ditches were snorting bank-full on either side, and towards the brook-side the fields were afloat and beginning to move in the darkness.
'Catch me going off it! There's his light burning all right.' She halted undistressed at a little rise. 'But the flood's in the orchard. Look!' She swung her lantern to show a front rank of old apple-trees reflected in still, out-lying waters beyond the half-drowned hedge. They could hear above the thud-thud of the gorged flood-gates, shrieks in two keys as monotonous as a steam-organ.
'The high one's the pig.' Miss Sperrit laughed.
'All right! I'll get her out. You stay where you are, and I'll see you home afterwards.'
'But the water's only just over the road,' she objected.
'Never mind. Don't you move. Promise?'
'All right. You take my stick, then, and feel for holes in case anything's washed out anywhere. This is a lark!'
Midmore took it, and stepped into the water that moved sluggishly as yet across the farm road which ran to Sidney's front door from the raised and metalled public road. It was half way up to his knees when he knocked. As he looked back Miss Sperrit's lantern seemed to float in mid-ocean.
'You can't come in or the water 'll come with you. I've bunged up all the cracks,' Mr. Sidney shouted from within. 'Who be ye?'
'Take me out! Take me out!' the woman
