A flash of lightning came at that moment, faint, indeed, but sufficient to show him a horse carried away toward the Rhone, a horseman who had pulled up just in time upon the other brink, and a man struggling in the water and trying to hold by a smooth mass of fallen rock, just in the middle of the torrent, about twelve yards from him. He paused not to consider, but ran as far as he could up the water, dashed in, and swam with all his strength toward the drowning man, whom he could just distinguish. Borne down by the current, he drifted right to the rock, calling aloud, in French, "Do not touch me, and I will save you!" Such warnings are usually vain. The man's first effort was to clutch him; but Edward was prepared, and kept him off, catching him tightly by the back of the neck. We have said that he was a good and practised swimmer; but neither skill nor strength would probably have carried him across that small space of twelve yards against that powerful current. But Jacques Beaupré caught sight of him, and exclaimed, "Here, Pierrot, catch my hand. Let us all be drowned in company." And, running in till the water reached his shoulders and almost carried him off his feet, he contrived to grasp Edward's arm and pull him on till he could touch ground. The young lad was almost exhausted, for the man, of whom he had never loosed his hold, had struggled to the last to grasp him, and the few moments since he had left the rock had been all one confused scene of strife amongst the dark and eddying waters. "Here; let me take him, sir," said Jacques: "if ever a man's life was nobly saved, it is his." And, throwing his brawny arms round the stranger, who struggled still, he carried him on to the road. Edward paused for a moment, as soon as he could resist the stream, to draw breath, and then slowly joined the rest. They had laid the stranger down on the bank, and for a moment or two he remained quite still, though his panting breath showed that his life was in no danger. "Here, moosoo, take some of this," said one of the blacksmiths, pouring some spirit out of a bottle into the stranger's mouth: "you owe that young seigneur something; for if he had not been here you would have been out of Savoy by this time." "I know it; I know it," said the rescued man, faintly. "Where is he? which is he?" "Look! look!" cried Pierrot: "there is a light up there, in one, two, three windows. That must be in the old chateau which these fellows said was all in ruins. Let us go up. We shall none of us ever get dry here, it is raining so hard." "Are you able, sir, to walk up to that castle?" asked Edward, speaking to the stranger, who had now raised himself upon his arm. "I fear your poor horse is lost beyond all hope." "Let the fiery brute go," said the other, petulantly: "if he would have obeyed the rein I should not have been in this plight. I will try to accompany you in a moment. But what castle is that? It must be Groslie, I think."