Of course, there was still the northern road—but with such a downpour, there was no certainty the dyke would hold.
"I need to go as well."
Philip shook his head at Eloise's words.
"I understand your concern about Feltham. But the rain is too heavy at present. Perhaps you could wait until it subsides somewhat?"
"But—"
"Besides, Ryan and Richard said they'd assess the situation and return immediately. The road may have become hazardous somewhere, so it wouldn't be too late to depart after they return and report."
After Philip's persuasion, Eloise could no longer insist.
She could have ridden out alone on horseback. But if she went by carriage, she would need both a cart and a coachman from Blissbury—so she couldn't act selfishly.
Their safety mattered as well.
"All right. I need to pack my things, so I'll return to my room."
"Are you truly leaving? Perhaps we should wait until the rain stops?" Julia asked. She was concerned that if Eloise departed, she herself would have to return soon—so she feigned worry.
"I'm anxious about my mother. Though Emily is with her, my father is not—so she's likely even more distressed. It would be easier if we had as many family members as you do."
At these words, Julia calmed slightly.
Unlike the Severton family—where only Eloise's mother remained—the Ogilvys had many relatives. If anything happened, everyone would rally together. Julia believed they could overcome any difficulty.
Eloise immediately returned to her room and began packing.
She'd been here a long while, so she had accumulated many belongings. Emily had brought especially numerous summer garments—three bags were already full.
*I'd prefer to travel light, but then I'll have nothing to wear at home.*
Eloise sorted through her things again. It would have been ideal to go by carriage, but with this rain, the roads were likely washed out. In that case, she would have to ride alone—which meant she could carry no more than one bag.
Quickly gathering what was essential, Eloise went back downstairs.
"I've ordered the coachman to prepare the carriage and horses. But in this weather..." Mr. Palmer's face was deeply worried. He clearly wished to dissuade Eloise from the journey. "In any case, as soon as the sergeants return and report on the state of the roads, we'll have everything ready at once."
"Thank you, Mr. Palmer."
Though he said everything would be prepared, her anxiety did not subside.
Eloise sat in the sitting room and waited for Ryan and Richard to return.
Time dragged.
"They're taking too long," Abigail murmured, glancing at her watch. They had departed in the morning and hadn't returned by three o'clock.
Even accounting for the rain, they had been gone far too long.
"I hope nothing has happened to them?" Julia couldn't conceal her concern either.
They had left together—so that if something occurred, one could return for help.
The anxiety of those waiting grew.
Finally, Philip stood.
"Mr. Palmer, please ask one of the servants who can ride. It seems I'll have to go and investigate as well."
Just as Mr. Palmer was about to agree, the maid at the entrance shouted:
"There! People are coming!"
At these words, everyone rushed to the window and looked where she pointed.
They assumed Ryan and Richard had finally returned—but several figures appeared at the end of the road instead.
They were heading directly for Blissbury. Who could be walking in such numbers through such a downpour? As they approached, the expressions of those in the mansion grew increasingly tense.
"Those people... they're from Feltham, aren't they?"
"It appears so. The one in front—I believe that's Mr. Turner?"
At that moment, the man at the head of the group broke into a run toward Blissbury. As he drew closer, there was no doubt. It was Mr. Turner.
"Mr. Turner!"
Eloise ran to the entrance, seized an umbrella, and dashed out into the storm.
Despite the large umbrella, her clothes were instantly soaked by the fierce wind and rain—but there was no time to care.
"Miss Eloise!"
Mr. Turner, relieved beyond measure, ran even faster. But he looked dreadful.
"Oh my God, Mr. Turner. What happened?"
He was covered chest-deep in mud. Gasping for breath, he spoke urgently:
"The dyke's in danger! Water's leaking, and a landslide has begun! The houses nearby are buried beneath earth! And I... I tried to save those people..."
As he spoke, Mr. Turner sobbed, remembering the horror.
"If it hadn't been for Sergeant Thornton and Sergeant Cameron, things would have been catastrophic. As soon as we pulled everyone out, the house collapsed."
As she listened, Eloise looked toward the approaching group. They all appeared just as Mr. Turner did.
The faces of the children sitting in the carts were twisted with terror. Some people bore splints fashioned from dirty rags on their arms and legs—clearly fractures.
"Sergeant Thornton ordered that people be brought to Blissbury immediately... We brought the children and the wounded first. If you don't mind, we'd all like to shelter at Blissbury..."
"What do you mean 'if I don't mind'? Hurry! Into the house, quickly!"
Eloise ran to the nearest cart with her umbrella. The children—whom she knew well—stared at her with fear.
Eloise lifted the smallest child.
"Eloise..."
"Emma? Where are your mother and father?"
She was the daughter of Mr. Hampton, who lived in the uppermost house in Feltham. He tended his orchards and was so generous that during apple harvest, he distributed fruit to everyone in the village.
Eloise knew how dearly the Hamptons cherished their only daughter—yet they were absent. Only the girl had arrived.
"Mama and Papa said they had to help others... and... and told me to go ahead..." Emma, remembering her mother, could bear it no longer and burst into tears.
Eloise felt a flicker of relief knowing the Hamptons were alive—but as soon as Emma began crying, the other children began weeping as well.
Eloise handed the umbrella to Mr. Turner and, carrying Emma, hurried back toward Blissbury.
Mrs. Parker and the maids were already standing at the entrance, having heard the commotion but uncertain what to do.
"It appears the dyke at Feltham is failing! Most of these people are children and injured—so clear all the furniture from the unused ground-floor rooms and spread the softest bedding on the floors! Prepare warm water and clean clothes so people can wash!" Eloise called out to the assembled group.
People who had been frozen in uncertainty snapped into action at her commanding voice.
"Sergeant Osborne! Julia! Come with me and help people down. Abigail—please look after Emma," Eloise said, handing Emma to Abigail, who sat nearby.
A moment later, people began streaming into Blissbury. They dripped mud onto the floors—but there was no time to care about that now.
The young children were immediately taken to the bathrooms. Philip and the servants carried the wounded adults to rooms.
Blissbury became a battlefield overnight.
Before they had finished tending to the first group, more figures appeared on the hill. These, too, were residents of Feltham.
Eloise immediately ran out to meet them. Several of the carts were occupied mostly by elderly villagers.
"Is everyone all right? Are there any injured?"
"We're unharmed. And the children...?"
"Everyone has arrived safely. Come inside." Eloise turned to the young man in the back of the cart. "Ellen? Did you hurt your leg?"
"Yes. I believe so. If it weren't for this, I would have gone with my brothers to help rescue people..." Ellen slammed his fist against the bed of the cart in frustration.
"How is the situation in the village?"
"It's dire. The mud flowing from the dyke keeps worsening. If this continues, it'll collapse entirely!" Ellen went on.
This morning, filthy water had begun seeping from the dyke. Then, suddenly, a landslide erupted.
The houses in the northwestern part of the village were submerged ankle-deep in mud. Fortunately, the eastern, higher ground remained safe, and people had climbed there before they could even gather belongings.
But conditions were precarious there as well. If the dyke collapsed completely, it could engulf that area too. And the bridge leading out of the village had begun to sway dangerously.