“Perhaps you had better go home, after all,” I said; “for you must wade into Tomkins’s if you go at all.  Poor old man! what can he be doing, with his wife dying, and the river in his house!”

“You have constituted yourself my superior officer, Mr Walton.  I never turned my back on my leader yet.  Though I confess I wish I could see the enemy a little clearer.”

“There is the enemy,” I said, pointing to the water, and walking into it.

Mr Stoddart followed me without a moment’s hesitation.

When I opened the door, the first thing I saw was a small stream of water running straight from the door to the fire on the hearth, which it had already drowned.  The old man was sitting by his wife’s bedside.  Life seemed rapidly going from the old woman.  She lay breathing very hard.

“Oh, sir,” said the old man, as he rose, almost crying, “you’re come at last!”

“Did you send for me?” I asked.

“No, sir.  I had nobody to send.  Leastways, I asked the Lord if He wouldn’t fetch you.  I been prayin’ hard for you for the last hour.  I couldn’t leave her to come for you.  And I do believe the wind ’ud ha’ blown me off my two old legs.”

“Well, I am come, you see.  I would have come sooner, but I had no idea you would be flooded.”

“It’s not that I mind, sir, though it is cold sin’ the fire went.  But she is goin’ now, sir.  She ha’n’t spoken a word this two hours and more, and her breathin’s worse and worse.  She don’t know me now, sir.”

A moan of protestation came from the dying woman.

“She does know you, and loves you too, Tomkins,” I said.  “And you’ll both know each other better by and by.”

The old woman made a feeble motion with her hand.  I took it in mine.  It was cold and deathlike.  The rain was falling in large slow drops from the roof upon the bedclothes.  But she would be beyond the reach of all the region storms before long, and it did not matter much.

“Look if you can find a basin or plate, Mr Stoddart, and put it to catch the drop here,” I said.

For I wanted to give him the first chance of being useful.

“There’s one in the press there,” said the old man, rising feebly.

“Keep your seat,” said Mr Stoddart.  “I’ll get it.”

And he got a basin from the cupboard, and put it on the bed to catch the drop.

The old woman held my hand in hers; but by its motion I knew that she wanted something; and guessing what it was from what she had said before, I made her husband sit on the bed on the other side of her and take hold of her other hand, while I took his place on the chair by the bedside.  This seemed to content her.  So I went and whispered to Mr Stoddart, who had stood looking on disconsolately:—­

“You heard me say I would visit some of my sick people this afternoon.  Some will be expecting me with certainty.  You must go instead of me, and tell them that I cannot come, because old Mrs Tomkins is dying; but I will see them soon.”