Madame Bouland gave them, adding: 'I cannot undertake the responsibility. The presence of a doctor is absolutely necessary.'
Silence fell once more. Lazare was overcome with despair. Where were they to find a doctor at that time of night? His wife might die twenty times before they could get the surgeon from Arromanches.
'I don't think there is any immediate danger,' said Madame Bouland; 'still, you had better lose no time. I myself can do nothing further.'
And as Pauline besought her, in the name of humanity, to try something, at any rate, to alleviate the sufferings of Louise, whose groans echoed through the house, she replied in her clear sharp voice: 'No, indeed; I can do nothing of that kind. That other poor woman over yonder is dead, and I would rather not be responsible for this one.'
Again did Lazare shudder. At this moment, however, a tearful call was heard from Chanteau in the dining-room.
'Are you there? Come in! No one has been to tell me anything. I have been waiting to hear something ever so long.'
They entered the room. They had forgotten all about poor Chanteau since the interrupted dinner. He had remained at the table, twisting his thumbs and patiently waiting with all the drowsy resignation which he had acquired during his long periods of lonely quiescence. This new catastrophe, which was revolutionising the house, had greatly saddened him; he had not even had heart enough to go on eating, his food still remained untouched on his plate.
'Is she no better?' he inquired.
Lazare ragefully shrugged his shoulders. But Madame Bouland, who retained all her accustomed calmness, pressed the young man to lose no further time.
'Take my trap!' she said. 'The horse is tired out; still, you will be able to get back in two hours or two hours and a half. I will stay here and look after her.'