at once, taking a woman
with him, who, as soon as she learned she had to deal with the "Pic"
ran screaming from the house, thus clearing up the mystery of the
Archambaults.

"They knew," said Ringfield, "and I didn't. But I guessed something of
the kind and took the only precaution open to me. I washed in pure
water. And now what are we to do? Has M. Clairville no one belonging
to him but his sister?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Dr. Renaud, who spoke good English, "and we
do not wish her to return."

"Certainly not."

"Then I can only think of one person in the village."

"A nurse?"

"Not a professional nurse, but, as I say, the only person I know of
close at hand who can do what is necessary until we get a nurse, if the
man lives to require one. A male nurse would be better, but who is
there here? No. I am thinking of the right one if I can only get her,
if I can only get her?"

"She lives in the village?" Ringfield was curious; he thought he had
met every one in the village, yet here was some paragon of female
skill, virtue and strength with whom he was not acquainted.

"You must have met her. Of course you know her. I speak of Mme.
Poussette. Ah! You shall smile and you shall frown, but you shall see
what a miracle she can work! You shall yet envy this sick seigneur.
Madame is noted for her care of the sick and dying. You are surprised?
Yes?"

"I cannot help it. Anyone would be. She looks so frail, so delicate,
and surely she is also what we call afflicted, peculiar. Is she a fit
and sensible person for a case like this?"

"Ah! Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the doctor with a slight impatience. "These
afflicted ones, these peculiar ones--they are still capable of
something. Many times have I seen it; the old, old tottering
_grandmere_, the crazy aunt, the bad-tempered husband, even the
inebriate, can find, when they are guided, work which suits and
maintains them. Even when the mind is shaken, if it is only a little,
just a little, to care for others, a bird or a cat, or a sick person,
this will keep the wits steady. A case like this moreover!" repeated
Dr. Renaud, laying his finger to his nose. He was round, jolly,
bow-legged, and brusque, with pronounced features overstrong for his
height, merry eyes, and a red birthmark. "This is the case. We are,
you and I and presently Father Rielle, responsible for M. Clairville.
He must not be moved except to his bed; he is too far gone for more.