She drew him gently towards her, and said to him in her grave way:
'You are neither foolish nor base; you are unfortunate. Kiss me, Lazare.'
They exchanged a kiss before that poor little babe, who seemed to be asleep. It was the kiss of brother and sister untainted by the slightest breath of the passion which had glowed within them only the day before.
The dawn was breaking, a soft grey dawn. Cazenove came to look at the baby, and was astonished to find it doing so well. He determined to take it back into the other room, for he felt that he could now answer for Louise. When the little creature was brought to its mother, she looked at it with a feeble smile, then closed her eyes and fell into deep and restorative slumber. The window had been slightly opened, and a delicious freshness, like a very breath of life, streamed in from the sea. They all stood for a moment motionless, worn out, but very happy, beside the bed in which the young mother was sleeping. Then, with silent tread, they left the room, leaving Madame Bouland to watch over her.
The Doctor, however, did not go away till nearly eight o'clock. He was very hungry, and Lazare and Pauline themselves were famished, so Véronique prepared some coffee and an omelet. Downstairs they found Chanteau, whom they had all forgotten, sleeping soundly in his chair. Nothing had been touched since the previous evening, and the room reeked with the acrid smoke of the lamp, which was still burning. Pauline jokingly remarked that the table, on which the plates and dishes had remained, was already laid for them. She swept up the crumbs and made the things a little tidier. Then, as the coffee took some little time to prepare, they attacked the cold veal, joking the while about the dinner that had been so unpleasantly interrupted. Now that all danger was over, they were as merry as children.
'You will hardly believe it,' Chanteau exclaimed, beaming, 'but I slept without being asleep. I was very angry that nobody came down to give me any news, but I felt no uneasiness, for I dreamt that all was going on well.'
His delight increased when he saw Abbé Horteur enter the room. The priest had come across after saying Mass. Chanteau joked him merrily.
'Ah! here you are at last! You deserted me in a nice way last night! Are you frightened of babies, then?'
The priest defended himself from this charge by telling them how he had one night delivered a poor woman on the high-road and baptized her child. Then he accepted a small glass of curaçoa.
Bright sunshine was gilding the yard when Dr. Cazenove at last took his departure. As Lazare and Pauline walked with him to the gate, he whispered to the latter: