ill not
go to sleep again."

He was only fifteen months old, and slept in a room opening out of hers,
so that she might be able to hear him.

The Captain exclaimed, ardently:

"What does it matter, Matilda? How I love you; you must come to me,
Matilda."

But she struggled, and resisted in her fright.

"No! no! Just listen how he is crying; he will wake up the nurse, and
what should we do if she were to come? We should be lost. Just listen to
me, Etienne. When he screams at night his father always takes him into
our bed, and he is quiet immediately; it is the only means of keeping
him still. Do let me take him...."

The child roared, uttered shrill screams, which pierced the thickest
walls, so as to be heard by passers-by in the streets.

In his consternation, the Captain got up, and Matilda jumped out and
took the child into her bed, when he was quiet at once.

Etienne sat astride on a chair, and made a cigarette, and in about five
minutes Andrew went to sleep again.

"I will take him back," his mother said; and she took him back very
carefully to his bed.

When she returned, the Captain was waiting for her with open arms, and
put his arms round her in a transport of love, while she, embracing him
more closely, said, stammering:

"Oh! Etienne, my darling, if you only knew how I love you; how...."

Andrew began to cry again, and he, in a rage, exclaimed:

"Confound it all, won't the little brute be quiet?"

No, the little brute would not be quiet, but howled all the louder, on
the contrary.

She thought she heard a noise downstairs; no doubt the nurse was coming,
so she jumped up, and took the child into bed, and he grew quiet
directly.

Three times she put him back, and three times she had to fetch him
again, and an hour before daybreak the Captain had to go, swearing like
the proverbial trooper; and, to calm his impatience, Matilda promised to
receive him again the next night.

Of course he came, more impatient and ardent than ever, excited by the
delay.

He took care to put his sword carefully into a corner; he took off his
boots like a thief, and spoke so low that Matilda could hardly hear him.
At last, he was just going to be really happy when the floor, or some
piece of furniture, or perhaps the bed itself, creaked; it sounded as
if something had broken; and in a moment a cry, feeble at first, but
which grew louder every moment, made itself heard. Andrew was awake
again.

He _yapped_ like