Thus saying, she assisted with her foot to extricate her from the bramble, while supporting her with her knees. Cecilia made no reply, but, raising herself up, continued her journey, and, feeling the truth of her mother's words, she exerted all her strength to avoid future complaints. Still she wept in silence; a weakness pardonable indeed, but one, nevertheless, which added to her sufferings, as weakness ever does.
Cecilia and Nanette, p. 53.
They at last reached the end of this difficult route, and once more found themselves at an opening in the wood, where several paths terminated, but without being any better able to decide which they were to take. Stopping for a moment to consider, they thought they heard at no great distance a faint sound, which was not that of the wind. They listened; "Good heavens!" exclaimed Cecilia, "I think I hear some one crying;" and she shuddered as she spoke.
They listened again, and fancied they could distinguish the voice of a child. At length, after looking in every direction, favoured by the light of the moon, which was beginning to disperse the clouds, they perceived in a corner, a little within the opening, a figure standing motionless, and leaning against a tree. Cecilia was frightened, and clung tightly to the arm of Comtois.
"Let us see what it is," said Madame de Vesac, the more anxiously, as she still heard the sounds.
On a nearer approach, they discovered that what they had seen was a poor woman, leaning motionless against a tree, and who had by her side a little girl about eight years old. The poor creature held something in her arms, which, as they came closer, they found to be an infant of about two months old, motionless like the mother. It seemed benumbed with cold; and its mother, without making any movement, or uttering a word, stood with her head bent over it, as if to warm it. One could scarcely say whether they were dead or alive. The voice which had been heard proceeded from the little girl, who, also motionless by her mother's side, continued crying in a low tone. At this moment, the moon rendered them distinctly visible. Madame de Vesac and Cecilia approached quite close to the woman, but she did not change her position. They looked at each other and trembled, for they feared that both mother and infant were dead. At last, Madame de Vesac said to her, "My good woman, what are you doing here?" She made no answer.
The little girl, who, on perceiving them, began to cry and sob more violently, pulled her by the skirt, exclaiming, "Mother! mother! some ladies!"
The poor woman raised her head, and pointed by her looks to her child, whose face she again covered with her own; they had, however, time enough to discern the face of the infant, which was pale and still as death. Madame de Vesac wished to ascertain if it yet lived, but knew not how to ask the question. At last she said in a low tone, at the same time laying her hand gently upon him, "He is very cold." "I cannot get him warm again," said the mother, in a still fainter tone, at the same time pressing him more closely to her bosom, as if anxious to make a new effort to impart her warmth to him. "Is he dead?" asked Comtois. The only reply to these terrible words were cries of despair, as the unfortunate creature pressed her infant more firmly to her heart. Madame de Vesac found means of taking its hand: it was cold as ice; but she felt its pulse, and perceiving it beat, she said with animation, "No! most assuredly he is not dead; I feel his pulse beat."
"Oh my God!" exclaimed the poor woman, with a stifled sigh, at the same time raising towards Madame de Vesac eyes beaming with gratitude, and already beginning to be suffused with tears. But she again immediately turned them upon her child, whom she passionately kissed.