John knew it?--encouraged it?--eh, well, eh, well!--But--can I
believe you, Madame John? Oh! you have Monsieur John's sworn statement.
Ah! very good, truly, but--you _say_ you have it; but where is it? Ah!
to-morrow!" a sceptical shrug. "Pardon me, Madame John, I think perhaps,
_perhaps_ you are telling the truth.

"If I think you did right? Certainly! What nature keeps back, accident
sometimes gives, Madame John; either is God's will. Don't cry. 'Stealing
from the dead?' No! It was giving, yes! They are thanking you in heaven,
Madame John."

Kristian Koppig, lying awake, but motionless and with closed eyes, hears
in part, and, fancying he understands, rejoices with silent intensity.
When the doctor is gone he calls Zalli.

"I give you a great deal of trouble, eh, Madame John?"

"No, no; you are no trouble at all. Had you the yellow fever--ah! then!"

She rolled her eyes to signify the superlative character of the
tribulations attending yellow fever.

"I had a lady and gentleman once--a Spanish lady and gentleman, just off
the ship; both sick at once with the fever--delirious--could not tell
their names. Nobody to help me but sometimes Monsieur John! I never had
such a time,--never before, never since,--as that time. Four days and
nights this head touched not a pillow."

"And they died!" said Kristian Koppig.

"The third night the gentleman went. Poor Senor! 'Sieur John,--he did
not know the harm,--gave him some coffee and toast! The fourth night it
rained and turned cool, and just before day the poor lady"--

"Died!" said Koppig.

Zalli dropped her arms listlessly into her lap and her eyes ran brimful.

"And left an infant!" said the Dutchman, ready to shout with exultation.

"Ah! no, Monsieur," said Zalli.

The invalid's heart sank like a stone.

"Madame John,"--his voice was all in a tremor,--"tell me the truth. Is
'Tite Poulette your own child?"

"Ah-h-h, ha! ha! what foolishness! Of course she is my child!" And
Madame gave vent to a true Frenchwoman's laugh.

It was too much for the sick man. In the pitiful weakness of his
shattered nerves he turned his face into his pillow and wept like a
child. Zalli passed into the next room to hide her emotion.

"Maman, dear Maman," said 'Tite Poulette, who had overheard nothing, but
only saw the tears.

"Ah! my child, my child, my task--my task is too great--too great for
me. Let me go now--another time. Go and watch at his bedside."

"But, Maman,"--for