for you."

And, first throwing in his pipe, he plunged, adding:

"Good night! I have had enough!"

He did not come up. He was not a strong swimmer, and he probably abandoned
himself, heart-broken at the death of our dear ones and at our ruin.

Two o'clock sounded from the steeple of the church. The night would soon end--
that horrible night already so filled with agony and tears. Little by little,
beneath our feet, the small dry space grew smaller. The current had changed
again. The drift, passed to the right of the village, floating slowly, as if
the water, nearing its highest level, was reposing, tired and lazy.

Gaspard suddenly took off his shoes and his shirt. I watched him for a moment
as he wrung his hands. When I questioned him he said:

"Listen, grandfather; it is killing me to wait. I cannot stay here. Let me do
as I wish. I will save her."

He was speaking of Veronique. I opposed him. He would never have the strength
to carry the young girl to the church. But he was obstinate.

"Yes, I can! My arms are strong. I feel myself able. You will see. I love
her--I
will save her!"

I was silent. I drew Marie to my breast. Then he thought I was reproaching the
selfishness of his love. He stammered: