"Everybody in the village ran to the cottage, of course, monsieur. They couldn't save the house, but they must save the children, anyway. They succeeded, by taking great risks, in getting into Sister Anne's room. They found her with her brother under their mother's bed; she was holding him tight against her breast, trying to save him from death; but it was no use; the poor little fellow was dead! Sister Anne had only fainted, and they succeeded in bringing her back to life.--But just imagine how surprised and grieved everybody was, monsieur, when they found that the terrible shock had made her dumb!--She opened her mouth, but could only make a sort of low, moaning noise. Since then, the poor girl has never spoken a word!" "Great God!" cried Frédéric; "poor child! so that is the cause of the melancholy expression of her lovely face!" "Yes, monsieur," resumed the boy; "Sister Anne is dumb; all that has been done since then to make her able to speak hasn't done any good. The city doctors said that the horrible fright, and her agony at seeing her brother die and not being able to save him, had taken away the power of speech, and that the same kind of shock might give it back to her, perhaps, but nothing else could. But the poor little girl still had a heart to feel her sorrow; she succeeded in making people understand all she had suffered. For ever so many years, she mourned for her brother and her mother; for poor Clotilde gave way to her grief the same night that was so fatal to her children, and they found her dead on top of the mountain, at the foot of the tree. "The burning of the little cottage deprived Anne of her only place of shelter. But everybody in the village subscribed to help her; and a good woman named Marguerite, who lives in a little cabin in the woods, near the valley, took her in and adopted her. Marguerite was poor, too; but with the money collected from the richest people in the village, Anne bought a cow and a number of goats.