on
that ocean covered with wrecks. Toward the left rose a little hill,
completely surrounded by water, looking like an island in the midst of
the sea. Henri took the oars and rowed toward it, while Remy, with the
boat-hook, occupied himself in keeping off the beams and wrecks which
might have struck against them. Thanks to Henri's strength and Remy's
skill, they reached, or, rather, were thrown against, the hill. Remy
jumped out, and, seizing the chain, drew the boat toward him; Diana,
rising alone, followed him, and then Henri, who drew up the boat and
seated himself a little way from them. They were saved from the most
menacing danger, for the inundation, however strong, could never reach
to the summit of the hill. Below them they could see that great angry
waste of waters, which seemed inferior in power only to God himself;
and, by the increasing light, they perceived that it was covered with
the corpses of French soldiers.

Remy had a wound in his shoulder, where a floating beam had struck
against him; but Diana, thanks to Henri's protection, was free from all
injury, although she was cold and wet. At last they noticed in the
horizon, on the eastern side, something like fires burning on a height
which the water could not reach. As well as they could judge, they were
about a league off. Remy advanced to the point of the hill, and said
that he believed he saw a jetty advancing in a direct line toward the
fires. But they could see nothing clearly, and knew not well where they
were, for though day was dawning, it came cloudily and full of fog; had
it been clear and under a pure sky, they might have seen the town of
Mechlin, from which they were not more than two leagues distant.

"Well, M. le Comte," said Remy, "what do you think of those fires?"

"Those fires, which seem to you to announce a hospitable shelter, appear
to me to be full of danger."

"And why so?"

"Remy," said Henri, lowering his voice, "look at these corpses; they are
all French--there is not one Fleming; they announce to us a great
disaster. The dykes have been broken to finish the destruction of the
French army, if it has been conquered--to nullify the victory, if they
have been victors. Those fires are as likely to have been lighted by
enemies as by friends, and may be simply a ruse to draw fugitives to
destruction."

"Nevertheless, we cannot stay here; my mistress will die of cold and
hunger."

"You are right, Remy; remain here with madame