"People didn't know what to do and were panicking when Sergeant Thornton and Sergeant Cameron arrived," Ellen said, sobbing and wiping his eyes. "They immediately began pulling out anyone still trapped in houses and ordered everyone to get to Blissbury. Fortunately, the road to Blissbury was passable—except for a few deep puddles."
Listening to Ellen, Eloise breathed a sigh of relief.
The Severtons' house was located in the eastern part of the village, on the highest point—so Emily and her mother were unlikely to be harmed.
*But I can't relax.*
The house was on high ground. Even if the dyke collapsed, it wouldn't be in immediate danger. But if the eastern bridge gave way, who could say what would happen?
Eloise immediately returned to Blissbury and surveyed the scene.
Fortunately, thanks to everyone's swift actions, the first group had already begun regaining composure.
The weeping children, having received biscuits from the maids, devoured them eagerly. The wounded, having washed off the filth, had changed into clean clothes.
When the second group arrived, separated families found each other. Fortunately, many were grandparents—so the children huddled close and waited for their parents.
"Mr. Palmer, it appears the northern dyke at Feltham is failing. Residents will continue arriving at Blissbury. Prepare accommodations and food for them. And select the strongest of the servants—I'll need to take them with me to Feltham. Sergeant Osborne, may I ask you to oversee things here?"
"Perhaps it would be better if I went, and you remained here, Miss Eloise?"
Eloise shook her head.
"I must ensure my mother is safe. Besides, it's better if someone who knows the village goes. And strength is needed here as well."
Seeing the maids struggling to drag bedding downstairs, Philip nodded.
Having learned that carts could still pass through, Eloise and several servants took a cart with strong horses and headed for Feltham.
The rain continued pouring without cease.
---
"Over here! Help!"
A woman waved from a second-story window. Ryan, seeing her, stepped into the mud.
"Careful!" Richard shouted from behind, checking the rope tied around Ryan's waist.
Though he stumbled several times, Ryan made it safely to the entrance. Once inside, he secured a rope to a post and climbed upward.
After a few moments, Ryan descended with the old woman on his back. She was fastened to him with a thin rope.
"Hold on tight!"
In response to Ryan's command, the old woman merely murmured words of gratitude and clung to his neck. Only mother and daughter lived in this house. Fortunately, someone had noticed their absence and checked.
It turned out that though the landslide had only reached the old woman's knees, she was too weakened to escape—and they had become trapped on the second floor.
First, the daughter—gripping the rope—went ahead. Ryan followed her. Just as they reached Richard, the house behind them began tilting with a deafening crack.
"Cut the rope!"
The instant Ryan shouted, Richard—as if already prepared—immediately severed it.
At the same moment, the house began sliding and collapsing. The rope attached to it vanished instantly, dragged down with the structure.
If it hadn't been cut, the tree to which it was secured on Richard's side would have been uprooted—and the people nearby swept away with it.
Once the rope holding the old woman was untied, other young men seized her.
"Quickly, across the bridge!" Richard shouted, and the young men disappeared swiftly toward the crossing. The old woman's daughter followed.
Ryan dragged his hand across his face, wiping away rainwater, and asked Richard:
"Is anyone else left?"
"I don't think so! We need to move as well!"
They ran along the same route as the others.
Unlike other villages, this one was situated on a hill. The climb—which would ordinarily have been inconvenient—now became the residents' salvation.
Without it, all of Feltham would have been swept away by the landslide.
As Ryan climbed the slope, he turned his head and looked toward the western part of the village.
To call it a horrific sight was an understatement. The landslide, triggered by the failing dyke, had engulfed not only houses but also the fields beneath them.
Reddish, filthy water completely covered fields where the harvest had been ripening just days earlier—it was impossible to tell where anything had been.
"Ryan!" Richard urged.
Ryan turned away and headed toward the eastern side of the village.
As he ran, he glanced at the Severtons' house. The door stood open. The porch was covered in mud.
Evidence that hastily evacuated people had been received here.
When it became clear something was wrong with the dyke and people began evacuating, Mrs. Severton had immediately begun admitting them into the house. She'd sent Emily to check the eastern bridge.
When Emily returned and reported it was unstable, Mrs. Severton had immediately ordered the servants to ready the cart. She loaded the children and the infirm into it and sent them out of the village.
"Where are you sending them in such a downpour?" one resident had protested.
Mrs. Severton had scolded him sternly.
"If this bridge collapses as well, we'll be trapped! We're safe now—but if the dyke breaks, all the houses will be washed away!"
"But there are no houses out there! We'll have to remain in the rain..."
"What do you mean, no houses? Go to Blissbury! Ask for help!"
So the first group had headed to Blissbury—where they'd met Ryan and Richard.
---
When they reached the eastern bridge, villagers were waving and shouting from the opposite bank.
As soon as they crossed, a young man standing nearby called out:
"Where is Miss Eloise? Haven't you encountered her?"
At these words, Ryan immediately whirled around.
"Eloise? What does she have to do with this?"
"She just entered the village!"
"What nonsense? She should be at Blissbury!"
"She came from Blissbury with the servants! She helped those departing, and then—"
At that moment, Mrs. Ogilvy ran from the crowd, weeping.
She was in a dreadful state. Her usually elegantly styled hair was soaked and disheveled. Her clothes, like everyone else's, were caked in mud.
Moreover, she had cut herself somewhere—blood flowed from her hand.
"Andrew! He's nowhere to be found! I definitely brought him out! I... I was certain, and I returned to the village!" Mrs. Ogilvy collapsed to the ground and began babbling incoherently. "Eloise heard and said she understood, and people say she went into the village, and I thought he was here somewhere..."
Though Mrs. Ogilvy spoke disjointedly, Ryan understood what had happened.
Eloise had gone into the village to search for Andrew.
*Damn it!*
Ryan spun around. At that instant—
*Screa-e-eep.*
The wooden bridge emitted an ominous groan. Everyone stared at it with frozen faces. They realized the bridge was about to collapse.
Ryan shouted to the people:
"Besides Eloise, did anyone else enter the village?"
"N-no. In a situation like this, who would—"
"Good! That means there's no one else to search for."
With that, Ryan immediately turned and ran across the swaying bridge.
"Ryan!" Richard's cry came from behind, but he ignored it and ran forward.
Into the village. Toward her—searching for a child.
---
"Andrew!"
Eloise searched the barn frantically. It was located just below the Ogilvy house.
When she'd heard Andrew was missing, she had first searched everywhere. But Andrew was not among the gathered children.
*Where could he have gone?*
In such a downpour—when he should have been terrified—he would hardly have left everyone.
If he'd left, there must have been a reason.
Having considered this, Eloise recalled how Andrew had boasted to her at the summer celebration.
*"A ewe gave birth to a lamb in the barn! I bring him grass every day, and Mama let me raise him!"*
And how he'd bragged he would give it the coolest, most powerful name—and for that, he would diligently read the Bible to find the name of the mightiest angel.
As they'd ridden back to Feltham, Andrew had whispered in her ear:
*"I haven't shown him to anyone yet, but I'll show you. When you return to the village, come see us in the barn."*
She had found his promise to show her what was most precious endearing—and had agreed. Andrew had been so proud then, saying that upon returning he would go straight to the barn.
In such chaos, almost no one had been able to retrieve their livestock. And a small child would scarcely have been able to pull a lamb from a barn located far from the house.
*But if he had found it, he would have brought it out.*
Why wasn't Andrew anywhere to be seen?
Perhaps he'd gotten lost and been swept away by the landslide?
With these thoughts, she approached the barn—and at that very moment, she understood why Andrew was not visible.