ad disappeared. The young man had Veronique in his arms.
When he had placed her near me he again jumped in, bringing up Marie,
her face so waxy white that I thought her dead. Then he plunged again.
But this time he searched in vain. Pierre had joined him. They talked
and gave each other indications that I could not hear. As they drew
themselves up on the roof, I cried:

"And Aunt Agathe? And Jacques? And Rose?"

They shook their heads. Large tears coursed down their cheeks. They
explained to me that Jacques had struck his head against a beam and that
Rose had been carried down with her husband's body, to which she clung.
Aunt Agathe had not reappeared.

Raising myself, I looked toward the roof, where Aimee stood. The water
was rising constantly. Aimee was now silent. I could see her upstretched
arms holding her children out of the water. Then they all sank, the
water closed over them beneath the drowsy light of the moon.

V.

There were only five of us on the roof now. The water left us but a
narrow band along the ridge. One of the chimneys had just been carried
away. We had to raise Marie and Veronique, who were still unconscious,
and support them almost in a standing position to prevent the waves
washing over their legs. At last, their senses returned, and our anguish
increased upon seeing them wet, shivering and crying miserably that they
did not wish to die.

The end had come. The destroyed village was marked by a few vestiges of
walls. Alone, the church reared its steeple intact, from whence came the
voices--a murmur of human beings in a refuge. There were no longer any
sounds of falling houses, like a cart of stones suddenly discharged. It
was as if we were abandoned, shipwrecked, a thousand miles from land.

One moment we thought we heard the dip of oars. Ah! what hopeful music!
How we all strained our eyes into space! We held our breath. But we
could see nothing. The yellow sheet stretched away, spotted with
black shadows. But none of those shadows--tops of trees, remnants of
walls--moved. Driftwood, weeds, empty barrels caused us false joy. We
waved our handkerchiefs until, realizing our error, we again succumbed
to our anxiety.

"Ah, I see it!" cried Gaspard, suddenly. "Look over there. A large
boat!"

And he pointed out a distant speck. I could see nothing, neither could
Pierre. But Gaspard insisted it was a boat. The sound of oars became
distinct. At last, we saw it. It was proceeding slowly