ake Norine's child to the
Foundling Hospital if she did not take it to Rougemont.

"And so," said La Couteau, turning to Madame Bourdieu, "I shall have
only the other lady's child to take back with me. Well, I had better
see her at once to make final arrangements. Then I'll take this one
and carry it yonder as fast as possible, for my train starts at six
o'clock."

When La Couteau and Madame Bourdieu had gone off to speak to Rosine, who
was the "other lady" referred to, the room sank into silence save for
the wailing and sobbing of Norine. Mathieu had seated himself near the
cradle, gazing compassionately at the poor little babe, who was still
peacefully sleeping. Soon, however, Victoire, the little servant girl,
who had hitherto remained silent, as if absorbed in her sewing, broke
the heavy silence and talked on slowly and interminably without raising
her eyes from her needle.

"You were quite right in not trusting your child to that horrid woman!"
she began. "Whatever may be done with him at the hospital, he will be
better off there than in her hands. At least he will have a chance to
live. And that's why I insisted, like you, on having mine taken there
at once. You know I belong in that woman's region--yes, I come from
Berville, which is barely four miles from Rougemont, and I can't help
knowing La Couteau, for folks talk enough about her in our village.
She's a nice creature and no mistake! And it's a fine trade that she
plies, selling other people's milk. She was no better than she should
be at one time, but at last she was lucky enough to marry a big, coarse,
brutal fellow, whom at this time of day she leads by the nose. And he
helps her. Yes, he also brings nurses to Paris and takes babies back
with him, at busy times. But between them they have more murders
on their consciences than all the assassins that have ever been
guillotined. The mayor of Berville, a bourgeois who's retired from
business and a worthy man, said that Rougemont was the curse of the
Department. I know well enough that there's always been some rivalry
between Rougemont and Berville; but, the folks of Rougemont ply a wicked
trade with the babies they get from Paris. All the inhabitants have
ended by taking to it, there's nothing else doing in the whole village,
and you should just see how things are arranged so that there may be
as many funerals as possible. Ah! yes, people don't keep their
stock-in-trade on their hands. The more that die, t