“Ah! my good lady, how I thank you!  Ah, ah! oh, how I suffer!  It’s just as if dogs were tearing at my side.  I’m sure I have a beast inside me—­see, just there!  The skin isn’t broken; the complaint is internal.  But, oh! oh! the pain hasn’t ceased for two days past.  Good Lord, how is it possible to suffer so much?  Ah, my good lady, thank you!  You don’t forget the poor.  It will be taken into account up above; yes, yes, it will be taken into account!”

Helene had sat down.  Noticing on the table a jug of warm tisane, she filled a cup which was near at hand, and gave it to the sufferer.  Near the jug were placed a packet of sugar, two oranges, and some other comfits.

“Has any one been to see you?” Helene asked.

“Yes, yes,—­a little lady.  But she doesn’t know.  That isn’t the sort of stuff I need.  Oh, if I could get a little meat!  My next-door neighbor would cook it for me.  Oh! oh! this pain is something dreadful!  A dog is tearing at me—­oh, if only I had some broth!”

In spite of the pains which were racking her limbs, she kept her sharp eyes fixed on Helene, who was now busy fumbling in her pocket, and on seeing her visitor place a ten-franc piece on the table, she whimpered all the more, and tried to rise to a sitting posture.  Whilst struggling, she extended her arm, and the money vanished, as she repeated: 

“Gracious Heaven! this is another frightful attack.  Oh! oh!  I cannot stand such agony any longer!  God will requite you, my good lady; I will pray to Him to requite you.  Bless my soul, how these pains shoot through my whole body!  His reverence Abbe Jouve promised me you would come.  It’s only you who know what I want.  I am going to buy some meat.  But now the pain’s going down into my legs.  Help me; I have no strength left—­none left at all!”

The old woman wished to turn over, and Helene, drawing off her gloves, gently took hold of her and placed her as she desired.  As she was still bending over her the door opened, and a flush of surprise mounted to her cheeks as she saw Dr. Deberle entering.  Did he also make visits to which he never referred?

“It’s the doctor!” blurted out the old woman.  “Oh!  Heaven must bless you both for being so good!”

The doctor bowed respectfully to Helene.  Mother Fetu had ceased whining on his entrance, but kept up a sibilant wheeze, like that of a child in pain.  She had understood at once that the doctor and her benefactress were known to one another; and her eyes never left them, but travelled from one to the other, while her wrinkled face showed that her mind was covertly working.  The doctor put some questions to her, and sounded her right side; then, turning to Helene, who had just sat down, he said: 

“She is suffering from hepatic colic.  She will be on her feet again in a few days.”

And, tearing from his memorandum book a leaf on which he had written some lines, he added, addressing Mother Fetu: