“Victor has gone to the station to meet him; patience yet a little.”
The old woman regarded him with a look of terrible pathos.
“God could not let me die without seeing Pierre,” she murmured.
At that moment, through the still afternoon, was heard the sound of a carriage. Mère Marchette’s eyes shone with a wild and fevered expression.
“You must be calm,” Lommel said. “I will bring him to you.”
He administered the little stimulant she could take, and passed quickly out into the corridor.
V.
Dr. Lommel closed the door of the ward behind him and started down the corridor, but at the first step he stopped suddenly with a terrible sinking of the heart. Victor was coming toward him, but alone, and with a white face.
“Victor,” Jean cried, in a voice intense but low, “what has happened? Where is Pierre?”