Ernest hastily fetched the bellows, and handed them to the woman; then he returned to the bed, saying:
"You must know, my love, that I shall not leave you. But here is Monsieur Blémont, who was good enough to go out to call a doctor, when he came up an hour ago; we haven't so much as thought of thanking him."
"Ah! that is true, my dear.--I beg pardon, monsieur, pray excuse me; but I was in such pain then----"
"You owe me no thanks, for it was not I who found your doctor."
"No matter," said Ernest, "you showed some interest in us, and I shall never forget it."
"What a miserable pair of bellows! Not two sous' worth of wind! it must be pleasant here in freezing weather!"
I turned toward the woman; I should have liked to impose silence upon her, for it seemed to me that her indiscreet remarks must be painful to the two lovers. But I was mistaken; they were not listening to her. Ernest was holding his darling's hand, and she was gazing lovingly into his eyes; after their fear of an eternal separation, it seemed to them that they had recovered each other. They were entirely absorbed in their love. But Marguerite sighed, and after a moment I heard her whisper to Ernest:
Poor child! although hardly able to keep herself alive, she wanted a child, because every woman is proud to be a mother, and a child is an additional bond between her and her lover.
I was about to leave them when there was a loud noise outside; it was a crash of broken glass, and it seemed to be on the roof near the window of the chamber in which we were.
The midwife uttered a cry of terror, and ran behind me, exclaiming:
"It's thieves! did you hear, monsieur? They're coming in the window. We must rouse the whole house."
I confess that I shared the opinion of the nurse, and I was about to open the window to see what was afoot, when Marguerite, who, instead of showing signs of alarm, had smiled faintly, motioned to me to stop, and said to us:
"Don't be alarmed, I know what it is; I am used to that noise now; it is my neighbor, Monsieur Pettermann, going into his room."
"Who on earth is Monsieur Pettermann, and why does he make such a noise going into his room?" asked the midwife.
"Monsieur Pettermann is a tailor, and works in his room; but he gets drunk at least three times a week; on those days he always loses his door key; then he climbs out on the gutter under the window of the landing and crawls along, at the risk of breaking his neck, to his own window, puts his fist through a pane so that he can throw back the catch, and gets into his room that way. Ask Ernest if we haven't heard him do it more than a dozen times."