Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-09-03
Catharine MERCER.
TALE OF THE INuNDArIoN OF FRANCE.
CONCLUDED.

A CONCLUDED.
! We all know how bitter it is when we retur
after long absence, full of anticipation of on
:, hrst meeting with those we love, to find oui
L selves wakened from our pleasant dreams b
e some cold and disappointing reality. Often on
hearts are too full too utter the many tende
speeches we have, as itwere, been coming over
y ana often those we meet, perhaps from the sam
} | cause, do not at first welcome us SO warmly Il
l. our yearning love has expected, and thus thes
meetings. are generally sad ones.
20 poor Victor felt, as he left La Petite Cali
$ tornie and struck towards home If he had no
j., heard the reports about NJ. Lubin, tits proba
bic he would not have needed Catharine's cold
ness ; but the slight suspicion which his CONVEX
sation with his mother aroused had ranked il
i his mind. and thus he had been too watchful
+ too ripe to take offence, which had made hi
manner cold and constrained. But he was to-
much hurt to examine how far he was himsel
to blame, so he dashed on, regardless of ever,
e thing but his own bitter thoughts Had h
been less engrossed, he would have observed
much around him to raise alarm.
Already had the Rhone risen several feet since
z he had crossed it caller in the evening, and
5 when he re-entered Lyons, the streets were un
usually thronged with people, some transporting
furniture and goods from the lower parts of the
town, which were flooded, others collecting il
shivering groups under arches any projecting
caves which afforded shelter against the pitile
rain, which was again pouring down. In some
streets near the Saone, Victor splashed in water
up to his knees, but even this failed to arouse
/; his attention.
/ Ascending the steep hill, he reached home
drenched to the skin, and his mother at once
perceived that he had been wounded instead Of
pleased by his visit, But, avoiding any painful
questions, she only tried by every loving atten-
d ton, to soothc and comfort him. She persua-
deG him to go to bed, and made him some hot
20 Il h., In1 1ro, - Il e
to the sleep he so greatly required He had
been so anxious to reach home that he had not
slept for three nights, and was completely ex.
hausted. Even his restless misery could not
keep him awake for, after tossing about for
a short time, tired nature asserted her claim
and stepped his senses in blessed forgetful-
ness.
lie was awakened ere it was light the next
morning by his mother, who was obliged to
shake him by the shoulder to rouse him from
! his heavy sleep.
why. mother" said he, rubbing his eyes
"what on earth do you want me TO get up for?
it is not light yet l thou ght was to S sep till
noon"
| " Ny son. the foods are out--the Rhone has
risen fearfully, and is still rising they say La
| Petite California little California; is under wa
! ter to the second story. Pierre MERCER who
came across last night with NJ Lubin, TO be
| ready for some orders in the morning, at
| tempting to return home, when piece of tim
Der fell upon him and broke his leg. They ear
red him to his sisters house near here and he
sent this note TO YOU
| Victor had jumped up and was putting on his
clothes; he took the crumpled piece Of paper
and read the following note
my brave frend-I.a Petite California is
| flooded ! am disabled. Save my daughter, if
| it is not even now too late.
PIERRE MERCER"
1t took bat few minutes to equip the ready
! soldier: his mother made him take some food
| to eat rs he went along
q You will need all your strength" said she,
"and you must eat for my sake"
| He knelt down for an instant as he used to
do when little boy
| "Bless me, my mother ere go forth"
| She laid her hand upon his head, and, with
choked voice said
" God preserve you, my own beloved sen. -
| He arose, took her in his arms, gave her one
| long, long. loving embrace-feeling it might be
| his last-and then he sped away upon his peril
Gus enterprise.
| Descending the Hill Of Fourvicres, Victor saw
| in the faint light terrible panorama Of destruc
| ton before him. Both rivers were rushing mad
| ~ along, studded with spoiIs of their expanded
and resistless waters The Rhone especially, he
| observed, was dotted over with the objects which
were Icing carried away; and fearing lest, m
| deed, he was too late, be dashed reck essy on.
| In his Passage through the city, he had nearer
and stronger evidence of the enormous extent
OF the foundations. Though he chose the high
er parts, as less likely to impede his headlong
career, he had ever and anon gimpses of streets
in which the water was rushing like river,
| where whole houses were crumbung down;
where the roofs were crowded with refugees
from the rising floods where boats were passing
to and fro, and hastily constructed RATS laden
with women and children Just rescued, some
Low Al,o., ,ln DoTy
to some place of shelter In his path were
groups who had been lamded-children wailing
and calling in heart-reuding accents for their
| parents mothers rushing wildly about, seeking
| for their lost children and refusing to be com
| tortcd. Others were sitting down in hopeless
despair, having seen those they loved best crush
ed in some quick ruin, or carried away by the
raging waters
Victor sickencd at the sight OF so much misery
and dashed across the nearest bridge. On the
other side he seized a small boat, and getting
soldier to help him, they transported it through
some streets which were protected by Gan en-
! bankment aud then launched it on the flood
Victor found that the rapid cur ent was inhis
favor; he stood in the Prov, guiding the boat
with pole, and guarding it from the various
| obstacles which were floating about, y turn
or two more would bring them in sight Of Cath
arines dwelling, but Il cross current met hin,
and lie had q serious struggle to prevent its car
| INluT MN away out ny Il shoHS c4C4t, nc
/ turned the boat round the right corner, and
| them Q heavens how fearful the scene that
| burst upon his sight
| The water which was bearing him on was up
/ to the third story, and rapidly rising but there
was a greater danger attending CatharIno than
! the angry flood, The two first houses on the
! left hand side Of the street. sappCd from their
foundations, had fallen in one great crash, While
/ the next being the enc in which the Nerciers
dlyclt was sWaylnr to and fro with every i'm
pulse Of the fierce tide and seemed as if in one
! instant it would follow its companions.
/ Victor saw all this though still at & consider
/ able distance, and also observed that Catharine
was at the window Just above the water, alone,
/ and clasging her hands as for aid
/ With desperate strokes he sent his boat for
ward, reckless of the broken boards, pieces Of
! furniture, and animals which were thIonging in
! his course As he neared the place Of danger,
/ he came upon a side street, which rose above
/ the water and ON which were assembled con-
siderable number of people watching the falling
house.
| There were boats moored near, in which they
| mad brought off the rest of the inhabitants; bat
! Catharine had been aroused too late, and did
not come to the window till they had steered
1 off. Just afterwari the other houses fell, and
now no one would come TO rescue the helpless
/ girl. Amidst the group was VI. Lub.n on
horseback, vainly urging the baotmen to make
| the attempt.
! Ten thousand francs to any one who viii
/ save Catharine MERCER cried he.
/ There was not a movement, and sad looks OF
( the boatmen betokened how desperate the case
was
! Twenty thousand-forty thousand shall it
| be cried he.
Stin no one stirred-life was dearer to them
! than money.
/ Young man. roared the frantic merchant, as
Y ctor's boat shot past, half Of my fortune shall
you have If you save that girl .
i Beware = cried an old sailor; 1t viii be Ger