r me, and everybody else shall hear me.
They shall see that it is not my fault. Is it not so, gentlemen? Do I
not deserve pity? You will entreat Jacques to forgive me; for if driven
by misery--finding no work--I was forced to this--not for the sake of
any luxury--you see the rags I wear--but to get bread and shelter for my
poor, sick sister--dying, and even more miserable than myself--would you
not have pity upon me? Do you think one finds pleasure in one's infamy?"
cried the unfortunate, with a burst of frightful laughter; then she
added, in a low voice, and with a shudder, "Oh, if you knew, Jacques! it
is so infamous, so horrible, that I preferred death to falling so low
a second time. I should have killed myself, had I not heard you were
here." Then, seeing that Jacques did not answer her, but shook his
head mournfully as he sank down though still supported by Ninny
Moulin, Cephyse exclaimed, as she lifted her clasped hands towards him,
"Jacques! one word--for pity's sake--forgive me!"

"Gentlemen, pray remove this woman," cried Morok; "the sight of her
causes my friend too painful emotions."

"Come, my dear child, be reasonable," said several of the guests, who,
deeply moved by this scene, were endeavoring to withdraw Cephyse from
it; "leave him, and come with us; he is not in any danger."

"Gentlemen! oh, gentlemen!" cried the unfortunate creature, bursting
into tears, and raising her hands in supplication; "listen to me--I
will do all that you wish me--I will go--but, in heaven's name, send
for help, and do not let him die thus. Look, what pain he suffers! what
horrible convulsions!"

"She is right," said one of the guests, hastening towards the door; "we
must send for a doctor."

"There is no doctor to be found," said another; "they are all too busy."

"We will do better than that," cried a third; "the Hospital is just
opposite, and we can carry the poor fellow thither. They will give him
instant help. A leaf of the table will make a litter, and the table
cloth a covering."

"Yes, yes, that is it," said several voices; "let us carry him over at
once."

Jacques, burnt up with brandy, and overcome by his interview with
Cephyse, had again fallen into violent convulsions. It was the dying
paroxysm of the unfortunate man. They were obliged to tie him with the
ends of the cloth, so as to secure him to the leaf which was to serve
for a litter, which two of the guests hastened to carry away. They
yielded to the