Not a friendly face, not a kind look nor an understanding eye! Crime, passion, foulness, insanity. The sheer horror of her situation mercifully blotted out consciousness. She sank, a crumpled heap to the floor. "The girl is sick," said Sister Genevieve, who had entered at this moment and was presently bending over her. "Here, two of you lift her and carry her into the hospital--we shall have the good Doctor from La Force attend her!" Two of the sturdier prisoners bore her away.... Beautiful, pitiful Henriette! The horrors of the madwomen thou facest in Salpetriere; the obscene shouts and curses of the fallen; the fury of the female criminal; the misery of the poor distracted half-wits, where mad and sane are given the same cell:--these shall be but confused phantasmagoria projected on thy sick brain during this prison time before the awful Storm breaks--the lightning strikes--the thunder crashes, and the sharp female called La Guillotine holds thee in its embrace. From the tumbril shalt thou find and kiss the blind girl, and Maurice de Vaudrey shall accompany thee into the Valley of the Shadow! CHAPTER XV LIGHT RAYS IN THE DARKNESS Henriette was nursed through a severe mental and bodily illness by Sister Genevieve directed by the visiting prison Doctor, none other than him who had examined the eyes of Louise before Notre Dame. During this period it was quite impossible for the attendants to get her story. She herself in lucid moments could hardly realize her situation, nor in any wise remember how she had come to it. But one day new strength seemed to be hers. Feverish and with hair unbound and a wild light in her eyes, she sprang out of her cot, sought Genevieve in the main prison, and knelt before her. "Oh, Madame!" cried Henriette in imploring accents, "if you are the mistress here, have pity on me, and order them to set me free. I ask you on my knees!" "You are still ill, my child," said Sister Genevieve tenderly, stroking Henriette's, long hair with a gentle, loving touch. "Certainly you are," confirmed the Doctor, who was just then on his way to the hospital ward. "Why have you left your bed without my permission?" "Oh, monsieur!" said the poor girl, turning to the gentle-voiced, pleasant-faced man who spoke so kindly, "have you attended me in my illness? Look--thanks to your care--I have recovered!" she affirmed confidently, though her hectic features and weak motions belied it. "They left me alone for a few moments, and I arose and dressed myself. Now that you see I am quite well, you will tell them to let me go, will you not?" The Doctor gazed at her compassionately before answering: "That is impossible. To release you from this place requires a far greater power than mine." "This place?" asked the young girl in surprise. "Why, what is it? Is it not a hospital?" "A hospital and a prison," replied the physician gravely.