At an order from him, we braced
our poles against the tiles to put out into the stream. But it seemed
as if the raft was attached to the roof. In spite of all our efforts,
we could not budge it. At each new effort the current swung us violently
against the house. And it was a dangerous manoeuvre, for the shock
threatened to break up the planks composing the raft.

So once again we were made to feel our helplessness. We had thought
ourselves saved, and we were still at the mercy of the river. I even
regretted that the women were not on the roof; for, every minute, I
expected to see them precipitated into the boiling torrent. But when I
suggested regaining our refuge they all cried:

"No, no! Let us try again! Better die here!"

Gaspard no longer laughed. We renewed our efforts, bending to our poles
with redoubled energy. Pierre then had the idea to climb up on the roof
and draw us, by means of a rope, towards the left. He was thus able to
draw us out of the current. Then, when he again jumped upon the raft, a
few thrusts of our poles sent us out into the open. But Gaspard recalled
the promise he had made me to stop for our poor Aimee, whose plaintive
moans had never ceased. For that purpose it was necessary to cross the
street, where the terrible current existed. He consulted me by a glance.
I was completely upset. Never had such a combat raged within me. We
would have to expose eight lives. And yet I had not the strength to
resist the mournful appeal.

"Yes, yes," I said to Gaspard. "We can not possibly go away without
her!"

He lowered his head without a word, and began using his pole against all
the walls left standing. We passed the neighboring house, but as soon
as we emerged into the street a cry escaped us. The current, which had
again seized us, carried us back against our house. We were whirled
round like a leaf, so rapidly that our cry was cut short by the smashing
of the raft against the tiles. There was a rending sound, the planks
were loosened and wrenched apart, and we were all thrown into the water.
I do not know what happened then. I remember that when I sank I saw Aunt
Agathe floating, sustained by her skirts, until she went down backward,
head first, without a struggle.

A sharp pain brought me to. Pierre was dragging me by the hair along the
tiles. I lay still, stupidly watching. Pierre had plunged in again. And,
in my confused state, I was surprised to see Gaspard at the spot where
my brother h