'We cannot leave Louise like this,' insisted Pauline. 'We must go and talk to her. Come with me.'
They found her half-way on the first flight of stairs, lacking the strength to go either up or down.
'My dear girl,' said Pauline tenderly, 'we are quite distressed about you. We are going to send for Madame Bouland.'
At this Louise grew angry. 'Why do you torment me like this,' she cried, 'when all that I want is to be left alone? I shan't need Madame Bouland for a long time yet. Leave me alone and don't torture me!'
Louise showed herself so obstinate and displayed so much temper that Lazare, in his turn, grew angry; however, Pauline was compelled to promise that she would not send for Madame Bouland. This person was an accoucheuse of Verchemont, who possessed an extraordinary reputation throughout the district for skill and energy. She was considered to have no equal at Bayeux or even at Caen. It was on account of this great reputation of hers that Louise, who was very timid and had a presentiment of disaster, had resolved to place herself in her hands. None the less she experienced a great fear of Madame Bouland—the same irrational fear, indeed, with which patients contemplate a dentist whom it is necessary they should visit, though they defer doing so as long as possible.
At six o'clock Louise felt much better again, and showed herself very triumphant in consequence. But she was worn out, and, when she had eaten a cutlet, she went back to her room. She would be all right, she said, if she could only get to sleep. Thus she obstinately refused to let anyone sit upstairs with her, and insisted upon being left alone. The others then sat down to a stew and a piece of roast veal. The dinner began in silence, for Louise's illness increased the gloom which was caused by Pauline's approaching departure. They made as little noise as possible with their spoons and forks, for fear it might reach the ears of the invalid and still further distress her. Chanteau, however, grew very loquacious by degrees, and had begun relating some wonderful stories, when Véronique, as she was handing round the veal, suddenly exclaimed:
'I'm not quite sure, but I fancy I can hear Madame Lazare groaning upstairs.'
Lazare sprang from his seat and opened the door. They all gave over eating, and strained their ears to listen. At first they could hear nothing, but soon the sound of prolonged groaning reached them.
Pauline thereupon threw down her napkin and ran upstairs, followed by Lazare. And now Louise, whom they found seated on her bed in a dressing-gown, rather peevishly consented to let them send for Madame Bouland. When Lazare, however, suggested that they had better send for Doctor Cazenove as well, on the chance of complications arising, his wife burst into tears. Hadn't they the least pity for her, she cried? Why did they go on torturing her? They knew very well that the idea of being attended by a doctor was intolerable to her. She would have nobody but Madame Bouland.
'If you send for the Doctor,' said she, 'I'll get into bed and turn my face to the wall and refuse to say another word to anybody.'