The good sisters who were in charge of a refuge and small infirmary at Duclair were only too ready to do so. They installed Madam Rousselin in the wagonette and covered her with shawls. She had not recovered consciousness and was delirious, waving her mutilated hand, the thumb and first finger of which were swollen and bleeding.
The horse trotted quietly off.
Ralph remained motionless, thoroughly upset by the sight of that mutilated hand; and so upset was he that he did not notice the movements of Leonard and the three Corbus who had surrounded him and were about to attack him. When he did perceive them, the four of them had cut him off from the road and were trying to force him into the garden. No peasant was in sight; and the situation seemed so favorable to Leonard that he drew his knife.
“Put that up and leave us!” cried Josephine. “You Corbus too. None of that foolishness!”
She had not risen from her chair while all this had been going on, but now she rose among the bushes.
Leonard protested: “It isn’t foolishness! The foolishness would be to let him go—now that we’ve once got him.”
“Be off!” she commanded.
“But that woman—that woman will denounce us!”
“No she won’t. It’s not to Mother Rousselin’s interest to speak. Now be off!” said Josephine.