—"And away, yonder, over the reefs, can you distinguish the stone-work of the terrace?"
—"Down there? ... no ... there's only a cloud! I can see nothing.... Oh! if it be too late!... if she be there under my very eyes, and I can no longer see her!... My God, my God, once more, only once, let me see my child!"
These words, or rather these mother's cries, had been so full of sadness, that Ropars could not restrain his tears. He seated his sinking wife upon the parapet, and himself kneeled down to support her.
—"Courage, Geneviève!" he stammered out; "look well to this side ... between the line of the sea and the sky."
—"I am looking," said Geneviève, appearing in the effort to rally all the life left in her ".... Raise my head, Mathieu ... screen me from the sun...."
She checked herself with a stifled exclamation.
—"Ah! there she is! there she is!... She sees me ... she is lifting up her arms.... Francine ... my daughter ... my child!"
So impulsively did she lean forward, that but for Ropars, she would have thrown herself upon the rocks that sloped down to the sea. A flitting ray of life had lighted up her features; she sent kisses on her fingers to the child, and talked to it as though it could hear her; she raised her hands to Heaven, with rapid and broken ejaculations; she smiled and wept at once. Finally, her strength failed to endure so great emotion, and her head fell upon the quarter-master's shoulder. In alarm, he took her again in his arms, to carry her back into the house; but she made signs to him that she wished to remain out of-doors. He laid her down upon the bench, whereon the family had been used to sit together in the evening, in front of the sea, which was now lighted up by the rising sun. After a swoon that lasted some time, she opened her eyes, and asked for her daughter. Mathieu looked towards the powder magazine and said that Dorot had taken her away. She bowed her head with sorrowing resignation.
—"He has done right," she went on, in feeble accents; ... "besides, I feel ... that my sight grows thick.... I couldn't see her any more ... and ... I still have something to say to you.... Come closer, Mathieu ... closer ... my voice is failing.... Give me your hand.... I want to be sure that you hear me."
Ropars knelt upon the sand, with one hand in that of his dying wife, and the other placed behind her, to support her.