The wounded man looked at her fixedly.

"Tell me that I am not dreaming," he implored.

"Albert," she murmured, going up to him, "I owe you my life."

She knelt beside the bed and her delicate hand rested on his strong hand.

"G.o.d is very good," he sighed, closing his eyes.

He went so pale that Francois came forward quickly to feel his pulse.

He was silent a moment, then covering the patient's arm with the sheet again, looked at his watch.

"If only this doctor would come...." he said.

Almost immediately the head doctor from the barracks at Palais was announced. He was a man of forty, handsome, a little over-important, but he understood his business well enough. He diagnosed the wound as a fracture of the head and dressed and bandaged it, promising to return that evening with a soothing potion.

For Esperance he prescribed a healing lotion for the many little scratches, which were of no gravity. The girl was so insistent that she was allowed to watch beside her deliverer. Genevieve and Mlle.

Frahender also stayed in the room, ready in case she needed help. A dispatch was sent to the Countess.

Quiet redescended on the farm. A heavy atmosphere of sadness seemed to envelop it. Lunch was served disjointedly, n.o.body cared to eat.

Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender had been relieved by the maid, but they were anxious to return to their posts, and when Francois began to fold his napkin, they pushed back their chairs and quickly returned to the sick-chamber. The patient was becoming delirious. The name of Esperance was continually recurrent in his confused talk. Once the young girl trembled; the Count's expression had become so ferocious that she was terrified. Genevieve and the old Mademoiselle had just come in. She clung to them, clenching her hands and hiding her face.

She pointed to the Count, who, with his brows contracted and his lips sternly set, was talking volubly. All three trembled. He ground out the name of the Duke of Morlay-La-Branche in a kind of roar. Mlle.

Frahender, more composed than the girls, took the potion left by the doctor to calm the fever when it should become too raging. Esperance hardened herself against the weakness which had made her leave the bedside, and while Genevieve held the bandaged head she poured the liquid between the sick man's lips. At the same time she spoke to him very gently.

The well-known, much-loved voice had more effect than the potion. The wounded man grew gradually calmer, and still unconscious, slept quietly once more. Then Esperance sank back in an easy chair, begging Mlle. Frahender to see that no one should make any noise. When the doctor returned at nine, he found the patient had been sleeping for an hour. He was well satisfied, and waited a half-hour more before disturbing him to dress the wound. He could say nothing definitely as yet, except that the patient had lost no ground.

He took his leave until next day, and when Francois asked him to insist upon his daughter's rest, he refused, saying, "I shall do nothing of the kind. She risks nothing except a slight fatigue, and she is performing a good work. It may be that she is the real doctor."

A telegram from Madame Styvens announced that she would arrive next day with the doctor who had attended Albert from childhood, and a friend. She asked that rooms be reserved at the hotel at Palais. But Francois would reserve only the "Five Divisions of the World" for the three travellers. They prepared one of the rooms as a dressing-room for the Countess, and Maurice and Jean went to lodge at the farmer's.

It was with infinite discretion that Esperance broke the news of his mother's coming to Albert.

"Poor mother," he said, "she must be living through hours of anguish in her anxiety. But the doctor said that I am out of danger."

"What! you were not asleep!"

He smiled with the almost childish smile of the very ill returning to life.

"Then I shall be on my guard, henceforth," she threatened him gently with a slender finger.

He stretched his hand out towards her. She pressed it tenderly.

"Be careful, Albert, don't move too much."

They had completely dropped the "Monsieur" and "Mademoiselle," and this intimacy filled the young man's heart with joy.

CHAPTER XX

Francois had made a special arrangement with the captain of the _Soulacroup_, so that the charming Countess need not risk travelling with geese and pigs. At Quiberon he had reserved a special room that she might have at least an hour of rest. She went pale as death when she saw the philosopher and his wife waiting for her at the train, although they had sent her rea.s.suring telegrams every few hours. But feared that something serious might have happened while she was on the way.

Francois said with emotion as he kissed her trembling hand, "Everything is going well, Madame, be a.s.sured."

She breathed deeply and the colour returned to her face, which was still so youthful in appearance. She presented Doctor Chartier, who had been present at Albert's birth, and had cared for him ever since, and General van Berger. Several peasant women, who had heard the news of her coming, pressed around offering flowers.

"Your son is saved, Madame," they said.

Her mother's soul was overcome with sorrow and joy, for she felt that they spoke the truth.

Esperance, who had been watching for her coming, threw herself into her arms sobbing, but quickly realizing her impatience--"Come, come, he is expecting you."

In spite of her efforts to keep calm the poor woman cast herself upon the bed and embraced her son, interrupting her sobs with words of endearment, crying, laughing, delirious with happiness, for he was indeed alive, and she had feared.... But she cast away the terrible thought.

The doctor from the barracks entered for a consultation with Doctor Chartier, who issued the smiling command, "Leave him to the doctors now, good ladies."

The Countess pressed a last kiss on her son's hand and went away with Genevieve and Esperance.

After Doctor Chartier had examined the wound, he congratulated his _confrere_. "You have cared for our patient admirably, and you will find that his mother is eternally grateful to you."

And indeed the Countess did press his hands and expressed with n.o.ble simplicity her grat.i.tude to everyone for all that had been done for her son.

The doctors were to return in the evening. Albert begged his mother to take a little rest.

"If I have your word, dear mama, I declare to you I will go to sleep, I am so relieved to know your anxiety is over."

"I will take care of your mother, Albert," said Esperance. "You take your medicine and go to sleep. Genevieve has promised to come and fetch me if you do not."

The Countess smiled as she went out with the young girl. She looked at the pretty face, which was still scarred by the marks of her fall. She listened, trembling with terror, but admiring the coolness and courage of her adored son, while the little artist gave her an account of the accident. Then she sent for Maurice and Jean Perliez that she might thank them repeatedly. She loved them all for their goodness and simplicity.

"The maid is at your disposal, Madame, I will send her to you." said Esperance. She bent to kiss the Countess's hand, but found her face caressed by it.

"My daughter, my dear daughter," said the Countess, kissing her tenderly.

Esperance went away mystified, and in a daze.

In eight days, Doctor Chartier left them. The invalid was now convalescent, but still confined--to his room for several days. The head wound was closing little by little. Happily the cut had been a clean one and there had been no complications; but fatigue was to be avoided, and the young Count was not allowed to exert himself in any way. He usually settled himself in a big arm-chair near the window, and while his mother did some embroidering, Esperance read aloud.

Every two hours they were relieved by Madame Darbois and Genevieve. As to Maurice, he had made a plot in concert with Esperance and Albert, of offering a portrait of her son to the charming Countess. Baron van Berger played endless games of cards with Francois. The days pa.s.sed quickly and everyone seemed happy. Esperance's face was as lovely as ever, for every scar had disappeared.

The accident to Count Styvens had made a great stir in the fashionable world, where the young Belgian diplomat was much esteemed and even loved, and the artistic world was interested on account of Esperance.

Telegrams and letters came in every day. The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche had shown such an interest that the object of it (the Count) grew exasperated. The Duke had even expressed a desire to come and see the sufferer, but the philosopher, warned by Jean Perliez, replied coldly, pleading the doctor's orders.

At last the day came when the Count was permitted to leave the sick room. He was allowed to take a walk, and felt so strong that when Maurice offered his a.s.sistance he refused it quite gaily. Esperance and the Countess walked on either side of him; but suddenly he grew dizzy, and stretched out his arms. Maurice started forward to catch him as he tottered, and the Count saved himself by catching hold of the shoulder of Esperance. Under this heavy burden Esperance shuddered and nearly fell, and grew so pale that Genevieve came to her.

"Give me your arm, darling, and walk a little behind with me, you seem so shaken.... Oh! I guess why...."