The Doctor declared that he could give no decision
at that moment, and ordered them to leave her to sleep.
“She must not be left for a second,” he
said. “Two people must watch so that she
need never be left alone.”
The Duke kissed the limp little hand, and recoiled—his
lips touched her engagement ring. As he went
out he met the Countess Styvens and hardly recognized
her, so terribly was she changed. She stopped
him.
“Do not leave. I know from my son that
it was he who provoked you. The cause of your
duel is a secret that I shall never seek to know.
May God pardon my son and free you from all remorse.
I go to my daughter, all I have left to love and protect.”
It was evident that the noble woman was making a great
effort; the last words of her son were still ringing
in her brain.
De Morlay knelt and watched the Countess disappear
into the room.
The Doctor declared that evening that Esperance had
congestion of the brain, and that specialists who
were sent for from Paris confirmed the diagnosis.
The Dowager would not hear of having her taken away.
The Tower of Saint Genevieve was put entirely at the
Darbois’s disposal. Twos sister were sent
for, and Jeanette volunteered to do the heavy work.
All the other servants were forbidden to approach the
Tower.
The Countess Styvens, accompanied by the Duke de Castel-Montjoie,
the Prince and Princess de Bernecourt, and the Baron
van Berger, had taken the body of her son to be buried
in the great family mausoleum which she had raised
to the memory of her husband at her country place of
Lacken.
Maurice and Genevieve were greatly relieved when they
learned that the Countess had not remained. In
her crises of delirium Esperance talked and talked....
“Albert, no, no, I do not love him ...
I love the Duke.... Yes, he saved my life, but
my father is going to tell him.... I cannot keep
this collar.... It is cold, cold, it strangles
me, I am stifling.... I am going to die....
Yes, Albert, you shall clasp the chain every morning
... and every evening.... No, my head is not too
low, I can see the beauty of Perseus better.
He is coming?... He is coming to cut off the
long arms that hold me.... The blood, there, the
blood running slowly!... No, Albert, do not die,
I will love you, the Duke will go!...”
In spite of her trusting confidence, the poor mother
must have come to wonder and perhaps to understand.
When Esperance regained consciousness the worst danger
was over. Only Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender
had heard the complete revelation.
Jeanette knew too, but Genevieve, who understood that
she was there to keep the Duke informed, found her
very docile and repentant and did not send her away.
The Countess, to whom they had sent a daily bulletin
for three weeks, found that Esperance, if not cured,
was at least on the way to convalescence. She
would still pass many hours when she failed to recognize
people. A kind of coma took possession of her
every now and then and kept her for days together in
a kind of lethargy.
