arge ungraceful folds. Every
time she moved, her long chaplet of beads of coloured box-wood, loaded
with crosses and copper medals, shook and trailed along the floor with a
noise like a jingling of chains.

Dr. Herve was seated on a chair opposite the bed, watching, apparently
with close attention, the nun's preparations. He jumped up as Noel
entered.

"At last you are here," he said, giving his friend a strong grasp of the
hand.

"I was detained at the Palais," said the advocate, as if he felt the
necessity of explaining his absence; "and I have been, as you may well
imagine, dreadfully anxious."

He leant towards the doctor's ear, and in a trembling voice asked:
"Well, is she at all better?"

The doctor shook his head with an air of deep discouragement.

"She is much worse," he replied: "since morning bad symptoms have
succeeded each other with frightful rapidity."

He checked himself. The advocate had seized his arm and was pressing it
with all his might. Madame Gerdy stirred a little, and a feeble groan
escaped her.

"She heard you," murmured Noel.

"I wish it were so," said the doctor; "It would be most encouraging.
But I fear you are mistaken. However, we will see." He went up to Madame
Gerdy, and, whilst feeling her pulse, examined her carefully; then, with
the tip of his finger, he lightly raised her eyelid.

The eye appeared dull, glassy, lifeless.

"Come, judge for yourself; take her hand, speak to her."

Noel, trembling all over, did as his friend wished. He drew near, and,
leaning over the bed, so that his mouth almost touched the sick woman's
ear, he murmured: "Mother, it is I, Noel, your own Noel. Speak to me,
make some sign, do you hear me, mother?"

It was in vain; she retained her frightful immobility. Not a sign of
intelligence crossed her features.

"You see," said the doctor, "I told you the truth."

"Poor woman!" sighed Noel, "does she suffer?"

"Not at present."

The nun now rose; and she too came beside the bed.

"Doctor," said she: "all is ready."

"Then call the servant, sister, to help us. We are going to apply a
mustard poultice."

The servant hastened in. In the arms of the two women, Madame Gerdy was
like a corpse, whom they were dressing for the last time. She was as
rigid as though she were dead. She must have suffered much and long,
poor woman, for it was pitiable to see how thin she was. The nun
herself was affected, although she had become habituated to the si