dignity.

"Mother," I said, "have you any simples to send this poor girl to sleep?
Tardif told me you had taken her sprained ankle under your charge. I
find I have nothing with me to induce sleep, and you can help us if any
one can."

"Leave her to me, my dear little doctor," she answered, a laugh gurgling
in her thick throat; "leave her to me. You have done your part with the
bones. I have no touch at all for broken limbs, though my father, good
man, could handle them with any doctor in all the islands. But I'll send
her to sleep for you, never fear."

"You will stay with us all night?" I said, coaxingly. "Suzanne is deaf,
and ears are of use in a sick-room, you know. I intended to go to
Gavey's, but I shall throw myself down here on the fern bed, and you can
call me at any moment, if there is need."

"There will be no need," she replied, in a tone of confidence. "My
little mam'zelle will be sound asleep in ten minutes after she has taken
my draught."

I went into the room with her to have a look at our patient. She had not
stirred yet, but was precisely in the position in which I placed her
after the operation was ended. There was something peculiar about this
which distressed me. I asked Mother Renouf to move her gently and bring
her face more toward me. The burning eyes opened widely as soon as she
felt the old woman's arm under her, and she looked up, with a flash of
intelligence, into my face. I stooped down to catch the whisper with
which her lips were moving.