"Come up, Monsieur Moses," said the girl: "the doctor has just come in, and has not gone to bed. Come up a moment and warm yourself!"
But Father Steinbrenner had heard it all.
"Very well, Theresa!" said he, coming out of his room; "keep the fire burning. I shall be back in an hour at latest."
He had already put on his large three-cornered cap, and his goat's-hair great-coat.
We walked across the square without speaking. I went first; in a few minutes we ascended our stairs.
Sorlé had placed a candle at the top of the stairs; I took it and led M. Steinbrenner to the baby's room.
All seemed quiet as we entered. Zeffen was sitting in an arm-chair behind the door, with her head on her knees, and her shoulders uncovered; she was no longer crying but weeping. The child was in bed. Sorlé, standing at its side, looked at us.
The doctor laid his cap on the bureau.
"It is too warm here," said he, "give us a little air."
Then he went to the bed. Zeffen had risen from her chair, as pale as death. The doctor took the lamp, and looked at our poor little David; he raised the coverlet and lifted out the little round limbs; he listened to the breathing. Esdras having begun to cry, he turned round and said: "Take the other child away from this room—we must be quiet! and besides, the air of a sick-room is not good for such small children."