se to pass. No one knew its exact nature, but now and again,
in long years, some one going to Dalgrothe Mountain was seized by it,
and died, or was left stricken with a great loss of the senses, or the
limbs. Yet once or twice, they said, men had come up from it no worse
at all. There was no known cure, and the Little Chemist could only watch
the swift progress of the fever, and use simple remedies to allay the
suffering. Parpon knew that the disease had seized upon Valmond the
night of the burial of Gabriel. He remembered now the sickly, pungent
air that floated past, and how Valmond, weak from the loss of blood in
the fight at the smithy, shuddered, and drew his cloak about him. A few
days would end it, for good or ill.

Madame Chalice heard the news with consternation, and pity would have
sent her to Valmond's bedside, but that she found Elise was his faithful
nurse and servitor. This fixed in her mind the belief that if Valmond
died, he would leave both misery and shame behind; if he lived, she
should, in any case, see him no more. But she sent him wines and
delicacies, and she also despatched a messenger to a city sixty miles
away, for the best physician. Then she sought the avocat, to discover
whether he had any exact information as to Valmond's friends in Quebec,
or in France. She had promised not to be his enemy, and she remembered
with a sort of sorrow that she had told him she meant to be his friend;
but, having promised, she would help him in his sore strait.

She had heard of De la Riviere's visit to Valmond, and she intended
sending for him, but delayed it. The avocat told her nothing: matters
were in abeyance, and she abided the issue; meanwhile getting news of
the sick man twice a day. More, she used all her influence to keep up
the feeling for him in the country, to prevent flagging of enthusiasm.
This she did out of a large heart, and a kind of loyalty to her
temperament and to his own ardour for his cause. Until he was proved the
comedian (in spite of the young Seigneur) she would stand by him, so far
as his public career was concerned. Misfortune could not make her turn
from a man; it was then she gave him a helping hand. What was between
him and Elise was for their own souls and consciences.

As she passed the little cottage in the field the third morning of
Valmond's illness, she saw the girl entering. Elise had come to get some
necessaries for Valmond and for her mother. She was pale; her face had