Gerard saw this, and it awakened his manhood.
“See! see!” he said, “they have ta'en the boat and left the poor woman and her child to perish.”
His heart soon set his wit working.
“Wife, I'll save thee yet, please God.” And he ran to find a cask or a plank to float her. There was none.
Then his eye fell on the wooden image of the Virgin. He caught it up in his arms, and heedless of a wail that issued from its worshipper like a child robbed of its toy, ran aft with it. “Come, wife,” he cried. “I'll lash thee and the child to this. 'Tis sore worm eaten, but 'twill serve.”
She turned her great dark eye on him and said a single word:
“Thyself?!”
But with wonderful magnanimity and tenderness.
“I am a man, and have no child to take care of.”
“Ah!” said she, and his words seemed to animate her face with a desire to live. He lashed the image to her side. Then with the hope of life she lost something of her heroic calm; not much: her body trembled a little, but not her eye.