There was no light whatever in Dolman’s; but they were early people.  The house and lawn slept peacefully in the night:  the windows were now shining, now dark, for small fleecy clouds kept drifting at short intervals across the crescent moon.

Ransome pushed on across the open ground, and for a mile or two saw few signs of life, except here and there a flickering light in some water-wheel, for now one picturesque dam and wheel succeeded another as rapidly as Nature permitted; and indeed the size of these dams, now shining in the fitful moonlight, seemed remarkable, compared with the mere thread of water which fed them, and connected them together for miles like pearls on a silver string.

Ransome pushed rapidly on, up hill and down dale, till he reached the high hill, at whose foot lay the hamlet of Damflask, distant two miles from Ousely Reservoir.

He looked down and saw a few lights in this hamlet, some stationary, but two moving.

“Hum,” thought Ransome, “they don’t seem to be quite so easy in their minds up here.”

He dashed into the place, and drew up at the house where several persons were collected.

As he came up, a singular group issued forth:  a man with a pig-whip, driving four children—­the eldest not above seven years old—­and carrying an infant in his arms.  The little imps were clad in shoes, night-gowns, night-caps, and a blanket apiece, and were shivering and whining at being turned out of bed into the night air.

Ransome asked the man what was the matter

One of the by-standers laughed, and said, satirically, Ousely dam was to burst that night, so all the pigs and children were making for the hill.

The man himself, whose name was Joseph Galton, explained more fully.

“Sir,” said he, “my wife is groaning, and I am bound to obey her.  She had a dream last night she was in a flood, and had to cross a plank or summut.  I quieted her till supper; but then landlord came round and warned all of us of a crack or summut up at dam.  And so now I am taking this little lot up to my brother’s.  It’s the foolishest job I ever done:  but needs must when the devil drives, and it is better so than to have my old gal sour her milk, and pine her suckling, and maybe fret herself to death into the bargain.”

Ransome seized on the information, and rode on directly to the village inn.  He called the landlord out, and asked him what he had been telling the villagers.  Was there any thing seriously amiss up at the reservoir?

“Nay, I hope not,” said the man; “but we got a bit of a fright this afternoon.  A young man rode through, going down to Hillsborough, and stopped here to have his girth mended; he had broke it coming down our hill.  While he was taking a glass he let out his errand; they had found a crack in the embankment, and sent him down to Hillsborough to tell Mr. Tucker, the engineer.  Bless your heart, we should never have known aught about it if