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Updated: May 29, 2025
Nan Redfurn was so far from feeling the day to be hot, that when her cold ague-fit came on, she begged to be allowed to go down to the kitchen fire.
Ailwin had observed that this never happened but when the Redfurns were in the neighbourhood; and she had always insisted upon it that they had bewitched the cow. Oliver knew that she would say so now. He said so much, and said it so seriously, about the necessity of milk for little George, that he thought not even a Redfurn could have the heart to drink up all the milk.
"That I will," said Gool. "I will go through with the thing now I am in it. I came off the minute I saw your red flag; and I might have been here sooner, if I had not been so full of watching the mill-sails, that I never looked off from them till my wife came to help to watch. Come, you woman," said he to Nan Redfurn, "make no faces about going to prison, for I am about to give you a ride there."
He rose, and thought he could find a cooler place, further under the trees. He did so, and again lay down. Sleep began to steal over him; and, at the same time, the thought crept into his mind that he should never more see Stephen Redfurn.
"I thought I heard a child crying a great way off," said Mildred, trembling. "It was not a child, dear. It was a shriek, a woman's shriek, I am afraid. I am afraid it is Nan Redfurn, somewhere in the carr. O dear, if they should all be drowned, and nobody there to help them!" "No, no, I don't believe it," said Mildred. "They have got up somewhere, climbed up something, that bank or something."
The miller looked grave, and said here was an end of all peace, for some time to come. "Are you all at the mercy of a boy like Roger Redfurn," asked the pastor, "so that you look as if a plague had come with this fresh breeze?" "And his uncle, sir." "And his aunt," added Mildred. "You know what Stephen Redfurn is, sir," observed Mr Linacre. "Roger beats even him for mischief.
It was a horrid sight: and it brought the horrid thought that soon probably there would be no game left for food for the party; and that what there was meantime might be unwholesome. Oliver had never imagined that the old boy, Roger Redfurn, could look so alarmed as he did at this moment. "Never mind, now, Roger," said he, "what is likely to become of you and me. Wait, and find that out by-and-by.
It was certainly Roger Redfurn the plague of the settlers, who, with his uncle, Stephen Redfurn, was always doing all the mischief he could to everybody who had, as he said, trespassed on the marshes. Nobody liked to see the Redfurns sitting down in the neighbourhood; and still less, skulking about the premises.
There is a woman!" exclaimed Mildred. "Is that Nan?" "Yes; that is Nan Redfurn, Stephen's wife. That is their great net that she has over her arm. They are going to draw the oval pond, I think. We can watch their sport nicely here. They cannot see an inch of us." "But we do not like that they should watch us," said Mildred, drawing back.
Is it possible that you are all alive, after such a calamity as this?" "George is dead, sir. We buried him yesterday. Ailwin is here, with Mildred and me; and Roger Redfurn." One of the men observed that he had hoped, as one good that would come of the flood, that the Levels were rid of the Redfurns. "Do not say that," said Oliver.
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