to leave Jeanne in
the house, as the child had been troubled with fits of shivering since
paying a visit of charity to an old man who had become paralyzed. Once
out of doors, she followed the Rue Vineuse, turned down the Rue
Raynouard, and soon found herself in the Passage des Eaux, a strange,
steep lane, like a staircase, pent between garden walls, and
conducting from the heights of Passy to the quay. At the bottom of
this descent was a dilapidated house, where Mother Fetu lived in an
attic lighted by a round window, and furnished with a wretched bed, a
rickety table, and a seatless chair.

"Oh! my good lady, my good lady!" she moaned out, directly she saw
Helene enter.

The old woman was in bed. In spite of her wretchedness, her body was
plump, swollen out, as it were, while her face was puffy, and her
hands seemed numbed as she drew the tattered sheet over her. She had
small, keen eyes and a whimpering voice, and displayed a noisy
humility in a rush of words.

"Ah! my good lady, how I thank you! Ah, ah! oh, how I suffer! It's
just as if dogs were tearing at my side. I'm sure I have a beast
inside me--see, just there! The skin isn't broken; the complaint is
internal. But, oh! oh! the pain hasn't ceased for two days past. Good
Lord, how is it possible to suffer so much? Ah, my good lady, thank
you! You don't forget the poor. It will be taken into account up
above; yes, yes, it will be taken into account!"

Helene had sat down. Noticing on the table a jug of warm _tisane_, she
filled a cup which was near at hand, and gave it to the sufferer. Near
the jug were placed a packet of sugar, two oranges, and some other
comfits.

"Has any one been to see you?" Helene asked.

"Yes, yes,--a little lady. But she doesn't know. That isn't the sort
of stuff I need. Oh, if I could get a little meat! My next-door
neighbor would cook it for me. Oh! oh! this pain is something
dreadful! A dog is tearing at me--oh, if only I had some broth!"

In spite of the pains which were racking her limbs, she kept her sharp
eyes fixed on Helene, who was now busy fumbling in her pocket, and on
seeing her visitor place a ten-franc piece on the table, she whimpered
all the more, and tried to rise to a sitting posture. Whilst
struggling, she extended her arm, and the money vanished, as she
repeated:

"Gracious Heaven! this is another frightful attack. Oh! oh! I cannot
stand such agony any longer! God will requite you, my good lady; I
will pray