Every sluice and mill-dam were opened, but the torrent poured past them, and at Cottington Mill it swept from millpool to tail right over the road which divided them, and washed away nearly the whole garden. When the rain ceased the worst had to come, for the upper waters did not reach Eastthorpe until three or four days later. Then there was indeed a sight to be seen! The southern end of Eastthorpe High Street was actually two feet under water, and a man in a boat--event to be recorded for ever in the Eastthorpe annals--went from the timber yard on one side of the street through the timber-yard gates and into the coal- yard opposite. Parts of haystacks, trees, and dead bodies of sheep and oxen drove down on the yellow, raging waves, and were caught against the abutments of the bridge. At one time it was thought that it must give way, for the arches were choked; the water was inches higher on the west side than on the east, and men with long poles stood on the parapet to break up the obstructions. At last the flood began to subside, and on the afternoon of the day of the creditors' meeting Mr. Orkid Jim appeared at the boathouse at the bottom of Rectory Lane and asked to be taken across. The stream was still very strong, but the meadows were clear, and some repair was necessary to the iron work of a sluice-gate just opposite, which Jim wished to inspect before the men were set to work. "Don't know as it's safe, Mr. Jim," said the boatman. "It's as much as ever I can get through. It goes uncommon strong against the willows there." "You'll get through all right. I'll give yer a hand. I don't care to go a mile round over the bridge." "Yes, that's all very well, Mr. Jim, but I don't want my boat smashed." "Smashed! I am a lucky one, I am. No harm comes to any boat or trap as long as I'm in it." The boatman consented. Just as he was about to push off, another man came down and asked for a passage. It was Tom Catchpole. Jim stared, but said nothing to him. The boatman also knew Tom, but did not speak. Jim now had half a mind to alter his intention of crossing. "I don't know as I'll go," said he. "It does look queer, and no mistake." "Well, don't keep me a-waitin', that's all." Jim took his seat and went to the stern. Tom sat in the bow, and the boatman took the sculls. He had to make for a point far above the island, so as to allow for the current, and he just succeeded in clearing it. He then began to drift down to the landing-place in the comparatively still water between the island and the mainland.