the miraculous ointment that she put on his^knees
when he scraped them, that she had put on his father's
thumb when a chisel had slipped and cut it last
winter; the ointment that had driven away the large
boil which Anfos had recently had on his neck? But
he knew beforehand that she would refuse. Had she
not refused to give it already? Had she not said that
the chemist was unpaid? And now there was still
more to pay to the chemist.
For three nights Christophe sternly examined his
conscience: It is theft,' he told himself, greatly
troubled, 'and theft is a very deadly sin.'
The third night he heard the voice of Mireio.
The shed in the yard where Mireio slept was just
to the side of his attic window, and Mireio was
whining because of her pain, whining, and turning
restlessly — he could hear the unhappy thuds of her
body. Then Christophe knew that he meant to steal.
;I am coming,' he muttered, 'only be patient.'
With pounding heart he crept down the stairs; he
felt cold and rather sick, but courageous. His bare
feet fell softly yet the woodwork creaked twice, so
that he had to stand still, scarcely breathing. Pre-
sently he went on again, reassured; Loup was the
danger, he slept with Anfos and sometimes his wheez-
ing kept them both awake, but perhaps they would be
sleeping soundly by now — it was nearly three o'clock
in the morning. When he reached the kitchen a shaft
of bright moonlight made it easy to find the key of the
cupboard; he knew where it was, in his mother's
work-basket. He took it, unlocked the cupboard,
snatched the ointment, and quickly relocked the
cupboard again; after which he put the key back in its
place, and cautiously unbolting the door into the
yard, stole round to the shed where Mireio lay whining.
His footsteps had made no sound on the path,
but the bitch must have heard them by intuition, for
150