a loud roar, alone arose in the silence and spread
through the obscurity.

We had dismissed the workpeople, keeping only our old woman-servant,
Marguerite, with us. When I raised my head and listened, it seemed to me
that the farmhouse hung suspended in the middle of a chasm. No human sound
came from the outside. I heard naught but the riot of the abyss. Then I
gazed at my wife and children, and experienced the cowardice of those old
people who feel themselves too weak to protect those surrounding them
against unknown peril.

The noise became harsher, and it seemed to us that there was a knocking at
the door. At the same instant, the horses in the stable began to neigh
furiously, whilst the cattle lowed as if choking. We had all risen, pale
with anxiety, Jacques dashed to the door and threw it wide open.

A wave of muddy water burst into the room.

The Durance was overflowing. It was it that had been making the noise,
that had been increasing in the distance since morning. The snow melting
on the mountains had transformed each hillside into a torrent which had
swelled the river. The curtain of fog had hidden from us this sudden rise
of water.

It had often advanced thus to the gates of the farm, when the thaw came
after severe winters. But the flood had never increased so rapidly. We
could see through the open door that the courtyard was transformed into a
lake. The water already reached our ankles.

Babet had caught up little Marie, who was crying and clasping her doll to
her. Jacques wanted to run and open the doors of the stables and
cowhouses; but his mother held him back by his clothes, begging him not to
go out. The water continued rising. I pushed Babet towards the staircase.

"Quick, quick, let us go up into the bedrooms," I cried.

And I obliged Jacques to pass before me. I left the ground-floor the last.

Marguerite came down in terror from the loft where she happened to find
herself. I made her sit down at the end of the room beside Babet, who
remained silent, pale, and with beseeching eyes. We put little Marie into
bed; she had insisted on keeping her doll, and went quietly to sleep
pressing it in her arms. This child's sleep relieved me; when I turned
round and saw Babet, listening to the little girl's regular breathing, I
forgot the danger, all I heard was the water beating against the walls.

But Jacques and I could not help looking the peril in the face. Anxiety
made us endeavour to discover t