Author's note: Don't forget to send in your guesses within the next days! The culprit could be revealed as soon as in the next chapter or the one after that. Also, some people have to clarify their guesses. I can't accept more than one guess per person. So far, I've received guesses from Catnipp, Blue-Rose-Soul, Elammito-Dragonsong, Icelands, Phantom-jedi 1 and Soonerratherthanlater. If you're not one of those people, but think you sent me a guess, please do so again. I may not have received it. Anyway, on with the story. The plot is not the only thing that thickens in this chapter.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven

September 18th 1892: Jacqueline

There were many things one learned when working with children. One of them was not to panic, no matter what happened. I was known to stay calm in the face of disaster, and blood didn't scare me either. Yet this was worse than anything I had ever seen. The body of Madame was lying on its side, and Larisse was crouching next to it, sobbing into her hands.

For once, I didn't want to stay calm. I wanted to cry and shout and throw up and run away, everything at the same time. Suddenly I was not twenty-six years old anymore. I was thirteen, and my sister was lying in front of me. She had fallen from the tree I had forbidden her to climb and landed right at my feet. I couldn't help her, even if I had known how. I was paralysed with fear.

And then, just as suddenly, I heard my mother's voice.

You've got to help her, Jacqueline.

´But I don't know how,´ I protested. ´Can't you do it?´

If I do it, you'll never learn. No, you're the one who has to do it. I'll help you.

I still didn't know exactly why my mother, who was a midwife and knew a lot about injuries, hadn't helped my sister herself. My best guess was that she had seen at once that she hadn't been seriously hurt and wanted to strengthen my self-confidence. It had certainly worked.

With my mother's instructions in my ears, I finally managed to approach Madame.

Make sure you always remember who the person is, what they mean to you. As soon as you forget it, you'll stop caring about their well-being.

Madame was the woman I worked for. She had chosen me all those years ago, even though I had been young and inexperienced. She hadn't even dismissed me when she had found out that it had been I who had kept M.Erik informed about what was going on in her house. I'd never forget that.

Examine the person and try to find out what injuries they have.

That had always been my mother's next step, but there was something I had to do first. My mother couldn't have known that one day I'd deal with a person who might be… might be… I couldn't even bring myself to think the big, ugly word. Instead, I opened the entrance door completely, passed Larisse, who was still sobbing so hard that I doubted she noticed me, and kneeled down beside Madame.

"Madame?" I addressed her in a loud and clear voice. "Madame, can you hear me?" I had often heard my mother use the same voice with women who had been so exhausted after giving birth that they had passed out. But there was no reaction now, not a word, not even the fluttering of an eyelid. Madame lay perfectly still. She looked as though she were sleeping.

I knew there was a second thing I could try, but I was afraid. What if that wouldn't work either? Then I'd be certain that she was… She couldn't be. I had to try it. I had to know. Slowly I brought my hand to her face and held it in front of her nose. If she was breathing, I should be able to feel it. If…

There it was. The unmistakable feeling of breath against my fingers, deep and even. So she was not… My heart was swelling with gratitude, and I could hardly hold back tears.

"Thank you, God," I murmured.

Never let emotions overwhelm you while you are working. You can be as happy or as sad as you please… when you're finished.

My mother's words reminded me of what I had to do. I had to look for injuries next. The trouble was that I couldn't see any. But then, Madame was lying on her side. Perhaps the injuries were on the other side of her body. I'd have to turn her onto her back. After a few moments' thinking I placed my hands on her shoulder and pushed hard. She was much heavier than I'd have expected, but I finally managed to turn her over… regretting it instantly as I saw the left side of her face.

The first thing that caught my eye was the terrible wound at the side of her head. She seemed to have been hit with something heavy. Her skin had burst open, and there was blood on her foreheard, her cheek and in her hair. The doorstep was rather clean, though, so I guessed that by the time she had been brought here, she had already stopped bleeding. I didn't know whether that was good or bad, but I hoped it was good.

I didn't see any other injuries. Not even her clothes were torn, just dirty. Whatever had happened to her, it could have been much worse. If only I could make her wake up… Recalling another method I had seen my mother use, I patted Madame's cheek, gently at first, then more firmly when she still showed no reaction.

"Madame!" I called. "Madame, you've got to wake up now!" I was slowly growing impatient. She was breathing, so why couldn't she just wake up?

At last, at long last, she opened her eyes. Her gaze was unfocused as she loked up at me, and I doubted that she could see properly, especially with her left eye, since the surrounding part of her face was swollen. Still I could have cried with joy. Madame was awake, she was truly awake!

She muttered something I couldn't understand and tried to sit up, but she was too weak. Quickly I placed a hand under her head as she sank down again. I noticed in alarm how cold she was.

Always make sure the person is warm and as comfortable as possible. Warmth is essential for the human well-being.

Why hadn't I thought of that piece of advice sooner? Why hadn't I brought her inside first, instead of letting her lie outside, allowing her body to cool down? I pushed the questions to the back of my head, for I couldn't answer them. I couldn't change the past. If I could do that, I'd never let Madame leave the house in the first place.

Yet now that it had already happened, I had to get her inside quickly. For the first time since she had opened the door, I addressed Larisse.

"We've got to carry her inside," I said.

"Yes, yes… that's the least we can do," she muttered, her face still hidden behind her hands. "Such a misery… such a terrible misery… And the children! What will we tell the poor children?" A fresh wave of sobs shook her body.

Knowing that she wouldn't hear me now anyway, I waited a few moments before I told her gently:

"Look at her, Larisse! She's not... you know.".

Slowly her face emerged from behind her hands, and she looked over at Madame. Her eyes grew wide, and she gave me a tearful smile.

"I can't believe it," she whispered. "What have you done?"

"Nothing," I replied, for I didn't feel as if I had done much.

It seemed to have been enough to impress Larisse, though. Leaning over Madame, she kissed me on both cheeks. Then she bent down and kissed her, too, tears streaming down her face. Madame groaned. Apparently her face hurt too much to be kissed.

"We can still celebrate inside," I told her quickly. "But first we've got to get her there."

"I… think… can walk…" Madame breathed, her lips parted ever so slightly. Yet Larisse and I shook our heads.

"The risk would be too high," I said. "You could fall. We'll carry you, and Jacques can go and fetch a doctor. And the children…" I stopped myself, noticing the flaw in my plan. "Oh no, we can't do it like that. Larisse, you go to the children. Make sure they stay upstairs. I don't want them to see their mother before I've had time to clean her a little. But first you go to Jacques and tell him to come and help me. I don't care if you have to wake him up," I added.

Larisse nodded and walked away quickly, muttering what I assumed was a prayer under her breath.

"Raoul? Erik?" Madame whispered.

"They'll be here soon," I assured her gently, even though I had no idea where they were. "Everything will be all right."

I sat there, stroking her hair and her face, avoiding the bruised parts, till Jacques arrived. He didn't say a word, but merely gave me a brief nod to indicate that he was here and willing to help me. Follwing my instructions, he seized Madame under the armpits, while I took her legs. It surely wasn't the most comfortable way of carrying someone, but somehow we managed to get her onto the sofa in the living room. Neither of us had wanted to try the stairs.

"You have to go and fetch the doctor," I said as soon as I had regained my breath enough to speak. "I don't know how serious the injury on her head is. And, Jacques…" I went on, although he had already turned around. "I know you've never been too fond of Madame. Still it would be very nice if you could hurry up. If anything happens to her and I find out that you didn't walk as quickly as you could, I'll make sure M.Erik knows about it, too."

"Master Raoul loves her," he gave back simply, as if he hadn't heard my threat. "I'd never do anything that would hurt him as well." With these words he left.

"I guess we're lucky then," I remarked, only to notice that Madame had slid back into unconsciousness. I made no attempt to wake her up a second time. Now that I knew she could wake up, it was probably best to let her sleep. I fetched a blanket to cover her with and sat down in a chair next to the sofa. So many things had happened since Larisse had opened the door, and now was the first moment I had to take a deep breath. With a smile I realised that my mother would have been proud of me. I'd have to send her a –

My thoughts were interrupted when Jacques strode back into the room.

"I am unable to leave the house," he told me. "The door is locked."

"But none of us locked the door when we carried Madame inside," I said, shaking my head. Then, following a sudden idea, I patted the pockets of Madame's coat. They were empty. "Someone took her key," I stated in a low voice, feeling my skin break out in gooseflesh. I didn't know what this meant, but it couldn't be good. There was a sense of foreboding in the air. And that was not the only thing.

"What's that smell?" I asked.

Involuntarily our gaze wandered to the door to the corridor, which he had left open. We saw the smoke at the same time.