Madame Lacombe's usually grim and sardonic face showed that she was a prey to the most poignant grief and distress. Kneeling beside the mattress on which her goddaughter was lying, she was supporting Mariette's head upon her mutilated arm, and holding a glass of water to the girl's inanimate lips with the other. Hearing a sound, Madame Lacombe turned hastily, and her features resumed their usually hard and irascible expression, as she saw Louis standing motionless in the doorway. "What do you want?" she demanded, brusquely. "Why do you come in without knocking? I don't know you. Who are you?" "My God! in what a terrible condition I find her!" exclaimed Louis. And without paying any attention to Madame Lacombe's question, he sprang forward, and, throwing himself on his knees beside the pallet, exclaimed, imploringly: "What is the matter, Mariette? Answer me, I beseech you." Madame Lacombe, who had been as much surprised as annoyed at the young man's intrusion, now scrutinised his features closely, and, after a moment's reflection, said, sullenly: "You are Louis Richard, I suppose?" "Yes, madame, but in Heaven's name what has happened to Mariette?" "You have killed her, that is all!" "I? Great God! But, madame, something must be done. Let me run for a doctor. Her hands are like ice. Mariette, Mariette! Oh, my God! my God! she does not hear me." "She has been in this state ever since last night, and it was your letter that caused it." "My letter! What letter?" "Oh, you intend to deny it now, I suppose. You needn't, for last night the poor child couldn't bear it any longer, and told me all." "Great Heavens! What did she tell you?" "That you never wanted to lay eyes on her again, and that you had deserted her for another. That is always the way with you men!" "On the contrary, I wrote to Mariette that--" "You lie!" exclaimed the old woman, more and more incensed. "She told me what was in the letter. She has it here in her hand. I haven't been able to get it away from her. Hadn't she enough to bear without your treating her in this way? Get out of this house, you scoundrel! Mariette was a fool, and so was I, to refuse the offer made us, and I told her so at the time. 'See how we shall be rewarded for our honesty,' I said to her. And my words have come true. She is dying, and I shall be turned out into the street, for we are behind in our rent, and the little furniture we have will be taken from us. Fortunately, I have a quarter of a bushel of charcoal left," she added, with a grim smile, "and charcoal is the friend and deliverer of the poor." "This is horrible!" cried Louis, unable to restrain his tears; "but I swear to you that we are all the victims of a most deplorable mistake. Mariette, Mariette, arouse yourself! It is I--I, Louis!" "You are determined to kill her, I see!" exclaimed Madame Lacombe, making a desperate effort to push the young man away. "If she recovers consciousness, the sight of you will finish her!"