Out of the Depths.
There was no sign of life as with difficulty they dragged him out of the water. His hands were tied together by a handkerchief, drawn to a knot, as Jacques guessed, by his teeth. His saturated clothes were pulling him down, and it was the catch of his sleeve in a protruding stake which had held him for a few minutes, and shown him to his wife’s searching eyes. In the river she had fancied he moved, mistaking the movements with which it mocked its plaything for life, but on the grass he lay motionless. Still she kept her presence of mind, and gave directions, telling the gardener to run to the nearest house across the bridge for help. It was nearer than the château.
“I know what to do,” she said, kneeling down. “I have done it before.”
“But alone, madame?”
“Go, go, and bring blankets with you.”
He went reluctantly, running along the bank without any hope in his heart. “First his father, and now Monsieur Léon,” he reflected. “Poor madame, it will be the death of her! And what lies behind? I must make it out to have been an accident, if it comes to breaking down a rail of the bridge.” Help was not at first to be found, and it was old Antoine who at last started at a run for the spot, while Jacques got blankets at another cottage. When he reached the spot again, Mme. Léon was so stiff and numbed that she could scarcely move her husband’s arms up and down, and she made him a sign to watch her and take her place.
“Ah, madame!” said the gardener, sorrowfully.
She did not hear him. She was bending over the motionless body, laying her hand on his chest, listening. Old Antoine was reflecting that she had certainly gone mad, and that if monsieur le baron was not drowned beyond hope of recovery, there would be more sense in rubbing him with blankets, and pouring brandy down his throat, when suddenly Nathalie lifted her head. “Keep on, keep on!” she cried to the gardener, “I am sure that he breathes!”
Twenty minutes later Claire, wretchedly flitting across the terrace, cried out with terror at seeing a figure swathed in blankets carried towards the house. A woman ran in front, drenched, ghastly, who cried out as she came near:
“He is alive! Get his bed and hot things ready!”