Through the Flood. The story of 'An out-of-the-way place.'

Front matter

L Joan ran off to pick flowers by tlie river side, leaving lier sister alone cm tbe bridgi Page 3. THROUGH THE FLOOD THE STORY OF AN OUT-OF-THE-WAY PLACE BY ESME STUART — v AUTHOR OF 'THE PRISONER'S DAUGHTER,' 'FOR HALF-A-CROWN,' 'virginie's HUSBAND," etc. W. & R. CHAMBERS, Limited LONDON AND EDINBURGH X892 Edinburgh : Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. RIVER BANK I II. UP IN THE LOFT 12 III. MASTER AND MAN 26 IV. THE NEW COMERS 37 V. HULDAH 43 VI. FORDCHURCH 52 VII. MAY SPORTS 63 VIII. NEW ARRIVALS 77 IX. A LOVER 88 X. HULDAH DISCLOSES A SECRET 109 XI. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 123 XII. THE OLD PATTERN 1 47 XIII. MR GRAVES' FOLLY I 56 XIV. NEW VISIONS 166 XV. PARTINGS 178 XVI. A QUARREL I95 XVII. LETTY'S HERO 203 XVIII. A SECRET BETWEEN THEM 220 XIX. TELLING THE BEES 228 XX RUIN 240 XXI.

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR 255 XXII. HEMMED IN 264 XXIII. THE RESCUE 27 1 XXIV. NEW HOMES LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. JOAN RAN OFF TO PICK FLOWERS BY THE RIVER SIDE, LEAVING HER SISTER ALONE ON THE BRIDGE Frontispiece "WE'RE ALL ANXIOUS TO MAKE YOU WELCOME AND COMFORTABLE, MA'AM," SAID HULDAH Page 80 IN ANOTHER MOMENT ANTHONY WAS EY HER SIDE...I49 LETTY HAD BEEN KNEELING BY HER FATHER, STROK- ING HIS HANDS AS HER TEARS FELL FAST

Chapter I. River Bank

" Pleasant are these hidden waterways, but yet they are the more pleasant because the hand osman has not interfered with them." T certainly was an out-of-the-way place ! There was no railway nearer than eight miles, no country town within six, and even the village was half-an-hour's walk from "River Bank" as the farm, belonging to Mr Jonathan Graves, was called. But the Farm House itseli" was as pretty and quaint as the heart of an artist could desire ; it lay very near the river, which silently ran through the beautiful valley, called after itself the Valley of the Doyle. To the few inhabitants who lived in and near River Bank, the Doyle always went by the title of the river; they cared not in the least to know its name, and once, when Letty Graves and her sister Joan were standing on the bridge near the mill, just below the farm, a stranger came by, and pausing near to them, asked Letty what the river was called.

The AN OUT-OF THE-WA Y PLACE. 2 little girl looked up demurely, and replied simply, "It's the river, sir, that is all;" but Joan tossed up her pretty head, and laughingly answered — " Strangers call it the Doyle, but we call it the river." The stranger looked again at the upturned face, and stooping down, patted the golden brown curls, and said, " How many hearts do you mean to break with that pretty face, eh, child?" Then he passed on and left the two sisters standing silent and awe struck on the foot-bridge. Joan broke in at last in half a whisper, " Letty, did you hear what he said ? " After which question, a beautiful pink blush spread over the oval face, for for the first time Joan felt, and Letty knew it too, that the stranger had spoken the truth when he said "your pretty face." It was the child's first bite at Eve's apple, and evidently she found it very good, even though her sister's countenance wore a look of dumb surprise and unhappiness.

" I don't think, Joan, that that gentleman said what was quite right." Joan turned away, hung her curly head over the wooden railing of the bridge, and tried to show that she was cross with Letty. " He only said that . . . that I was pretty," she murmured. " I wonder if you are pretty, Letty. I don't suppose you are, or he would have told you so too." " But it wasn't only that," said conscientious Letty, wishing to stick to the point. " You know, Joan, he said something about breaking hearts ; but perhaps we had better not talk any more about it, Aunt Letitia would not like it." " Aunt Letitia ! " retorted Joan, and tossed her head. " Oh, Joan ! " was all Letty could say, for never before had her sister uttered those two words in that tone. She was quite rooted to the spot from sheer amazement.

Certainly that stranger must have been wicked if he could make Joan so naughty ; he must be like the bad genius she had once read of in a book, which book Aunt Letitia had taken out of her hand and thrown into the fire. Letty had honestly tried to forget its con tents, but she still remembered that wonderful story called Aladdin's Lamp, and how the good and bad spirits in it had been able to perform extraordinary feats. Joan ran off to pick flowers by the river side, leaving her sister alone on the bridge, and Letty fell into a reverie of the past, as she leant against the rail and gazed at her home, which was just within sight of the place where she now stood ; a spot which was the boundary of the sisters' walks, for Aunt Letitia allowed them to go no farther. Letty knew every stone of the dear old home, and could see with her eyes fast shut the way the creepers grew against the weather-stained walls.

It was a low house with gables, beneath which were old lofts, seldom visited by the sisters. There was no road up to River Bank, for though Letty's father had always talked of making one, yet it still remained as she had always known it, with the garden on one side, and on the other a courtyard, which opened out into a field, where a small foot path led to an unfrequented road, or rather lane. Aunt Letitia said she remembered it when it had been the high road to Westborough ; but now it was forsaken for a new one, the grass grew green over its track, and its hedges and ditches were undipped and uncared for. Beyond the garden lay the river, which wound its way through a green meadow, and about this field, as far as the bridge, Letty and Joan had been allowed to wander from their earliest infancy, that is at least in their play time, which had been very limited ever since the first advent of Aunt Letitia.

Jonathan Graves had tried hard to manage with out the help of relations after his wife's death, but when at last the woman who had undertaken to bring up his only son had carelessly dropped the baby Jonathan into the river, his eldest sister, Letitia, determined to sacrifice herself to his wel fare, and gave up the cottage where she lived in single blessedness, to take up her abode with her brother, and be responsible for the care of his children. But baby Jonathan had already been hopelessly hurt by his fall, and from that day the boy grew up to be not altogether an idiot, but what the country folk called " a natural." Letty sometimes tried to speculate how life would have been had Aunt Letitia never come, but this was certainly waste of time, for now she ruled supreme, and was likely to do so for many a year ; but Letty never forgot that first arrival, when the two little girls were at once made to sit down on stools for an hour and a half to their sewing.

Joan, only eight years old, had sighed, fidgetted, broken her cotton and lost her needle, but all to no purpose. Aunt Letitia sat straight upright on a high-backed chair, and, knitting in hand, looked down on her nieces like a jailor, her face saying plainly that she was ashamed of such untaught and untrained little girls. Joan fancied Aunt Letitia was only trying them by this ordeal, and never realized that this sewing trial would come every day, and that she and Letty would sit on those stools in future as regularly as clock work. But it was not only her nieces that Aunt Letitia had come to reform, but also her brother. Jonathan Graves was a kind, good-natured man, who, as he put it always, " let things take their course," which meant that he thought this was better than taking any personal trouble about them.

Since his wife's death this habit had grown more and more upon him ; but all changed when Aunt Letitia came, not that she could alter her brother's ways, — these were part of his very nature, — but he was no longer allowed to sin at ease. " John," Aunt Letitia often said, looking sternly at him, "you ought to be ashamed of your evil habit of putting off. If I were in your place, things would not be as they are at River Bank." Mr Graves never lost his temper (which meek ness, however, always irritated Aunt Letitia), but would smile quietly at her vehemence as he answered, " I am quite sure things would be different, Letitia, if you were master here, and hadn't the misfortune to wear petticoats." " Petticoats," said his sister, scornfully. " I will tell you a piece of my mind, John. It isn't breeches that make the man."

"Very true, very true," answered Mr Graves, trying to hide a decided smile. " It shan't be my fault, John, if your children take after you, that is all I have to say." This severe remark always ended these conver sations, which were as often as not carried on in the presence of the said children, yet it did not make them think disrespectfully of their father; on the contrary, they put themselves on the same list with him, and fully recognized that there was some thing materially wrong about their family, and that in Aunt Letitia's opinion there was little chance of mending this state of things, though very soon they realized that her efforts would never be relaxed till her last breath had departed. She was of a hard, upright, puritanical character, and the children, craving for love and sympathy, were scarcely aware of her good points, and failed to admire the stern virtues from which they suffered.

But there was one being to whom Aunt Letitia never spoke harshly, and who on his side was never afraid of her, and this was the boy Jonathan. He was not like other boys of his age, and Letty and Joan both knew it, though never once had they mentioned the subject to each other; but when Aunt Letitia came they were not left in ignorance of the difference, for she told her brother, " It all comes of having women who call them selves nurses in your house, John. You see what yours did for your son ; why, the boy is almost a natural, he will never have all his wits about him, and I am sure I don't see who will take care of him if anything happens to me." She never mentioned the word death, and for a long time Joan, not quite understanding what her Aunt meant, was always looking out for the something that was to overtake and carry off Aunt Letitia, but as time went on and nothing occurred, she left off expecting any change for the better.

Aunt Letitia at once undertook to be Jonathan's brains (she always called the son by his full name, and the father by the abbreviated John, thus show ing which of them she most respected), till little by little she began to believe he was not after all so very stupid, and often would say to the sisters, " There are wits and wits, girls. Jonathan's brains are slow but steady, and I believe he will be far better able to guide himself than you, Joan, with your giddy heedlessness and your vanity." Joan tossed her pretty head ; in the depth of her secret heart she disbelieved Aunt Letitia, and knew she could beat her brother at most things, and much preferred her own sharp tongue and quick butterfly brain to poor Jonathan's slow, fitful genius, if genius it could be called. Those two never could quite agree together, but with Letty the boy was always good and contented, though his happiest moments were when he was wandering alone in the country, and learning by close obser vation all about birds and beasts.

There seemed some curious affinity between Jonathan and the dumb creatures ; it almost was as if he understood their language, for sometimes he would lie in the copse near River Bank, and smile to himself as if he were listening to an amusing conversation. One day Letty having been sent by Aunt Letitia to find her brother, discovered him in the wood laughing as he never laughed at home. The sister touched his shoulder gently and said, "Jona, dear, what are you laughing at?" The boy raised his pale, sallow face, and the brown eyes all at once lost their bright look, his mouth be came grave, and he heaved a little sigh. " I did not hear you coming, Letty," he said sadly ; but he could not tell her what had amused him, the beautiful dream had faded at the sound of human words, and Jonathan was once again the lad who was " almost a natural."

This, then, was the family party at River Bank, this out-of-the-way place, which had beauties of its own, though so few to notice them. The lonely farm, the moss-grown road beyond, the river flowing in its meadow-bordered bed, the copse of hazel and beech to the west on the higher ground. Letty loved them all, nor were any of these things too common for her. Then, too, there was the farm-yard, the cow-pens and pig styes, the stalls where the cart horses found rest after their day's labour, the hens and the terrible turkey-cocks, that had made Joan run away from them when she was young. In the winter there was the big chimney corner, piled up with great logs, and that special seat right under the old chimney, where Aunt Letitia allowed no one to sit but Jonathan, whilst Mr Graves occupied the big oak arm-chair, not minding his sister's stern looks, but rather amused at the way little Joan tried furtively to avoid her duties when she fancied Aunt Letitia was not looking.

Any one would have liked to gaze at Joan, with her liquid blue eyes, that had such a world of longing in them, her dimpled chin (Joan had once poked her small finger into Letty's chin, and kept it there for a long time to see if a similar dimple would appear), and the roguish lips, — a small Cupid's bow, ready to shoot out telling darts ; and there, too, near her sat grave, steady Letty, doing as she was bid, and keeping all her deepest thoughts hidden, but, nevertheless, making plans for the future, when her darling sister should have all she wanted, and when Jonathan should be as other boys. All very dull uninteresting plans most people would have said, but this was the only happiness of her child-life, except those bliss ful moments when she and Joan, freed from Aunt Letitia's glances, could run about by the mill, and fish with crooked pins in the river, or pick flowers in the copses.

There was no dulness at such times, and from the day of the meeting with that stranger on the bridge, Joan at least had always a mystery to speculate about. " How many hearts would she break, in the suture of course, with her pretty face." There was no idea of sadness associated with the words, rather they gave her intense happiness, for therein was the assurance she had never had before, and which certainly Aunt Letitia would never have given her — that she was pretty ! B

Chapter II. Up In The Loft

' ' We were two daughters of one race, She was the fairest in the face ; The wind is blowing in turret and tree." [jH^SfF Mr Graves had been more alive to his i js-WJ own interests lie might have saved a ! jggL-Jlli small fortune for his children. The farm was his own, and River Bank was what men, who had no land, called a snug little property. In those days life was not such a hasty affair as it is now, and yeomen in Jonathan Graves' position were more plentiful, men who were not ashamed of working hard on their farms, and of taking a share in tilling the land that was their dearest possession. This character was what Letitia expected her brother to act up to, but unfortunately, though there was no lack of love for the home of his ancestors, John Graves wanted to enjoy the pleasures of a landowner, without the troubles of that favoured race.

Thus it happened that Letty and Joan grew up with a very slender education, only such as Aunt Letitia could give them, whilst Jonathan rode daily to the grammar school at Westborough, and learnt very little except read ing and writing, and an inordinate amount of mathematics, because of his curious aptitude for figures, whilst of Latin and Greek he was woefully ignorant. This period of Jona's life was a painful one, but he bore it well, and was overjoyed when at last he was allowed to leave books alone, and to accompany his father all day long about the farm. His mind began to develop as it had never done before, and Aunt Letitia's words seemed likely to come true. With Letty and Joan, however, the case was dif ferent. The few books they had were a great boon to them, and Letty especially craved for more of that knowledge that was so unlike butter-making and household work; and both thought that when Aunt Letitia said a woman need wish for nothing but to be able to sew better than her neighbours, she must be mistaken.

Their one excitement was the Sunday walk to Fordchurch. Their clergyman was an elderly bachelor, whom they seldom saw at River Bank. Once a year Joan had the pleasure of beholding the great pew occupied by Sir Jasper and Lady Dacre and their children, but they were people who travelled a good deal, and had another property elsewhere, so they only came to Platton Hall for a month in the summer. Every year Joan spent that summer month in envying the Miss Dacres, who were dressed in silks and satins, and the envy only grew stronger as the girl grew older, even though her father scornfully called them " decked out little misses," and Aunt Letitia said they had too fine feathers to be worth much as birds. The village excitements seemed very dull after the Miss Dacres had gone away, and River Bank lost some of its charm, especially when the sisters grew too old for fishing with the crooked pins, and Aunt Letitia seemed more stern and exacting than before, till the usual quiet routine caused the colours of the silks to fade from Joan's memory, and she relapsed into her ordinary state of wondering what would happen when she should fulfil the stranger's prophecy of breaking hearts.

It must not be imagined that Letty shared all these feelings. On the contrary, the present was in itself almost sufficient to take up her mind, and the deeper feelings were in danger of sinking so far out of sight as almost to disappear. This was the state of the Graves family in the winter of 1 8 — , when Letty had reached the age of eighteen, and Joan was stepping over sweet seventeen. Aunt Letitia did not look a day older than when she came, as her brother told her, and he was more easy going than ever. Perhaps, like the fairy tales (which Joan, by the way, had never read), the Fairy Fortune having been appealed to so long, was soon going to make her appearance, whether for good or for evil remained to be seen, and yet this January evening such a chance looked as unlikely to pretty Joan as that Lady Dacre should come and ask her to Platton Hall.

Mr Graves had come in early and settled him self by the parlour fire (drawing-room was a word Aunt Letitia never allowed), in his great arm chair, and taking up his paper, was quite ready to be left alone to enjoy himself; but this was not to be. "John, has Pipkin told you that the spotted shorthorn is worse to-night ? He says someone ought to sit up with her." " Oh, he always makes the worst of things," said Mr Graves, not looking up. " She'll do well enough." " She ought to be poulticed, Pipkin says so." " Pack of nonsense." The worthy man had just found an interesting article to read, and answered with the least possible sign of impatience in his voice. The tea was ready and the weather was unin viting, besides Pipkin would see after the shorthorn ; his sister was always worrying about some mare's nest.

Aunt Letitia said no more, but pronounced the blessing with a face that implied, " but you don't deserve to eat for such indiffer ence," and the party sat down in silence till she remarked to her brother, " Where is Jonathan ? ' " I left him near the mill, he'll be here presently;" and even as he spoke Jona's heavy step was heard, and he entered, looking round at every one as he always did before sitting down, as if he were counting heads. Aunt Letitia's face relaxed, at all events Jona never disappointed her. " They're coming to the manor," said Jona, with out any introduction. " Who ? " said his father quickly; but Jona shook his head, he was never sure about names. The manor was a large old-fashioned house, two miles from River Bank, but it had been shut up for years, and the land round it was farmed by a bailiff, who was Mr Graves' bete noir, always so ready to give advice, and so scornful of old-fashioned ways.

The real owner was a certain Mr Drake, whose history was involved in a mystery, or the neighbourhood chose to think it was, because he never appeared, and whose death had caused a sensation merely because of the possible advent of a new heir. Letty and Joan both felt disappointed at Jona's want of memory ; suppose the manor became once more the centre of family life, how might not their own be enlivened. " Mr Drake never was married," remarked Mr Graves, meditatively. "They say a woman jilted him when he was a young man, and that he vowed to have nothing to do with the race, but I can just remember him when I was a lad, and then I heard he had brothers and sisters ; I daresay a nephew will be the heir." " I daresay you'll be taking a deal of interest about new folks," said Aunt Letitia, severely, " though you won't stir a finger to set a few things of your own straight.

I was taught early that charity begins at home; there's more waste on your place, brother John, than on any farm for miles round." John Graves laughed good-naturedly. " Come now, Aunt Letitia " (he often called his sister by this title), " I daresay it's a command ment less often broken than the others." " It's a better one for you to keep than that about stealing. You never stole from any except yourself, John, but you do a deal of mischief in that quarter." " Don't put yourself out about the Command ments, my dear. Mr Taylor does that on Sundays, when he's done the ten he begins again. I always fancy he's afraid of not dealing fair with them all round." Aunt Letitia would not condescend to notice this sally, she pressed her lips closely together, and refused a baked potatoe. Whenever she was displeased with any one at River Bank, she showed her displeasure in this manner, and the " No, thank you," had a peculiar ring in it, which her relations knew but too well.

" Depend on it," continued Mr Graves, taking no notice of his sister's displeasure, " depend on it, a young Drake is coming into the property, but the house will want a vast amount of repairs ; it was a sin and a shame of old Drake neither to let it or live in it himself ; this young man will suffer for it." " I daresay he will be one of your gentlemen farmers," said Aunt Letitia, scornfully, " that come and mess away their money, and talk of new farming improvements." " I'll ride round to-morrow and look at the place a bit," said Mr Graves. " If the young man is about he may like to know a few things I can tell him better than that pig-headed Morton." It was one of Mr Graves' peculiarities, and one which especially annoyed his sister, to take a vast deal more interest in other folks' concerns, and in his neighbour's land, than in his own.

He would even take the trouble to ride several miles in order to give valuable hints to a friend or acquaintance about some draining work or improvement, when perhaps the very same thing was sadly wanted on his own premises. "You don't even know it is a young man," said Aunt Letitia ; " and you are always looking after other folks' business. If you want exercise so much, you had better go at once and see after that shorthorn." Silence followed this discharge from the stern sister; only Joan and Letty squeezed hands below the table, which was a little habit which they had acquired, and which meant, " Isn't Aunt Letitia cross to-night with poor father ? " Jona, as usual, took no notice ; he never played any part in home squabbles, and seemed to live above them ; perhaps this was partly because Aunt Letitia never turned her anger upon him.

This evening, as the short winter's day closed in, the wind rose and blew furiously against the small latticed panes, and made the great oak doors creak and groan till the sound penetrated through the house, causing an involuntary shiver to creep over the small party. Joan moved her chair nearer to Letty's, whilst her father drew his closer to the great hearth, where even the logs of wood looked sullen, and would not flare up brightly. Every now and then one could hear the rain dashing against the windows, as if intent on breaking the glass and coming in. Jona, in his corner, took up his one book, AN OUT-OF-THE-WA Y PLACE. 20 "Robinson Crusoe," of which he never seemed tired, and the women-folk worked on in silence for some time, till Mr Graves remarked, " These rains will make the river rise, Letitia ; not that it would do much damage now, if it did."

" You should take my advice and bank it up," was the answer. " Once there was a real flood, wasn't there, father ? " asked Letty. " Yes, but so long ago it has been almost for gotten ; it was when my father was a lad, and they said then it wouldn't happen again." " People say a great many foolish things," said Aunt Letitia ; " it's my belief some day it will come again, and then you will be sorry you did not take my advice." "Pack of nonsense," replied Mr Graves in his usual good-natured tone. This prophecy had quite lost its point by its having been repeated so often by his sister. At half-past nine Aunt Letitia put away her work-basket, and family prayers were gone through by her ; Pipkin, who slept in the house, and two maids attending. After this, Aunt Letitia lit a candle in a shining brass candlestick, and handed it to Letty.

" Good-night, girls, let there be no dawdling up stairs. Letty, I trust you to put out the light." Letty looked up with surprise written on every feature ; never before had she put out their light, her Aunt had always come upstairs with clock-like regularity and performed this office. " Shall you not come upstairs this evening, Aunt Letitia?" asked Joan, looking up quickly. " No, Joan, good-night, and remember, no chat tering." The two sisters retired, but hardly had they mounted the first flight of stairs, than Joan seized Letty's arm. " Letty, darling, here's the chance I've been waiting for so long, come up into the loft, quick ; take care of the candle, the wind will blow it out." " Joan ! what do you mean ? up into the loft ; what would Aunt say ? " " Never mind, she never trusts us, and now is an opportunity we may not get again."

" An opportunity, what for ? " and Letty's usually placid face wore a look of intense surprise and dismay. " It's my secret, but I wouldn't tell you before, because Letty, dear, you are so very ..." Joan paused, she hardly knew what Letty was, only she meant that out of her own head good Letty would never do anything against Aunt Letitia's wishes. All this time Joan had been proceeding up another flight of stairs, at the top of which she turned AN OUT-OF-THE-WAY PLACE. 22 down a low narrow passage which led to the dis used attics, or lumber-rooms, and then opening the wooden door of one of them, the girls found them selves in a large chamber with the slanting sides of the gabled roof showing bare rafters through whose crevices the wind blew freely. The whole place looked suggestive of rats and ghosts, and Letty whispered, "Joan, I am sure we ought not to be here."