Father Honoré, watching for the children's reappearance at the corner of the road just beyond the long low power-house, was suddenly aware, with a curious shock, of the two little boys trotting in a lively manner down the easy grade of the "cross cut" slope, and nearing the derrick and its suspended weight. He frowned at the sight and, calling loudly to them to come back, started straight down over the steep ledge at the side of the road. He heard some one else calling the boys by name, and, a moment later, saw that it was Sister Ste. Croix who was coming up the hill.
The children did not hear, or would not, because of their absorption in getting close to the steel giant towering above them. Sister Ste. Croix called again; then she, too, started down the slope after them.
She noticed some men running from the farther side of the quarry. She saw Father Honoré suddenly spring by leaps and bounds down over the rough ledge. What was it? The children were apparently in no danger. She looked up at the derrick—
What was that! A tremor in its giant frame; a swaying of its cabled mast; a sickening downward motion of the weighted steel arm—then—
"Merciful Christ!" she groaned, and for the space of a few seconds covered her eyes....
The priest, catching up the two children one under each arm, ran with superhuman strength to evade the falling derrick—with a last supreme effort he rolled the boys beyond its reach; they were saved, but—
Their savior was pinioned by the steel tip fast to the unyielding granite.
A woman's shriek rent the air—a fearful cry:
"Jean—mon Jean!"
A moment more and Sister Ste. Croix reached the spot—she took his head on her lap.