"Don't stir; the raft is nearly finished; there is no danger where you are."
Such was the master's ascendancy that they became calm, and Emile himself instinctively yielded to it.
On the other side of the island there was a far more desolating spectacle. The villagers were running after their cattle, the women after their children. Piercing shrieks directed Emile's attention more particularly toward a point which the vegetation concealed from his eyes; but he soon saw a powerful man near the opposite bank, swimming and carrying a child. The current was less strong on that side than it was at the factory, and yet the swimmer seemed to be making his way through the water with extraordinary difficulty, and several times the water covered him completely.
"I will go and help him!" cried Emile, moved even to tears, and preparing once more to jump from the tree.
"No, monsieur, no!" cried Charasson, holding him back. "See, he's out of the current now, he's safe; he isn't swimming now, he's walking in the mud. Poor man! what a hard time he had. But the child isn't dead, he's crying and yelling like a little devil. Poor little fellow! don't cry any more, you're safe! But look, will you! may the devil fly away with me if it wasn't old Jean who pulled him out of the water! Yes, monsieur, yes, it's Jean. He's a brave fellow, I tell you! Ah! see how the father thanks him, how the mother hugs his legs, and yet they're not very clean, those poor legs of his! Ah! monsieur, Jean has a big heart, and there's not his like in the world. If he knew we were here, he'd come and help us out of the scrape. I have a mind to call him."
"Do nothing of the kind. We are safe and he would risk his life again. Yes, I see that he's a fine fellow. Is he any relative to the child and to those people."
"No, monsieur, no. They are the Michauds, and they're nothing to him or to me either; but when anything goes wrong anywhere, Jean is sure to turn up, and where no one else would dare to take the risk, he'll go ahead, even when there's nothing at all, not even a glass of wine to be made by it. But the good Lord knows that this country isn't healthy for Jean, and that this is hardly the place for him."
"Why, is he exposed to any other danger at Gargilesse than that of being drowned like everybody else?"
Sylvain did not reply, and seemed to blame himself for having said too much.
"The water is falling a little," he said, to divert Emile's attention; "in a couple of hours, perhaps we can go back the way we came; but it will be six hours at least before we can cross over to Monsieur Cardonnet's."