But Molly had seen another headline--a big headline that read: "Loss of Life at Rising Water! Governess of Jerome Tressady"s Family Swims One Mile to Safety!"--and she had fainted away.
She was very brave, very reasonable, when consciousness came back, but there could be no more pretence. She sat in the demoralized little parlor of the Emville Hotel--waiting for news--very white, very composed, a terrible look in her eyes. Jerry came and went constantly; other people constantly came and went. The flood was falling fast now and barges were being towed down the treacherous waters of Beaver Creek; refugees--and women and children whom the mere sight of safety and dry land made hysterical again--were being gathered up. Emville matrons, just over their own hours of terror, were murmuring about gowns, about beds, about food: "Lots of room--well, thank G.o.d for that--you"re all safe, anyway!" "Yes, indeed; that"s the only thing that counts!" "Well, bless his heart, we"ll tell him some day that when he was a baby--" Molly caught sc.r.a.ps of their talk, their shaken laughter, their tears; but there was no news of Belle--of Timmy--
"Belle is a splendid, strong country girl, you know, dear," Jerry said.
"Belle would be equal to any emergency!"
"Of course," Molly heard herself say.
Jerry presently came in from one of his trips to draw a chair close to his wife"s and tell her that he had seen Miss Carter.
"Or, at least, I"ve seen her mother," said Jerry, laying a restraining hand upon Molly, who sat bolt upright, her breast heaving painfully--"for she herself is feverish and hysterical, dear. It seems that she left--Now, my darling, you must be quiet."
"I"m all right, Jerry. Go on! Go on!"
"She says that Hong and Little Hong managed to get away early in the evening for help. She didn"t leave until about midnight, and Belle and the boy were all right then--"
"Oh, my G.o.d!" cried poor Molly.
"Molly, dear, you make it harder."
"Yes, I know." Her penitent hot hand touched his own. "I know, dear--I"m sorry."
"That"s all, dear. The water wasn"t very high then. Belle wouldn"t leave Timmy-" Jerry Tressady jumped suddenly to his feet and went to stare out the window with unseeing eyes. "Miss Carter didn"t get into town here until after daylight," he resumed, "and the mother, poor soul, is wild with fright over her; but she"s all right. Now, Molly, there"s a barge going up as far as Rising Water at four. They say the bungalow is still cut off, probably, but they"ll take us as near as they can. I"m going, and this Rogers--Belle"s friend--will go, too."
"What do you think, Jerry?" she besought him, agonized.
"My darling, I don"t know what to think."
"Were--were many lives lost, Jerry?"
"A few, dear."
"Jerry,"--Molly"s burning eyes searched his,--"I"m sane now. I"m not going to faint again; but--but--after little Jerry--I couldn"t bear it and live!"
"G.o.d sent us strength for that, Molly."
"Yes, I know!" she said, and burst into bitter tears.
It had been arranged that Molly should wait at the hotel for the return of the barge; but Jerry was not very much surprised, upon going on board, to find her sitting, a shadowy ghost of herself, in the shelter of the boxed supplies that might be needed. He did not protest, but sat beside her; and Belle"s friend, a serious, muscular young man, took his place at her other side.
The puffing little George d.i.c.key started on her merciful journey only after some agonizing delays; but Molly did not comment upon them once, nor did any one of the trio speak throughout the terrible journey. The storm was gone now, and pale, uncertain sunlight was falling over the altered landscape--over the yellow, sullen current of the river; over the drowned hills and partly submerged farms. A broom drifted by; a child"s perambulator; a porch chair. Now and then there was frantic signalling from some little, sober group of refugees, huddled together on a water-stained porch or travelling slowly down the heavy roads in a spattered surrey.
"This is as near as we can go," Jerry said presently. The three were rowed across shallow water and found themselves slowly following on foot the partly obliterated road they knew so well. A turn of the road brought the bungalow into view.
There the little house stood, again high above the flood, though the garden was a drenched waste, and a shallow sheet of water still lay across the pathway. The sinking sun struck dazzling lights from all the windows; no living thing was in sight. A terrible stillness held the place!
To the gate they went and across the pool. Then Jerry laid a restraining hand on his wife"s arm.
"Yes"m. You"d "a" better wait here," said young Rogers, speaking for the first time. "Belle wouldn"t "a" stayed, you may be sure. We"ll just take a look."
They were not ten feet from the house, now--hesitating, sick with dread. Suddenly on the still air there was borne a sound that stopped them where they stood. It was a voice--Belle"s voice--tired and somewhat low, but unmistakably Belle"s:
"Then i"ll go home, my crown to wear; for there"s a crown for me--"
"Belle!" screamed Molly. Somehow she had mounted the steps, crossed the porch, and was at the kitchen door.
Belle and Timothy were in the kitchen--Timothy"s little bib tied about his neck, Timothy"s little person securely strapped in his high chair, and Timothy"s blue bowl, full of some miraculously preserved cereal, before him. Belle was seated--her arms resting heavily and wearily upon his tray, her dress stained to the armpits, her face colorless and marked by dark lines. She turned and sprang up at the sound of voices and feet, and had only time for a weak smile before she fell quite senseless to the floor. Timmy waved a welcoming spoon, and shouted l.u.s.tily: "Dere"s my muddy!"
Presently Belle was resting her head upon Joe"s big shoulder, and laughing and crying over the horrors of the night. Timothy was in his mother"s arms, but Molly had a hand free for Belle"s hand and did not let it go through all the hour that followed. Her arms might tighten about the delicious little form, her lips brush the tumbled little head--but her eyes were all for Belle.
"It wasn"t so fierce," said Belle. "The water went highest at one; and we went to the porch and thought we"d have to swim for it--didn"t we, Timmy? But it stayed still a long time, and it wasn"t raining, and I came in and set Timmy on the mantel--my arms were so tired. It"s real lucky we have a mantel, isn"t it?"
"You stood, and held Tim on the mantel: that was it?" asked Jerry.
"Sure--while we was waiting," said Belle. "I wouldn"t have minded anything, but the waiting was fierce. Timmy was an angel! He set there and I held him--I don"t know--a long time. Then I seen that the water was going down again; I could tell by the book-case, and I begun to cry. Timmy kept kissing me--didn"t you, lover?" She laughed, with trembling lips and tearful eyes. "We"ll have a fine time cleaning this house," she broke off, trying to steady her voice; "it"s simply awful--everything"s ruined!"
"We"ll clean it up for your marriage, Belle," said Jerry, cheerfully, clearing his throat. "Mrs. Tressady and I are going to start Mr. Rogers here in business--"
"If you"d loan it to me at interest, sir--" Belle"s young man began hoa.r.s.ely. Belle laid her hand over Molly"s, her voice tender and comforting--for Molly was weeping again.
"Don"t cry, Mis" Tress"dy! It"s all over now, and here we are safe and sound. We"ve nothing to cry over. Instead," said Belle, solemnly, "we"d ought to be thanking G.o.d that there was a member of the family here to look out for Timmy, instead of just that hired governess and the Chinee boys!"