banks; leaves, twigs, broken
branches, and even trees, mostly root upwards, went bobbing by, every
now and then to become anchored for a few moments amongst the stones,
and forming some little dam which kept the water back till there was
weight enough to overcome the obstacle and send it onwards with a rush.

"Well," cried Manners, in his bluff way, "how is it, Mr Willows? I
woke up this morning, looked out of the window, and then dressed in a
flurry, to hurry down, half expecting that the mill had been swept
away."

"I, too," said the Vicar, "felt a bit nervous; the storm was awful, and
I wondered whether such a weight of waters might not have made an
opening somewhere in your dam."

"Well, to be candid," said Mr Willows, "I woke long before daybreak and
came out with Will here to see how we stood. But we are all right. My
ancestors were simple men, but what they did they did with all their
hearts. It must have been very slow work year by year, the quarrying
and bringing down all these stones; but they planted them well, the lime
they burned was of the best, and it is harder now than the stone itself.
The dam has stood two hundred years, and it is so solid that it looks
as if it would stand two hundred more."

"Then we are all right," cried Manners, heartily.

"Yes, we are all right," said Mr Willows, smiling and holding out his
hand; "and this is nice and neighbourly of you, a stranger, Mr Manners,
to speak like this."

"Neighbourly?" said Manners, colouring through his well-tanned skin.
"Oh, I don't know about that. Only, you see, coming down year after
year, and seeing so much of the boys, one seems to know you all so
well."

"Exactly," said the Vicar, smiling; "Willows is quite right; it is
neighbourly, or we will say brotherly, if you like."

"No, no, no!" cried the artist. "Here, I'll tell you what to say--
nothing. But I am heartily glad there is no serious mischief done."

"None at all," said Willows. "Rather good. The big pool was getting
very low. Now we shall be all right for months. The water's falling
fast, and in half an hour I shall have the waste water-sluices closed,
and by mid-day the stream will be running much as usual."

"That's right," cried Manners. "I say, boys; lucky we had our fishing
last night. Why, every trout will have been washed down-stream and out
to sea."

"Not one," cried Will. "Will they, father?"

"No, my boy; I don't suppose they will; they'll have got