So, supposing they were of equal speed, the two craft, whose course formed a right angle, would meet at the farmhouse. But, as we have said, the canoe, although it ascended the current, being managed by six vigorous oarsmen, was considerably in advance, thanks to the accident to which the little boat had nearly fallen a victim. Frederick, seeing the marquis precede him, reached such a degree of excitement that for a given time his natural strength was raised to an irresistible power, and enabled him to accomplish wonders. One would have said that the son of Madame Bastien had communicated his feverish ardour to inanimate objects, and that the little craft trembled with impatience in its entire frame, while the oars seemed to receive not only motion, but life, with such precision and harmony did they obey Frederick's every movement. David himself, surprised at this incredible energy, continued to watch in front of the little boat, casting a radiant look on his pupil, whose heroic emulation he understood so well. Suddenly Frederick uttered an exclamation of profound joy. The little boat was only twenty-five steps from the farmhouse, while the yawl was still distant about a hundred steps. Suddenly, prolonged cries of distress, accompanied by a terrible crash, rose above the sound of the roaring waters. One of the gable ends of the farmhouse, undermined by the force of the current, fell down with a loud noise, and a part of the roof was giving way at the same time. Then the family grouped around the chimney had no other support for their feet than some fragments of carpentry, the slow oscillations of which predicted their speedy fall. In a few minutes, the gable end where the chimney was built, in its turn, sank into the abyss. The unfortunate sufferers presented a heartrending picture, worthy of the painter of the Deluge. The father standing half clothed, livid, his lips blue, his eye haggard, holding on to the tottering chimney with his left hand; two of the eldest children, locked in each other's arms, he bore upon his shoulders; around his right wrist was wrapped a rope, which he had been able to fasten to the opposite side of the chimney; by means of this rope, which girded the loins of his wife, he supported her, and prevented her fall into the water; for the poor woman, paralysed by cold, fatigue, and terror, had lost almost all consciousness; maternal instinct enabled her to press her nursing infant in her rigid arms to her bosom, and, in her desperation, the better to hold it, she had caught between her teeth the woollen skirt of the child's dress, to which she clung with the tenacity of a convulsion. The agony of these wretched beings had already lasted five hours. Overcome by terror, they seemed no longer to see or to hear. When David, arriving within the range of the voice, called out to them, "Try to seize the rope that I throw to you!" there was no response. Those whom he had come to save seemed absolutely petrified.