ho can say where the water will stop?"

"On that account, madame, I came out with the boat as soon as I could.
But we shall be stove in here. Monsieur the captain, can you let the
family down the roof to me?"

Captain Saucier thought he could, and he saw it would have to be done
quickly. By dim lantern light the Saucier children were hurried into
their clothing, and Wachique brought a wrap of fur and wool for
tante-gra'mere. Three of the slave men were called in, and they rigged a
rope around their master's waist, by which they could hold and guide him
in his attempt to carry living freight down the slippery roof.

"How many can you carry?" he inquired.

"Six at a time," answered Colonel Menard. "To try to do more would
hardly be safe, in this rough water."

"Were the boats at the wharf swept away?"

"It is not now easy to tell where the wharf was. But some of the large
craft seem wedged among trees along the bluff. By daylight we shall get
some out. And I have sent to the governor for all the boats he can
muster for us."

Angelique came to the dormer window and touched her father's shoulder.

"Are you all ready?" he asked.

"Tante-gra'mere will not go into the boat."

"But she must. There will be six of you, with Peggy; and Colonel Menard
cannot much longer hang by the eaves."

"Perhaps if you pick her up and run with her, papa, as you did from the
danger below, she may allow it."

"She must go into the boat directly," said Captain Saucier; and the
negroes paid out the rope as he stalked to the screened corner.

Angelique leaned over the sill and the chill wilderness of waters. The
wind sung in her ears. She could not distinctly see Colonel Menard, and
there was such a sound of waves that she was not sure it was best to try
her voice against them. His man had an oar thrust into the broken window
below, and was thereby able to hold the boat against the current.

"Monsieur the colonel!" called Angelique; and she saw the swift removal
of his hat.

"Mademoiselle, have you been alarmed?"

"Yes, monsieur. Even my father was unable to do anything for the family
until you came. But it seems when we find one relief we get another
anxiety with it."

"What other anxiety have you now?"

"I am afraid you will be drowned trying to carry us out."

"My bel-o-ved, would you care?" said Pierre Menard, speaking English,
which his slave could not understand, and accenting on the first
syllable the name he gave her.