ugh, to
be stopped by a clod of earth, but otherwise there was nothing to do.
To Oliver it seemed that they stood for hours, staring, waiting as the
water lifted slowly, rose half an inch, paused and rose again. It was
three-fourths of the way up; it was a foot below the lip of the wall.
The space of a foot dwindled to six inches.

"If there should be a wind, now," said the man beside him hoarsely.

Oliver looked back along the valley at the arch of sky showing blue
instead of gray, at the trees moving gently in a morning breeze that
touched the hilltop, but that did not stir the still air below. He
heard Tom Brighton suddenly draw a sharp breath and he looked back
quickly. Was that space above the water a little wider, was there a
wet black line that stretched all along the rough wall where the flood
had touched and fallen again? He was not dreaming; it was true. The
level of the muddy tide was dropping, the crest of the flood had
passed.

It was broad daylight now, with the morning sunlight moving slowly
down the slope into the valley. For the first time Oliver could see
clearly the sullen, yellow pool of water, the crevasse in the dike,
and John Massey's little house, submerged to its very eaves. He
watched the shining streak of wet earth that marked the drop in the
water, he saw it broaden into a ribbon and from a ribbon turn into a
wide, glistening zone of safety that proved to all the danger had gone
by.

"We can go now," said Cousin Tom at last. "There is work enough still
to do, but it is time for us all to rest a little. We are certainly a
wet and weary-looking crew."

They had breakfast, all of the cousins together, at Cousin Jasper's
house, where Mrs. Brown, having spent half the night wringing her
hands in helpless anxiety, had seemed to spend the other half
superintending the preparation of a feast that should be truly worthy
of the occasion. The guests were all cheerful and were still so keyed
up by the struggle of the night that they did not yet feel weariness.
Anthony Crawford sat on one side of Cousin Jasper, Tom Brighton on
the other, while the three younger members of the party watched them
wonderingly from the other end of the table. Everything, for the
moment, seemed forgotten except the old comradeship of their boyhood.
The only reminder of the unhappy days just passed lay in the
atmosphere of relief and peacefulness that seemed to pervade the whole
house.

The windows stood wide open and