for nearly an
hour, while a delicious smell of roast poultry pervaded the whole
house. At last, however, a knock against the shutters made us all jump
up at the same moment. Stout Ponderel ran to open the door, and in less
than a minute a little Sister of Mercy appeared in the doorway. She was
thin, wrinkled, and timid, and successively saluted the four bewildered
hussars who saw her enter. Behind her, the noise of sticks sounded on
the tiled floor in the vestibule. As soon as she had come into the
drawing-room I saw three old heads in white caps, following each other
one by one, balancing themselves with different movements, one canting
to the right, while the other canted to the left. Then three worthy
women showed themselves, limping, dragging their legs behind them,
crippled by illness and deformed through old age, three infirm old
women, past service, the only three pensioners who were able to walk in
the establishment which Sister Saint-Benedict managed.

"She had turned round to her invalids, full of anxiety for them, and
then seeing my quartermaster's stripes, she said to me: 'I am much
obliged to you for thinking of these poor women. They have very little
pleasure in life, and you are at the same time giving them a great
treat and doing them a great honor.'

"I saw the priest, who had remained in the obscurity of the passage,
and who was laughing heartily, and I began to laugh in my turn,
especially when I saw Marchas's face. Then, motioning the nun to the
seats, I said: 'Sit down, Sister: we are very proud and very happy that
you have accepted our unpretentious invitation.'

"She took three chairs which stood against the wall, set them before
the fire, led her three old women to them, settled them on them, took
their sticks and shawls which she put into a corner, and then, pointing
to the first, a thin woman with an enormous stomach, who was evidently
suffering from the dropsy, she said: 'This is Mother Paumelle, whose
husband was killed by falling from a roof, and whose son died in
Africa; she is sixty years old.' Then she pointed to another, a tall
woman, whose head shook unceasingly: 'This is Mother Jean-Jean, who is
sixty-seven. She is nearly blind, for her face was terribly singed in a
fire, and her right leg was half burned off.'

"Then she pointed to the third, a sort of dwarf, with protruding,
round, stupid eyes, which she rolled incessantly in all directions.
'This is La Putois, an idiot. She is