More than that would cause a pressure which might strain, and perhaps burst, their apparatus.
He pushed the sluice down a little, and waited a moment.
"Is it coming yet, Sandy ?" he cried.
"Not a drop," shouted Sandy.
Willie pushed it a little further, and then knew by the change in the gurgle below that the water was rising in the well; and it soon began to spout from the hole in the cover through which the sluice-handle came up.
"It's coming," cried Sandy, after a pause; "not much, though." Down went the sluice a little further still.
"It's pouring," echoed the voice of Sandy amongst the ruins; "as much as ever the pipe can give.

Its mouth is quite full." Willie raised the sluice a little.
"How is it now ?" he bawled.
"Less," cried Sandy.
So Willie pushed it back to where it had been last, and made a notch in the handle to know the right place again.
So the water from the Prior's Well went careering through Willie's bed-chamber, a story high.

When he wanted to fill his bath, he had only to stop the run with his hand, and it poured over the sides into it; so that Tibbie was to be henceforth relieved of a great labour, while Willie's eyes were to be delighted with the vision, and his ears with the sounds of the water scampering through his room.
An hour or so after, as he was finishing off something about the mouth of the well, he heard his father calling him.
"Willie, Willie," he shouted, "is this any more of your kelpie work ?" "What is it, father ?" cried Willie, as he came bounding to him.
He needed no reply when he saw a great pool of water about the back door, fed by a small stream from the direction of the woodhouse.

Tibbie had come out, and was looking on in dismay.
"That's Willie again, sir," she was saying.

"You never can tell where he'll be spouting that weary water at you." [Illustration: TIBBIE, LOOKING ON IN DISMAY, SAID, "THAT'S WILLIE AGAIN."] The whole place'll be bog before long, and we'll be all turned into frogs, and have nothing to do but croak.