The Flood | Page 5

we run no danger--the walls are good and strong. We must get up on the roof."
That was the only refuge left us. The water, which had mounted the stairs step by step, was already coming through the door. We rushed to the attic in a group, holding close to each other. Cyprien had disappeared. I called him, and I saw him return from the next room, his face working with emotion. Then, as I remarked the absence of the servants, for whom I was waiting,he gave me a strange look, then said, in a suppressed voice:
"Dead! The corner of the shed under their room caved in."
The poor girls must have gone to fetch their savings from their trunks. I told him to say nothing about it. A cold shiver had passed over me. It was Death entering the house.
When we went up, in our turn, we did not even think of putting out the lights. The cards remained spread upon the table. There was already a foot of water in the room.
III.
Fortunately, the roof was vast and sloped gently. We reached it through a lid- like window, above which was a sort of platform. It was there that we took refuge. The women seated themselves. The men went over the tiles to reconnoitre. From my post against the dormer window through which we had climbed, I examined the four points of the horizon.
"Help cannot fail to arrive," I said, bravely. "The people of Saintin have boats; they will come this way. Look over there! Isn't that a lantern on the water?"
But no one answered me. Pierre had lighted his pipe, and he was smoking so furiously that, at each puff, he spit out pieces of the stem. Jacques and Cyprien looked into the distance, with drawn faces; while Gaspard, clenching his fists, continued to walk about, seeking an issue. At our feet the women, silent and shivering, hid their faces to shut out the sight. Yet Rose raised her head, glanced about her and demanded:
"And the servants? Where are they? Why, aren't they here?"
I avoided answering. She then questioned me, her eyes on mine.
"Where are the servants?"
I turned away, unable to lie. I felt that chill that had already brushed me pass over our women and our dear girls. They had understood. Marie burst into tears. Aimee wrapped her two children in her skirt, as if to protect them. Veronique, her face in her hands, did not move. Aunt Agathe, very pale, made the sign of the cross, and mumbled Paters and Aves.
Meanwhile the spectacle about us became of sovereign grandeur. The night retained the clearness of a summer night. There was no moon, but the sky was sprinkled with stars, and was of so pure a blue that it seemed to fill space with a blue light. And the immense sheet of water expanded beneath the softness of the sky. We could no longer see any land.
"The water is rising; the water is rising!" repeated my brother Pierre, still crunching the stem of his pipe between his teeth.
The water was within a yard of the roof. It was losing its tranquility; currents were being formed. In less than an hour the water became threatening, dashing against the house, bearing drifting barrels, pieces of wood, clumps of weeds. In the distance there were attacks upon walls, and we could hear the resounding shocks. Poplar trees fell, houses crumbled, like a cartload of stones emptied by the roadside.
Jacques, unnerved by the sobs of the women, cried:
"We can't stay here. We must try something. Father, I beg of you, try to do something."
I stammered after him:
"Yes, yes; let us try to do something."
And we knew of nothing. Gaspard offered to take Veronique on his back and swim with her to a place of safety. Pierre suggested a raft. Cyprien finally said:
"If we could only reach the church!"
Above the waters the church remained standing, with its little square steeple. We were separated from it by seven houses. Our farmhouse, the first of the village, adjoined a higher building, which, in turn, leaned against the next. Perhaps, by way of the roofs, we would be able to reach the parsonage. A number of people must have taken refuge there already, for the neighboring roofs were vacant, and we could hear voices that surely came from the steeple. But what dangers must be run to reach them!
"It is impossible," said Pierre. "The house of the Raimbeaus is too high; we would need ladders."
"I am going to try it," said Cyprien. "I will return if the way is impracticable. Otherwise, we will all go and we will have to carry the girls."
I let him go. He was right. We had to try the impossible. He had succeeded, by the aid of an iron hook fixed in