s.

When they got near the house, Honore Bontemps murmured: "Suppose it is
all over?" And his unconscious wish that it might be so showed itself in
the sound of his voice.

But the old woman was not dead. She was lying on her back, on her
wretched bed, her hands covered with a purple cotton counterpane,
horribly thin, knotty hands, like the claws of strange animals, like
crabs, half closed by rheumatism, fatigue and the work of nearly a
century which she had accomplished.

La Rapet went up to the bed and looked at the dying woman, felt her
pulse, tapped her on the chest, listened to her breathing, and asked her
questions, so as to hear her speak; and then, having looked at her for
some time, she went out of the room, followed by Honore. Her decided
opinion was that the old woman would not last till night. He asked:
"Well?" And the sick-nurse replied: "Well, she may last two days, perhaps
three. You will have to give me six francs, everything included."

"Six francs! six francs!" he shouted. "Are you out of your mind? I tell
you she cannot last more than five or six hours!" And they disputed
angrily for some time, but as the nurse said she must go home, as the
time was going by, and as his wheat would not come to the farmyard of its
own accord, he finally agreed to her terms.

"Very well, then, that is settled; six francs, including everything,
until the corpse is taken out."

And he went away, with long strides, to his wheat which was lying on the
ground under the hot sun which ripens the grain, while the sick-nurse
went in again to the house.

She had brought some work with her, for she worked without ceasing by the
side of the dead and dying, sometimes for herself, sometimes for the
family which employed her as seamstress and paid her rather more in that
capacity. Suddenly, she asked: "Have you received the last sacraments,
Mother Bontemps?"

The old peasant woman shook her head, and La Rapet, who was very devout,
got up quickly:

"Good heavens, is it possible? I will go and fetch the cure"; and she
rushed off to the parsonage so quickly that the urchins in the street
thought some accident had happened, when they saw her running.

The priest came immediately in his surplice, preceded by a choir boy who
rang a bell to announce the passage of the Host through the parched and
quiet country. Some men who were working at a distance took off their
large hats and remained motionless until the white vestment had