important to see the poultice applied than to obey her godfather’s orders.
“The letter! the letter!” cried the old man in dying tones, “obey me, here is the key. I want to see the letter in your hand.”
These words accompanied such an agonized look, that La Bougival said to Ursule:
“But do what your godfather wishes, or you will kill him.”
She kissed him on the forehead, took the key and went down; but, soon recalled by La Bougival’s piercing cries, she rushed back. The old man took her in at a glance, saw her empty hands, sat up, tried to speak, and died with a last terrible gasp, his eyes wild with terror. The poor little one, who had never seen death before, fell on her knees and burst into tears. La Bougival closed the old man’s eyes and arranged him in his bed. When, according to her expression, she had dressed the dead, the old nurse ran to tell Monsieur Savinien; but the heirs, who were at the end of the street, surrounded by on-lookers, just like crows waiting for the burial of a horse to come and scratch the earth and dig it out with their claws and beaks, ran up with the rapidity of birds of prey.
During these events, the postmaster had gone home to find out the contents of the mysterious package.
This is what he found:
