AS THE days passed M. Vulfran became very weak. At last he was confined to his room with a serious attack of bronchitis, and the entire management of the works was given over to Talouel, who was triumphant.

When he recovered he was in such a state of apathy that it was alarming. They could not rouse him; nothing seemed to interest him, not even his business. Previously they had feared the effect a shock would have on his system, but now the doctors desired it, for it seemed that only a great shock could drag him out of this terrible condition. What could they do?

After a time he returned to his business, but he scarcely took account of what Talouel had done during his absence. His manager, however, had been too clever and shrewd to take any steps that his employer would not have taken himself.

Every day Perrine took him to his various factories, but the drives were made in silence now. Frequently he did not reply to the remarks she made from time to time, and when he reached the works he scarcely listened to what his men had to say.

"Do what you think best," he said always. "Arrange the matter with Talouel."

How long would this apathy last?

One afternoon, when old Coco was bringing them back to Maraucourt, they heard a bell ringing.

"Stop," he said; "I think that's the fire alarm."

Perrine stopped the horse.

"Yes, it's a fire," he said, listening. "Do you see anything?"

"I can see a lot of black smoke over by the poplars on the left," replied Perrine.

"On the left? That is the way to the factory."

"Yes; shall I drive that way?" asked Perrine.

"Yes," replied M. Vulfran, indifferently.

It was not until they reached the village that they knew where the fire was.

"Don't hurry, M. Vulfran," called out a peasant; "the fire ain't in your house. It's La Tiburce's house that's on fire."

La Tiburce was a drunken creature who minded little babies who were too young to be taken to the crÈche. She lived in a miserable tumble-down house near the schools.

"Let us go there," said M. Vulfran.

They had only to follow the crowd, for the people, when they saw the flames and smoke rising, were running excitedly to the spot where the fire was. Before reaching the scene Perrine had to stop several times for fear of running someone down. Nothing in the world would have made the people get out of their way. Finally M. Vulfran got out of the carriage and, guided by Perrine, walked through the crowd. As they neared the entrance to the house, Fabry, wearing a helmet, for he was chief of the firemen, came up to them.

"We've got it under control," he said, "but the house is entirely burnt, and what's worse, several children, five or six, perhaps, are lost. One is buried beneath, two have been suffocated, and we don't know where the other three are."

"How did it happen?" asked M. Vulfran.

"La Tiburce was asleep, drunk. She is still in that condition. The biggest of the children were playing with the matches. When the fire began to flare up some of the children got out, and La Tiburce woke up. She is so drunk she got out herself but left the little ones in the cradle."

The sound of cries and loud talking could be heard in the yard. M. Vulfran wanted to go in.

"Don't go in there, sir," said Fabry. "The mothers whose two children were suffocated are carrying on pretty badly."

"Who are they?"

"Two women who work in your factory."

"I must speak to them."

Leaning on Perrine's shoulder, he told her to guide him. Preceded by Fabry, who made way for them, they went into the yard where the firemen were turning the hose on the house as the flames burst forth in a crackling sound.

In a far-off corner several women stood round the two mothers who were crying. Fabry brushed aside the group. M. Vulfran went up to the bereaved parents, who sat with their dead children on their knees. Then one of the women, who thought perhaps that a supreme help had come, looked up with a gleam of hope in her eyes. When she recognized M. Vulfran she raised her arm to him threateningly.

"Ah," she cried, "come and see for yourself what they do to our babies while we are sweating and killing ourselves for you. Can you give us back their lives? Oh, my little boy."

She burst into sobs as she bent over her child.

M. Vulfran hesitated for a moment; then he turned to Fabry and said:

"You are right; let us go."

They returned to the offices. After a time Talouel came to tell his employer that out of the six children that they had thought were dead, three had been found in the homes of neighbors, where they had been carried when the fire first broke out. The burial for the other three tiny victims was to take place the next day.

When Talouel had gone, Perrine, who had been very thoughtful, decided to speak to M. Vulfran.

"Are you not going to the burial service of these little babies?" she asked. Her trembling voice betrayed her emotion.

"Why should I go?" asked M. Vulfran.

"Because that would be the most dignified answer you could give to what that poor woman said."

"Did my work people come to the burial service of my son?" asked M. Vulfran, coldly.

"They did not share your sorrow," said Perrine gravely, "but if you share theirs now they will be touched."

"You don't know how ungrateful the workingman is."

"Ungrateful! For what? The money they receive? They consider that they have a right to the money they earn. It is theirs. Would they show ingratitude if an interest was taken in them, if a little friendly help was given them? Perhaps it would not be the same, do you think so? Friendship creates friendship. One often loves when one knows one is loved, and it seems to me that when we are friendly to others, we make friends ourselves. It means so much to lighten the burdens of the poor, but how much more is it to lighten their sorrows ... by helping to share them."

It seemed to her that she had still so much to say on this subject, but M. Vulfran did not reply. He did not even appear to be listening to her, and she was afraid to say more. Later she might make another attempt.

As they left the office M. Vulfran turned to Talouel, who was standing on the steps, and said:

"Tell the priest to arrange a suitable burial for the three children. It will be at my expense and I shall be there."

Talouel jumped.

"And let everyone know," continued M. Vulfran, "that all who wish to go to the church tomorrow, can take the time off. This fire is a great misfortune."

"We are not responsible for it," said Talouel.

"Not directly ... no," said M. Vulfran.

Perrine had another surprise the next morning. After the mail had been opened and the replies dictated, M. Vulfran detained Fabry and said: "I want you to start for Rouen. I think you can spare the time. I have heard that they have built a model crÈche there. It is not built by the town, but someone has had it built to the memory of one whom they have lost. I want you to see how this is made. Study it in all its details—the construction, heating and ventilation and the expense of keeping it up. In three months we must have a crÈche at the entrance of all my factories. I don't want such a calamity as that which occurred yesterday to take place again. I rely upon you and the responsibility is upon you now."

That evening Perrine told the great news to her governess, who was delighted. While they were talking about it, M. Vulfran came into the room.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "I have come to ask a favor of you in the name of all the village. It is a big favor. It may mean a great sacrifice on your part. This is it."

In a few words he outlined the request he had to make. It was that mademoiselle should send in her resignation at the schools and take charge of the five crÈches which he was going to build. He knew of no one who was capable of taking on their shoulders such a big burden. He would donate a crÈche to each village and endow it with sufficient capital to keep up its maintenance.

Although Mlle. Belhomme loved to teach, and it would be indeed a sacrifice for her to give up her school, she felt, after she had talked with the blind man, that it was here where her duty lay. It was indeed a great work that she was called upon to do, and she would enter upon her task with all the enthusiasm of which her big heart was capable.

"This is a great thing you are doing, Monsieur Vulfran," she said, with tears in her eyes, "and I will do all I can to make this work a success."

"It is your pupil one must thank for it," said the blind man, "not I. Her words and suggestions have awakened something in my heart. I have stepped out on a new road. I am only at the first steps. It is nothing compared with what I intend to do."

"Oh, please," said Perrine, her eyes bright with delight and pride, "if you still want to do something...."

"What is it?" he asked with a smile.

"I want to take you somewhere ... tonight."

"What do you mean? Where do you want to take me?" asked the blind man, mystified.

"To a place where your presence only for a few moments will bring about extraordinary results," said Perrine.

"Well, can't you tell me where this mysterious place is?" asked M. Vulfran.

"But if I tell you, your visit will not have the same effect. It will be a failure. It will be a fine evening and warm, and I am sure that you will not take cold. Please say you will go!"

"I think one could have confidence in her," said Mademoiselle Belhomme, "although her request seems a little strange and childish."

"Well," said M. Vulfran, indulgently, "I'll do as you wish, Aurelie. Now at what hour are we to start on this adventure?"

"The later it is the better it will be," said Perrine.

During the evening he spoke several times of the outing they were to have, but Perrine would not explain.

"Do you know, little girl, you have aroused my curiosity?" he said at last.

"I am glad you are interested," she said gravely. "There is so much that can be done in the future. Do not look back to the past any more."

"The future is empty for me," said the blind man bitterly.

"Oh, no; it is not," said Perrine, lifting her lovely face to his. Her eyes were shining with a beautiful light. "It will not be empty if you think of others. When one is a child, and not very happy, one often thinks that if a wonderful fairy came to them, of what beautiful things they would ask. But if one is the fairy, or rather the magician oneself, and can do all the wonderful things alone, wouldn't it be splendid to use one's power?..."

The evening passed. Several times the blind man asked if it were not time to start, but Perrine delayed as long as possible.

At last she said that she thought they could start. The night was warm, no breeze, no mists. The atmosphere was a trifle heavy and the sky dark.

When they reached the village it was all quiet. All seemed to sleep. Not a light shone from the windows.

The dark night made no difference to the blind man. As they walked along the road from the chateau he knew exactly where he was.

"We must be nearing FranÇoise's house," he said, after they had walked a little distance.

"That is just where we are going," said Perrine. "We are there now. Let me take your hand and guide you, and please don't speak. We have some stairs to go up, but they are quite easy and straight. When we get to the top of these stairs I shall open a door and we shall go into a room for just one moment."

"What do you want me to see ... when I can't see anything?" he said.

"There will be no need for you to see," replied Perrine.

"Then why come?"

"I want you here," said Perrine earnestly. "Here are the stairs. Now step up, please."

They climbed up the stairs and Perrine opened a door and gently drew M. Vulfran inside a room and closed the door again.

They stood in a suffocating, evil-smelling room.

"Who is there?" asked a weary voice.

Pressing his hand, Perrine warned M. Vulfran not to speak.

The same voice spoke:

"Get into bed, La Noyelle. How late you are."

This time M. Vulfran clasped Perrine's hand in a sign for them to leave the place.

She opened the door and they went down, while a murmur of voices accompanied them. When they reached the street M. Vulfran spoke: "You wanted me to know what that room was the first night when you slept there?"

"I wanted you to know what kind of a place all the women who work for you have to sleep in. They are all alike in Maraucourt and the other villages. You have stood in one of these dreadful rooms; all the others are like it. Think of your women and children, your factory hands, who are breathing that poisoned air. They are slowly dying. They are almost all weak and sick."

M. Vulfran was silent. He did not speak again, neither did Perrine. When they entered the hall he bade her good night, and guided by Bastien, he went to his own room.