A loud, convulsive sob came from the bed on which Jeanne Marie lay, and entirely confused and disturbed Simon.
"No," he said, softly, "perhaps I should not have done it. But," continued he eagerly, and with a grim look, "a child of my own would not have tried and exasperated me as this youngster does. From morning till evening he vexes me, for he does nothing that I want him to. If I order him to sing with me, he is still and stupid, and when he ought to be still he makes a noise. Would you believe me, citizen, this son of the she-wolf leaves me no quiet for sleep. Lately, in the night, he kneeled down in the bed and began to pray with a loud voice, so as to wake both my wife and myself."
"From that night on I have been sick and miserable," moaned Jeanne
Marie; "from that night I have not been able to sleep."
"You hear, citizen doctor, my wife was so terrified with that, that it made her sick, and now you shall have a proof of the disobedience of the little viper. Capet, come here."
The boy rose slowly from his chair, and stole along with drooping head to his master.
"Capet, we will sing," said Simon. "You shall show the doctor that you are a good republican, and that you have entirely forgotten that you are the son of the Austrian, the rascally Madame Veto. Come, we will sing the song about Madame Veto. Quick, strike in, or I will beat you into pulp. The song about Madame Veto, do you hear? Sing!"
A short pause ensued. Then the boy raised his swollen face and fixed his great blue eyes with a defiant, flaming expression upon the face of the cobbler.
"Citizen," he said, with clear, decided tones, "I shall not sing the song about Madame Veto, for I have not forgotten my dear mamma, and I can sing nothing bad about her, for I love my dear mamma so much, so much, and—"
The voice of the boy was drowned in his tears; he let his head fall upon his breast, ready to receive the threatened chastisement. But, before the fist of Simon, already raised, could fall upon the poor head of the little sufferer, a thrilling cry of pain resounded from the bed.
"Simon, come to me," gasped Jeanne Marie. "Help me draw the dagger out of my breast, I am dying—oh, I am dying!"