"No, my good woman, I will stay till the doctor sends you a nurse."
And turning towards the doctor, I added:
"Send old mother Mauduit; I will pay her."
"Very well, I'll send her at once."
He shook my hand, and went out; and I heard his gig drive off, over the damp road.
I was left alone with the two dying creatures.
My dog Paf had lain down in front of the empty hearth, and this reminded me that a little fire would be good for us all. I therefore went out to seek for wood and straw, and soon a bright flame lit up the whole room, and the bed of the sick child, who was again gasping for breath.
I sat down, and stretched out my legs in front of the fire.
The rain was beating against the window panes, the wind rattled over the roof. I heard the short, hard wheezing breath of the two women, and the breathing of my dog who sighed with pleasure, curled up before the bright fire-place.
Life! life! what is it? These two unhappy creatures, who had always slept on straw, eaten black bread, suffered every kind of misery, were about to die! What had they done? The father was dead, the son was dead. The poor souls had always passed for honest folk, had been liked and esteemed as simple and worthy fellows!