let her son -go.—Come along, Geo; put your night things together and let -us be off." And so, as Mrs. Lummis expressed it afterwards, "the -doctor was so terrible masterful he took him off before my own -eyes as if he'd a-been no more'n a child!"</p> - -<p>But Geo proved no child, and, indeed, it was no child's work -he had to perform. For several nights he and Mrs. Crowe sat up -with the sick man, who, until the fever had spent itself, was so -strong that Geo had to put forth all his strength at times to -hold him when the fits of delirium came on. Then came the -inevitable weakness that follows fever, and so for a fortnight -the vicar of Willowton lay between life and death.</p> - -<p>"Quiet, nothing but absolute quiet, can save him," the doctor -said. And so the bells were not rung for service; the carts and -other vehicles that generally came rattling past the vicarage -gate were now turned back at the top of the street, for a -faithful guard was always set there to stop all traffic that -way.</p> - -<p>It was old Greenacre's idea. "That there rattlin' is 'mazin' -bad for the 'hid,'" he said—"I mind that whin I was ill -threugh bein' thrown off a wagon when I was a booy—and they -didn't ought ter pass this way." So he established himself on a -chair under the shadow of the garden wall, and sat patiently -watching the egress through many a long hour, keeping the street. -"Jest like a beggar with a tin mug and a paper pinned on his -chist," said Corkam, who couldn't resist a sneer. But old Jimmy -was not there all day, for there were grateful convalescents in -the persons of Tom Chapman and his friends, who took their turn -as sentry.</p> - -<p>So the sick man, so carefully tended within and so guarded -without, still hung on between life and death. And as he lay -there powerless and speechless, that fickle jade Popularity stole -back to his side. Shyly, shamefacedly, almost fearfully, people -began to speak well of the man who was in all probability going -to give his life for their well-being. He had had the grace to -"ketch th' faver" just like one of themselves, and it was going -as hard with him as it had gone with many of their own flesh and -blood.</p> - -<p>"He warn't so bad after all," they allowed. "'Twarn't so much -his fault that there well fell in." They even remembered how he -had watched and prayed by the sick-beds. They went so far as to -hope he "wouldn't be took." And the doctor, who read them like a -book, smiled to himself as he watched the poison of prejudice -gradually dying in their hearts, and common sense and a small -measure of justice stealing back into their perverted minds.</p> - -<p>At last came a day when the good man came gaily down the -staircase and opened the door with the welcome words, "A decided -change for the better. Please God, we'll pull him through now." -And a subdued murmur of joy arose from the little crowd of women -and children that gathered every morning round the house to see -the doctor go away and hear the latest news.</p> - -<p>Foremost among these was Annie Chapman—hard working, -untidy, cheery Annie. She has improved very little in any respect -except in her household arrangements; but though no power on -earth could ever succeed in making her tidy, cleanliness has -become her ruling passion. She scrubs, and rubs, and washes -everything she can lay her hands on, and no future outbreak of -fever or any other disease shall ever, she declares, be laid to -her door. So out of evil will come good, and the Willowton of the -future promises to be a very different place from the fever haunt -it has been for the past half-century, if the doctor and the -vicar and Annie Chapman can make it so.</p> - -<p>And now there only remains for us to see how things fared with -Geo Lummis, who so suddenly found himself acting so important a -part in the annals of the village. Dr. Davies was anxious to keep -him under his eye as a professional man-nurse; but Geo struck at -that. He was very glad, he said, to have been of use to the -gentlemen, both of them, but sick-nursing was no work for him. He -pined for the fresh air and the open fields, and, if the truth -must be known, for the ripple of the water under the bridge. Not -that he meant to return either to his old ways or his old -companions, for he has done with Corkam for ever; and Milly -Greenacre and he have made their minds to be married as soon as -the vicar is well enough to marry them. And as if wonders would -never cease, Milly's scruples about leaving her old grandfather -alone have all been removed in the most unexpected manner. While -Geo has been nursing the vicar all the past month, old Jimmy had -been spending all his odd moments with Mrs. Lummis, with the -result that he and Geo are going to play at "puss in the corner," -and there are going to be two weddings instead of one! Geo is -coming to live in the Greenacres' pretty cottage, and old Jimmy -is going to hang up his hat on Geo's old peg in his mother's -house. A more satisfactory arrangement of all parties could not -be imagined: for Jimmy has saved quite a little hoard of money, -enough to keep him comfortable, he hopes, for the rest of his -life; and Geo has been taken on as a farm labourer by Mr. Barlow, -with the promise of an extra teamster's place, and he is looking -forward to getting his seven pounds for the harvest which is now -about to begin, after which he and Milly are to be made man and -wife.</p> - -<p>THE END</p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water-Finders, by Unknown - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-FINDERS *** - -***** This file should be named 55506-h.htm or 55506-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/5/0/55506/ - -Produced by Jeff Hunt -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/55506-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/55506-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 88b5966..0000000 --- a/old/55506-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55506-h/images/front.jpg b/old/55506-h/images/front.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index cf9bc71..0000000 --- a/old/55506-h/images/front.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55506-h/images/nurse.jpg b/old/55506-h/images/nurse.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index af29ca9..0000000 --- a/old/55506-h/images/nurse.jpg +++ /dev/null |
