Alas! David did not keep this illusion long; a sudden blast of wind which blew violently along the current of the river brought almost to David's feet, as it rolled and tossed it upon the sand, a cap of blue cloth bound with a little Scotch border, which Frederick had worn that morning. "Unhappy child!" exclaimed David, his eyes full of tears, "and his mother, his mother! oh, this is terrible!" Suddenly he heard, above the roar of the waters, and brought by the wind, a long cry of distress. Remounting at once the bank opposite the wind which brought this cry to his ears, David ran with all his might in the direction of the call. Suddenly he stopped. These words, uttered with a heartrending cry, reached his ear: "My mother! oh, my mother!" A hundred steps before him, David perceived, almost at the same time, in the middle of the surging waters, the head of Frederick, livid! frightful! his long hair matted on his temples, his eyes horribly dilated, while his arms, in a last struggle, moved convulsively above the abyss. Then the preceptor saw no more, save a wider, deeper bubbling in the spot where he had discovered the body. A light of hope, nevertheless, illumined David's manly face, but feeling the imminence of the peril and the danger of a blind precipitation,--for he had need of all his skill and all his strength, and, too, of all possible freedom from restraint,--he had the self-possession, after having thrown off his coat and vest, to take off his cravat, his stockings, and even his suspenders. All this was executed with a sort of deliberate quickness which permitted David, while he was removing his garments, to follow with an attentive eye the current of the river, and coolly to calculate how far Frederick would be carried by the current. He calculated correctly. He saw soon, at a little distance, and toward the middle of the river, Frederick's long hair lifted by the waves, and the skirt of his hunting jacket floating on the water. Then all disappeared again. The moment had come. Then David with a firm and sure gaze measured the distance, threw himself in the stream, and began to swim straight to the opposite shore, estimating, and with reason, that in cutting the breadth of the river, keeping count of the drift, he ought to reach the middle of the Loire a little before the current would carry Frederick's body there. David's foresight made no mistake; he had already gained the middle of the stream when he saw at his left, drifting between two waves, the body of Madame Bastien's son, entirely unconscious. Seizing Frederick's long hair with one hand, he began to swim with the other hand, and reached the shore by means of the most heroic efforts, tortured every moment with the thought that perhaps, after all, he had rescued only a corpse. At last he trod upon the shore. Robust and agile, he took the young man in his arms and laid him on the turf, about a hundred steps from the spot where he had left his garments.