Leslie Ross Part 8

"That, boys, was the end of poor Ned. Those who die young escape much sorrow, says the proverb; and the old heathens used to say that those who died young the G.o.ds loved; but we hear a more sure voice saying, '_Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord._'"

CHAPTER VII.

THE FLOOD.

Every boy had gone home with the exception of Leslie, their farewell shouts still echoed in his ears as he looked gloomily from one of the deserted school-room windows out into the equally deserted playground; how silent and lonely everything seemed, and to make matters worse, the rain had re-commenced to fall. How sad Leslie felt; he pictured to himself the warm and loving reception each of his departed school-boy friends would receive on reaching home. Yes, he pictured it all to himself as he stood watching the falling rain, and the hot tears gushed from his eyes, and, laying his head upon the window sill, he burst into uncontrollable sobs.

How long he remained thus he knew not, but he was roused from his painful sense of desolation by a gentle hand being laid upon his bowed head, and a kind voice saying, "My poor boy! I am very sorry you are left behind; there, there, do not cry, brighten up, and come into the parlour with Maud and me," and Mrs Price wiped the tears from his face, and brus.h.i.+ng back his hair, imprinted a kiss upon his forehead.

This kindness only made Leslie feel more inclined to cry, but repressing his tears, and placing one hand in Mrs Price's, he said, as they walked to the parlour, "You are very kind, ma'am, and your voice is as soft as my own mamma's; thank you very much."

"There, that is a brave boy; you must not let Maud see you cry."

"No, but I could not help it, I did so long to go home, and it is such a disappointment to be kept at school."

"My dear child, the world and life are full of disappointments."

"Are they, ma'am?"

"Yes, and we must all try to meet our share with a brave heart."

"Are they all as bitter as mine?"

"Some are much worse, my boy."

"I will try to be brave, ma'am; but I really did try to put the linchpin back."

Maud was delighted to have a companion and playfellow who could be with her all day, and was soon engaged in planning various excursions to different, but favourite scenes in the neighbourhood.

"We will spend one long day," she said, "all by ourselves; we will get up very early in the morning, and cook shall fill a basket with nice things to eat; then we will row down the river until we reach the wood, in which we will roam about all day, having our dinner under the boughs of some large tree, and be for all the world like gipsies; will that not be capital?" and Maud clapped her hands with glee.

"Yes," said Leslie, "and I will take a long stick, which shall be my lance, and I will pretend to be a knight who has rescued a beautiful lady from a cruel band of robbers."

"But who is to be the beautiful lady?" inquired Maud.

"Why, you, of course, for I think you very beautiful."

"Suppose real robbers do come," said Maud, opening her large eyes to the full extent at the bare supposition.

"Oh, I would protect you," said Leslie, with fervour.

"Should you be really strong enough?"

"I think I should, if danger threatened you, Maud."

"Is not Leslie brave, mamma?" said Maud, turning to Mrs Price.

"Yes, my dear," was the answer.

"I don't know ma'am," said Leslie blus.h.i.+ng, "but I think every one is brave when those they love are in danger."

"But, my dear children, if the rain keeps falling as it has done to-day, your excursion will have to be postponed for some days."

There seemed every prospect that Mrs Price's prophecy would be fulfilled; the rain fell incessantly, day after day; men shook their head, saying, "It will be a bad season for farmers, and the poor, if no break come in the clouds." But day after day pa.s.sed away, and no bright sun broke through and dispersed the rain clouds; for miles round, the fields appeared nothing but lakes of water, and some parts of the road were in the same condition.

The river running in front of Ascot House had now become rapid and turbulent. All the boats belonging to the boys had been carried into the school-yard, that they might not drift away. Mrs Price was full of fear and alarm; she was afraid the river would overflow. The doctor was away from home, but she wrote him urgent letters requesting him to return, for she felt her position to be somewhat critical should danger arise, with only two children and two women servants, the rest having gone away to visit their friends.

One evening the wind began to rise, while the rain seemed to fall faster than ever. Mrs Price, and Maud, and Leslie, stood looking out into the twilight. The mother was pale with anxiety, as she listened to the increasing noise of the wind.

"Do you think there is any danger, Mrs Price?" said Leslie, touching her arm.

"I cannot say, my dear, but I hope not; I wish the doctor was here, I should know what to do then, but to-morrow we will move into the town in case any thing should happen."

"If you please, mum," said a servant, entering, "the back yard is that full of water that our kitchen will be flooded if something ain't done."

"Well, Mary, I don't know what can be done; I will come and see," and Mrs Price left the room.

"Ma' seems very much troubled," remarked Maud.

"Yes, Maud, your mamma is afraid the place will be flooded," said Leslie.

"I hope not, for then we might all be drowned."

"Yes, unless some one came and rescued us."

It was with a heavy and foreboding heart that Mrs Price retired to rest. She made her little daughter sleep in her own room, while Leslie was placed in one much nearer her own than that he had previously occupied.

"Good night, Leslie," said Mrs Price, kissing him; "be sure and not forget to say your prayers, for we all need G.o.d's help."

Leslie had no idea how long he had been asleep, when he started up in bed with an undefinable impression that something was wrong. He sat rubbing his eyes, and but half awake--a confused sound, he knew not what, fell upon his ear; it seemed as if some dreadful strife was going on outside his window, something seemed in a terrible fury, raging wildly.

As his senses became more collected, he listened, and then he heard sounds which made him at once spring from his bed, slip on his trousers, and rush to the window; he hurriedly forced it open, and looked out. The night was still dark, and the wind still high, but something unusual was taking place in the playground directly underneath where he stood; for a minute or two he could not make out what it could be, but as his eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness, he could distinctly make it out to be the surging and roaring of water, which appeared to increase even as he gazed.

"Why," he thought, "the banks have given way, and the river has overflown--the house will be washed away."

Then his thoughts instantly reverted to Mrs Price and Maud, perhaps they were unacquainted with the danger which threatened them, which must be greater than his, for their room was on a lower floor. Without a moment's thought about the risk he might possibly run, half dressed as he was, he opened his room-door, and groped his way down stairs as quickly as he could.

He could hear the water das.h.i.+ng up against the stairs, how far down he knew not, but, judging from the sounds which it made, he concluded it must be very near Mrs Price's bedroom; this fact made him hurry faster, and not quite so cautiously as before, the consequences of which was his slipping down a number of the stairs, and falling plump into the water, which had already reached the landing; it was not deep, however, so he was quickly upon his feet again, and a moment or two after hammering with might and main at the door of the room in which Maud and her mamma were sleeping.

"Who is there?" came Mrs Price's voice.

"I, Leslie Ross."

"What do you want?"