ildren crying underneath a
tarpaulin shelter. As they crept on, the wind came to them with a
brackish flavour, salt with the sea. The chauffeur was gazing ahead
doubtfully.

"I don't like the look of the marsh," he grumbled. "Can't see the road
at all. However, here goes."

"Another half-hour," Gerald assured him encouragingly, "and we shall be
at St. David's Hall. You can have as much rest as you like then."

They were facing the wind now, and conversation became impossible.
Twice they had to pull up sharp and make a considerable detour, once
on account of a fallen tree which blocked the road, and another time
because of the yawning gap where a bridge had fallen away. Gerald,
however, knew every inch of the country they were in and was able to
give the necessary directions. They began to meet farm wagons now, full
of people who had been driven from their homes. Warnings and information
as to the state of the roads were shouted to them continually. Presently
they came to the last steep descent, and emerged from the devastated
fragment of a wood almost on to the sea level. The chauffeur clapped on
his brakes and stopped short.

"My God!" he exclaimed. "Here's more trouble!"

Gerald for a moment was speechless. They seemed to have come suddenly
upon a huge plain of waters, an immense lake reaching as far as they
could see on either side. The road before them stretched like a ribbon
for the next three miles. Here and there it disappeared and reappeared
again. In many places it was lapped by little waves. Everywhere the
hedges were either altogether or half under water. In the distance was
one farmhouse, only the roof of which was visible, and from which the
inhabitants were clambering into a boat. And beyond, with scarcely a
break save for the rising of one strangely-shaped hill, was the sea.
Gerald pointed with his finger.

"There's St. David's Hall," he said, "on the other side of the hill. The
road seems all right."

"Does it!" the chauffeur grunted. "It's under water more than half the
way, and Heaven knows how deep it is at the sides! I'm not going to risk
my life along there. I am going to take the car back to Holt."

His hand was already upon the reverse lever, but Gerald gripped it.

"Look here," he protested, "we haven't come all this way to turn back.
You don't look like a coward."

"I am not a coward, sir," was the quiet answer. "Neither am I a fool.
I don't see any use in risking our lives and my ma