For a moment the spectators of this awful disaster stood still in mute astonishment. David, the first to recover from this unavailing grief, said to Madame Bastien: "Madame, I will return in a moment." Some minutes after he ran back, bringing an excellent field-glass that had served him in many a voyage. "The fog on the water prevents my distinguishing objects at a great distance, madame," said David to Marie. "In what direction is the farmhouse you spoke of just now?" "In the direction of those poplars down there on the left, M. David." The preceptor directed his field-glass toward the point designated, carefully observing the scene for some minutes, then he cried: "Ah! the unfortunate creatures!" "Heaven, they are lost!" said Marie, quickly. "The water has reached half-way up the roof of the house," said David. "They are on the roof clinging to the chimney. I see a man, a woman, and three children." "My God!" cried Marie with clasped hands, falling on her knees with her eyes raised to heaven, "My God, help them, have pity on them!" "And no means of saving them!" cried Frederick; "we can only groan over such a disaster." "Poor Jean François, a good man," said André". "To see his three little children die with him," sobbed Marguerite. David, calm, grave, and silent, as was his habit in the hour of danger, struck his field-glass convulsively in the palm of his hand, and seemed to be lost in thought; all eyes were turned to him. Suddenly his brow cleared, and with that authority of accent and promptness of decision which distinguish the man made to command, he said to Marie: "Madame, permit me to give orders here, the moments are precious." "They will obey you as they obey me, M. David." "André," called the preceptor, "get the cart and horse at once." "Yes, M. David." "On the pond not far from the house, I have seen a little boat; is it there still?" "Yes, M. David." "Is it light enough to be carried on the cart?" "Certainly, M. David." "Frederick and I will assist you in placing it there. Run and hitch up; we will join you." André hurried to the stable. "Now, madame," said David to Marie, "please have prepared immediately some bottles of wine and two or three coverings. We will carry them in the boat; for these poor people, if we succeed in saving them, will be dying of cold and want. Have some beds and a fire made ready, too, that every care can be given to them when we arrive. Now, Frederick, we will assist André, and go as quickly as possible to the pond." While David hastily disappeared with Frederick, Madame Bastien and Marguerite eagerly executed David's orders. The horse, promptly hitched to the cart, took David and Frederick to the pond. "My friend," said the young man to his preceptor, his eyes glowing with ardour and impatience, "we will save these unfortunate people, will we not?"