"Heaven, they are lost!" said Marie, quickly.
"The water has reached half-way up the roof of the house," said David. "They are on the roof clinging to the chimney. I see a man, a woman, and three children."
"My God!" cried Marie with clasped hands, falling on her knees with her eyes raised to heaven, "My God, help them, have pity on them!"
"And no means of saving them!" cried Frederick; "we can only groan over such a disaster."
"Poor Jean François, a good man," said André".
"To see his three little children die with him," sobbed Marguerite.
David, calm, grave, and silent, as was his habit in the hour of danger, struck his field-glass convulsively in the palm of his hand, and seemed to be lost in thought; all eyes were turned to him. Suddenly his brow cleared, and with that authority of accent and promptness of decision which distinguish the man made to command, he said to Marie:
"Madame, permit me to give orders here, the moments are precious."
"They will obey you as they obey me, M. David."
"André," called the preceptor, "get the cart and horse at once."