The Seven Cardinal Sins: Envy and Indolence Part 35

"On the pond not far from the house, I have seen a little boat; is it there still?"

"Yes, M. David."

"Is it light enough to be carried on the cart?"

"Certainly, M. David."

"Frederick and I will a.s.sist you in placing it there. Run and hitch up; we will join you."

Andre hurried to the stable.

"Now, madame," said David to Marie, "please have prepared immediately some bottles of wine and two or three coverings. We will carry them in the boat; for these poor people, if we succeed in saving them, will be dying of cold and want. Have some beds and a fire made ready, too, that every care can be given to them when we arrive. Now, Frederick, we will a.s.sist Andre, and go as quickly as possible to the pond."

While David hastily disappeared with Frederick, Madame Bastien and Marguerite eagerly executed David's orders.

The horse, promptly hitched to the cart, took David and Frederick to the pond.

"My friend," said the young man to his preceptor, his eyes glowing with ardour and impatience, "we will save these unfortunate people, will we not?"

"I hope so, my child, but the danger will be great; when we pa.s.s this stagnant water, we will enter the current of the overflow, and it must be as rapid as a torrent."

"Well, what matters danger, my friend?"

"We must know it to triumph over it, my child. Now, tell me," added David, with emotion, "do you not think that, in thus generously exposing your own life, you will more worthily expiate the dreadful deed you wished to commit, than by seeking a fruitless death in suicide?"

A pa.s.sionate embrace on the part of Frederick made David see that he was understood.

The cart just at this moment crossed a highway in order to reach the pond in time.

A gendarme, urging his horse to a galop, arrived at full speed.

"Is the overflow still rising?" cried David to the soldier, making a sign to him with his hand to stop.

"The water is rising all the time, sir," replied the gendarme, panting for breath; "the embankments are just broken. There is thirty feet of water in the valley--the route to Pont Brillant is cut off--the only boat that we had for salvage has just capsized with those who manned it.

All have perished, and I am hurrying to the castle for more men and boats."

And the soldier plunged his rowels into the horse, which was covered with foam, and galloped away.

"Oh!" cried Frederick, with enthusiasm, "we will arrive before the people from the castle, will we not?"

"You see, my child, envy has some good in it," said David, who penetrated the secret thought of Frederick.

The cart soon arrived at the pond. Andre, Frederick, and David easily placed the little boat on the conveyance. At the same time David, with that foresight which never forsook him, carefully examined the oars, and the tholes which serve to keep the oars in place.

"Andre," said he to the gardener, "have you a knife?"

"Yes, M. David."

"Give it to me. Now, you, Frederick, return to the house with Andre; hasten the speed of the horse as much as possible, for the water rises every minute, and will swallow up the poor people below."

"But you, my friend?"

"I see here some young branches of oak; I am going to cut them so as to repair the tholes of the boat; they are old, the green wood is stronger and more pliant. Go, go, I will join you in haste."

The cart drove away; the old horse, vigorously belaboured with the whip, and smelling the house, as they say, began to trot. David chose the wood necessary for his work, soon joined the cart, which he followed on foot, as did Frederick, not willing to overburden the horse. As they walked, the preceptor gave the tholes a suitable shape; Frederick looked at him with surprise.

"You think of everything," said he.

"My dear child, when on my travels over the great lakes of America, I frequently saw terrible inundations. I have helped the Indians in several salvages and I learned then that a little precaution often spares one many perils. So I have prepared three sets of tholes, for it is probable we may break some, and as the sailor's proverb says: 'A broken thole, a dead oar.'"

"It is true that when an oar lacks a solid support, it becomes almost useless."

"And what would become of us in the middle of the gulf with one oar? We should be lost."

"That is true, my friend."

"Now we must prepare to row vigorously, for we shall encounter trees, and steep banks in roads and other obstructions which may give a violent jolt to our oars and perhaps break them. Have you no spare oars?"

"There is another one at the house."

"We will carry it with us, because, if we should lack an oar, the rescue of these poor people would become impossible and our loss certain. You row well, do you?"

"Yes, my friend, one of my greatest pleasures was to row mother across the pond."

"You will be at home with the oars then; I will sound the water and direct the boat by means of a boat-hook. I explain to you now my child, every essential point, as I shall not have time to address a word to you, when we are on the water. Do not let your oars drag. After each stroke of the oar, lift them horizontally; they might become entangled or break on some obstacle between wind and water, which renders navigation so dangerous on these submerged lands."

"I will forget nothing, my friend; make yourself easy," replied Frederick, to whom the coolness and experience of David gave unlimited courage.

When the cart reached the house, David and Frederick met a great number of peasants weeping bitterly, and driving before them all kinds of animals. Some were walking by the side of wagons laden with furniture piled pell-mell, kitchen utensils, mattresses, clothing, barrels, sacks of grain, all s.n.a.t.c.hed in haste from the devouring waves of the overflow.

Some women carried nursing children, others had little boys and girls on their backs, while the men were trying to guide the frightened beasts.

"Does the water continue to rise, my poor people?" asked David, without stopping, and walking along by their side.

"Alas, monsieur, it is still rising; the bridge of Blemur has been carried off by the waves," said one.

"There was already four feet of water in the village when we left it,"

said another.

"The great floats of wood in the basin of St. Pierre have been swept into the current of the valley," said a third.

"They came down like a thunderbolt, struck two large boats manned with sailors coming to aid the people, and capsized them."

"All those brave men were drowned," said another, "for the Loire at its highest water is not half as rapid as the current of the overflow."

"And those unhappy people below!" said Frederick, impatiently. "Shall we arrive in time? My G.o.d! Oh, if the men from the castle get there before we do!"

The cart was at the farm; while they were putting provisions and coverings in the little boat, David asked Andre for a hedging knife, and went to select a long branch of the ash-tree, from which he cut about ten feet, light, supple, and easily handled. An iron hook, which had served as a pulley for a bucket, was solidly fastened to the end of this improvised instrument, which would answer to tow the boat from apparent obstacles, or to sustain it along the roof of the submerged house; the long well-rope was also laid in the little boat, as well as two or three light planks, solidly bound together, and capable of serving as a buoy of salvage in a desperate case.