“Do you know, friends, to whom I feel like consecrating our last meal in Beaucaire?  To the patriots of the Rhodanian shores, to the dauntless men who, in olden days, maintained themselves in the strong castle that stands before our eyes, to the dwellers along the riverbanks who defended so valiantly their customs, their free trade, and their great free Rhone.  If the sons of those forefathers who fell bravely in the strife, to-day have forgotten their glory, well, so much the worse for the sons!  But you, my mates, you who have preserved the call, Empire! and who, like the brave men you are, will soon go and defend the Rhone in its very life, fighting your last battle with me, a stranger, but enraptured and intoxicated with the light of your Rhone, come, raise your glasses to the cause of the vanquished!”

The love scenes between the Prince and the Anglore continue during the journey up the river.  Her devotion to him is complete; she knows not whither she goes, if to perish, then let it be with him.  In a moment of enthusiasm William makes a passionate declaration.

“Trust me, Anglore, since I have freely chosen thee, since thou hast brought me thy deep faith in the beautiful wonders of the fable, since thou art she who, without thought, yields to her love, as wax melts in the sun, since thou livest free of all our bonds and shams, since in thy blood, in thy pure bosom, lies the renewal of the old sap, I, on my faith as a Prince, I swear to thee that none but me, O my Rhone flower, shall have the happiness to pluck thee as a flower of love and as a wife!”

But this promise is never kept.  One day the boats meet the steamer coming down the river.  Apian, pale and silent, watches the magic bark whose wheels beat like great paws, and, raising great waves, come down steadily upon him.

The captain cries, “One side!” but, obstinate and angry, Apian tries to force the steamer to give way.  The result is disastrous.  The steamer catches in the towing cables and drags the horses into the water.  The boats drift back and are hurled against a bridge.  William and the Anglore are thrown into the river and are lost.  All the others escape with their lives.  Jean Roche is not sure but that he was the Drac after all, who, foreseeing the shipwreck, had thus followed the boats, to carry the Anglore at last down into the depths of the river.  Maitre Apian accepts his ruin philosophically.  Addressing his men, he says:  “Ah, my seven boats! my splendid draught horses!  All gone, all ruined!  It is the end of the business!  Poor fellow-boatmen, you may well say, ‘good-by to a pleasant life.’  To-day the great Rhone has died, as far as we are concerned.”