After the first pause of horror men here at the broken dam began to bestir themselves. Discipline was a thing forgotten, and _sauve qui peut_ was the law. It was some time before Doctor Barnes pulled himself together and began to try to get his men in hand. He ordered them to the lower end of the street, to drive the people out of their houses without an instant's delay; for none might say at what time the break in the dam would increase, in which case it soon would be too late for any hope. He himself hastened at last to the house where the two women were, Wid Gardner with him, after he had issued general orders for all the men to get up the trail above the dam as soon as possible. "Come out!" he cried as he opened the door. Mary Gage and Annie came arm in arm, both of them hysterical now. "It's all gone," said Doctor Barnes, not even bitterly, but calmly after all. "It's out. The dam's gone." "Gone? What does it mean? Where shall we go? Is there danger?" These questions came all at once from the two women. The roar of the waters drowned their voices. "Come quick! Get into my car. It's only a step up the grade--we'll be safe on the upper level." They came, Mary Gage still with her bandages in place, stumbling, terrified, but leading the little dog, Tim, who cringed down in curious terror of his own. Doctor Barnes hurried them, guided them, and the little car quickly carried them up the incline above the top of the dam. They paused here at the first sharp curve under the lee of the cut bank, where they might take breath and look down. There came up and grouped themselves near them and beyond them now several of the people of the camp, and practically all of the soldiers from the barracks, who fell into a stiff, silent line, looking down. It was a scene singular enough which lay before them, this wild remaking of the wilderness. There came another cosmic cry from the chaos below them, more terrifying than anything yet had been. Two Forks was throwing in the reserves. The enemy was breaking! Doctor Barnes knew what this meant. The break was widening. He stood looking down. And then he heard a human voice cry out, a voice he knew. He turned--and saw Mary Gage fall as though in a faint upon the ground. Her eye-bandages were off, her eyes wholly uncovered to the light. "Well, it's over now," said he quietly to Annie Squires. "One way or the other, it's done." He lifted her gently, attended her until at length she moved, stood--until at length he knew that she saw! She turned her face back from the ruin which had been her first vision of her new world, and looked into the eyes of the man who had given back to her eyes with which to see. And he looked deep, deep into her own, grave and unsmiling. She spoke to him at last. "I can see," said she simply. "I'm very glad," said he, trying to be as simple. But he turned her away, giving her into Annie's arms. "Look!" cried other voices.