The little nephew came behind, bringing an armchair covered with Utrecht velvet; I saw that young Ernest, without the knowledge of his parents, had despoiled his own chamber in order to provide his young friend with a little furniture.
“It is high time that you came back, monsieur,” said the concierge, with that alarming manner which heightens the effect of bad news. “Mademoiselle Marguerite is very sick; there’s complications. In fact, she is losing all her blood, and you know it can’t go on long that way.”
The young man uttered a cry of dismay, and throwing the mattress to the ground, ran up the stairs four at a time, without stopping to listen to anything more. I remained in front of the concierges’ lodge, both of them being too old and too lazy to offer to carry up the mattress; as for the little nephew, it was all that he could do to climb up with the chair, and the cook was there solely to gossip. I soon made up my mind: I took the mattress on my shoulders and I went up with it to the fifth floor.
I reached the door of little Marguerite’s bedroom. It was not locked, and yet I dared not go in. I knew that the girl was so poor; and one should be especially careful when dealing with poor people. Perhaps she and her lover would be offended to think that I had ventured to come up. And yet, since she was so ill——
While I was hesitating, standing at the door with the mattress on my shoulders, I heard a shrill voice say:
“Send for a doctor, monsieur; I won’t be responsible; you must have a doctor, she needs one very bad.”
A very weak voice, which I recognized as the young girl’s, said:
“Stay here, Ernest, don’t leave me. I feel better when you are here.”
I pushed the door open and dropped the mattress in a corner of the room, saying:
“I will go out and call a doctor; stay with her, as it does her good.”