"He ought to be punished," cried one, angrily.
"Severely," exclaimed several others.
"Another child run over," said one man to the constable on guard.
"But who is this boy who has ventured all alone into the street, blind as he is?" asked another.
These words struck Madelaine to the heart. She threw down her bread and rushed into the crowd, which opened before her, and let her see the blind Raphael carried by two men, pale as a corse, his right arm hanging down, and the broken bone showing through the skin.
"Oh, Raphael! my Raphael!" cried Madelaine in agony.
At this well-known voice, a ray of pleasure brightened the face of the boy; he stretched out his left arm to draw her towards him, and hiding his face in her bosom, he said, sobbing, "Mother is dying, and Jacot—and I—dying of grief."
"But," said Madelaine, "how have you come here? How were you run over?"
"Mother was so unhappy, and never ceased crying about you; she would have come to look for you but she was too weak. Since yesterday, Jacot has had no seed; we gave him a few crumbs, but he does not sing, and mother said he sits quite still upon his perch, and that he will die. In my grief I came out to search for you, and to beg some seed for Jacot. I walked along by the houses for some time very well, but when I was crossing a street, a carriage came past at full gallop, threw me down, and the wheel went over my arm."
Madelaine shuddered as she looked at the arm, and said, "poor Raphael! you are in great pain."