“I must, I must, for your sake. Valmond! Valmond! O Valmond!” cried Elise again out of her delirium.
The stricken girl had answered for Parpon. She had decided for herself. Life! that was all she prayed for: for another’s sake, not her own.
Her own mother slept on, in the corner of the room, unconscious of the terrible verdict hanging in the balance.
Madame Degardy quickly emptied into a cup of liquor the strange brown powder, mixed it, and held it to the girl’s lips, pouring it slowly down.
Once, twice, during the next hour, a low, anguished voice filled the room; but just as dawn came, Parpon stooped and tenderly wiped a soft moisture from the face, lying so quiet and peaceful now against the pillow.
“She breathes easy, poor pretty bird!” said the old woman gently.
“She’ll never see again?” asked Parpon mournfully. “Never a thing while she lives,” was the whispered reply.
“But she has her life,” said the dwarf; “she wished it so.”
“What’s the good!” The old woman had divined why Elise had wanted to live.
The dwarf did not answer. His eyes wandered about abstractedly, and fell again upon Elise’s mother sleeping, unconscious of the awful peril passed, and the painful salvation come to her daughter.