has evidently weighed upon him,
I think there is little doubt that he will soon fall asleep."

"I will go and have supper," Desmond said, "for I have ridden
fifty miles since I last ate, and then it was but a piece of bread
with a draught of wine. After that I will, with your permission,
return here, and if you tell me that he sleeps, will take my place
by his bedside till morning."

"To that I have no objection," the surgeon said. "I and a
colleague have, one or other, been with him since he was brought
in; and I shall be glad of a rest, myself."

Desmond returned to the Soleil, where he had left Mike. The
latter, who had just finished his supper, was delighted to hear
that de la Vallee was likely to recover. After satisfying his own
hunger, Desmond returned to the Couronne. He went upstairs, and,
taking off his riding boots, stole to the door of his friend's
chamber. It stood a little ajar, and, pushing it open noiselessly,
he entered.

The surgeon, who was sitting at the bedside, rose at once.

"He is asleep already," he whispered, "and is breathing quietly. I
think it likely that he will not stir until tomorrow morning. I
shall be here at six. If he wakes, and there is any change, send
for me at once."

After he had left the room, Desmond took his place on the fauteuil
by the bedside. For a time, he thought over the singular chain of
adventures that he had gone through. Gradually, in spite of his
efforts, his eyelids drooped. De la Vallee had not moved, and,
being dead tired by the exertions of the past four days, he fell
into a deep sleep, from which he did not awake until daylight
streamed into the room.

Shocked at having thus given way, he looked anxiously at de la
Vallee, and was relieved to find that he was lying exactly in the
same position, and had evidently slept without once waking. Half
an hour later, Philip opened his eyes, looked wonderingly at him,
and then said:

"So, it was not all a good dream, Desmond! You are really here,
and your news is true?"

"Certainly, it is true, Philip. By this time Mademoiselle de
Pointdexter and her father are far on the way home. They were to
have travelled on to Argentan, and then through Aurillac, striking
the Lozere at Entraigues and proceeding along its banks to Mende,
and thence by a road over the hills to Villefort, where they would
be twenty miles from Pointdexter. The carriage was to be left
behind at their first halting place. Mademoiselle was the