faltered nor trembled, and when she spoke her voice
sounded cold, for some anguish defies all human
expression.
fiLpup, go at once for the doctor, my child/ Then:
CI think we must try to get him upstairs. Run, Anfos,
and ask Eusebe to help us.5
Pale to the lips Loup hurried away, glad of any
excuse to escape from his father's face, for now there
was blood on the beard; Jouse had grazed his chin
badly in falling.
Poor Anfos dashed headlong across the road:
'Gome . . . come . . . come and help us, she says/
he spluttered, tugging at Eusebe's sleeve and forgetting
his erstwhile fear of the man in his eagerness to make
him move faster; cso big, so big, so enormous, so ...
quiet/ And Anfos suddenly started to sob, while
keeping his grip on the grimy sleeve as he dragged its
owner towards the doorway.
In this fashion they returned to the Benedit's house,
Eusebe protesting and Anfos sobbing. But when
Eusebe saw what had occurred he flung out his arms:
4Houi!' he exclaimed, his black eye very wise and full
of compassion. cHoui! Now here is a terrible thing to
have happened to so good and stalwart a fellow!'
And because he was deeply distressed, he spat*
CI would wish to get Jouse to bed,3 Marie told
him.
So Eusebe seized Jouse's thick shoulders and tugged,
tripped over his long leather apron, cursed loudly and
started to tug again.
'Ah, but gently . . . move him gently/ begged
Ghristophe, going to the small sandal-maker's aid,
as did Marie and the still weeping apprentice.
How they finally got Jouse up the steep stairs Marie
never knew, for her husband's weight seemed incred-
ible, unendurable almost. His head drooped limply,
jerking a little from time to time with their stumbling
33*