The third and last day
was, however, not the success we could have wished. During the night
the weather turned hot, and the food turned--well, not good,--and next
morning the obligatory sacrifice to Father Thames was appalling. Then
when the necessary viands did not arrive from London, I in my capacity
of "professional guest," and of being always ready for any emergency,
volunteered to forage in Henley town. Oh! that expedition. I fought
at the fishmonger's, battled at the butcher's and baker's, grovelled
at the grocer's, and finally ended by committing a theft at the
butterman's. The number of our visitors was large, and was much
augmented by friends' friends, who came in battalions. It may have
been the extra weight on board, or it may be that the hunted rat had
designed a base revenge, but during lunch, and just as KITTY'S husband
was beginning to be genial, an odd idea seized me that the river was
rising. Yes! And the bank behind us was rising too. And gracious! the
water was flowing over the little promenade place, and running about
the floor of the saloon; and then the _Goldfields_ gave a lurch and a
shiver, and settled down in the mud, with a foot-and-a-half of dirty
water downstairs, and nothing but the roof left us to perch upon.
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