"I hope so, my child, but the danger will be great; when we pass this stagnant water, we will enter the current of the overflow, and it must be as rapid as a torrent." "Well, what matters danger, my friend?" "We must know it to triumph over it, my child. Now, tell me," added David, with emotion, "do you not think that, in thus generously exposing your own life, you will more worthily expiate the dreadful deed you wished to commit, than by seeking a fruitless death in suicide?" A passionate embrace on the part of Frederick made David see that he was understood. The cart just at this moment crossed a highway in order to reach the pond in time. A gendarme, urging his horse to a galop, arrived at full speed. "Is the overflow still rising?" cried David to the soldier, making a sign to him with his hand to stop. "The water is rising all the time, sir," replied the gendarme, panting for breath; "the embankments are just broken. There is thirty feet of water in the valley--the route to Pont Brillant is cut off--the only boat that we had for salvage has just capsized with those who manned it. All have perished, and I am hurrying to the castle for more men and boats." And the soldier plunged his rowels into the horse, which was covered with foam, and galloped away. "Oh!" cried Frederick, with enthusiasm, "we will arrive before the people from the castle, will we not?" "You see, my child, envy has some good in it," said David, who penetrated the secret thought of Frederick. The cart soon arrived at the pond. André, Frederick, and David easily placed the little boat on the conveyance. At the same time David, with that foresight which never forsook him, carefully examined the oars, and the tholes which serve to keep the oars in place. "André," said he to the gardener, "have you a knife?" "Yes, M. David." "Give it to me. Now, you, Frederick, return to the house with André; hasten the speed of the horse as much as possible, for the water rises every minute, and will swallow up the poor people below." "But you, my friend?" "I see here some young branches of oak; I am going to cut them so as to repair the tholes of the boat; they are old, the green wood is stronger and more pliant. Go, go, I will join you in haste." The cart drove away; the old horse, vigorously belaboured with the whip, and smelling the house, as they say, began to trot. David chose the wood necessary for his work, soon joined the cart, which he followed on foot, as did Frederick, not willing to overburden the horse. As they walked, the preceptor gave the tholes a suitable shape; Frederick looked at him with surprise. "You think of everything," said he.