"

"You must not stay here, Isabelle," said the prince, tenderly; "such
sights are too trying for a young girl like you. Go to your own room
now, my dear, and I will let you know the doctor's verdict as soon as he
has pronounced it."

Isabelle accordingly withdrew, and was conducted to an apartment that
had been made ready for her; the one she had occupied being all in
disorder after the terrible scenes that had been enacted there.

The surgeon proceeded with his examination, and when it was finished
said to the prince, "My lord, will you please to order a cot put up in
that corner yonder, and have a light supper sent in for my assistant and
myself? We shall remain for the night with the Duke of Vallombreuse, and
take turns in watching him. I must be with him constantly, so as to note
every symptom; to combat promptly those that are unfavorable, and aid
those that are the reverse. Your highness may trust everything to me,
and feel assured that all that human skill and science can do towards
saving your son's life shall be faithfully done. Let me advise you to
go to your own room now and try to get some rest; I think I may safely
answer for my patient's life until the morning."

A little calmed and much encouraged by this assurance, the prince
retired to his own apartment, where every hour a servant brought him a
bulletin from the sick-room.

As to Isabelle, lying in her luxurious bed and vainly trying to sleep,
she lived over again in imagination all the wonderful as well as
terrible experiences of the last two days, and tried to realize her new
position; that she was now the acknowledged daughter of a mighty
prince, than whom only royalty was higher; that the dreaded Duke of
Vallombreuse, so handsome and winning despite his perversity, was no
longer a bold lover to be feared and detested, but a brother, whose
passion, if he lived, would doubtless be changed into a pure and calm
fraternal affection. This chateau, no longer her prison, had become her
home, and she was treated by all with the respect and consideration due
to the daughter of its master. From what had seemed to be her ruin had
arisen her good fortune, and a destiny radiant, unhoped-for, and beyond
her wildest flights of fancy. Yet, surrounded as she was by everything
to make her happy and content, Isabelle was far from feeling so--she was
astonished at herself for being sad and listless, instead of joyous and
exultant--but the thought of de Sigognac, s