And now I think we ought to take him to the
Cardinal."
Martine shook her head, pursed up her lips, and knitted more
violently than ever.
"It is all no use--no use!" she muttered--"There is no God,--or if
there is, He must be deaf as well as blind!"
But here suddenly the weak plaintive voice of Fabien himself piped
out--
"Oh, mother, let me go!"
Martine looked down at him.
"Let thee go? To see the Cardinal? Why he is nought but an old man,
child, as helpless as any of us. What dost thou think he can do for
thee?"
"Nothing!" and the boy clambered up on his crutch, and stood
appealingly before his mother, his fair curls blowing back in the
breeze,--"But I SHOULD like to see him. Oh, do let me go!"
Babette caught him by the hand.
"Yes, oh yes, Martine!" she exclaimed--"Let him come with us!"
Martine hesitated a moment longer, but she could never altogether
resist an imploring look in her boy's eyes, or refuse any request he
made of her,--and gradually the hard lines of her mouth relaxed into
a half smile. Babette at once perceived this, and eagerly accepted
it as a sign that she had gained her point.
"Come, Fabien!" she exclaimed delightedly--"Thy mother says yes! We
will not be long gone, Martine! And perhaps we will bring him home
quite well!"
Martine shook her head sorrowfully, and paused for a while in her
knitting to watch the three children crossing the market-place
together, Henri supporting her little son on one side, Babette on
the other, both carefully aiding his slow and halting movements over
the rough cobbles of the uneven pavement.
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