Exhausted by his effort, Dario had fallen back, again fainting, his face quite white and his eyes closed.

And it seemed to her that he was dying.
Distracted by her anguish, she felt him with trembling, groping hands: "Look, look, Monsieur l'Abbe!" she exclaimed.

"But he is dying, he is dying; he is already quite cold.

Ah! God of heaven, he is dying!" Pierre, terribly upset by her cries, sought to reassure her, saying: "He spoke too much; he has lost consciousness, as he did before.

But I assure you that I can feel his heart beating.