around there was nothing but water, water, and that not still water, but rapidly flowing, wave on wave. John saw that there was more safety in the cottage than anywhere else. Fortunately it was daylight, and so he could trace the direction of the current. But imagine the horrors of a flood in the darkness of midnight, when the thunder of the waves is heard, and the mysterious hissing sound comes nearer and nearer, till the ground gives way beneath one's feet, the foam covers one's face, one is lifted as by invisible arms and whirled away like a leaf-how fearful a fate! John saw that the current did not set against the house; there was no immediate danger. He mounted guard before the house; Kate wept and prayed within, and talked through the window to her son, while the boy knelt on the bench and amused himself with the débris of all kinds that the water washed up. It was an agonising time of suspense, however, for them. Between the clouds and the water, on the top of the near hills, men might be seen looking down into the wild waves that were covered with branches and trees and with household wrecks. But these men could not help, they could only look on and scream if their neighbours were carried awayfor there was not a boat for miles round. And still the water rose, washed through the kitchen, and the direction of the current seemed to be changing. And John was all alone, to do what he could, while behind him wept Kate, and clasped the boy to her breast, that if need were that he must die, he should at least not die alone, but go to his last sleep in his granny's arms, which had so often rocked him to rest before. It was a slow and horrible death which now seemed to be creeping nearer and nearer, for the waves got higher and the force of the current swept more in the direction of the house. John had tried to turn it by the house door, which he had wrenched from its hinges, but the door had been carried away; he had next rammed in an old pig-trough, and that was threatened with the same fate. Hour after hour had passed in this anguish of suspense, and the sky was so overcast that it seemed to be getting late. Evening was at hand, and if the water went on rising it was their last evening here below,-after it came the night that knows no earthly morning. By-and-by it seemed to John as though the trough was less tossed than before, the water did not break so high over it. "Mother," he cried, through the window, "I do believe that the river is going down." "God be praised!" cried Kate ; "then we shall not die ! I used to think I should not so much mind it, and yet I have been so terrified. Ah, when a thing is far off it looks very different to what it does under your eyes!" The water began to subside, and soon the cottage was no longer entirely surrounded,-here and there there was a bare spot, and these grew larger and more frequent, and although a wave would come every now and then and wash over them, yet when the wave passed there were more dry spots than before, and soon they could go all round the cottage without getting their shoes full of water. But scarcely had they had time to realise the joy of deliverance, when throughout the valley mournful sounds began to float over the waters, wailing for help. These were the alarm bells. The angry river threatened to break bounds in many places where stood large villages; and the terrified inhabitants announced their distress and appealed for compassion and assistance. To add to the gloom night was coming on, and lights were seen to sparkle here and there. Nothing is more dangerous and eerie than to contend by lantern-light against a swollen stream; it gives a sense of having to deal with dark, mysterious, unearthly power. The especial distress seemed to be on the opposite bank of the river, and our good Kate could no longer enjoy her own safety for thinking of the poor people over whose land the wild river swept in the blackness of night. That night they had but little sleep, for although the waters had abated, the river itself was as dangerous as ever, and thankful were they when the day broke, and with it came energy and hope to avert further mischief. In this they succeeded, but the mischief already done was great enough. Much land was laid waste, much wood washed away, many of the dikes torn down,-nay, houses and men swept off. : Sorrowful and desponding stood our poor Kate at the cottage door on that morning before her desolated fields. All yesterday she had had to tremble for dear life, and when the alarm bells rang, to sorrow for other poor sufferers. Now that morning had come, and life was safe, and the bells silent, and she came out from the cottage and saw the earth and sky alike one barren grey, she had to hold on by the door-post, for now for the first time she realised the extent of her calamity. Her little plot of ground had been entirely under water, not merely as was the case last year; it looked now just like the bed of a river; and as for the flax, even what they had rescued was washed away, and not a trace of it to be seen. The whole garden was covered over with sand and gravel a foot deep,-no sign of any cultivation. That was hard to bear! Johnny tried to comfort her with the prospect of fish, but, as often happens, this was but empty comfort after all; for look where he would, not a fish was to be found, the rush of water had been too strong. John stood by in melancholy mood, for a long time kept silence, and then broke out with his belief that wherever he was he brought ill luck, that so much was certain. The best thing they could do now was to work hard and leave the rest to God. People would hardly let them die of hunger, and if they did we must all die once and there would be an end to trouble. At all events they must try and dig where the sand was least deep, and take up the potatoes that were still sound. It was a poor prospect, but if they did what they could, no one could reproach them later. A neighbour who happened to pass by, gave it as his opinion that the best plan would be for John to get a declaration signed by eyewitnesses of the calamity that had befallen him, and with that declaration to go about the country begging, taking care however to be first in the field. could tell him that if he set about it promptly, he might make no bad thing of it. But John declined his advice, and preferred for his part to put off begging as long as he possibly could. He XXIV. ROSES BLOOM FAIREST ON GRAVES, AND WHEN NEED 18 HIGHEST, GOD IS NIGHEST. THERE could hardly be a sadder occupation than that which mother and son now engaged in. They had to dig and carry away gravel for hours together before they could come upon a potato haulm, and when they dug it up they only found a few poor potatoes beneath. These they put into a sieve to dry, but on looking at them after a few days, they discovered that half were already rotten, and probably the other half would soon follow. However, they determined to save all they could, for it was rumoured that the river would break out again, and that soon. This terror was natural, for the embankments were everywhere shaken, and they had been but slightly repaired, most hands being required for field work of different kinds. And so the flood did return. On the very next Sunday, when no one was looking for it, down it came through the valley, not roaring and rushing as the first time, but, as it were, stealthily, and so more dangerously. It is strange that the river should always choose the Sunday for its outbreaks; or rather this choice is made by Another who sends the calamity on this day to men who are in the habit of working on a Sunday, and have no time left to devote to God. This powerful preacher is sent to them out of the desert, to teach them that if they needs must work, God will choose them work enough for this and many days, till they learn once more to keep the Sabbath-day holy and to prize its rest. Very solemn was the voice of this mighty preacher. Men's hearts trembled for fear, sleep fled from their eyes. On this occasion Kate's cottage was not in danger; the river had taken another direction. Not far from her, however, though, on the other bank, there was a fearful rush of water through a district in which the cottages stood thick as growing hemp, and each cottage had many inhabitants, chiefly children. It may be imagined what screaming and confusion there was when the flood was heard rushing round the dwellings, and the children had to be snatched out of bed and carried naked to the upper story,-why they knew not, and no one had time to tell them, nor could any one indeed hear what another said. All screamed, wailed, groaned at once. From cottage to cottage spread the shrieking, but the flood roared between; and what was going on there, and why the shrieking, no one knew, nor could any one household go to the assistance of another. All foreboded the worst for others and the worst for themselves, and if a light went out in any direction, the cottage was believed to be a prey to the waves. Lower down, a hill rose in the river's way, and with a fearful roar it dashed aside through houses, bridges, stables, and poured itself into its old bed, laden with booty of all kinds; for whatever had been carelessly left about the houses it swept away. Down it rolled, shaking all embankments, bearing on its waves the trophies of its achievements; and wherever it came it brought misery, and women wept to think of the havoc it had done, and all hearts thrilled with compassion, Meantime most astounding things were told about the rush of the river into its old bed, and numbers flocked to see it flowing there. Johnny must needs want to go and see this phenomenon too, and insisted upon his father taking him at once, and his grandmother seconded him. Kate remained at home. We all know how we haunt the place where our treasure is, or where those we loved are buried, or the scene of the pleasures we tasted in our youth. We see people weeping beside graves, and though the first pang returns, and the wounds break out anew, yet the attraction is too mighty to be resisted. So it is, too, after a fire; the ground has been searched over and over again, and yet the owner must needs return to the ashes of his house. And Kate felt the same towards her buried crops. Although it almost broke her heart to see the spot, so green and flourishing of late, so grey and barren now, she could not keep away. Yet there was little she could do there, for it was too late in the year to sow anything; and besides, the ground was not fit for it, so much sand and gravel had to be carried away, and good earth brought in. However, there she was, pottering about, hardly knowing why or wherefore, and but too certain there was nothing to find. After awhile she desisted; and being alone and safe from observation, she sat down upon the edge of the field, wept and grieved, sought for some ground of hope, and found none. "More than a year ago," thought Kate, something like this happened. I had sand to clear away. I had to mourn over my flax. I thought all was over, and that nothing worse could happen to me ! Alas, and how much I have had to undergo since then! Twice the potato disease, then my son's accident, and now the flood, which has destroyed everything— everything whatever. Then I had some money in the cupboard, now it is empty; then there were charitable people, and now all charity is wanted at home; then but few were damaged, now all are in the same case, and there is little pity to be expected for mine. I may sit alone, forsaken, and cry my fill, and wonder what is to become of me. No one troubles their head about me! It is just here I sat before fretting over my flax and my potatoes, and then the trees parted and a kind neighbour came through and helped me. Now I might sit here long enough, no parting of the trees, no good fairy to appear.' But, lo! when Kate looked up to the place through which the farmer's wife had come, there was some one standing there again; only this time it was not a stout heavy woman, but a pretty face, all pink and white, looked through the fir-branches. Kate gave a loud scream, and the young girl had to come quite close and to speak in her gentlest tones before she recovered herself, and knew her to be the maid that had so taken her fancy, the rich maid with the fifty dollars. Kate had given up all hope of a message coming from this quarter, and indeed from sheer misery she had ceased to think about it. The river had swept away her hopes and plans with her flax. But when she looked into the sweet face before her, hope suddenly revived, and rose like a magic garden of delight, over which, however, hung a little cloudy doubt, as to whether she came to decline or accept the offer made. Kate hoped the last; she hardly thought the rejection constantly coming and going she could contrive to make her way without being observed. What grieved her was, that she had so little money to take with her, whereas she would have liked to have had both pockets full, and she was afraid of applying to her trustee. So she had to set out with a light purse, only containing two florins, and therefore with a heavy heart to think that she could not make use of her own money to help others, and dared not even demand a few dollars. She knew the situation of the cottage very well, and thought she would just peep round first to see whether John was at home or only his mother; and so it was that Kate saw a little face shine through the branches that seemed to her like that of an angel. Barbara came forward, greatly relieved that John was "Why, look there, what a woman she must be! not visible, and yet looking for him in every corner; Who can ever trust again?" cried Kate. "I suspected for a moment that she had something brewing in her mind, when she dismissed me so quickly, and never asked me to stay dinner. She did not want to | part with you, and that was why she got rid of me so hastily; and then never to say a word to you, the good-for-nothing woman that she is!" "You were over there then?" inquired Barbara. "Indeed, was I," said Kate; "but come in and sit down, I will make you a cup of coffee, and tell you how things stand." Meanwhile the farmeress had not been so faithless as Kate supposed. Barbara had never been once to see her, and as for sending messages or doing anything underhand, that was not her way. The fact is, Barbara had felt much aggrieved that her cousin | showed so little sympathy, and would not appear to notice what she had so much at heart. "She is a hard dry woman," thought the young girl, "she does not care much for any one: so long as she can rule and dictate she is quite satisfied. I have no one in the world to whom I can turn. Both father and mother are in heaven. Alas! if only I were with them, and out of everybody's way, how well it were for me!" So felt poor Barbara, and this was no passing thought, but a settled mood, which expressed itself in her face and all her gestures. Occupied with her own misery, Barbara paid but little attention to outward events, and though she heard of the havoc the river had made, she did not much heed it. When the second flood came, and people ran to see it as to a house on fire, a thought of Kate shot through Barbara's mind. How had it affected the poor old woman? was she still alive? had she lost anything? might she not perhaps help her? Barbara was only afraid that if she went to inquire she might come across John: she would far rather not, and yet she was continually thinking, "Suppose I were to meet him, how should I look, and what should I say to him, and how would he look, and would he know me again, and what would he say, and how should we get on together?" And the more afraid she was of such a meeting, the more it occupied her imagination. In short, the idea took away appetite and sleep; she must needs go and see. To her cousin, however, Barbara would not go in the first instance; she would undertake the expedition on her own account, and in the crowd that was and when he did not appear, she was conscious of a heart-sinking, but had not courage as yet to inquire about him. Kate made the fire, and talked, and ground the coffee, and was all the while in such a state of excitement that it was wonderful the coffee was drinkable. When at last it was poured out, and the old woman came to sit down, her excitement gradually subsided, and she began to collect her thoughts. "And so then she said nothing at all to you? That was too bad of her! However, now I can tell it you all myself, without any one to distort what I say, and you shall hear the exact state of the case. Kate now proceeded to relate all that she had thought about basket-making, and about Barbara and John, and how they were made for one another, and John was willing, and Barbara must be willing too, for no one ought to be offended at an offer; and if she had a fancy to spend a copper in soup or anything else, no one would ever object to it; and if the weather should be wet or cold, Kate would go round herself; and, indeed, with such means as hers, there would be no harm in staying at home in disagreeable weather. And as to her mistress, she need not be afraid of offending, for marriage put an end to service just as death did to a compact, and most certainly she would never have any cause to repent the step, that Kate would answer for. The old woman went on in this strain for a long while, and Barbara listened with delight, for it was long since she had been made so much of, and she had pined for love like this for years. “And now, Barbara, what do you say to it ?” inquired Kate. This was an embarrassing question for poor Barbara. At first, as we said, she had felt delighted, and afterwards highly amused when it came to the basket making and carrying, and she had pictured to herself their amazement when they heard who she was, and what she had, and how they could possibly do without baskets; but now, when the sudden question came, a great weight fell upon her spirits ; she had not yet seen John, and all her relations rose before her mind, together with her cousin, whom she looked upon as having played her false; and how was a poor forsaken orphan to withstand them all, and to break through such serried ranks of opposition? Alas! Barbara must needs weep, such sweet and bitter thoughts had been raised, and when north and south winds succeed each other, we all know that they bring rain. What, however, she meant by weeping thus it passed Kate's power to comprehend. It never occurred to her that a girl could have any cause for tears with the prospect of getting John for a husband, and with all things going on so smoothly. She began to fear that the proposition came too late. Barbara would fain have accepted it, but there was some hindrance now which would not have existed had her mistress opened her mouth at the right time. There then would have been hope, now there was none. This suggested itself to Kate's mind. The magic gardens were all covered by a black cloud, and Kate too began to weep, just as bitterly as Barbara. While they were thus weeping, they were suddenly startled by a loud voice exclaiming, "Why, what on earth do I see?" and as they turned round terrified, there were the farmeress and John standing in the doorway. An awful pause now ensued in Kate's little room, and the four faces looked at each other in the strangest manner possible. "You have some right to complain, I own,” said the farmeress, half laughing; "but things are not, after all, as you fancy. No one wanted to make fun of you; far otherwise; but if I had supposed things were to go as far as this, I might have thought twice before I lent a helping hand; but so I suppose it was to be. Look you, the lass and I were both sorry for you when we heard what distress you were in; and moreover, her conscience pricked her for "Well, since so it is," cried the farmeress at having been the cause of the quarrel. It would not length, "I say no more. As far as I am concerned, have become her to pay you a visit in her own name, what is, is, and what is to happen, comes to pass. I and I did not know how to manage to avoid getting say, mother, have you got a cup for me, and a drop talked about; and yet I wanted to help you in some of coffee still in the pot? I am thirsty. Well, mother, way or other. 'Cousin'-for you must know we are you think it an odd thing, don't you now, that I related-'cousin,' said she, 'I have a plan; no one should be found here, as if I had dropped from the knows me up there, and I will give myself out as your sky? It fared with me as with the rest of the world. maid, and take over what you wish to send, and then As everybody thought they must run and see the no one will ever hear a word about it.' I was fool river in its old bed, why, so I thought too. As I enough to approve of the plan, and never dreamed what was coming back, I thought to myself that the figure stuff and nonsense might come into the heads of an with the child was familiar to me, and so it proved. old woman and a young one when together. It did But for a long time my gentleman would not show indeed occur to me that you two had been plotting that he knew me, and looked this way and that way, some mischief; but I thought to myself, 'If no one just as the quality do when they are ashamed of blows, out the spark goes.' Then you came over, seeming acquainted with one. However, I turned mother, with your offer of marriage, and you wished his head round, I warrant you. He had to speak to speak about it to my maid. I might have told to me, whether or no. From him I heard what you how things were then; but in the first place I was a terrible disaster you had had, and, as the child posi- too much amused, and, in the next place, I did not tively insisted upon a drive, I thought I might just like to do so, for I thought the thing might die out as well come in to see what the river had been about of itself, and nothing more be said; or if it had to be here-fine work, indeed, it has made !—and here un- put an end to, there was plenty of time for it. If the expectedly I find company for my homeward drive.” girl had come over to see me, I should probably have told her the whole affair, and seen how she took it. But my young lady would not trust me, and so I let things take their chance, and thought there would be some other way of helping John and you without the young girl, for 'tis truth I had not forgotten you. But look you here; my lass knows how to fight for herself; here I find my discreet cousin behind your table, and I have no doubt you and she have been railing well against bad people and the bad world, and you have settled the whole question of the baskets and the coppers for soup." And the stout farmeress laughed. Then the farmeress looked with a comical and somewhat satirical expression at Barbara. Kate could not understand this state of things, could not imagine why the mistress did not give her maid a proper scolding for having, as she supposed, made her escape as soon as her back was turned. Kate felt thoroughly roused; here she thought was a fair opportunity of reproaching the farmeress with her treacherous silence, and putting her publicly to shame. "John," said she, "this is the young lass who was here once before, and whom I spoke to thee about." "The one who will be my mammy, won't you?" added Johnny, by way of more complete explanation. Barbara caught his curly head in both her hands. John, however, very gravely interposed: "Mother, there is some mistake here; this is no servant-maid." "What do you say?" cried Kate; "why, who is she then ?" "This," continued John, "is the young girl I had Meanwhile our good Kate had become appeased, and was quietly wiping away her tears. She saw that no harm had been meant, but they must not be angry with her for having had such thoughts; when one does not know the rights of a case, all sorts of things come into one's head, and drowning people, she pleaded, will catch at a straw. The young girl had pleased her If uncommonly, she must own that; and so had her for-nothing to do with it till the thing is settled. tune-it would have set John going in some business or you will take my advice, why then I should say other. Now, when all was over, she saw, of course, that the landlady's house at Michelhofen would be no that a farmer's daughter was always a farmer's daughter, bad place to meet at; and between this and next week even if she had no fortune, as was often the case. you may get a pair of shoes made, should either of She was very sorry for it, she confessed; but there you chance to want them, and think over what you they were, just the same as before, and there was no mean to say; and so now adieu, and fare you well." help for it. Gladly would they have spoken now, but what the cousin said was said once for all. "Listen to me, mother," said the farmeress; "people must not give up all hope at once in this way. I myself believe, since I have found the girl here, that something will come of it. You and I need only leave the young people together; there will be a talk, to be sure, but that will soon blow over." "No, no," persisted Kate, "nothing can come of it. What should John do with a farmer's daughter; he has no land; she would not carry baskets about; what would they live upon? Fifty dollars, even if she has them, are a nice sum; but when you come to live upon them, they soon come to an end." Upon this the other again fell into fits of laughter, but at last she said: "For that story at least I am in no way responsible, that is the girl's own." "Has she then nothing after all?" said Kate, sorrowfully; "I should not have thought it of her." "Look you," returned the farmeress, "the story is of a kind that you will not easily match. In general girls swell out their means to the very utmost. How much would you guess she has, granny? Well, I'll tell you—about two thousand dollars or more. At that, Kate stared at the speaker, but no single word could she utter. "Come, granny, and show me your crops, and where the river washed over," said the good woman, and she took the grandmother and grandchild out with her, being of opinion that the young people might like to have a few words together, while she expounded her views respecting them outside to Kate. When she thought that time had been allowed for all possible explanation, she turned her steps to the cottage. After such sufficient preliminaries, it seemed to her that things might now be settled, and that there was no occasion to talk long about it. But even a sagacious woman may sometimes be mistaken. When she went in with the question, "Now then, do you understand each other?" neither Barbara nor John replied. During the whole time they had scarcely exchanged ten words. Each thought the other should begin, and neither had the courage to do so: John because he was crippled fellow, and Barbara because, in spite of her loving heart, she was thoroughly maidenly. a poor Upon that the farmeress exclaimed, "A couple of young simpletons you are! don't you know that people should make the most of time when they have it? However, we will set out now, and you, my girl, will go with me, for I think it is well that I should have my eyes upon you." Upon which John wanted to put in a word, but she would not listen, insisting: "You should have spoken before you had plenty of time given you; now see that my vehicle is ready. If you have anything to say to the lass, don't go to her brother's, or you'll come to grief, and don't come to me, for I will have On their way home her cousin spoke out plainly to Barbara, and let her tongue loose; and on the appointed day John came back from the place of meeting at a very late hour, and told his mother that everything was arranged, and that he would give her the particulars in the morning. Next morning, accordingly, John told his mother how everything had been arranged, and how the next Sunday the banns were to be published. "O mother," he exclaimed, "you are my good angel; I cannot thank you, but our Lord God will reward you in eternity. Meanwhile we will do what we car, we will make much of you, you shall do no more work,-that we have determined." "God be praised and blessed !" said Kate, the tears running down her cheeks, " you are provided for and the boy too. But don't concern yourselves about me, I shall get on very well, and our Lord God and kind neighbours will help me on. But what does your late mistress say to it, and the other relatives?" "The relatives are mad enough, but they can't prevent it, and the farmeress says that we are to do what we like, and when it has come to a wedding then we are to go to her, perhaps she may have something to say to us. What, she did not say, but we suppose that she means to let us a house, and that I am to farm and do what I can, besides looking a little after her affairs." Yes, indeed! God is still above all, and when need is highest, help is nighest! But now in this dear time, when the potatoes have failed, and bread is so dear, it seems an awful risk to set up housekeeping: it is an expensive thing. Have you thought it over well, John, and do you think you can venture?” "Mother," said John, "if God has helped us hitherto, why should I fear now? the money is there." "How much was it you said?" asked Kate. "At least two thousand dollars,” replied John. "That quite frightens me," said Kate, "I cannot make out how much exactly that may be. But, John, never forget that love is the chief thing and not the money. And don't let the money eat up the love. Better be without the first than the last any day." It was a hard trial to Barbara to have to announce to her brother that her banns were to be published on the following day, but this she was obliged to do, lest he and his wife should find themselves in the church, and have to endure the gaze of the whole congregation. Her brother said nothing more than, "So! here is a pretty thing, indeed; but wait awhile, wait till the shoe pinches, for pinch it will." Upon which he blustered himself out. But then came the sister-in-law, and she raised such a storm that Barbara packed up her things and took to flight. She would have gone to her cousin's, but she referred |