"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."

"Oh! yes, yes, do go," said Ernest; "oh! how grateful I shall be to you!"

I heard no more; I descended the stairs rapidly and nearly overturned the concierge's little nephew, who had only reached the third floor with his chair; I believe that the little rascal sat down on it at every landing. At last I was in the street; I ran at random, looking about for some shop that was still open, where I could inquire if there was a doctor in the neighborhood.

Where should I apply? Everybody was in bed; I saw many midwives' signs, but a midwife was not what I wanted. I ventured to ring at several doors; I jerked the bells and made an infernal noise.

"Who is there?" the concierges asked me; and I shouted:

"Isn't there a doctor in the house?"

They answered me with abuse, or not at all; people are not polite when they want to sleep.

I knew two doctors, but they lived so far away that the poor child would have time to die before they could get to her. What was I to do? I did not wish to return alone. I was tempted to cry fire. That method, which has been employed in several plays, might serve in real life as well; one always has to frighten one's fellow-citizens, to obtain anything from them. Then, when everybody had come to the windows, I would call for a doctor.

I was about to give the alarm, when two men pa.s.sed me, talking with great earnestness. I recognized Ernest's voice; it was he, in fact; fearing that I would not return quickly enough, he had followed me; but he had thought to ask the nurse for the address of a doctor, and he had found one. I ran after him, and he thanked me, although I had been of no service to him. We returned, walking rapidly, without speaking; poor Ernest had but one thought, to save his little Marguerite. We arrived.

Ernest went up to his mistress with the surgeon. I remained in the hall, going upstairs and down in my excitement. I had simply said to Ernest:

"If you need anything, I shall be here."

How long the minutes seemed to me! Those young lovers loved each other so dearly! the poor girl was so sweet! if she should die, how her lover would grieve for her and regret her! To lose such a long future of happiness! Ah! Death goes sadly astray when it closes eyes of sixteen years.

It seemed to me that an hour had pa.s.sed since the doctor went up. But I heard steps coming down, and someone called me; it was Ernest. Joy gleamed in his eyes, and he cried:

"My friend, my friend, she is saved; there is no more danger!"

"Ah! I am so glad to hear it!"

We shook hands. He had called me his friend, and a few hours earlier we had hardly known each other; but there are events which bind two people more closely than sixty evenings pa.s.sed together in society. It was one of those events which had happened to us.

The surgeon came downstairs and Ernest ran to meet him.

"Are you going, monsieur? Then she is out of danger?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, have no fear; everything is all right now, and as it should be; I will answer for her; all she needs now is rest."

"But you will come to-morrow morning, won't you, monsieur?"

"Yes, I will come to see her to-morrow."

With that the doctor went away and Ernest followed him to the street door, gazing at him, and listening to him as to an oracle. Ah! that is a n.o.ble art which gives us the means of saving the lives of our fellowmen.

The man who has saved the life of a person whom we love ceases to be a man in our eyes, and becomes a G.o.d.

I was about to go to my room, but Ernest said to me:

"Come up with me a moment; it will please her."

I followed him. The girl was lying in her bed, which in truth did not seem to be very soft; however she had, in addition to her ordinary bed, the mattress that her lover had brought. The midwife was seated in the armchair, the magnificence of which was in striking contrast to the few pieces of furniture with which the room was supplied; she had her feet on a foot-warmer, although she was sitting directly in front of the fireplace; to be sure, the fire was a very modest one. There was nothing about the woman to indicate sensibility; one could see that she was there to practise her profession and that was all; and from her unamiable expression and the glances that she cast about her, I could see that the poverty of the room made her apprehensive that she would not be well paid for her services; however, she had agreed to pa.s.s the night there, and the young man was very grateful to her.

Ernest walked very softly to the bed; but the girl instantly held out her hand to him, saying:

"Oh! I am not asleep, I have no desire to sleep; but I am very comfortable now. The only thing is that I am afraid it will tire you to sit up all night; you are just getting over a sickness yourself, and you are not strong yet. Go home; you know that I am out of danger; the doctor said so, and since madame will stay----"

"Oh, yes, I will stay," said the midwife, in a sour tone, "although it puts me out; but still--great heaven! how cold it is in this room! the wind blows everywhere. A fine fire that! just two sticks! ain't there even a pair of bellows here?"

Ernest hastily fetched the bellows, and handed them to the woman; then he returned to the bed, saying:

"You must know, my love, that I shall not leave you. But here is Monsieur Blemont, who was good enough to go out to call a doctor, when he came up an hour ago; we haven't so much as thought of thanking him."

"Ah! that is true, my dear.--I beg pardon, monsieur, pray excuse me; but I was in such pain then----"

"You owe me no thanks, for it was not I who found your doctor."

"No matter," said Ernest, "you showed some interest in us, and I shall never forget it."

"What a miserable pair of bellows! Not two sous' worth of wind! it must be pleasant here in freezing weather!"

I turned toward the woman; I should have liked to impose silence upon her, for it seemed to me that her indiscreet remarks must be painful to the two lovers. But I was mistaken; they were not listening to her.

Ernest was holding his darling's hand, and she was gazing lovingly into his eyes; after their fear of an eternal separation, it seemed to them that they had recovered each other. They were entirely absorbed in their love. But Marguerite sighed, and after a moment I heard her whisper to Ernest:

"What a pity, my dear! it was a boy!"

Poor child! although hardly able to keep herself alive, she wanted a child, because every woman is proud to be a mother, and a child is an additional bond between her and her lover.

I was about to leave them when there was a loud noise outside; it was a crash of broken gla.s.s, and it seemed to be on the roof near the window of the chamber in which we were.

The midwife uttered a cry of terror, and ran behind me, exclaiming:

"It's thieves! did you hear, monsieur? They're coming in the window. We must rouse the whole house."

I confess that I shared the opinion of the nurse, and I was about to open the window to see what was afoot, when Marguerite, who, instead of showing signs of alarm, had smiled faintly, motioned to me to stop, and said to us:

"Don't be alarmed, I know what it is; I am used to that noise now; it is my neighbor, Monsieur Pettermann, going into his room."

"Who on earth is Monsieur Pettermann, and why does he make such a noise going into his room?" asked the midwife.

"Monsieur Pettermann is a tailor, and works in his room; but he gets drunk at least three times a week; on those days he always loses his door key; then he climbs out on the gutter under the window of the landing and crawls along, at the risk of breaking his neck, to his own window, puts his fist through a pane so that he can throw back the catch, and gets into his room that way. Ask Ernest if we haven't heard him do it more than a dozen times."

I could not help laughing at Monsieur Pettermann's habits, while the nurse exclaimed:

"Oh! the idiot! he gave me a fright. The idea of walking on a gutter!