Part 61 (2/2)
”Because I do not want you to beat him to death,” she said, with a hoa.r.s.e, rough voice.
He broke out into loud laughter. ”I really believe that the knitter of the guillotine has pity on the son of the she-wolf.”
A convulsive quiver pa.s.sed through her whole frame. A singular, gurgling sound came from her chest; she put both her hands to her neck and tore the little kerchief off, as if it were tied tight enough to strangle her.
”No,” she said, in a suppressed tone, ”no compa.s.sion on the wolf's brood! But if you beat him to death, they will have to bring you to the guillotine, that it may not appear as if they had ordered you to kill the little Capet.”
”True,” said Simon, ”you are right, and I thank you, Jeanne Marie, that you may remind me of it. It shows that you love me still, although you are always so quiet. Yes, yes, I will be more careful; I will take care to beat the little serpent only so much that it may not bite, but cannot die.”
Jeanne Marie made no reply, but sat down in the corner again, and took up her stocking, without touching the needles, however, and going on with her work.
”Get up, you cursed snake!” growled Simon, ”get up and go out of my sight, and do not stir me up again.”
The child rose slowly from the floor, crept to the wash-basin and with his trembling, bruised hands wiped away the blood that was flowing out of his nose and mouth. A loud, gurgling sound came from the corner where Jeanne Marie sat. It seemed half like a cry, half like a sob. When Simon looked around, his wife lay pale and motionless on the floor; she had sunk from her chair in a swoon.
Simon grasped her in his strong arms and carried her to the bed, laid her gently and carefully down, and busied himself about her, showing a manifest anxiety.
”She must not die,” he murmured, rubbing her temples with salt water; ”she must not leave me alone in this horrible prison and with this dreadful child.--Jeanne Marie, wake up, come to yourself!” She opened her eyes, and gazed at her husband with wild, searching looks.
”What is the matter, Jeanne Marie?” he asked. ”Have you pain? Are you sick?”
”Yes,” she said, ”I am sick, I am in pain.”
”I will go to bring you a physician, you shall not die! No, no, you shall not die, you shall have a physician. The Hotel Dieu is very near, they will certainly allow me to go as far as there, and bring a doctor for my dear Jeanne.”
He was on the point of hastening away, but Jeanne Marie held him fast. ”Remain here,” she murmured, ”do not let me be alone with him- -I am afraid of him!”
”Of whom?” asked Simon, astonished; and as he followed the looks of his wife, they rested on the boy, who was still busy in checking the blood that was flowing freely from his swollen nose.
”Of him!” asked Simon, in amazement.
Jeanne Marie nodded. ”Yes,” she whispered, ”I am afraid of him, and I do not want to remain alone with him, for he would kill me.” Simon burst into a loud, hoa.r.s.e laugh. ”Now I see that you are really sick, and the doctor shall come at once. But they certainly will not let me leave this place, for this despicable brat has made us both prisoners, the miserable, good-for-nothing thing!”
”Send him away; let him go into his own room,” whispered Jeanne Marie. ”I cannot bear to see him; he poisons my blood. Send him away, for I shall be crazy if I have to look at him longer.”
”Away with you, you viper!” roared Simon; and the boy, who knew that he was meant--that the term viper was applied only to him--hastily dried his tears, and slipped through the open door into his little dark apartment.
”Now I will run and call the porter,” said Simon, hurriedly; ”he shall send some one to the Hotel Dieu, and bring a physician for my poor, dear, sick Jeanne Marie.”
He hastened out, and turned back, after a few minutes, with the report that the porter himself had gone to bring a doctor, and that help would come at once.
”Nonsense!” cried Jeanne Marie; ”no doctor can help me, and there is nothing at all that I want. Only give me something to drink, Simon, for my throat burns like fire, and then call little Capet in, for in his dark room his eyes glisten like stars, and I cannot bear them.”
Simon shook his head sadly; and, while holding a gla.s.s of cold water to her lips, he said to himself: ”Jeanne Marie is really sick! She has a fever! But we must do what she orders, else it will come to delirium, and she might become insane.”
And with a loud voice he called, ”Capet, Capet! come here, come here! you viper, you wolf's cub, come here!”
The boy obeyed the command, slowly crept into the room, and sat down in the rush-chair in the corner. ”He shall not look at me,” shrieked Jeanne Marie; ”he shall not look into my heart with his dreadful blue eyes, it hurts me--oh! so much, so much!”
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