The result you see." The baroness re-entered the room, and the two men said no more.

A truly funereal silence pervaded the apartment, broken only by the moans of Maurice.
His excitement instead of abating had increased in violence.

Delirium peopled his brain with phantoms; and the name of Marie-Anne, Martial de Sairmeuse and Chanlouineau dropped so incoherently from his lips that it was impossible to read his thoughts.
How long that night seemed to M.d'Escorval and his wife, those only know who have counted each second beside the sick-bed of some loved one.
Certainly their confidence in the companion in their vigil was great; but he was not a regular physician like the other, the one whose coming they awaited.
Just as the light of the morning made the candles turn pale, they heard the furious gallop of a horse, and soon the doctor from Montaignac entered.
He examined Maurice carefully, and, after a short conference with the priest: "_I_ see no immediate danger," he declared.

"All that can be done has been done.

The malady must be allowed to take its course.