“I have, Madame. It is true—but he owes his life to Jean Manant.”
“To him? Did he save him?”
“Yes, Madame. From under the trampling herd he rescued him.”
“Again! Thanks, Madame Catherine. But I must hasten to Bruno’s side. I may be able to do something for him.”
And with quickened steps Mother Mathurine proceeded to Monsieur Eugène’s house, where she arrived a few moments later, breathless and trembling. Through the yard all instinctively made way for her to pass.
“Where is my son?” she asked, hoarsely. They pointed to the front room. Seeing her enter, Monsieur Eugène came forward to speak to her.
“One moment before you embrace Bruno. He has just fainted again.”
“You would tell me he is dead!”
“No! no! He is living and doing well. But you may embrace a brave lad here and thank him for his courage,” and Monsieur Eugène pointed to Jean Manant.
Mother Mathurine, turning, seized his hands and kissed them.