She loved Colonel Menard--and he was gone.
"Turn over the boat!" screamed Angelique. "He is caught in the cellars
of this old house,--the floors are broken. We must find him. He will
never come up."
The men, ready to do anything which was suggested to their slow minds,
made haste to creep along the weakened flooring, which shook as they
moved, and to push the boat from its lodgment. The oars were fast in the
rowlocks, and stuck against beams or stones, and made hard work of
getting the boat righted.
"Why does he not come up? Does any one stay under water as long as this?
Oh, be quick! Turn it,--turn it over!" Angelique reached down with the
men to grasp the slippery boat, her vivid will giving their clumsiness
direction and force. They got it free and turned it, dipping a little
water as they did so; but she let herself into its wet hollow and bailed
that out with her hands. The two dropped directly after her, and with
one push of the oars sent the boat over the spot where Colonel Menard
had gone down.
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