"In what time ?" asked he, fixing his two large eyes upon the impassible countenance of the physician.
"My lord, we never tell that." "To ordinary men, perhaps not;--but to me--to me, whose every minute is worth a treasure.

Tell me, Guenaud, tell me!" "No, no, my lord." "I insist upon it, I tell you.

Oh! give me a month, and for every one of those thirty days I will pay you a hundred thousand crowns." "My lord," replied Guenaud, in a firm voice, "it is God who can give you days of grace, and not I.God only allows you a fortnight." The cardinal breathed a painful sigh, and sank back down upon his pillow, murmuring, "Thank you, Guenaud, thank you!" The physician was about to depart; the dying man, raising himself up: "Silence!" said he, with flaming eyes, "silence!" "My lord, I have known this secret two months; you see that I have kept it faithfully." "Go, Guenaud; I will take care of your fortunes; go, and tell Brienne to send me a clerk called M.Colbert.

Go!".