his previous accident, he kept so widely
stretched from his forefinger that a butterfly might have passed
between, with outspread wings, without losing one atom of its golden
plumage. The black doctor trembled lest all this caution should lead to
a second misadventure, but, happily, the phial reached its destination
in safety. As the Chourineur approached the bed, he again smashed
beneath his tread some of the fallen relics of the former potion.

"The deuce take you, man! Do you want to _maim_ yourself for life?"

"_Lame_ myself?" asked the eager nurse.

"Why, yes; you keep walking upon glass as though you were trying for
it."

"Oh, bless you! never mind that; the soles of my feet are hard as iron;
must be something sharper than glass could hurt them."

"A teaspoon--" said the doctor.

The Chourineur recommenced his _evolutions sylphidiques_, and returned
with the article required.

After having swallowed a few spoonfuls of the mixture, Rodolph began to
stir in his bed, and faintly moved his hands.

"Good! good! he is recovering from his stupor," said the doctor,
speaking to himself. "That bleeding has relieved him; he is now out of
danger."

"Saved? Bravo! Vive la Charte!" exclaimed the Chourineur, in the full
burst of his joy.

"Hold your tongue! and pray be quiet!" said the negro, in a tone of
command.

"To be sure I will, M. le Medecin."

"His pulse is becoming regular--very well, indeed--excellent--"

"And that poor friend of M. Rodolph's,--body and bones of me!--when he
comes to know that--But, then, luckily--"

"Silence! I say."

"Certainly, M. le Docteur."

"And sit down."

"But, M. le--"

"Sit down, I tell you! You disturb me, twisting and fidgeting about in
that manner,--you distract my attention. Come, sit down at once, and
keep still."

"But, doctor, don't you perceive I am as dirty as a pile of floating
wood just going to be unloaded?--all slime and wet, you see. I should
spoil the furniture."

"Then sit down on the ground."

"I should soil the carpet."

"Do what you like, but, for heaven's sake, be quiet!" said the doctor,
in a tone of impatience; then, throwing himself into an armchair, he
leaned his head upon his clasped hands, and appeared lost in deep
reflection.

After a moment of profound meditation, the Chourineur, less from any
need he felt for repose than in obedience to the doctor's commands, took
a chair with the utmost precaution, turned it upside down with an a