God and the Blessed Virgin protect them!" He looked at
the little delf image, and crossed himself; the others imitated
him, except the old man. He still tossed his hands over the
coverlet, and still repeated, "Drowned! drowned!"
"Oh, that accursed _Soule!_" groaned the young man. "But for this
wound I should have been with my father. The poor boy's life
might at least have been saved; for we should then have left him
here."
"Silence!" exclaimed the harsh voice from the bed. "The wail of
dying men rises louder than the loud sea; the devil's
psalm-singing roars higher than the roaring wind! Be silent, and
listen! Francois drowned! Pierre drowned! Hark! Hark!"
A terrific blast of wind burst over the house as he spoke,
shaking it to its center, overpowering all other sounds, even to
the deafening crash of the waves. The slumbering child awoke, and
uttered a scream of fear. Perrine, who had been kneeling before
her lover binding the fresh bandages on his wounded arm, paused
in her occupation, trembling from head to foot. Gabriel looked
toward the window; his experience told him what must be the
hurricane fury of that blast of wind out at sea, and he sighed
bitterly as he murmured to himself, "God help them both--man's
help will be as nothing to them now!"
"Gabriel!" cried the voice from the bed in altered tones--very
faint and trembling.
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