ou going to be ill, do you think, dear?"

"I don't know. Don't you think Roger is ill?"

"Yes; and I dare say we shall all have the fever, from the damps and bad
smells of this place."

"Well--never mind about me, Oliver. I am only very, very tired yet."

"Come home, and lie down, and I will sit beside you," said Oliver. "You
will be patient, I know, dear. I will try if I can be patient, if I
should see you very ill."

He led her home, and laid her down, and scarcely left her for many
hours. It was plain now that the fever had seized upon them; and where
it would stop, who could tell? During the night he and Ailwin watched
by turns beside their sick companions. This would not have been
necessary for Mildred; but Roger was sometimes a little delirious; and
they were afraid of his frightening Mildred by his startings and strange
sayings.

When Ailwin came, at dawn, to take Oliver's place, she patted him on the
shoulder, and bade him go to sleep, and be in no hurry to rouse himself
again; for he would not be wanted for anything if he should sleep till
noon.

Oliver was tired enough; but there was one thing which he had a great
mind to do before he slept. He wished to look out once again from the
staircase, when the sun should have risen, to see whether there was no
moving speck on the wide waters--no promise of help in what now
threatened to be his extremity. Ailwin thought him perverse; but did
not oppose his going when he said he was sure he should sleep better
after it. She soon, therefore, saw his figure among the ruins of the
roof, standing up between her and the brightening sky.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

MORE HARDSHIP.

This morning was unlike the mornings which Oliver had watched since the
flood came. There was no glowing sky towards the east; and he saw that
there would be no broad train of light over the waters, which should so
dazzle his eyes as almost to prevent his seeing anything else. It was
now a stormy-looking sunrise. Huge piles of clouds lay on the eastern
horizon, through which it seemed impossible that the rays of the sun
should pierce. The distant church-spire looked black amidst the grey
flood: and the houses and chapel at Sandtoft, which now stood high out
of the water, had a dark and dismal air. Oliver would have been rather
glad to believe that there would be no sunshine this day, if he had not
feared there would be storm. He had so learned, in these few days, to
associate