d then
it was that for the first time she became aware of a dreadful, roaring
noise, a noise of many waters. Time passed as it passes in a nightmare,
till suddenly, above the dull roar, came sharp sounds as of wood
cracking and splitting, and Elsa felt that the whole fabric of the mill
had tilted. Beneath the pressure of the flood it had given where it
was weakest, at its narrow waist, and now its red cap hung over like a
wind-laid tree.

Terror took hold of Elsa, and running to the door she opened it hoping
to escape down the stairs. Behold! water was creeping up them, she could
see it by the lantern in her hand--her retreat was cut off. But there
were other stairs leading to the top storey of the mill that now lay at
a steep angle, and along these she climbed, since the water was pouring
through her doorway and there was nowhere else to go. In the very roof
of the place was a manhole with a rotten hatch. She passed through this,
to find herself upon the top of the mill just where one of the great
naked arms of the sails projected from it. Her lantern was blown out by
now, but she clung to the arm, and became aware that the wooden cap of
the structure, still anchored to its brick foundation, lay upon its side
rocking to and fro like a boat upon an angry sea. The water was near
her; that she knew by its seethe and rush, although she could not see
it, but as yet it did not even wet her feet.

The hours went by, how many, she never learned, till at length the
clouds cleared; the moon became visible, and by its light she saw an
awful scene. Everywhere around was water; it lapped within a yard, and
it was rising still. Now Elsa saw that in the great beam she clasped
were placed short spokes for the use of those who set the sails above.
Up these she climbed as best she might, till she was able to pass her
body between two of the vanes and support her breast upon the flat
surface of one of them, as a person does who leans out of a window. From
her window there was something to see. Quite near to her, but separated
by fifteen or twenty feet of yellow frothing water, a little portion
of the swelling shape of the mill stood clear of the flood. To this
foam-lapped island clung two human beings--Hague Simon and Black Meg.
They saw her also and screamed for help, but she had none to give.
Surely it was a dream--nothing so awful could happen outside a dream.

The fabric of the mill tilted more and more; the space to which the two