Mlle. Fouchette Part 17

Father Sebastien laughed, in his low, gurgling way, and rubbed his hands some more, still eying Fouchette.

"She's been a good girl for five years, you say?"

"Yes, Father; we could not complain."

"Five years is a very long time to--to--for a girl like her to be good. Is it not so?"

"Truly."

"And yet they say her language was dreadfully--er--ah--improper."

"If you were pulled out of bed in the night and beaten because you spoke the truth to the Superieure," broke in Fouchette at this point, "you'd probably use bad language too!"

"Chut! child," said the Superieure, smiling in spite of herself.

"Oh! me?"

"La, la! Father." The Superieure now laughed.

"Quite possibly," he added,--"quite possibly. But in a demoiselle like you----"

"I'm afraid to send her back to the dormitory. Are you afraid to go back there, Fouchette?"

"No, madame," replied Fouchette.

"I think they'll leave her alone after this," said the priest.

"They'd better," said Fouchette.

"Oho!"

"But you must not quarrel, my dear,--remember that. And if they--well, you come to me or to Sister----"

"Sister Agnes, yes----"

"No, no; Sister Angelique," interrupted the Superieure, tartly.

"Sister Agnes has nothing to do with you hereafter."

"Wh-at? But Sister Agnes----"

"Now don't stand there and argue. I repeat that Sister Agnes is to have nothing to do with you hereafter. Sister Agnes has gone----"

"Gone!"

It was the worst blow--the only blow she had received in these five years. Her swollen lips quivered.

"I say Sister Agnes has gone. You will never see her again. And it's a good riddance! I never could bear that woman!"

"Oh, madame! madame!"

Fouchette sank to her knees appealingly.

"Get up!"

"Oh, madame!"

"Get up! Not another word!"

"But, madame!"

"There, my child," put in the priest. "You hear?"

"But Sister Agnes was my only friend here. Where has she gone? Tell me why she has gone. Oh, mon Dieu! Gone! and left me here without a word!

Oh! oh! madame!"

"She's gone because I sent her,--because it is her sworn duty to obey,--to go where she is sent. Where and why is none of her business, much less yours. Now let us hear no more from you on that point, or you will forfeit the leniency I was about to extend to you. Go!"

"But, madame," supplicated Fouchette, "hear me! Sister Agnes----"

The Superieure was now furious. She rang a little bell, waving Father Sebastien aside. Two sisters appeared,--her personal attendants, well known to those who had suffered punishment.

"Give this girl the douche!"

"Madame!" screamed Fouchette.

"Give her the douche--for fighting in the dormitory. In the refectory.

a.s.semble everybody! And if she resists let her have the paddle. If that doesn't bring her to her senses, give her five days on bread and water. I'll take that rebellious spirit out of her or----"

The two women hustled the trembling Fouchette away from the Presence.

Fouchette knew the disgrace of the douche. She had seen grown young women stripped stark naked before five hundred girls and have a bucket of ice-cold water thrown over them. One of them had been ill and was unable to do her work. She had died from the effects.

Fouchette understood the terrible significance of the paddle. A girl was stripped and strung up by the wrists to a door and was beaten with a heavy leather strap soaked in brine until the blood ran down her thighs.

Fouchette comprehended the character of the five days on bread and water, wherein the victim was forced to remain in her own filth for five days with nothing to eat but a half-loaf of stale bread and a small pitcher of water per twenty-four hours.

Yet, dreadful as was this immediate prospect, and as cruel as was the injustice meted out to her, Fouchette thought only of Sister Agnes.

She would have gone to punishment like a Stoic of old could somebody have a.s.sured her that what she had just heard was false and that Sister Agnes was yet in the inst.i.tution. Everything else and all together seemed dwarfed by the side of this one great overwhelming calamity.

"How could you have so angered Madame?" said one of her conductors,--both of whom were aware that she was to be unjustly punished.

"Be good, now, Fouchette," whispered the other; "besides, it is nothing,--a little water,--bah!"

They were leading her along a dark corridor, the same through which she had been taken five years before. It rushed over her now,--dear Sister Agnes!

"I only wanted to know about Sister Agnes," protested Fouchette.

Her conductors stopped short.