Hester's Counterpart Part 27

By evening, the students began to experience the pangs of hunger and thirst. There was nothing to satisfy them, for although there was water, water, everywhere, there was not a drop to drink. At twilight, the lower floors were above the flood, although at intervals, a sudden splash from without sent little streams back through the door.

The pupils were yet under the spell of the flood. Unusual quiet reigned in the dormitories, when suddenly a cry of delight came from Erma. Her voice echoed from one end of the hall to the other, and reached even to Miss Burkham's ears; but that lady did not appear to reprimand her. The preceptress realized that the girls had been under a nervous strain all day and she did not have it in mind to restrain them, even though they exceeded the bounds laid down by Seminary law.

"What has happened to Erma?" exclaimed Hester, starting up when the cry reached her ears.

"Don't be alarmed. It is nothing serious. I can tell from her voice.

That shriek is Erma's cry of delight."

In an instant, Erma herself tripped down the hall to explain and to share. Knocking hastily, she did not wait to be admitted, but flung open the door.

"What do you think I found?" she cried. "A half-dozen lemons. I forgot that I had them. I bought them last week. Here, we're dividing."

She thrust one out at them. It had already been opened and part of its contents extracted.

"There wasn't enough for one a piece. Just take a good long suck from it."

The girls did. There was nothing humorous in this pa.s.sing a lemon about among many. Not a drop of liquid had pa.s.sed their lips since the night before. The few drops of juice which they were able to extract, were refreshing.

"Doesn't it taste good?" cried Erma. "I never knew before how perfectly delicious a cup of cold water is. Wait until I have the opportunity. I mean to drink a gallon without stopping. I must go on. The girls in Sixty haven't had any yet."

She was gone before Hester and Helen had expressed their thanks. Before she reached Sixty, the door opened and Renee came out. "I was looking for you, Erma. Someone said you had found some lemons. Can't you lend me one?"

"What's left of one. Take it and drain it dry." It was almost that now, but Renee received it thankfully.

"I thought I could not stand it another minute. How long will it be before we get anything to eat or drink?"

"In a week or so," cried Erma as she pa.s.sed on.

Sunday morning broke clear and bright. There were no rising or breakfast bells, for there was nothing to serve the hungry people.

Doctor Weldon and Miss Burkham had conferred together and decided that as long as the girls were sleeping, they would be neither hungry nor thirsty, so they allowed them to sleep until they awakened of themselves.

The perversity of human nature showed itself in every girl's being awake unusually early. At the usual breakfast hour, the upper halls were filled. It was the Sabbath, but on the lower floor the servants were at hard work. The women were wearing top-boots and short skirts, which reached just below the knees. They were dragging out the mud with hoes.

In the middle of the floors, the sand and mud were fully a foot deep while in corners, which had been free from the force of the current, the deposit was three times that depth.

In the middle of the main floor, a saw-log lay. A great hole in the plaster showed where it had spent its force, and the shattered gla.s.s of the front door was evidence of its place of entrance. The curtains of real lace which had added to the beauty of the reception hall, were nothing but dirty rags, discolored, torn, and hung with bits of drift.

The sun beat down upon the water-soaked places, and the steam which arose, was foul-smelling. The men who were endeavoring to do the heavier portion of clearing, were knee-deep in the drift. The flood had receded, but the bas.e.m.e.nt was yet full of water. The conditions were bad and would remain so for some time, regardless of the fact that everyone was doing his utmost to better them.

There was nothing to be hoped from the city, for it had its own burden.

The store-houses had been flooded and the food supply cut off.

Miss Burkham went to Doctor Weldon. "What do you think of my taking the girls from the building?" she asked. "The hygienic conditions here are dreadful. Outside we can find the sunshine, at least. I can take them through the city streets--wherever the streets are open. I think we can keep them better satisfied if we keep their attention on something else than themselves."

"Perhaps, it would be better. I have been concerned about them. They have been most thoughtful and considerate so far. You may take the Fraulein with you--and the school purse, too, Miss Burkham. You may be able to buy something for them."

"While you are gone, I'll try to get into communication with our people at Flemington. The telephone and telegraphs are useless. Marshall and Herman might be able to walk out and carry something back. It will be hours before a delivery wagon can get through to bring us anything."

Following Miss Burkham's instructions, the girls dressed in their shortest and shabbiest skirts and put on heavy shoes. It was a dismal, hungry-looking party which set forth.

For a square down Main Street, the way was clear. They were often forced to leave the sidewalk and make a detour to escape the piles of drift which lay in heaps. The mud was over the tops of the rubber shoes, and the greater number had discarded overshoes before they had gone far. At the corner of Main and Clinton Avenue, they stopped. Their way was cut off by a great pile of logs, timbers, and uprooted trees which reached above the second story of the houses. Here and there, caught between the branches of the trees or the conjunction of timbers, were bits of household articles, parts of chairs, window frames or broken beds and soggy mattresses.

"We can climb over," suggested Hester. "That will not be much of a climb."

Miss Burkham had been hesitating. She feared to go on and yet to go back meant dissatisfied, hungry girls shut up in a wet, foul-smelling building.

"We'll climb," she said. "But be careful to move slowly, and not bring this down upon you."

The feat was not a difficult one. They succeeded in crossing and entered the business street. There was not a whole plate-gla.s.s window in this section. They had been shattered into bits so small that no trace of them could be found.

The girls entered what had been the largest and finest grocery store of the city. The mud was several feet deep; the show-cases had been battered to pieces; canned goods were piled in heaps in the corners and covered with refuse. But the combination most surprising, was where a large cheese had tumbled down upon a dead cow which had been washed in from some dairy farm far up the river.

Men were already clearing the streets, and shoveling the refuse from the stores.

From the business thoroughfare, Miss Burkham led her charges to the residence street. Here conditions were the same. The elegant houses bore the marks of the flood. Trees were uprooted. Lawns which but a few days before were things of beauty, were now but heaps of refuse, or hollows filled with water.

Doors and windows stood open wide. Delicate, cultivated women had arrayed themselves in overalls and were sc.r.a.ping the mud from their homes.

As they made their way eastward, Robert Vail hurried down a side-street to meet them.

"I started for school the instant I could," he explained to Miss Burkham. "I did not know how bad conditions were, but I expected they could not be good.

"I have a tally-ho and horses, but we could not get beyond Fairview Street. South Street is a mere chasm. The horses could not have crossed there. I did reach Miss Alden and Miss Richards. My man took them back home while I came in."

Hester grasped his arm. "Auntie--is Auntie all right?"

"Fine as silk. She was concerned about you until we satisfied her that seminary girls could not be gotten rid of so easily. It takes more than a flood--" He spoke lightly to the girls and then turned to Miss Burkham. "Our housekeeper said I should fill up the tally-ho and bring the girls there. The buildings at school will not be fit to live in for some days. We'll take care of eighteen or twenty until you arrange matters."

A feeling of relief came to the preceptress. "You have taken a great responsibility from Doctor Weldon and me," she said. "We shall never be able to thank you. As to the girls, Hester and Helen, of course must go; also the Fraulein, for I must not allow the girls to go alone."

She turned to the group about her, and selected the number which would fill the tally-ho.

"You girls will go with the Fraulein and Mr. Vail, and remain until we send you word to return. Berenice, Violet, Edith and I will return to school."

"I declare, this is too bad," cried Robert. "I cannot allow you to walk back, and without anything to eat."

"You cannot help it. The circ.u.mstances are unusual. The elements have our fortunes in hand," she replied.

"The instant I get the young ladies home, my man and I will come back with all the good things we can carry. Tell Doctor Weldon that we shall have a dinner--perhaps a late one--for her."

"She has sent messengers to Flemington. They will bring us something for one meal at least. Come, girls." She led her little flock toward home.

There was no hope of finding a bite to eat anywhere in the city. Men and women had worked all night and were yet working without a particle of food or drop to drink. The preceptress was worn and weak. Her responsibility for the last two days had been great; but she did not dare give up. She trudged bravely toward school, encouraging the girls and drawing their attention to any phase of the situation which was not burdened with pathos.

Robert Vail led his party down the residence street and then turned down an alley. "These narrow pa.s.sages have less drift," he explained. "My man and I discovered this this morning."

By devious ways, he brought them out on High Street which stood above the ravages of the flood. Here a tally-ho with four horses stood waiting.

Robert a.s.sisted the Fraulein and girls to their places and bade the coachman drive on. Hester and Helen sat side by side.