To this dangerous sleep David yielded, nevertheless, as the emotions and fatigues of the day had been very exhausting. The day was just breaking. David started out of sleep, as he heard several violent knocks at his door, and recognised the voice of Frederick, who said: "My friend, open, open your door, please!" CHAPTER XXVIII. David hastened to put on his clothes and opened the door. He saw Frederick, his face pale and distorted with fright. "My child, what is the matter?" "Ah, my friend, what a misfortune!" "A misfortune?" "The Loire--" "Well?" "The inundation we were speaking of yesterday at the brickmaker's--" "An overflow,--that is frightful! What a disaster, my God, what a disaster!" "Come, come, my friend, you can no longer see the valley at the edge of the forest; it is all a lake of water!" David and Frederick descended precipitately, and found Madame Bastien in the library. She also had risen in haste. Marguerite and the gardener were groaning in terror. "The water is gaining on us." "The house will be swept away," they cried. "And the poor farmers in the valley," said Madame Bastien, her eyes filled with tears. "Their houses, so isolated, are perhaps already submerged, and the miserable people in them, surprised in the night by the overflow, cannot get away." "Then, madame," said David, "we must at once go to the rescue of the valley people. Here there is no danger." "But the water is already within a mile and a half, M. David," cried old Marguerite. "And it continues to rise," added André. "Be calm, madame," answered David. "I have, since my stay here, gone through the country enough to be certain that the overflow will never reach this house,--the level of the land is too high. You can set your mind at rest." "But the farmhouses in the valley," cried Frederick. "The overflow has had time to reach the house of Jean François, the farmer, a good, excellent man," cried Marie. "His wife, his children are lost." "Where is this farmhouse, madame?" asked David. "More than a mile from here in the flats. You can see it from the edge of the forest which overlooks the fields. Alas! you can see it if the overflow has not swept it away." "Come, madame, come," said David, "we must run to find out where it is." In an instant, Frederick, his mother, and David followed by the gardner and Marguerite arrived at the edge of the forest, a spot much higher than the valley. What a spectacle! As far as the eye could reach in the north and the east, one saw only an immense sheet of yellow, muddy water, cut at the horizon by a sky overcast with dark clouds rapidly hurried along by a freezing wind. At the west the forest of Pont Brillant was half submerged, while the tops of a few poplars on the plain could be discerned here and there in the middle of a motionless and limitless sea. This devastation, slow and silent as the tomb, was even more terrible than the brilliant ravages of a conflagration.