it is likely enough, Monsieur le baron; for when Madame was so cruel to me I thought I would come and ask the wolves to help me, but couldn't decide at once to do so."
"What help can the wolves give you?"
Michel forced himself to utter the word.
"The help I wanted Madame la baronne to give me, for my poor father who is very ill."
"What is the matter with him?"
"A fever he caught in the marshes."
"A fever?" repeated Michel; "is it a malignant fever, – intermittent or typhoid?"
"I don't know, Monsieur le baron."
"What does the doctor say?"
"Oh, goodness! the doctor lives at Palluau; he won't trouble himself to come here under five francs, and we are not rich enough to pay five francs for a doctor's visit."
"And didn't my mother give you any money?"
"Why, I told you she wouldn't even see me! 'A fever!' she said; 'and Rosine dares to come to the château when her father has a fever? Send her away.'"
"Oh, impossible!"
"I heard her, Monsieur le baron, she spoke so loud; besides, the proof is that they turned me out of the house."
"Wait, wait!" cried the young man eagerly, "I'll give you the money." He felt in his pockets. Then he remembered that he had given Courtin all he had with him. "Confound it! I haven't a penny on me," he said. "Come back with me to the château, Rosine, and I'll give you all you want."
"No, no!" said the young girl; "I wouldn't go back for all the gold in the world! No, my resolution is taken: I shall go to the wolves; they are charitable; they won't turn away a poor girl who wants help for a dying father."
"But-but," said the young man, hesitating, "I am told they are not rich."
"Who are not rich?"
"The Demoiselles de Souday."
"Oh! it isn't money people ask of them, – it isn't alms they give; it is something better than that, and God knows it."
"What is it, then?"
"They go themselves when people are sick; and if they can't cure them, they comfort them in dying, and mourn with those who are left."
"Yes," said the young man, "that may be for ordinary illness, but when it is a dangerous fever-"
"They wouldn't mind that, – not they! There's nothing dangerous to kind hearts. I shall go to them, and you'll see they'll come. If you stay here ten minutes more you'll see me coming back with one or other of the sisters, who will help me nurse my father. Good-bye, Monsieur Michel. I never would have thought Madame la baronne could be so cruel! To drive away like a thief the daughter of the woman who nursed you!"
The girl walked on and the young man made no answer; there was nothing he could say. But Rosine had dropped a word which remained in his mind: "If you stay here ten minutes you will see me coming back with one or other of the sisters." He resolved to stay. The opportunity he had lost in one direction came back to him from another. Oh! if only Mary should be the one to come out with Rosine!
But how could he suppose that a young girl of eighteen, the daughter of the Marquis de Souday, would leave her home at eight o'clock at night and go five miles to nurse a poor peasant ill of a dangerous fever? It was not only improbable, but it was actually impossible. Rosine must have made the sisters better than they were, just as others made them worse.
Besides, was it believable that his mother, noted for her piety and claiming all the virtues, could have acted in this affair just the reverse of two young girls of whom so much evil was said in the neighborhood? But if things should happen as Rosine said, wouldn't that prove that these young girls had souls after God's own heart? Of course, however, it was quite certain that neither of them would come.
The young man was repeating this for the tenth time in as many minutes when he saw, at the angle of the road round which Rosine had disappeared, the shadows of two women. In spite of the coming darkness he saw that one was Rosine; but as for the person with her, it was impossible to recognize her identity, for she was wrapped in a large mantle.
Baron Michel was so perplexed in mind, and his heart above all was so agitated, that his legs failed him, and he stood stock-still till the girls came up to him.
"Well, Monsieur le baron," said Rosine, with much pride, "what did I tell you?"
"What did you tell him?" said the girl in the mantle.
Michel sighed. By the firm and decided tone of voice he knew she was Bertha.
"I told him that I shouldn't be turned away from your house as I was from the château de la Logerie," answered Rosine.
"But," said Michel, "perhaps you have not told Mademoiselle de Souday what is the matter with your father."
"From the symptoms," said Bertha, "I suppose it is typhoid fever. That is why we have not a minute to lose; it is an illness that requires to be taken in time. Are you coming with us, Monsieur Michel?"
"But, mademoiselle," said the young man, "typhoid fever is contagious."
"Some say it is, and others say it is not," replied Bertha, carelessly.
"But," insisted Michel, "it is deadly."
"Yes, in many cases; though it is often cured."
The young man went close up to Bertha.
"Are you really going to expose yourself to such a danger?" he said.
"Of course I am."
"For an unknown man, a stranger to you?"
"Those who are strangers to us," said Bertha, with infinite gentleness, "are fathers, brothers, husbands, to other human beings. There is no such thing as a stranger in this world, Monsieur Michel; even to you this man may be something."
"He was the husband of my nurse," stammered Michel.
"There! you see," said Bertha, "you can't regard him as a stranger."
"I did offer to go back to the château with Rosine and give her the money to get a doctor."
"And she refused, preferring to come to us? Thank you, Rosine," said Bertha.
The young man was dumfounded. He had heard of charity, but he had never seen it; and here it was embodied in the form of Bertha. He followed the young girls thoughtfully, with his head down.
"If you are coming with us, Monsieur Michel," said Bertha, "be so kind as to carry this little box, which contains the medicines."
"No," said Rosine, "Monsieur le baron can't come with us, for he knows what a dread madame has of contagious diseases."
"You are mistaken, Rosine," said the young man; "I am going with you."
And he took the box from Bertha's hands. An hour later they all three reached the cottage of the sick man.
XI.
THE
