Madame de Fleury

CHAPTER I

"There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall--
How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?"--POPE

"D'abord, madame, c'est impossible!--Madame ne descendra pas ici?" said
Francois, the footman of Madame de Fleury, with a half expostulatory,
half indignant look, as he let down the step of her carriage at the
entrance of a dirty passage, that led to one of the most
miserable-looking houses in Paris.

"But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this house?" said
Madame de Fleury.

"'Tis only some child who is crying," replied Francois; and he would have
put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.

"'Tis nothing in the world," continued he, with a look of appeal to the
coachman, "it _can_ be nothing, but some children who are locked up there
above. The mother, the workwoman my lady wants, is not at home: that's
certain."

"I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children" said
Madame de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.

Francois held his arm for his lady as she got out.

"Bon!" cried he, with an air of vexation. "Si madame la vent absolument,
a la bonne heure!--Mais madame sera abimee. Madame verra que j'ai
raison. Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain escalier. D'ailleurs c'est
au cinquieme. Mais, madame, c'est impossible."

Notwithstanding the impossibility, Madame de Fleury proceeded; and
bidding her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up the
dark, dirty, broken staircase, the sound of the cries increasing every
instant, till, as she reached the fifth storey, she heard the shrieks of
one in violent pain. She hastened to the door of the room from which the
cries proceeded; the door was fastened, and the noise was so great that,
though she knocked as loud as she was able, she could not immediately
make herself heard. At last the voice of a child from within answered,
"The door is locked--mamma has the key in her pocket, and won't be home
till night; and here's Victoire has tumbled from the top of the big
press, and it is she that is shrieking so."

Madame de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with so much
difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the entry,
despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to obtain from some
people who lodged in the house assistance to force open the door of the
room in which the children were confined.

On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly that he
did not hear the screams of the children. When his door was pushed open,
and the bright vision of Madame de