Before the sabbath dawned, that which they dreaded came; it rained, a steady downpour for many hours, then a deluge. The ice on the river had had no time to melt, and the floods from the slopes above poured over it without breaking it up. Helplessly the people watched the torrent swell and spread. Nearly every one had moved what he could to higher land, each one striving for himself. Night came on, dark and dreadful. There was no sleep even on the hillsides. The sound of the waters had been deep and threatening, but suddenly in the darkness they burst forth in a roaring crash. Something had happened in the lake above. Thank God, every one had had time to escape danger. Now thoughts turned to fellow creatures and their safety. Yes, all seemed to be safe. But where was Diâne and the child? In the curé’s house, of course. No? God in heaven! Was she down there by the river? “Men to the rescue!” shouted the curé. In a moment he had hurried to the bell rope, and for the first time the Bell of St. Gregoire rang out clear and strong, even before the roar of the storm and the battle of the waters. At dusk Diâne had looked at the river almost touching her threshold; but the high land lay back of her; she would not be cut off without warning. She dressed the child warmly before he went to sleep, placed their outer garments in readiness, piled the logs on the hearth and sat down to wait. Suddenly the house shook and the water poured in at every opening. She sprang to the bed, and in an instant they were ready. But, oh, the awful darkness! The house seemed to be moving from its place. The water was rising quickly. She stood dazed. What should she do? The loft! Quickly she mounted the ladder and broke open the window. She leaned far out--nothing could be seen. She could feel the house moving away on the flood. What was that? The bell! She smiled and laid her face close to the child. Softly she whispered: “Ah, baby, baby! Mother was right after all. Listen to the bell. I said that when it should ring for the first time he would not be far away, and in a moment we shall be with him. Don’t be afraid, dearie. He will be waiting for us, and, at last, after all this long, long time, we shall be together all the days, as he used to tell me, and we shall have you besides. Perhaps he can see us now coming nearer.” * * * * * She laughed a happy little laugh, the first since she had come back to St. Gregoire. The child was quiet, soothed by the gentle crooning as she murmured on. “Diâne! Diâne! Shout! Call to me! I am here,” came faintly to her ears over the waters out of the darkness. “Listen, listen, my little one. He is calling to us. Blessed Virgin, I thank thee.” Then loud and clear: “Here! Here am I, your Diâne.” Again came the cry, louder and nearer. “Call again, Diâne! Be brave!” Again she called. “We are nearer, nearer,” she whispered. “Soon it will be light, the great, beautiful Dawn!”