lled the soul.

"It is the swan's song," said Benassis. "That voice does not sound twice
in a century for human ears. Let us hurry; we must put a stop to the
singing! The child is killing himself; it would be cruel to listen to
him any longer. Be quiet, Jacques! Come, come, be quiet!" cried the
doctor.

The music ceased. Genestas stood motionless and overcome with
astonishment. A cloud had drifted across the sun, the landscape and the
voice were both mute. Shadow, chillness, and silence had taken the place
of the soft glory of the light, the warm breath of the breeze, and the
child's singing.

"What makes you disobey me?" asked Benassis. "I shall not bring you any
more rice pudding nor snail broth! No more fresh dates and white bread
for you! So you want to die and break your poor mother's heart, do you?"

Genestas came into a little yard, which was sufficiently clean and
tidily kept, and saw before him a lad of fifteen, who looked as delicate
as a woman. His hair was fair but scanty, and the color in his face
was so bright that it seemed hardly natural. He rose up slowly from the
bench where he was sitting, beneath a thick bush of jessamine and some
blossoming lilacs that were running riot, so that he was almost hidden
among the leaves.

"You know very well," said the doctor, "that I told you not to talk, not
to expose yourself to the chilly evening air, and to go to bed as soon
as the sun was set. What put it into your head to sing?"

"_Dame!_ M. Benassis, it was so very warm out here, and it is so nice
to feel warm! I am always cold. I felt so happy that without thinking I
began to try over _Malbrouk s'en va-t-en guerre_, just for fun, and
then I began to listen to myself because my voice was something like the
sound of the flute your shepherd plays."

"Well, my poor Jacques, this must not happen again; do you hear? Let me
have your hand," and the doctor felt his pulse.

The boy's eyes had their usual sweet expression, but just now they shone
with a feverish light.

"It is just as I thought, you are covered with perspiration," said
Benassis. "Your mother has not come in yet?"

"No, sir."

"Come! go in-doors and get into bed."

The young invalid went back into the cottage, followed by Benassis and
the officer.

"Just light a candle, Captain Bluteau," said the doctor, who was helping
Jacques to take off his rough, tattered clothing.

When Genestas had struck a light, and the interior of the room was