"Let us take him," said Madame de Vesac; "we are better able to warm him than you are."
"Give him to me. I will put him under my great coat," said Comtois, as he unfastened his thick, warm travelling coat. The poor woman hesitated. "Give him to me," he continued. "I have children of my own. I know how to manage them."
"Let him take the child," said Madame de Vesac; and the unhappy mother placed the infant in his arms, wrapping the coat round him. In order to make room for him, Comtois removed a bottle from one of the inside pockets.
"Stop!" said he; "this won't hurt him." It was a bottle of brandy; he opened it, and poured a few drops into the mouth of the child, who swallowed it.
"He swallows!" exclaimed the mother, in a transport of joy; and the child began to breathe more freely, and to move its little arms.
"I thought so!" said Comtois; "this would bring the dead to life. It would do you no harm either, to take a little, my good woman."
The poor creature replied that she did not want anything; but Madame de Vesac persuaded her to take a little to warm her. Then the little girl, who since the arrival of Madame de Vesac had ceased crying, watching all that passed around her, again began to sob, in a low tone, but sufficiently loud to make herself heard. Cecilia was the first to observe her, and began to caress her, in order to quiet her, but the child still continued crying, with her eyes directed to the bottle. Cecilia asked if a little might not also be given to her, and Comtois declared that it would do her no harm. "Yes," said Madame de Vesac, "if she only takes a few drops; but if you give her the bottle, she will drink too much." Meanwhile the child still cried and watched the bottle, and her manner was so quiet and gentle, that the heart of Cecilia was vividly touched. At last, by an effort of which she could not have believed herself capable, Cecilia took off her glove, and told the child that she should drink out of her hand; but when the little girl had done so, she hid her hand again, observing that it was very cold; but when the child rejected the brandy, saying it burned her mouth, Cecilia observed to her that it was not worth while to have made her take off her glove. She was on the point of putting it on again, when the mother said that a bit of bread would have been much better for her, as she had eaten nothing since noon. At this the child began to cry more bitterly.
"Oh, dear!" said Cecilia, "if I had but the bun I bought this morning, and did not eat."
"Where is it?" asked her mother.
"In the carriage."