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Updated: July 28, 2025
" And M. Duplanty suggests that you should have Mme. Cantinet " "Oh! Mme. Cantinet who lets the chairs!" exclaimed Pons. "Yes, she is an excellent creature." "She has no liking for Mme. Cibot," continued the doctor, "and she would take good care of M. Schmucke " "Send her to me, M. Duplanty . . . send her and her husband too. I shall be easy. Nothing will be stolen here."
You will send a priest, no doubt, to watch to-night. But it is time that Mme. Cantinet came, as well as a woman to do the work, for M. Schmucke is quite unfit to think of anything: I am afraid for his reason; and there are valuables here which ought to be in the custody of honest persons." The Abbe Duplanty, a kindly, upright priest, guileless and unsuspicious, was struck with the truth of Dr.
Towards two o'clock, however, as nothing had been seen of the old German, La Cibot sent Remonencq's sister to see whether Schmucke wanted anything; prompted not so much by interest as by curiosity. The Abbe Duplanty had just heard the old musician's dying confession, and the administration of the sacrament of extreme unction was disturbed by repeated ringing of the door-bell.
Sauvage with her, and to put in Fraisier's servant was almost tantamount to installing Fraisier himself. The Abbe Duplanty, coming downstairs, found the gateway blocked by the Cibots' friends, all of them bent upon showing their interest in one of the oldest and most respectable porters in the Marais. Dr. Poulain raised his hat, and took the Abbe aside.
Schmucke had taken Pons' hand again, and held it joyously in his own. Pons was almost well again, he thought. "Let us go, Monsieur l'Abbe," said the doctor. "I will send Mme. Cantinet round at once. I see how it is. She perhaps may not find M. Pons alive." While the Abbe Duplanty was persuading Pons to engage Mme. Cantinet as his nurse, Fraisier had sent for her.
I say, Cantinet," continued the doctor, beckoning to the beadle, "just go and ask your wife if she will nurse M. Pons, and look after M. Schmucke, and take Mme. Cibot's place for a day or two. . . . Even without the quarrel, Mme. Cibot would still require a substitute. Mme. Cantinet is honest," added the doctor, turning to M. Duplanty.
Schmucke almost died of sorrow, but he took Pons' hand and softly kissed it, and held it between his own, as if trying a second time to give his own vitality to his friend. Just at this moment the bell rang, and Dr. Poulain, going to the door, admitted the Abbe Duplanty. "Our poor patient is struggling in the grasp of death," he said. "All will be over in a few hours.
Towards two o'clock, however, as nothing had been seen of the old German, La Cibot sent Remonencq's sister to see whether Schmucke wanted anything; prompted not so much by interest as by curiosity. The Abbe Duplanty had just heard the old musician's dying confession, and the administration of the sacrament of extreme unction was disturbed by repeated ringing of the door-bell.
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