, come!" said she; "remember, he may die!"

The Count, dazed, followed her stumblingly, feeling his way with his
feet on the dark stairs, trying to distinguish the steps, so that he
should not fall.

The drive was short and silent. The Countess trembled so violently that
her teeth rattled, and through the window she saw the flying gas-jets,
veiled by the falling rain. The sidewalks gleamed, the Boulevard was
deserted, the night was sinister. On arriving, they found that the
painter's door was open, and that the concierge's lodge was lighted but
empty.

At the top of the stairs the physician, Dr. de Rivil, a little gray man,
short, round, very well dressed, extremely polite, came to meet them. He
bowed low to the Countess and held out his hand to the Count.

She asked him, breathing rapidly as if climbing the stairs had exhausted
her and put her out of breath:

"Well, doctor?"

"Well, Madame, I hope that it will be less serious than I thought at
first."

"He will not die?" she exclaimed.

"No. At least, I do not believe so."

"Will you answer for that?"

"No. I only say that I hope to find only a simple abdominal contusion
without internal lesions."

"What do you call lesions?"

"Lacerations."

"How do you know that there are none?"

"I suppose it."

"And if there are?"

"Oh, then it would be serious."

"He might die of them?"

"Yes."

"Very soon?"

"Very soon. In a few minutes or even seconds. But reassure yourself,
Madame; I am convinced that he will be quite well again in two weeks."

She had listened, with profound attention, to know all and understand
all.

"What laceration might he have?"

"A laceration of the liver, for instance."

"That would be very dangerous?"

"Yes--but I should be surprised to find any complication now. Let us go
to him. It will do him good, for he awaits you with great impatience."

On entering the room she saw first a pale face on a white pillow. Some
candles and the firelight illumined it, defined the profile, deepened
the shadows; and in that pale face the Countess saw two eyes that
watched her coming.

All her courage, energy, and resolution fell, so much did those hollow
and altered features resemble those of a dying man. He, whom she had
seen only a little while ago, had become this thing, this specter!
"Oh, my God!" she murmured between her teeth, and she approached him,
palpitating with horror.

He tried to smile, to reassure her, and the grim