Then the old woman dug a hole between the roots of the tree, in which she poured a pint of wine, and put in two cloves of garlic, a slice of bacon, and a copper penny; then we filled my hat with rushes, laid it on the ground, and again marched three times round it; the third time we spat in it and said, “Catch croup, cursèd toads.” Then we turned toward home, but near the edge of the wood we laid Glodie at the foot of a thorn tree, and put up a prayer to God’s Son in the name of the Holy Thorn. The little one was unconscious when we got back to the house, but we felt that we had done all we could; and it seemed too that my wife would not quit this world as long as Glodie remained in it. “Jesus, Mary,” cried she, “I cannot go until I know that our child will recover, surely she must be cured, I swear it!” Poor old dear, she was not as sure as she said, for she kept on praying, with a strength that astonished me when I remembered that I had thought her at her last breath the night before. “If that is the last, it is a good long one,” said I, and was ashamed of myself for laughing at such a moment, but I could not help it. You cannot, of course, keep off suffering by laughter, but a Frenchman will always meet pain with a smile, and sad or merry you will find he has his eyes wide open; so, though I put a good face on it, my anxiety was as great as that of the poor old woman who was twisting and groaning in her bed. I tried to soothe her as we do children, tucking up the bedclothes which she had disordered; but she pushed me away, and told me that if I was worth my salt, I would do _something_ for Glodie. “You cured yourself of the plague,” said she, crying, “and yet you can do nothing for our darling! You are the one that ought to have died!” “True enough, my dear, and I would give my skin to save her, but it is too old and cracked to be of use to anybody; all we are good for now is to suffer, the pair of us, and be as brave as we can, it may be some help to our little girl.” My wife leaned her head against mine, and our tears dropped together as we felt in the room the sweeping wings of the Archangel of Death.