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He quitted the room, and Helene then sat down. Immediately afterwards Mother Fetu returned with many protestations: "Oh! oh! I can scarcely crawl; such a faintness came over me! Has the dear good doctor gone? Well, to be sure, there's not much comfort here! Oh, you are both angels from heaven, coming to spend your time with one so unfortunate as myself! But God in His goodness will requite you.
"The people of Acron husband their grounds and time so well, that every year produces a plentiful harvest." Speaking of the Fetu country, he says, "Frequently, when walking through it, I have seen it abound with fine well built and populous towns, agreeably enriched with vast quantities of corn and cattle, palm-wine and oil.
Last summer he had again gone on a journey with his wife. Their boy was thriving; he was a fine child. But just then Helene's fingers, as she opened the purse, began to tremble, and Mother Fetu immediately changed her tone. In her stupidity and bewilderment she had only now realized that the good lady was standing beside her daughter's grave.
"What do you want to ask me?" she at last said to Mother Fetu. The old lady made no immediate reply. She was scrutinizing the room, with its rosewood furniture and blue velvet hangings. Then, with the humble and fawning air of a pauper, she muttered: "Pardon me, madame, but everything is so beautiful here. My gentleman has a room like this, but it's all in pink. Oh! it's such a story!
"Ah, my good lady, what a time it is since I had the happiness of seeing you!" It was Mother Fetu, who was soliciting alms at the church door. Barring Helene's way, as though she had lain in wait for her, she went on: "Oh, I have been so very ill always here, in the stomach, you know. Just now I feel as if a hammer were pounding away inside me; and I have nothing at all, my good lady.
All three paced on slowly through the warm spring night, which was steeping them in its odors, and Jeanne, with childish artlessness, raised her face to the heavens, and exclaimed: "Oh, mamma, see what a number of stars!" But behind them, like an echo of their own, came the footfall of Mother Fetu.
Helene was awaking from her dream when she observed a beggar-woman crawling along near her. It was Mother Fetu, the snow deadening the sound of her huge man's boots, which were burst and bound round with bits of string. Never had Helene seen her weighed down by such intense misery, or covered with filthier rags, though she was fatter than ever, and wore a stupid look.
Seven months had come and gone, and every day, when the great red sun sank behind the thick line of palms that studded the western shore of Nukufetau, Fetu and Vailele would run to a tall and slender fau tree that grew on their mother's land, and cut on its dark brown bark a broad notch. "Aue!" said the quiet Fetu. "Cut thou a fresh one above.
"Mamma, mamma!" she cried; "she made me say an Ave; she says it will bring you good luck." The three then turned into the Rue Vineuse, while Mother Fetu crept down the steps of the Passage des Eaux, busy completing her rosary. The month slipped away. Two or three more services were attended by Madame Deberle. One Sunday, the last one, Henri once more ventured to wait for Helene and Jeanne.
It was Mother Fetu, but Mother Fetu transformed, magnificent in a clean white cap, a new gown, and tartan shawl wrapped round her shoulders. Her voice, however, still retained its plaintive tone of entreaty. "Dear lady, it's only I, who have taken the liberty of calling to ask you about something!" Helene gazed at her, somewhat surprised by her display of finery. "Are you better, Mother Fetu?"
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