Talking thus, about three o'clock, we reached the wretched tavern of Graufthal. We ascended the little staircase. Marie-Rose had heard us; she was at the door, and hastened to offer a chair to Dr. Simperlin.
The doctor looked at the black beams of the ceiling, the narrow windows, the little stove, and said:
"It is very small and very dark for people accustomed to the open air."
He was thinking of our pretty house in the valley, with its large, shining windows, its white walls. Ah! the times had changed sadly.
At last, having rested for a few minutes, to get his breath, he said:
"Let us go see the invalid."
We entered the little side room together. The day was declining; we had to light the lamp, and the doctor, leaning over the bed, looked at the poor old woman, saying:
"Well, grandmother Anne, I was passing by Graufthal, and Father Frederick beckoned me in; he told me that you were not very well."
Then the grandmother, entirely aroused, recognised him and answered:
"Ah! it is you, M. Simperlin. Yes, yes; I have suffered, and I suffer still. God grant it will soon be over!"