For Maitre Beauvouloir's safety Nature was merciful. It was more a
miscarriage than a regular birth, and the child was so puny that it
caused little suffering to the mother.

"Holy Virgin!" cried the bonesetter, "it isn't a miscarriage, after
all!"

The count made the floor shake as he stamped with rage. The countess
pinched Beauvouloir.

"Ah! I see!" he said to himself. "It ought to be a premature birth,
ought it?" he whispered to the countess, who replied with an
affirmative sign, as if that gesture were the only language in which
to express her thoughts.

"It is not all clear to me yet," thought the bonesetter.

Like all men in constant practice, he recognized at once a woman in
her first trouble as he called it. Though the modest inexperience of
certain gestures showed him the virgin ignorance of the countess, the
mischievous operator exclaimed:--

"Madame is delivered as if she knew all about it!"

The count then said, with a calmness more terrifying than his anger:--

"Give me the child."

"Don't give it him, for the love of God!" cried the mother, whose