The young man uttered a cry of dismay, and throwing the mattress to the ground, ran up the stairs four at a time, without stopping to listen to anything more. I remained in front of the concierges’ lodge, both of them being too old and too lazy to offer to carry up the mattress; as for the little nephew, it was all that he could do to climb up with the chair, and the cook was there solely to gossip. I soon made up my mind: I took the mattress on my shoulders and I went up with it to the fifth floor. I reached the door of little Marguerite’s bedroom. It was not locked, and yet I dared not go in. I knew that the girl was so poor; and one should be especially careful when dealing with poor people. Perhaps she and her lover would be offended to think that I had ventured to come up. And yet, since she was so ill---- While I was hesitating, standing at the door with the mattress on my shoulders, I heard a shrill voice say: “Send for a doctor, monsieur; I won’t be responsible; you must have a doctor, she needs one very bad.” A very weak voice, which I recognized as the young girl’s, said: “Stay here, Ernest, don’t leave me. I feel better when you are here.” I pushed the door open and dropped the mattress in a corner of the room, saying: “I will go out and call a doctor; stay with her, as it does her good.” “Oh! yes, yes, do go,” said Ernest; “oh! how grateful I shall be to you!” I heard no more; I descended the stairs rapidly and nearly overturned the concierge’s little nephew, who had only reached the third floor with his chair; I believe that the little rascal sat down on it at every landing. At last I was in the street; I ran at random, looking about for some shop that was still open, where I could inquire if there was a doctor in the neighborhood. Where should I apply? Everybody was in bed; I saw many midwives’ signs, but a midwife was not what I wanted. I ventured to ring at several doors; I jerked the bells and made an infernal noise. “Who is there?” the concierges asked me; and I shouted: “Isn’t there a doctor in the house?” They answered me with abuse, or not at all; people are not polite when they want to sleep. I knew two doctors, but they lived so far away that the poor child would have time to die before they could get to her. What was I to do? I did not wish to return alone. I was tempted to cry fire. That method, which has been employed in several plays, might serve in real life as well; one always has to frighten one’s fellow-citizens, to obtain anything from them. Then, when everybody had come to the windows, I would call for a doctor.