see to you," he returned.

In half a minute more, with the help of the windowsill, she was in the
boat, the fur-cloak wrapped about her and the baby, drinking the first
cup of the hot coffee.

"We must take her home at once," said the curate.

"You said we should have fun!" said Helen, the tears rushing into her
eyes.

She had left the tiller, and, while the mother drank her coffee, was
patting the baby under the cloak. But she had to betake herself to the
tiller again, for the curate was not rowing straight.

When they reached the rectory, the servants might all have been
grandmothers from the way they received the woman and her child.

"Give them a warm bath together," said Helen, "as quickly as
possible.--And stay, let me out, Thomas--I must go and get Martha some
clothes. I shan't be a minute."

The next time they returned, Wingfold, looking into the kitchen, could
hardly believe the sweet face he saw by the fire, so refined in its
comforted sadness, could be that of Martha. He thought whether the fine
linen, clean and white, may not help the righteousness even of the
saints a little.

Their next take was a boat-load of children and an old grandmother. Most
of the houses had a higher story, and they took only those who had no
refuge. Many more, however, drank of their coffee and ate of their
bread. The whole of the morning they spent thus, calling, on their
passages, wherever they thought they could get help or find
accommodation. By noon a score of boats were out rendering similar
assistance. The water was higher than it had been for many years, and
was still rising. Faber had laid hands upon an old tub of a
salmon-coble, and was the first out after the curate. But there was no
fun in the poor doctor's boat. Once the curate's and his met in the
middle of Pine street--both as full of people as they could carry.
Wingfold and Helen greeted Faber frankly and kindly. He returned their
greeting with solemn courtesy, rowing heavily past.

By lunch-time, Helen had her house almost full, and did not want to go
again: there was so much to be done! But her husband persuaded her to
give him one hour more: the servants were doing so well! he said. She
yielded. He rowed her to the church, taking up the sexton and his boy on
their way. There the crypts and vaults were full of water. Old
wood-carvings and bits of ancient coffins were floating about in them.
But the floor of the church was above the water: he landed Hele