"Ahoy, there! Drinkwater! Ahoy! What are you hinging back there for?" shouted the north-country man. "More wuck to do. Come on and help." All eyes were directed now to a solitary figure standing on the top of the great stone wall as if inspecting the damaged spot. "What's he stopping there for?" cried the Vicar, excitedly. "Why, Drinkwater, my lad," shouted Willows, between his hands, "you can't stay there. Come over to us here. Quick, man! Quick!" The old fellow turned and shaded his eyes again, gazing fiercely at the speaker, and, as he lowered his hand and came slowly towards them, Will noticed that across his white brow there was a broad mark of blood. "Father, look," he whispered, hoarsely; "what does that mean?" "A mark from his hands, my boy. He must have worn them raw. Poor fellow! He has been like a hero in this strife." The man came down, still slowly, and then ascended to where the group were awaiting further orders; but when these orders came, and with a rush the workers formed a line from the mill up to a shelf-like path where by no possibility could the pent-up water rise if the dam gave way, and began handing up rapidly bale after bale of finished silk, and mighty skeins of twisted thread, he did not stir a hand, but stood with the stain upon his brow, leaning against a corner of the mill, apparently exhausted, and never once taking his eyes from his master. For a full hour the men worked on, cheering loudly as the announcement was made that the wareroom was empty; and then a rush was made for the Mill House, where in turn all that was portable and good was borne away. Then came the end. For a long while past Willows and his friends had ceased to give any thought to the worldly goods, standing together intently watching for the danger they felt must come, and watching as it were in vain; for, save its ragged edge, from whence stones had been torn, the green and mossy old wall stood intact. The sluices still roared; along the great chute a solid-looking mass of crystal water rushed and gleamed and flashed before it bent over in a glorious curve to plunge on to the wheel and break in spray, while the men laughed and joked merrily, as they made a play of their heavy toil and shouted gaily to the two groups of watchers--their wives and children and work-mates--who shouted encouragingly back. And all at once, as if hoping to lighten their labours--lovers of music as these people are--a shrill, musical, woman's voice arose, starting a familiar chorus, which was taken up directly by the young, to rise and fall and swell along the valley, the sweet soprano tones supported by the roaring waters' heavy bass. "Bravo! Bravo!" shouted the Vicar, huskily, and as he spoke Will noticed that his voice sounded strange, and in the glance he obtained he noted that his eyes were filled with tears.