'Do not be long, Cephyse.'
'In five minutes it will be done.'
The tall building, which faced the street, was separated by a narrow court from that which contained the retreat of the two sisters, and was so much higher, that when the sun had once disappeared behind its lofty roof, the garret soon became dark. The light, passing through the dirty panes of the small window, fell faintly on the blue and white patchwork of the old mattress, on which Mother Bunch was now stretched, covered with rags. Leaning on her left arm, with her chin resting in the palm of her hand, she looked after her sister with an expression of heart- rending grief. Cephyse, kneeling over the chafing-dish, with her face close to the black charcoal, above which already played a little bluish flame, exerted herself to blow the newly-kindled fire, which was reflected on the pale countenance of the unhappy girl.
The silence was deep. No sound was heard but the panting breath of Cephyse, and, at intervals, the slight crackling of the charcoal, which began to burn, and already sent forth a faint sickening vapor. Cephyse, seeing the fire completely lighted, and feeling already a little dizzy, rose from the ground, and said to her sister, as she approached her, 'It is done!'
'Sister,' answered Mother Bunch, kneeling on the mattress, whilst Cephyse remained standing, 'how shall we place ourselves? I should like to be near you to the last.'
'Stop!' said Cephyse, half executing the measures of which she spoke, 'I will sit on the mattress with my back against the wall. Now, little sister, you lie there. Lean your head upon my knees, and give me your hand. Are you comfortable so?'
'Yes—but I cannot see you.'
'That is better. It seems there is a moment—very short, it is true—in which one suffers a good deal. And,' added Cephyse, in a voice of emotion, 'it will be as well not to see each other suffer.'
'You are right, Cephyse.'
'Let me kiss that beautiful hair for the last time,' said Cephyse, as she pressed her lips to the silky locks which crowned the hunchback's pale and melancholy countenance, 'and then—we will remain very quiet.'
'Sister, your hand,' said the sewing-girl; 'for the last time, your hand—and then, as you say, we will move no more. We shall not have to wait long, I think, for I begin to feel dizzy. And you, sister?'
'Not yet,' replied Cephyse; 'I only perceive the smell of the charcoal.'
'Do you know where they will bury us?' said Mother Bunch, after a moment's silence.
'No. Why do you ask?'
'Because I should like it to be in Pere-la-Chaise. I went there once with Agricola and his mother. What a fine view there is!—and then the trees, the flowers, the marble—do you know the dead are better lodged—than the living—and—'
'What is the matter, sister?' said Cephyse to her companion, who had stopped short, after speaking in a slow voice.
'I am giddy—my temples throb,' was the answer. 'How do you feel?'
'I only begin to be a little faint; it is strange—the effect is slower with me than you.'
'Oh! you see,' said Mother Bunch, trying to smile, 'I was always so forward. At school, do you remember, they said I was before the others. And, now it happens again.'
'I hope soon to overtake you this time,' said Cephyse.
What astonished the sisters was quite natural. Though weakened by sorrow and misery, the Bacchanal Queen, with a constitution as robust as the other was frail and delicate, was necessarily longer than her sister in feeling the effects of the deleterious vapor. After a moment's silence, Cephyse resumed, as she laid her hand on the head she still held upon her knees, 'You say nothing, sister! You suffer, is it not so?'
'No,' said Mother Bunch, in a weak voice; 'my eyelids are heavy as lead—I am getting benumbed—I feel that I speak more slowly—but I have no acute pain. And you, sister?'
'Whilst you were speaking, I felt giddy—and now my temples throb violently.'
'As it was with me just now. One would think it was more painful and difficult to die.'
Then after a moment's silence, the hunchback said suddenly to her sister, 'Do you think that Agricola will much regret me, and think of me for some time?'
'How can you ask?' said Cephyse, in a tone of reproach.
'You are right,' answered Mother Bunch, mildly; 'there is a bad feeling in such a doubt—but if you knew —'
'What, sister?'
The other hesitated for an instant, and then said, dejectedly, 'Nothing.' Afterwards, she added, 'Fortunately, I die convinced that he will never miss me. He married a charming girl, who loves him, I am sure, and will make him perfectly happy.'
As she pronounced these last words, the speaker's voice grew fainter and fainter. Suddenly she started and said to Cephyse, in a trembling, almost frightened tone, 'Sister! Hold me in your arms—I am afraid—everything looks dark—everything is turning round.' And the unfortunate girl, raising herself a little, hid her face in her sister's bosom, and threw his weak arms around her.
'Courage, sister!' said Cephyse, in a voice which was also growing faint, as she pressed her closer to her bosom; 'it will soon be over.'
And Cephyse added, with a kind of envy, 'Oh! why does my sister's strength fail so much sooner than mine? I have still my perfect senses and I suffer less than she does. Oh! if I thought she would die first!—But, no—I will go and hold my face over the chafing-dish rather.'
At the movement Cephyse made to rise, a feeble pressure from her sister held her back. 'You suffer, my poor child!' said Cephyse, trembling.
'Oh yes! a good deal now—do not leave me!'
'And I scarcely at all,' said Cephyse, gazing wildly at the chafing-dish. 'Ah!' added she, with a kind of fatal! joy; 'now I begin to feel it—I choke—my head is ready to split.'
And indeed the destructive gas now filled the little chamber, from which it had, by degrees, driven all the air fit for respiration. The day was closing in, and the gloomy garret was only lighted by the reflection of the burning charcoal, which threw a red glare on the sisters, locked in each other's arms. Suddenly Mother Bunch made some slight convulsive movements, and pronounced these words in a failing voice: 'Agricola—Mademoiselle de Cardoville—Oh! farewell!—Agricola—I—'
Then she murmured some unintelligible words; the convulsive moments ceased, and her arms, which had been clasped round Cephyse, fell inert upon the mattress.
'Sister!' cried Cephyse, in alarm, as she raised Mother Bunch's head, to look at her face. 'Not already, sister!—And I?—and I?'
The sewing-girl's mild countenance was not paler than usual. Only her eyes, half-closed, seemed no longer to see anything, and a half-smile of mingled grief and goodness lingered an instant about her violet lips, from which stole the almost imperceptible breath—and then the mouth became motionless, and the face assumed a great serenity of expression.
'But you must not die before me!' cried Cephyse, in a heart-rending tone, as she covered with kisses the cold cheek. 'Wait for me, sister! wait for me!'
Mother Bunch did not answer. The head, which Cephyse let slip from her hands, fell back gently on the mattress.
'My God. It is not my fault, if we do not die together!' cried Cephyse in despair, as she knelt beside the couch, on which the other lay motionless.
'Dead!' she murmured in terror. 'Dead before me!—Perhaps it is that I am the strongest. Ah! it begins— fortunately—like her, I see everything dark-blue—I suffer—what happiness!—I can scarcely breathe. Sister!' she added, as she threw her arms round her loved one's neck; 'I am coming—I am here!'
At the same instant the sound of footsteps and voices was heard from the staircase. Cephyse had still presence of mind enough to distinguish the sound. Stretched beside the body of her sister, she raised her head hastily.
The noise approached, and a voice was heard exclaiming, not far from the doer: 'Good heavens! what a smell of fire!'
And, at the same instant, the door was violently shaken, and another voice exclaimed: 'Open! open!'
