The morning call., 1892-07-03
AFTER THE FLOOD.

II was curious sight TO Portside eyes.
such sight as the younger generation had
never seen before. Three miles below lay
Portside itself. the cathedral tower looming
misty through the hazy January afternoon,
while black. cold night crept up from the
stern, frosty east. For five weeks the earth
had lain under a canopy Of snow; for five
weeks work had been at standstill; and
now the river Swirle had froZenIOver, and for
three miles solid sheet of ice stretched
away, and the ring of steel blades echoed
in the bare woods. For 81 years the Swirle
had deied the grip of King Frost. and even
in the terrible winter OF 1853 there had only
been some few hundred yards of firm
ice; while now the river seemed
10 be frozen solid. Where the current ran a
little more freely the ice had been tested 81
II inches, so that the thousands OF skaters
passed over the swift flood in perfect safety.
The darkness began to fall, and the moon
grew brighter in the clear sky, while on
either bank lights began 10 fash in tie WIN
dows of the clothmills along the valley
there was some little work in progress,
though even the vale folks were feeling the
terrible weather. For 10 miles the Swirle
Valley was a curious mixture of town and
country, rural enough but fer the clusters
of worknen's cottages, and the smoke from
tall chmneys drifting over the eornfelds.
Watchiag the skaters, now fast disappear
ing In the misty gloom, like javial demons
skimming noiselessly along the frozen
stretch. were two countrymen. Swlrle Val
leymen, as their slow speech and broad,
keen faces denoted They were both CON-
iortably clad, and each after the manner OF
his kind smoked his pipe with the stolid.
grave silence often observed between old
friends, when lack OF speech does not ne
Cessarily mean embarrassment from lack Of
ideas.
Il mind no such sight as this, and man
and boy Eve worked in Swirle Valley for
nigh on 80 year" remarked the elder at
length "Fifty-four was pretty hard. but
then the ice only bore from POTtside stone
bridge up 10 the old boathouse. That was
half p mile as near as no matter. And
when the flood came down it carried part of
the bridge away A sudden thaw now with
all that snow on the hills would sweep all
tie bridges away as If they were IL ade Of
cardboard"
Jacob Strahan nodded solemnly. All the
cottages and mills whereat Jacob and his
companion, Benjamin Atwood, acted as fore
men, we're situated far above range of any
food. and the notion of disaster for those
below was not without comfortable sense
If personal satisfaction.
Il went up last week as far as Maindee. -
Strahan replied deliberately; land there's
ice. ice: nothing but ice, 'ceptin' On the
streams, for close on so mile If pOrtside
stone bridge should stand the breakup,
there'll be food along the upper valley
such as no man ever sea before"
Like the one | mind my grandfather
speak Of in '97," said Atwood. The ice
formed a dam at Portside and the waters
burst the embauSme at Wareham, close
by Foljambe's mill. and made new course
down the valley. Right behind US it ran in
a stream bigger the Swirle is now, rs you
hV xef1 n
ruined cottages.
The speaker indicated the course OF the
disastrous food, the memory Of which still
Ives ID the POrtside district A few hun
died yards above them the Swirle turned
suddenly 10 the right, the bank being
strengthened artiticiaily, and below this
bank was a broad ravine, running for
some miles in the direction cf PoTtside
the road way from that place to Main
dee traYersing the gorge half way up
its side. 1t was a wild and desOlate
spot filed with bracken and brambles
and large b0Wlder-stones washed up by the
terrible flood while at the head OF il stood
FoljamOe's factory, almost within rife
shot of the house Of the great manufac-
tUTeT in question. Very few people passed
that way at night, since it was a place Of
evil TPpute, though Atwood traYersed it
frequently, as the ravne was a short cut
from the factory 10 bis own house on the
other side OF the dip.
was TO happen" Strshan remarked with he
same comfortable assurance. Il never liked
that valley. Ben. especially this time If year
when the snow lies deep il places. / don't
know why | should think so. but feel main
certain that when the frost goes, we shall
find your old master somewhere in the
raYine."
y wish we could find bim," Atwood re-
Piled with an impatient sigh. 'He left my
house that night Iast as it was coming on
tnick, and laughed at me when l warned
him against crossing the gorge. When
morning came lie was nowhere TO be found
and the snow lying 20 feet deep in some
places down there. And when be is found
nv Georges name will be cleared"
Lets hope So" Strahan replied more
cheeTfully. He's a good lad and though
appearances are against him firmly be-
IeTe he'll come out right yet And now.
unless we're going to stay here all night it's
time to think dbont cup of tea. Another
hard frost, / see."
The two old men turned away together.
parting finally on the brow of the hill With
the confidence Of one who knows his local
lty, Atwood crossed the rayine. and slowly
climbed upward 10 the summit. where the
cheerful lights shOne out from his own COM
Portable cottage. weird feeling came
upon him as he carefully skirted the great
heaps of snow, below one of which, for all
lie knew. lay the body of his missing en-
pioyer, Godfrey Fo!jambe, concerning whose
dlsappes rance every Portside individual
was still talking, though The mysterious
event was five weeks old.
If there was trouble at the great house on
The hil there were equally sore hearts in
the toremaa'S more humble abode. The
missing manufacturer was a Just and kind
employer, with keen eve for merit: and
that keen eye had looked favnrably upon
young George Atwood. with the result that
six years with F0lidmbe & Co. saw him
cashier to the flrn At this time, however.
certain strange defalcations had taken
place; there had been series of inyeSiipa
lions, with the result that the younger Att
wood had lost his situation. 1t was keen
blow TO employer and employed alike. but
the evidence was terribly clear and the man
ufacturer had no alternative, though he
declined TO prosecute.
30 things had drlfted on till the night be-
fore the great snow, when Mr. Foliambe
lad presented himself at Attw0od's cottage
in a state OF great excitement. George was
away from home. hearing which his late
employer refused to disclose his business
cOntenting himself with leaving a message
for his quon6am cashier to call upon him
on urgent business the following morning
II was dark. with a heavy snow falling AZ
he departed bomeward, laughing to scoru
the advice tendsred by his foreman as to
avoiding the treacherous ravine. by morn
lDg the snow lay TO the depth of three feet.
while IN the gorge below the white wreck
had drfted into hugh banks and valleys.
TIL even the ruined cottages had disap-
peared But, worst Of all, Mr.. FOIiambe
was missing The last person to see him
was George Atwood, who. returning home
along the road. was cheerfuliy aceosted by
his late employer with the Information that
good news awaited him on the morrow.
With which he plunged into the darkness To
be seen no mole of men.
"a bitter night" Atwood cried, as he
stamped across the tagged kitchen and
warmed his numOed hands at the grateful
blaze. "a night as makes us thankful to
know as we've a roof over our heads
Come lass. let us have some tea, for I've
been standing by the mere till Pm nigh
Irozen.''