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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Flood, by Émile Zola
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Flood
+
+Author: Émile Zola
+
+Release Date: February 22, 2003 [eBook #7011]
+[Most recently updated: April 18, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Michael Castelluccio
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLOOD ***
+
+
+
+
+The Flood
+
+by Émile Zola
+
+
+Contents
+
+ I.
+ II.
+ III.
+ IV.
+ V.
+ VI.
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+My name is Louis Roubien. I am seventy years old. I was born in the
+village of Saint-Jory, several miles up the Garonne from Toulouse.
+
+For fourteen years I battled with the earth for my daily bread. At
+last, prosperity smiled on we, and last month I was still the richest
+farmer in the parish.
+
+Our house seemed blessed, happiness reigned there. The sun was our
+brother, and I cannot recall a bad crop. We were almost a dozen on the
+farm. There was myself, still hale and hearty, leading the children to
+work; then my young brother, Pierre, an old bachelor and retired
+sergeant; then my sister, Agathe, who came to us after the death of her
+husband. She was a commanding woman, enormous and gay, whose laugh
+could be heard at the other end of the village. Then came all the
+brood: my son, Jacques; his wife, Rosie, and their three daughters,
+Aimee, Veronique, and Marie. The first named was married to Cyprica
+Bouisson, a big jolly fellow, by whom she had two children, one two
+years old and the other ten months. Veronique was just betrothed, and
+was soon to marry Gaspard Rabuteau. The third, Marie, was a real young
+lady, so white, so fair, that she looked as if born in the city.
+
+That made ten, counting everybody. I was a grandfather and a
+great-grandfather. When we were at table I had my sister, Agathe, at my
+right, and my brother, Pierre, at my left. The children formed a
+circle, seated according to age, with the heads diminishing down to the
+baby of ten months, who already ate his soup like a man. And let me
+tell you that the spoons in the plates made a clatter. The brood had
+hearty appetites. And what gayety between the mouthfuls! I was filled
+with pride and joy when the little ones held out their hands toward me,
+crying:
+
+“Grandpa, give us some bread! A big piece, grandpa!”
+
+Oh! the good days! Our farm sang from every corner. In the evening,
+Pierre invented games and related stories of his regiment. On Sunday
+Agathe made cakes for the girls. Marie knew some canticles, which she
+sang like a chorister. She looked like a saint, with her blond hair
+falling on her neck and her hands folded on her apron.
+
+I had built another story on the house when Aimee had married Cyprien;
+and I said laughingly that I would have to build another after the
+wedding of Veronique and Gaspard. We never cared to leave each other.
+We would sooner have built a city behind the farm, in our enclosure.
+When families are united, it is so good to live and die where one has
+grown up!
+
+The month of May had been magnificent that year. It was long since the
+crops gave such good promise. That day precisely, I had made a tour of
+inspection with my son, Jacques. We started at about three o’clock. Our
+meadows on the banks of the Garonne were of a tender green. The grass
+was three feet high, and an osier thicket, planted the year before, had
+sprouts a yard high. From there we went to visit our wheat and our
+vines, fields bought one by one as fortune came to us. The wheat was
+growing strong; the vines, in full flower, promised a superb vintage.
+And Jacques laughed his good laugh as he slapped me on the shoulder.
+
+“Well, father, we shall never want for bread nor for wine. You must be
+a friend of the Divine Power to have silver showered upon your land in
+this way.”
+
+We often joked among ourselves of our past poverty. Jacques was right.
+I must have gained the friendship of some saint or of God himself, for
+all the luck in the country was for us. When it hailed the hail ceased
+on the border of our fields. If the vines of our neighbors fell sick,
+ours seemed to have a wall of protection around them. And in the end I
+grew to consider it only just. Never doing harm to any one, I thought
+that happiness was my due.
+
+As we approached the house, Rose gesticulated, calling out:
+
+“Hurry up!”
+
+One of our cows had just had a calf, and everybody was excited. The
+birth of that little beast seemed one more blessing. We had been
+obliged recently to enlarge the stables, where we had nearly one
+hundred head of animals—cows and sheep, without counting the horses.
+
+“Well, a good day’s work!” I cried. “We will drink to-night a bottle of
+ripened wine.”
+
+Meanwhile, Rose took us aside and told us that Gaspard, Veronique’s
+betrothed, had come to arrange the day for the wedding. She had invited
+him to remain for dinner.
+
+Gaspard, the oldest son of a farmer of Moranges, was a big boy of
+twenty years, known throughout the country for his prodigious strength.
+During a festival at Toulouse he had vanquished Martial, the “Lion of
+the Midi.” With that, a nice boy, with a heart of gold. He was even
+timid, and he blushed when Veronique looked him squarely in the face.
+
+I told Rose to call him. He was at the bottom of the yard, helping our
+servants to spread out the freshly-washed linen. When he entered the
+dining room, where we were, Jacques turned toward me, saying:
+
+“You speak, father.”
+
+“Well,” I said, “you have come, my boy, to have us set the great day?”
+
+“Yes, that is it, Father Roubien,” he answered, very red.
+
+“You mustn’t blush, my boy,” I continued. “It will be, if you wish, on
+Saint-Felicite day, the 10th of July. This is the 23rd of June, so you
+will have only twenty days to wait. My poor dead wife was called
+Felicite, and that will bring you happiness. Well? Is it understood?”
+
+“Yes, that will do—Sainte-Felicite day. Father Roubien.”
+
+And he gave each of us a grip that made us wince. Then he embraced
+Rose, calling her mother. This big boy with the terrific fists loved
+Veronique to the point of losing his appetite.
+
+“Now,” I continued, “you must remain for dinner. Well, everybody to the
+table. I have a thundering appetite, I have.”
+
+That evening we were eleven at table. Gaspard was placed next to
+Veronique, and he sat looking at her, forgetting his plate, so moved at
+the thought of her belonging to him that, at times, the tears sprang to
+his eyes. Cyprien and Aimee, married only three years, smiled. Jacques
+and Rose, who had had twenty-five years of married life, were more
+serious, but, surreptitiously, they exchanged tender glances. As for
+me, I seemed to relive in those two sweethearts, whose happiness seemed
+to bring a corner of Paradise to our table. What good soup we had that
+evening! Aunt Agathe, always ready with a witticism, risked several
+jokes. Then that honest Pierre wanted to relate his love affair with a
+young lady of Lyons. Fortunately, we were at the dessert, and every one
+was talking at once. I had brought two bottles of mellowed wine from
+the cellar. We drank to the good fortune of Gaspard and Veronique. Then
+we had singing. Gaspard knew some love songs in dialect. We also asked
+Marie for a canticle. She stood up and sang in a flute-like voice that
+tickled one’s ears.
+
+I went to the window, and Gaspard joined me there.
+
+“Is there no news up your way?” I asked him.
+
+“No,” he answered. “There is considerable talk about the heavy rains of
+the last few days. Some seem to think that they will cause trouble.”
+
+In effect, it had rained for sixty hours without stopping. The Garonne
+was very much swollen since the preceding day, but we had confidence in
+it, and, as long as it did not overflow its banks, we could not look on
+it as a bad neighbor.
+
+“Bah!” I exclaimed, shrugging my shoulders. “Nothing will happen. It is
+the same every year. The river puts up her back as if she were furious,
+and she calms down in a night. You will see, my boy, that it will
+amount to nothing this time. See how beautiful the weather is!”
+
+And I pointed to the sky. It was seven o’clock; the sun was setting.
+The sky was blue, an immense blue sheet of profound purity, in which
+the rays of the setting sun were like a golden dust. Never had I seen
+the village drowsing in so sweet a peace. Upon the tiled roofs a rosy
+tint was fading. I heard a neighbor’s laugh, then the voices of
+children at the turn in the road in front of our place. Farther away
+and softened by the distance, rose the sounds of flocks entering their
+sheds. The great voice of the Garonne roared continually; but it was to
+me as the voice of the silence, so accustomed to it was I.
+
+Little by little the sky paled; the village became more drowsy. It was
+the evening of a beautiful day; and I thought that all our good
+fortune—the big harvests, the happy house, the betrothal of
+Veronique—came to us from above in the purity of the dying light. A
+benediction spread over us with the farewell of the evening.
+
+Meanwhile I had returned to the center of the room. The girls were
+chattering. We listened to them, smiling. Suddenly, across the serenity
+of the country, a terrible cry sounded, a cry of distress and death:
+
+“The Garonne! The Garonne!”
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+We rushed out into the yard. Saint-Jory is situated at the bottom of a
+slope at about five hundred yards from the Garonne. Screens of tall
+poplars that divide the meadows, hide the river completely.
+
+We could see nothing. And still the cry rang out:
+
+“The Garonne! The Garonne!”
+
+Suddenly, on the wide road before us, appeared two men and three women,
+one of them holding a child in her arms. It was they who were crying
+out, distracted, running with long strides. They turned at times,
+looking behind with terrified faces, as if a band of wolves was
+pursuing them.
+
+“What’s the matter with them?” demanded Cyprien. “Do you see anything,
+grandfather?”
+
+“No,” I answered. “The leaves are not even moving.”
+
+I was still talking when an exclamation burst from us. Behind the
+fugitives there appeared, between the trunks of the poplars, amongst
+the large tufts of grass, what looked like a pack of gray beasts
+speckled with yellow. They sprang up from all directions, waves
+crowding waves, a helter-skelter of masses of foaming water, shaking
+the sod with the rumbling gallop of their hordes.
+
+It was our turn to send forth the despairing cry:
+
+“The Garonne! The Garonne!”
+
+The two men and the three women were still running on the road. They
+heard the terrible gallop gaining on them. Now the waves arrived in a
+single line, rolling, tumbling with the thunder of a charging
+battalion. With their first shock they had broken three poplars; the
+tall foliage sank and disappeared. A wooden cabin was swallowed up, a
+wall was demolished; heavy carts were carried away like straws. But the
+water seemed, above all, to pursue the fugitives. At the bend in the
+road, where there was a steep slope, it fell suddenly in an immense
+sheet and cut off retreat. They continued to run, nevertheless,
+splashing through the water, no longer shouting, mad with terror. The
+water swirled about their knees. An enormous wave felled the woman who
+was carrying the child. Then all were engulfed.
+
+“Quick! Quick!” I cried. “We must get into the house. It is solid—we
+have nothing to fear.”
+
+We took refuge upstairs. The house was built on a hillock above the
+road. The water invaded the yard, softly, with a little rippling noise.
+We were not much frightened.
+
+“Bah!” said Jacques, to reassure every one, “this will not amount to
+anything. You remember, father, in ’55, the water came up into the
+yard. It was a foot deep. Then it receded.”
+
+“It is disastrous for the crops, just the same,” murmured Cyprien.
+
+“No, it will not be anything,” I said, seeing the large questioning
+eyes of our girls.
+
+Aimee had put her two children into the bed. She sat beside them, with
+Veronique and Marie. Aunt Agathe spoke of heating some wine she had
+brought up, to give us courage.
+
+Jacques and Rose were looking out of a window. I was at the other, with
+my brother Pierre, Cyprien and Gaspard.
+
+“Come up!” I cried to our two servants, who were wading in the yard.
+“Don’t stay there and get all wet.”
+
+“But the animals?” they asked. “They are afraid. They are killing each
+other in the barn.”
+
+“No, no; come up! After a while we’ll see to them.”
+
+The rescue of the animals would be impossible, if the disaster was to
+attain greater proportions. I thought it unnecessary to frighten the
+family. So I forced myself to appear hopeful. Leaning on the
+windowsill, I indicated the progress of the flood. The river, after its
+attack on the village, was in possession even to the narrowest streets.
+It was no longer a galloping charge, but a slow and invincible
+strangulation. The hollow in the bottom of which Saint-Jory is built
+was changed into a lake. In our yard the water was soon three feet
+deep. But I asserted that it remained stationary—I even went so far as
+to pretend that it was going down.
+
+“Well, you will be obliged to sleep here to-night, my boy,” I said,
+turning to Gaspard. “That is, unless the roads are free in a couple of
+hours—which is quite possible.”
+
+He looked at me without answering, his face quite pale; and I saw him
+look at Veronique with an expression of anguish.
+
+It was half-past eight o’clock. It was still daylight—a pale, sad light
+beneath the blanched sky. The servants had had the forethought to bring
+up two lamps with them. I had them lighted, thinking that they would
+brighten up the somber room. Aunt Agathe, who had rolled a table to the
+middle of the room, wished to organize a card party. The worthy woman,
+whose eyes sought mine momentarily, thought above all of diverting the
+children. Her good humor kept up a superb bravery; and she laughed to
+combat the terror that she felt growing around her. She forcibly placed
+Aimee, Veronique, and Marie at the table. She put the cards into their
+hands, took a hand herself with an air of intense interest, shuffling,
+cutting, dealing with such a flow of talk that she almost drowned the
+noise of the water. But our girls could not be diverted; they were
+pale, with feverish hands, and ears on the alert. Every few moments
+there was a pause in the play. One of them would turn to me, asking in
+a low voice:
+
+“Grandpa, is it still rising?”
+
+“No, no. Go on with the game. There is no danger.”
+
+Never had my heart been gripped by such agony. All the men placed
+themselves at the windows to hide the terrifying sight. We tried to
+smile, turned toward the peaceful lamps that threw discs of light upon
+the table. I recalled our winter evenings, when we gathered around the
+table. It was the same quiet interior, filled with the warmth of
+affection. And while peace was there I heard behind me the roaring of
+the escaped river, that was constantly rising.
+
+“Louis,” said my brother Pierre, “the water is within three feet of the
+window. We ought to tell them.”
+
+I hushed him up by pressing his arm. But it was no longer possible to
+hide the peril. In our barns the animals were killing each other. There
+were bleatings and bellowings from the crazed herds; and the horses
+gave the harsh cries that can be heard at great distances when they are
+in danger of death.
+
+“My God! My God!” cried Aimee, who stood up, pressing her hands to her
+temples.
+
+They all ran to the windows. There they remained, mute, their hair
+rising with fear. A dim light floated above the yellow sheet of water.
+The pale sky looked like a white cloth thrown over the earth. In the
+distance trailed some smoke. Everything was misty. It was the terrified
+end of a day melting into a night of death. And not a human sound,
+nothing but the roaring of that sea stretching to infinity; nothing but
+the bellowings and the neighings of the animals.
+
+“My God! My God!” repeated the women, in low voices, as if they feared
+to speak aloud.
+
+A terrible cracking silenced the exclamations. The maddened animals had
+burst open the doors of the stables. They passed in the yellow flood,
+rolled about, carried away by the current. The sheep were tossed about
+like dead leaves, whirling in bands in the eddies. The cows and the
+horses struggled, tried to walk, and lost their footing. Our big gray
+horse fought long for life. He stretched his neck, he reared, snorting
+like a forge. But the enraged waters took him by the crupper, and we
+saw him, beaten, abandon himself.
+
+Then we gave way for the first time. We felt the need of tears. Our
+hands stretched out to those dear animals that were being borne away,
+we lamented, giving vent to the tears and the sobs that we had
+suppressed. Ah! what ruin! The harvests destroyed, the cattle drowned,
+our fortunes changed in a few hours! God was not just! We had done
+nothing against Him, and He was taking everything from us! I shook my
+fist at the horizon. I spoke of our walk that afternoon, of our
+meadows, our wheat and vines that we had found so full of promise. It
+was all a lie, then! The sun lied when he sank, so sweet and calm, in
+the midst of the evening’s serenity.
+
+The water was still rising. Pierre, who was watching it, cried:
+
+“Louis, we must look out! The water is up to the window!”
+
+That warning snatched us from our spell of despair. I was once more
+myself. Shrugging my shoulders, I said:
+
+“Money is nothing. As long as we are all saved, there need be no
+regrets. We shall have to work again—that is all!”
+
+“Yes, yes; you are right, father,” said Jacques, feverishly. “And we
+run no danger—the walls are good and strong. We must get up on the
+roof.”
+
+That was the only refuge left us. The water, which had mounted the
+stairs step by step, was already coming through the door. We rushed to
+the attic in a group, holding close to each other. Cyprien had
+disappeared. I called him, and I saw him return from the next room, his
+face working with emotion. Then, as I remarked the absence of the
+servants, for whom I was waiting, he gave me a strange look, then said,
+in a suppressed voice:
+
+“Dead! The corner of the shed under their room caved in.”
+
+The poor girls must have gone to fetch their savings from their trunks.
+I told him to say nothing about it. A cold shiver had passed over me.
+It was Death entering the house.
+
+When we went up, in our turn, we did not even think of putting out the
+lights. The cards remained spread upon the table. There was already a
+foot of water in the room.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+Fortunately, the roof was vast and sloped gently. We reached it through
+a lid-like window, above which was a sort of platform. It was there
+that we took refuge. The women seated themselves. The men went over the
+tiles to reconnoitre. From my post against the dormer window through
+which we had climbed, I examined the four points of the horizon.
+
+“Help cannot fail to arrive,” I said, bravely. “The people of Saintin
+have boats; they will come this way. Look over there! Isn’t that a
+lantern on the water?”
+
+But no one answered me. Pierre had lighted his pipe, and he was smoking
+so furiously that, at each puff, he spit out pieces of the stem.
+Jacques and Cyprien looked into the distance, with drawn faces; while
+Gaspard, clenching his fists, continued to walk about, seeking an
+issue. At our feet the women, silent and shivering, hid their faces to
+shut out the sight. Yet Rose raised her head, glanced about her and
+demanded:
+
+“And the servants? Where are they? Why, aren’t they here?”
+
+I avoided answering. She then questioned me, her eyes on mine.
+
+“Where are the servants?”
+
+I turned away, unable to lie. I felt that chill that had already
+brushed me pass over our women and our dear girls. They had understood.
+Marie burst into tears. Aimee wrapped her two children in her skirt, as
+if to protect them. Veronique, her face in her hands, did not move.
+Aunt Agathe, very pale, made the sign of the cross, and mumbled
+_Paters_ and _Aves_.
+
+Meanwhile the spectacle about us became of sovereign grandeur. The
+night retained the clearness of a summer night. There was no moon, but
+the sky was sprinkled with stars, and was of so pure a blue that it
+seemed to fill space with a blue light. And the immense sheet of water
+expanded beneath the softness of the sky. We could no longer see any
+land.
+
+“The water is rising; the water is rising!” repeated my brother Pierre,
+still crunching the stem of his pipe between his teeth.
+
+The water was within a yard of the roof. It was losing its tranquility;
+currents were being formed. In less than an hour the water became
+threatening, dashing against the house, bearing drifting barrels,
+pieces of wood, clumps of weeds. In the distance there were attacks
+upon walls, and we could hear the resounding shocks. Poplar trees fell,
+houses crumbled, like a cartload of stones emptied by the roadside.
+
+Jacques, unnerved by the sobs of the women, cried:
+
+“We can’t stay here. We must try something. Father, I beg of you, try
+to do something.”
+
+I stammered after him:
+
+“Yes, yes; let us try to do something.”
+
+And we knew of nothing. Gaspard offered to take Veronique on his back
+and swim with her to a place of safety. Pierre suggested a raft.
+Cyprien finally said:
+
+“If we could only reach the church!”
+
+Above the waters the church remained standing, with its little square
+steeple. We were separated from it by seven houses. Our farmhouse, the
+first of the village, adjoined a higher building, which, in turn,
+leaned against the next. Perhaps, by way of the roofs, we would be able
+to reach the parsonage. A number of people must have taken refuge there
+already, for the neighboring roofs were vacant, and we could hear
+voices that surely came from the steeple. But what dangers must be run
+to reach them!
+
+“It is impossible,” said Pierre. “The house of the Raimbeaus is too
+high; we would need ladders.”
+
+“I am going to try it,” said Cyprien. “I will return if the way is
+impracticable. Otherwise, we will all go and we will have to carry the
+girls.”
+
+I let him go. He was right. We had to try the impossible. He had
+succeeded, by the aid of an iron hook fixed in a chimney, in climbing
+to the next house, when his wife, Aimee, raising her head, noticed that
+he was no longer with us. She screamed:
+
+“Where is he? I don’t want him to leave me! We are together, we shall
+die together!”
+
+When she saw him on the top of the house she ran over the tiles, still
+holding her children. And she called out:
+
+“Cyprien, wait for me! I am going with you. I am going to die with
+you.”
+
+She persisted. He leaned over, pleading with her, promising to come
+back, telling her that he was going for the rescue of all of us. But,
+with a wild air, she shook her head, repeating “I am going with you! I
+am going with you!”
+
+He had to take the children. Then he helped her up. We could follow
+them along the crest of the house. They walked slowly. She had taken
+the children again, and at every step he turned and supported her.
+
+“Get her to a safe place, and return!” I shouted.
+
+I saw him wave his hand, but the roaring of the water prevented my
+hearing his answer. Soon we could not see them. They had descended to
+the roof of the next house. At the end of five minutes they appeared
+upon the third roof, which must have been very steep, for they went on
+hands and knees along the summit. A sudden terror seized me. I put my
+hands to my mouth and shouted:
+
+“Come back! Come back!”
+
+Then all of us shouted together. Our voices stopped them for a moment,
+but they continued on their way. They reached the angle formed by the
+street upon which faced the Raimbeau house, a high structure, with a
+roof at least ten feet above those of the neighboring houses. For a
+moment they hesitated. Then Cyprien climbed up a chimney pipe, with the
+agility of a cat. Aimee, who must have consented to wait for him, stood
+on the tiles. We saw her plainly, black and enlarged against the pale
+sky, straining her children to her bosom. And it was then that the
+horrifying trouble began.
+
+The Raimbeau house, originally intended for a factory, was very
+flimsily built. Besides, the facade was exposed to the current in the
+street. I thought I could see it tremble from the attacks of the water;
+and, with a contraction of the throat, I watched Cyprien cross the
+roof. Suddenly a rumbling was heard. The moon rose, a round moon, whose
+yellow face lighted up the immense lake. Not a detail of the
+catastrophe was lost to us. The Raimbeau house collapsed. We gave a cry
+of terror as we saw Cyprien disappear. As the house crumbled we could
+distinguish nothing but a tempest, a swirling of waves beneath the
+debris of the roof. Then calm was restored, the surface became smooth;
+and out of the black hole of the engulfed house projected the skeleton
+of its framework. There was a mass of entangled beams, and, amongst
+them, I seemed to see a body moving, something living making superhuman
+efforts.
+
+“He lives!” I cried. “Oh, God be praised! He lives!”
+
+We laughed nervously; we clapped our hands, as if saved ourselves.
+
+“He is going to raise himself up,” said Pierre.
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Gaspard, “he is trying to seize the beam on his left.”
+
+But our laugh ceased. We had just realized the terrible situation in
+which Cyprien was placed. During the fall of the house his feet had
+been caught between two beams, and he hung head downward within a few
+inches of the water. On the roof of the next house Aimee was still
+standing, holding her two children. A convulsive tremor shook her. She
+did not take her eyes from her husband, a few yards below her. And, mad
+with horror, she emitted without cessation a lamentable sound like the
+howling of a dog.
+
+“We can’t let him die like that,” said Jacques, distracted. “We must
+get down there.”
+
+“Perhaps we could slide down the beams and save him,” remarked Pierre.
+
+And they started toward the neighboring roof, when the second house
+collapsed, leaving a gap in the route. Then a chill seized us. We
+mechanically grasped each other’s hands, wringing them cruelly as we
+watched the harrowing sight.
+
+Cyprien had tried at first to stiffen his body. With extraordinary
+strength, he had lifted himself above the water, holding his body in an
+oblique position. But the strain was too great. Nevertheless, he
+struggled, tried to reach some of the beams, felt around him for
+something to hold to. Then, resigning himself, he fell back again,
+hanging limp.
+
+Death was slow in coming. The water barely covered his hair, and it
+rose very gradually. He must have felt its coolness on his brain. A
+wave wet his brow; others closed his eyes. Slowly we saw his head
+disappear.
+
+The women, at our feet, had buried their faces in their clasped hands.
+We, ourselves, fell to our knees, our arms outstretched, weeping,
+stammering supplications.
+
+On the other roof Aimee, still standing, her children clasped to her
+bosom, howled mournfully into the night.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+I know not how long we remained in a stupor after that tragedy. When I
+came to, the water had risen. It was now on a level with the tiles. The
+roof was a narrow island, emerging from the immense sheet. To the right
+and the left the houses must have crumbled.
+
+“We are moving,” murmured Rose, who clung to the tiles.
+
+And we all experienced the effect of rolling, as if the roof had become
+detached and turned into a raft. The swift currents seemed to be
+drifting us away. Then, when we looked at the church clock, immovable
+opposite us, the dizziness ceased; we found ourselves in the same place
+in the midst of the waves.
+
+Then the water began an attack. Until then the stream had followed the
+street; but the debris that encumbered it deflected the course. And
+when a drifting object, a beam, came within reach of the current, it
+seized it and directed it against the house like a battering-ram. Soon
+ten, a dozen, beams were attacking us on all sides. The water roared.
+Our feet were spattered with foam. We heard the dull moaning of the
+house full of water. There were moments when the attacks became
+frenzied, when the beams battered fiercely; and then we thought that
+the end was near, that the walls would open and deliver us to the
+river.
+
+Gaspard had risked himself upon the edge of the roof. He had seized a
+rafter and drawn it to him.
+
+“We must defend ourselves,” he cried.
+
+Jacques, on his side, had stopped a long pole in its passage. Pierre
+helped him. I cursed my age that left me without strength, as feeble as
+a child. But the defense was organized—a drill between three men and a
+river. Gaspard, holding his beam in readiness, awaited the driftwood
+that the current sent against us, and he stopped it a short distance
+from the walls. At times the shock was so rude that he fell. Beside him
+Jacques and Pierre manipulated the long pole. During nearly an hour
+that unending fight continued. And the water retained its tranquil
+obstinacy, invincible.
+
+Then Jacques and Pierre succumbed, prostrated; while Gaspard, in a last
+violent thrust, had his beam wrested from him by the current. The
+combat was useless.
+
+Marie and Veronique had thrown themselves into each other’s arms. They
+repeated incessantly one phrase—a phrase of terror that I still hear
+ringing in my ears:
+
+“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”
+
+Rose put her arms about them. She tried to console them, to reassure
+them. And she herself, trembling, raised her face and cried out, in
+spite of herself:
+
+“I don’t want to die!”
+
+Aunt Agathe alone said nothing. She no longer prayed, no longer made
+the sign of the cross. Bewildered, her eyes roamed about, and she tried
+to smile when her glance met mine.
+
+The water was beating against the tiles now. There was no hope of help.
+We still heard the voices in the direction of the church; two lanterns
+had passed in the distance; and the silence spread over the immense
+yellow sheet. The people of Saintin, who owned boats, must have been
+surprised before us.
+
+Gaspard continued to wander over the Roof. Suddenly he called us.
+
+“Look!” he said. “Help me—hold me tight!”
+
+He had a pole and he was watching an enormous black object that was
+gently drifting toward the house. It was the roof of a shed, made of
+strong boards, and that was floating like a raft. When it was within
+reach he stopped it with the pole, and, as he felt himself being
+carried off, he called to us. We held him around the waist.
+
+Then, as the mass entered the current, it returned against our roof so
+violently that we were afraid of seeing it smashed into splinters.
+
+Gaspard jumped upon it boldly. He went over it carefully, to assure
+himself of its solidity. He laughed, saying joyously:
+
+“Grandfather, we are saved! Don’t cry any more, you women. A real boat!
+Look, my feet are dry. And it will easily carry all of us!”
+
+Still, he thought it well to make it more solid. He caught some
+floating beams and bound them to it with a rope that Pierre had brought
+up for an emergency. Gaspard even fell into the water, but at our
+screams he laughed. He knew the water well; he could swim three miles
+in the Garonne at a stretch. Getting up again, he shook himself,
+crying:
+
+“Come, get on it! Don’t lose any time!”
+
+The women were on their knees. Gaspard had to carry Veronique and Marie
+to the middle of the raft, where he made them sit down.
+
+Rose and Aunt Agathe slid down the tiles and placed themselves beside
+the young girls. At this moment I looked toward the church. Aimee was
+still in the same place. She was leaning now against a chimney, holding
+her children up at arm’s length, for the water was to her waist.
+
+“Don’t grieve, grandfather,” said Gaspard. “We will take her off on the
+way.”
+
+Pierre and Jacques were already on the raft, so I jumped on. Gaspard
+was the last one aboard. He gave us poles that he had prepared and that
+were to serve us as oars. He had a very long one that he used with
+great skill. We let him do all the commanding. At an order from him, we
+braced our poles against the tiles to put out into the stream. But it
+seemed as if the raft was attached to the roof. In spite of all our
+efforts, we could not budge it. At each new effort the current swung us
+violently against the house. And it was a dangerous manoeuvre, for the
+shock threatened to break up the planks composing the raft.
+
+So once again we were made to feel our helplessness. We had thought
+ourselves saved, and we were still at the mercy of the river. I even
+regretted that the women were not on the roof; for, every minute, I
+expected to see them precipitated into the boiling torrent. But when I
+suggested regaining our refuge they all cried:
+
+“No, no! Let us try again! Better die here!”
+
+Gaspard no longer laughed. We renewed our efforts, bending to our poles
+with redoubled energy. Pierre then had the idea to climb up on the roof
+and draw us, by means of a rope, towards the left. He was thus able to
+draw us out of the current. Then, when he again jumped upon the raft, a
+few thrusts of our poles sent us out into the open. But Gaspard
+recalled the promise he had made me to stop for our poor Aimee, whose
+plaintive moans had never ceased. For that purpose it was necessary to
+cross the street, where the terrible current existed. He consulted me
+by a glance. I was completely upset. Never had such a combat raged
+within me. We would have to expose eight lives. And yet I had not the
+strength to resist the mournful appeal.
+
+“Yes, yes,” I said to Gaspard. “We can not possibly go away without
+her!”
+
+He lowered his head without a word, and began using his pole against
+all the walls left standing. We passed the neighboring house, but as
+soon as we emerged into the street a cry escaped us. The current, which
+had again seized us, carried us back against our house. We were whirled
+round like a leaf, so rapidly that our cry was cut short by the
+smashing of the raft against the tiles. There was a rending sound, the
+planks were loosened and wrenched apart, and we were all thrown into
+the water. I do not know what happened then. I remember that when I
+sank I saw Aunt Agathe floating, sustained by her skirts, until she
+went down backward, head first, without a struggle.
+
+A sharp pain brought me to. Pierre was dragging me by the hair along
+the tiles. I lay still, stupidly watching. Pierre had plunged in again.
+And, in my confused state, I was surprised to see Gaspard at the spot
+where my brother had disappeared. The young man had Veronique in his
+arms. When he had placed her near me he again jumped in, bringing up
+Marie, her face so waxy white that I thought her dead. Then he plunged
+again. But this time he searched in vain. Pierre had joined him. They
+talked and gave each other indications that I could not hear. As they
+drew themselves up on the roof, I cried:
+
+“And Aunt Agathe? And Jacques? And Rose?”
+
+They shook their heads. Large tears coursed down their cheeks. They
+explained to me that Jacques had struck his head against a beam and
+that Rose had been carried down with her husband’s body, to which she
+clung. Aunt Agathe had not reappeared.
+
+Raising myself, I looked toward the roof, where Aimee stood. The water
+was rising constantly. Aimee was now silent. I could see her
+upstretched arms holding her children out of the water. Then they all
+sank, the water closed over them beneath the drowsy light of the moon.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+There were only five of us on the roof now. The water left us but a
+narrow band along the ridge. One of the chimneys had just been carried
+away. We had to raise Marie and Veronique, who were still unconscious,
+and support them almost in a standing position to prevent the waves
+washing over their legs. At last, their senses returned, and our
+anguish increased upon seeing them wet, shivering and crying miserably
+that they did not wish to die.
+
+The end had come. The destroyed village was marked by a few vestiges of
+walls. Alone, the church reared its steeple intact, from whence came
+the voices—a murmur of human beings in a refuge. There were no longer
+any sounds of falling houses, like a cart of stones suddenly
+discharged. It was as if we were abandoned, shipwrecked, a thousand
+miles from land.
+
+One moment we thought we heard the dip of oars. Ah! what hopeful music!
+How we all strained our eyes into space! We held our breath. But we
+could see nothing. The yellow sheet stretched away, spotted with black
+shadows. But none of those shadows—tops of trees, remnants of
+walls—moved. Driftwood, weeds, empty barrels caused us false joy. We
+waved our handkerchiefs until, realizing our error, we again succumbed
+to our anxiety.
+
+“Ah, I see it!” cried Gaspard, suddenly. “Look over there. A large
+boat!”
+
+And he pointed out a distant speck. I could see nothing, neither could
+Pierre. But Gaspard insisted it was a boat. The sound of oars became
+distinct. At last, we saw it. It was proceeding slowly and seemed to be
+circling about us without approaching. I remember that we were like
+mad. We raised our arms in our fury; we shouted with all our might. And
+we insulted the boat, called it cowardly. But, dark and silent, it
+glided away slowly. Was it really a boat? I do not know to this day.
+When it disappeared it carried our last hope.
+
+We were expecting every second to be engulfed with the house. It was
+undermined and was probably supported by one solid wall, which, in
+giving way, would pull everything with it. But what terrified me most
+was to feel the roof sway under our feet. The house would perhaps hold
+out overnight, but the tiles were sinking in, beaten and pierced by
+beams. We had taken refuge on the left side on some solid rafters. Then
+these rafters seemed to weaken. Certainly they would sink if all five
+of us remained in so small a space.
+
+For some minutes my brother Pierre had been twisting his soldierly
+mustache, frowning and muttering to himself. The growing danger that
+surrounded him and against which his courage availed nothing, was
+wearing out his endurance. He spat two or three times into the water,
+with an expression of contemptuous anger. Then, as we sank lower, he
+made up his mind; he started down the roof.
+
+“Pierre! Pierre!” I cried, fearing to comprehend.
+
+He turned and said quietly:
+
+“Adieu, Louis! You see, it is too long for me. And it will leave more
+room for you.”
+
+And, first throwing in his pipe, he plunged, adding:
+
+“Good night! I have had enough!”
+
+He did not come up. He was not a strong swimmer, and he probably
+abandoned himself, heart-broken at the death of our dear ones and at
+our ruin.
+
+Two o’clock sounded from the steeple of the church. The night would
+soon end—that horrible night already so filled with agony and tears.
+Little by little, beneath our feet, the small dry space grew smaller.
+The current had changed again. The drift, passed to the right of the
+village, floating slowly, as if the water, nearing its highest level,
+was reposing, tired and lazy.
+
+Gaspard suddenly took off his shoes and his shirt. I watched him for a
+moment as he wrung his hands. When I questioned him he said:
+
+“Listen, grandfather; it is killing me to wait. I cannot stay here. Let
+me do as I wish. I will save her.”
+
+He was speaking of Veronique. I opposed him. He would never have the
+strength to carry the young girl to the church. But he was obstinate.
+
+“Yes, I can! My arms are strong. I feel myself able. You will see. I
+love her—I will save her!”
+
+I was silent. I drew Marie to my breast. Then he thought I was
+reproaching the selfishness of his love. He stammered:
+
+“I will return and get Marie. I swear it. I will find a boat and
+organize a rescue party. Have confidence in me, grandfather!”
+
+Rapidly, he explained to Veronique that she must not struggle, that she
+must submit without a movement, and that she must not be afraid. The
+young girl answered “yes” to everything, with a distracted look. Then,
+after making the sign of the cross, he slid down the roof, holding
+Veronique by a rope that he had looped under her arms. She gave a
+scream, beat the water with arms and legs, and, suffocated, she
+fainted.
+
+“I like this better!” Gaspard called to me. “Now, I can answer for
+her!”
+
+It can be imagined with what agony I followed them with my eyes. On the
+white surface, I could see Gaspard’s slightest movement. He held the
+young girl by means of the rope that he coiled around his neck; and he
+carried her thus, half thrown over his right shoulder. The crushing
+weight bore him under at times. But he advanced, swimming with
+superhuman strength. I was no longer in doubt. He had traversed a third
+of the distance when he struck against something submerged. The shock
+was terrible. Both disappeared. Then I saw him reappear alone. The rope
+must have snapped. He plunged twice. At last, he came up with
+Veronique, whom he again took on his back. But without the rope to hold
+her, she weighed him down more than ever. Still, he advanced. A tremor
+shook me as I saw them approaching the church. Suddenly, I saw some
+beams bearing down upon them. A second shock separated them and the
+waters closed over them.
+
+From this moment, I was stupefied. I had but the instinct of the animal
+looking out for its own safety. When the water advanced, I retreated.
+In that stupor, I heard someone laughing, without explaining to myself
+who it was. The dawn appeared, a great white daybreak. It was very
+fresh and very calm, as on the bank of a pond, the surface of which
+awakens before sunrise. But the laughter sounded continually.
+
+Turning, I saw Marie, standing in her wet clothes. It was she who was
+laughing.
+
+Ah! the poor, dear child! How sweet and pretty she was at that early
+hour! I saw her stoop, take up some water in the hollow of her hand,
+and wash her face. Then she coiled her beautiful blonde hair.
+Doubtless, she imagined she was in her little room, dressing while the
+church bell rang merrily. And she continued to laugh her childish
+laugh, her eyes bright and her face happy.
+
+I, too, began to laugh, infected with her madness. Terror had destroyed
+her mind; and it was a mercy, so charmed did she appear with the beauty
+of the morning.
+
+I let her hasten, not understanding, shaking my head tenderly. When she
+considered herself ready to go, she sang one of her canticles in her
+clear crystalline voice. But, interrupting herself, she cried, as if
+responding to someone who had called her:
+
+“I am coming, I am coming!”
+
+She took up the canticle again, went down the roof, and entered the
+water. It covered her softly, without a ripple. I had not ceased
+smiling. I looked with happiness upon the spot where she had just
+disappeared.
+
+Then, I remembered nothing more. I was alone on the roof. The water had
+risen. A chimney was standing, and I must have clung to it with all my
+strength, like an animal that dreads death. Then, nothing, nothing, a
+black pit, oblivion.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+Why am I still here? They tell me that people from Saintin came toward
+six o’clock, with boats, and that they found me lying on a chimney,
+unconscious. The water was cruel not to have carried me away to be with
+those who were dear to me.
+
+All the others are gone! The babes in swaddling clothes, the girls to
+be married, the young married couples, the old married couples. And I,
+I live like a useless weed, coarse and dried, rooted in the rock. If I
+had the courage, I would say like Pierre:
+
+“I have had enough! Good night!” And I would throw myself into the
+Garonne.
+
+I have no child, my house is destroyed, my fields are devastated. Oh!
+the evenings when we were all at table, and the gaiety surrounded me
+and kept me young. Oh! the great days of harvest and vintage when we
+all worked, and when we returned to the house proud of our wealth! Oh!
+the handsome children and the fruitful vines, the beautiful girls and
+the golden grain, the joy of my old age, the living recompense of my
+entire life! Since all that is gone, why should I live?
+
+There is no consolation. I do not want help. I will give my fields to
+the village people who still have their children. They will find the
+courage to clear the land of the flotsam and cultivate it anew. When
+one has no children, a corner is large enough to die in.
+
+I had one desire, one only desire. I wished to recover the bodies of my
+family, to bury them beneath a slab, where I should soon rejoin them.
+It was said that, at Toulouse, a large number of bodies carried down
+the stream, had been taken from the water. I decided to make the trip.
+
+What a terrible disaster! Nearly two thousand houses in ruins; seven
+hundred deaths; all the bridges carried away; a whole district razed,
+buried in the mud; atrocious tragedies; twenty thousand half-clad
+wretches starving to death; the city in a pestilential condition;
+mourning everywhere; the streets filled with funeral processions;
+financial aid powerless to heal the wounds! But I walked through it all
+without seeing anything. I had my ruins, I had my dead, to crush me.
+
+I was told that many of the bodies had been buried in trenches in a
+corner of the cemetery. Only, they had had the forethought to
+photograph the unidentified. And it was among these lamentable
+photographs that I found Gaspard and Veronique. They had been clasped
+passionately in each other’s arms, exchanging in death their bridal
+kiss. It had been necessary to break their arms in order to separate
+them. But, first, they had been photographed together; and they sleep
+together beneath the sod.
+
+I have nothing but them, the image of those two handsome children;
+bloated by the water, disfigured, retaining upon their livid faces the
+heroism of their love. I look at them, and I weep.
+
+
+
+
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