They were all three silent for a moment, and then the old wood-cutter resumed: "Tell my wife that she will find behind the wardrobe my little savings, put away in a stocking. I hoarded it up in case we should either of us fall ill. For me, I have no more need of it." "That we shall see, we shall see;--you may recover yet--poor old fellow! We will carry you away." "No; it's not worth the trouble; I've only an hour longer to live; it would only put me to pain." Materne, without answering, made a sign to Kasper to form a litter with his carbine and his own, and Frantz to place the old wood-cutter upon it, in spite of his remonstrances. Which was immediately done. And in this manner they all arrived at the farm together. All the wounded who, during the combat, had had strength to drag themselves to the hospital, had repaired thither. Doctor Lorquin and his assistant, Despois, who had arrived during the day, were up to their ears in work, and still all was not nearly finished, so much was there to do. As Materne, with his sons and old Rochart, were crossing the dark alley by the light of the lantern, they heard on their left a groan which froze the very marrow in their hones, and the old wood-cutter, half-dead as he was, exclaimed: "Oh! why do you bring me here? I will not--no, I won't! I would rather die at once!" "Open the door, Frantz," said Materne, while a cold sweat stood upon his face--"open, make haste!" And Frantz having pushed the door, they saw on a long kitchen table in the centre of the low apartment, with heavy brown rafters, young Colard, stretched at full length, three candles on each side of him, a man at each arm, and a bucket just under him. Doctor Lorquin, his shirt-sleeves turned up to his elbows, a short saw about three fingers broad in his hand, was just preparing to cut off the poor devil's leg, while Despois was holding a large sponge. The blood was splashing down into the bucket. Colard was as pale as death. Catherine Lefévre, standing beside him with a roll of lint over her arm, was striving to be firm, but two deep wrinkles that furrowed her cheeks by the side of her hooked nose showed how she was clenching her teeth. She was looking down on the ground without seeing anything. "It's all over!" said the doctor, turning round. And casting a glance at the new comers, he said: "Ah! is that you, old Rochart?" "Yes, that's me; but I don't want any one to meddle with me; I'd rather stay as I am." The doctor, taking up a candle, looked at him, and made a wry face. "It's time you were seen to, my poor old fellow; you've lost a deal of blood already, and if we wait much longer it will be too late." "So much the better; I've suffered enough in my time."