Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-08-13
The Lazaretto- Keeper.
IN FOUR PARTs-PART III.

1
her. but the child replied she had nothing the
matter with her. But her eyes filled with tears.
and her voice trembled at each question.
So she passed the day in lassitude. In the
evening she felt more exhausted, but still she
suffered no pain; her night was restless, and
the next morning Ropars sent for the doctor of
the lazaretto.
He looked at the child, and asked several
questions at which Matthew's brow grew
gloomy. Genevieve, who's eyes went from the
doctor to her husband, perceived it. She felt
her heart sink within her. The moment they
crossed the threshold. she followed them, shut
the door quickly, and stopped them.
ut is the sickness, is it mott" askedshe, with
anguish.
She dared not name the yellow fever. The
doctor seemed unwilling to answer.
"Oh am sure oft :" cried she, confirmed
in her suspicion by his hesitation. "Then all
our care has been of no use 1t is come-it is
all over 90
She sank upon the stone beach at the door,
and covered her face with her aporn. The doc
tor tried to comfort her with vague hopes; but
it was evident that he had no expectation of
success from anything he could do. He was al
ready conquered by the inveterate force of the
injection, and only continued to fight against il
from duty, and when hope was gone, like those
soldiers who, for the honor of their flag, silently
devote themselves in defence of a post abandon
words, far from calming Genevieve's grief, SEEM
ed to increase it, he turned towards the keeper,
to whom he briefly repeated the prescriptions he
had already gwen for the sick child, and then
went back to the lazaretto
Ropars remained for some moments in the
same place, with his arms folded, and his ewes
fixed on the ground; but a loud sob from Gen.
| evieve made him raise them. He took her
hand.
"The time is not yet come for despair" said
he, with gentle firmness; "when God has de-
clared against US, you will have the rest of your
life for tears. At present, let us attend to our
duty by doing what the captain orders"
"And did he say nothing ~ cried the mother
who wished in her herrt that the doctor had
combated her fears more decidedly; "did he give
10 hope %
eve are in Gods hands," replied Matthew
simply; I" and as long as he does not declare
his WILL we may trust that all will go well; but
if the dear child must leave us, let us show, at
least, to the last moment, how precious we feel
the charge"
Just then they heard the chids feverish voice
"Ah she calls me" cries Genevieve, hurri-
eddy rising to go in.
Ropars stopped her.
First wipe your eyes," said he, passing his
own hand fondly over the moist eyelids of the
poor mother. "Jeannette must not think tina.
you are anxious. Her life may depend upon it;
do you understand it 2"
eyes, yes" replied she "never fear, Matthew,
will cry no more;" and she tried to dry her
eyes, which always filled again with fresh tears
There, no one can see anything now. Besides,
the doctors may be mistaken, may they not p
And then-God will have pity upon usr'
1--WE must hope So" replied the keeper,
much affected; but, while we look to him for
pity, it is for US to show resignation. Come,
my brave heart; smile on your ehild-it will do
bar mod And hafn II o., L.. L.
me; that will give US both courage''
Jeannette's mother threw her arms round her
husbands neck with fresh burst of tears; but
she stopped at the voice of the sick child call
ing her second time, and, with last effort
she forced her despair back into the very depths
of her heart, and darted into the house with a
calm brow and a smile upon her lips.
In the meantime Jeanette rapidly grew
worse. By the evening, the fever had greatly
increased She talke inturn of her sister Fran
cine, of Michael, of the cherry tree in blossom
of her kind friend NJ. Gabriel. Sometimes she
thought she heard him, she called him; she wish
ed to know if he had brought her the presents
he had promised At other times the recoiec-
tons of the scene in the ravine returned to her
memory. She cried out that he was dead and
that she heard the earth being thrown upon him
in the grave.
The doctor came back several times, and pre-
scribed more remedies, without being able To
full night for the poor mother, holding her child,
who was becoming more and more Nght- headed,
in her arms. When the sun rose, her restless
delirium ceased, but only to give place to the
lethargy which precedes death. At last towards
the middle of the day, Jeanette opened her
eyes, and heaved sight was her last
The blow was too surely expected for Ropars
and Genevieves grief to be loud The pain of
their loss had, SO to say, come first both had
drunk 1t drop by drop during that long agony.
The mothers calmness, however, had something
so haggard in it, that it would have terrified one
less overwhelmed with sorrow than Matthew
She would herself pay the last duties to her
child; she combed out her beautiful black hair
dressed her in her best clothes, laid her out and
Joined her two hands over her heart, as Jean.
nette used to do in sleep. All these offices
were performed slowly, quietly, with a sort of
satisfaction and often she added her kisses
Scarcely did tear steal at intervals down her
cheeks, marked with burning spots, or a slight
trembling agitated her hand, as it fulfilled its
mournful task AT last, when she had herself
wrapped her in her shroud, she went to the win
dow, plucked a white gillifower-the only one
the sea-wind had spared-and scattered it.
leaves over the winding sheet
In .he mean time, night had come. AS the
shadows gathered round the bed the form of the
dead showed dimly under its linen covering,
like some ialf-inshed statue; and above hung
on ivory crucifx, with dropping head and extend
ed arms
Genev;eve tell on her knees at the bedside
and remained long time with her head resting
ON her clasped hands. She gently murmured a.
PRAYER: but, through her lips repeated all its
words its sense did not reach her mind. When
she had finished, she got up mechanically, and
looked round her; her brain was dark chaos.
She raised her two hands to her forehead, which
she pressed with stihed cry, as if she would
lofo hQHrt.
rendnp thoughts. There was struggle tor q
moment between despair and resolution. Than
the latter gained the advantage, and she went
towards the door and opened 1t.
Her husband had withdrawn TO the battery
with Francne to spare her the painful sight OF
the laying out. She perceived him standing
near the parapet; the little girl was closet to him,
and resting her head against his knees. Since
the death of her sister, she had not uttered a
word AS she stood motionless, with open eyes
and compressed lips, she seemed trying to I'M
derstand It, Her two little hands hung idly
down and her bare feet were as II liked upon the
ground.
On seeing her thus, in the light of the rising
moon, which played on her fair hair, Genevieve
seemed to come to herself; CLEAN passed over
her pallid features, she breathed more freely,
and food of tears streamed from her eyes
She threw herself towards the child, whom she
raised in her arms in a sort of passion OF grlef
which Francine Immediately took part in by a
burst of kisses and sobs. For long time there
was only an exchange of broken words and I'M
finished sentences. The little girl asked for her
sister; and her mother. whose grief was renewed
by these questions, tried to stIhe them with her
kisses At last, when quite exhausted, she re-
Taxed the embrace with which she was holding
Francine, and she felt some one gently taking
her away.
1t was Matthew, who put the child on the
ground. He drew her mother a little further off,
and obliged her to sit on the stone bench set
against the parapet She endeayored to get up,
and stretched out her arms.