CHAPTER LXVIII.
HOW M. DE MONSOREAU OPENED AND SHUT HIS EYES, WHICH PROVED THATHE WAS NOT DEAD.
Remy rode along, wondering in what humor he should find Diana,and what he should say to her. He had just arrived at the parkwall, when his horse, which had been trotting, stopped so suddenlythat, had he not been a good rider, he would have been thrownover his head. Remy, astonished, looked to see the cause, andsaw before him a pool of blood, and a little further on, a body,lying against the wall. "It is Monsoreau!" cried he; "how strange!he lies dead there, and the blood is down here. Ah! there isthe track; he must have crawled there, or rather that good M.de St. Luc leaned him up against the wall that the blood mightnot fly to his head. He died with his eyes open, too."
All at once Remy started back in horror; the two eyes, that hehad seen open, shut again, and a paleness more livid than everspread itself over the face of the defunct. Remy became almostas pale as M. de Monsoreau, but, as he was a doctor, he quicklyrecovered his presence of mind, and said to himself that if Monsoreaumoved his eyes, it showed he was not dead. "And yet I have read,"thought he, "of strange movements after death. This devil of afellow frightens one even after death. Yes, his eyes are quiteclosed; there is one method of ascertaining whether he is deador not, and that is to shove my sword into him, and if he doesnot move, he is certainly dead." And Remy was preparing for thischaritable action, when suddenly the eyes opened again. Remystarted back, and the perspiration rolled off his forehead ashe murmured, "He is not dead; we are in a nice position. Yes,but if I kill him he will be dead." And he looked at Monsoreau,who seemed also to be looking at him earnestly.
"Oh!" cried Remy, "I cannot do it. God knows that if he wereupright before me I would kill him with all my heart; but as heis now, helpless and three parts dead, it would be an infamy."
"Help!" murmured Monsoreau, "I am dying."
"Mordieu!" thought Remy, "my position is embarrassing. I am adoctor, and, as such, bound to succor my fellow-creatures whenthey suffer. It is true that Monsoreau is so ugly that he canscarcely be called a fellow-creature, still he is a man. Come,I must forget that I am the friend of M. de Bussy, and do myduty as a doctor."
"Help!" repeated the wounded man.
"Here I am," said Remy.
"Fetch me a priest and a doctor."
"The doctor is here, and perhaps he will dispense with the priest."
"Remy," said Monsoreau, "by what chance--"
Remy understood all the question might mean. This was no beatenroad, and no one was likely to come without particular business.
"Pardieu!" he replied, "a mile or two off I met M. de St. Luc----"
"Ah! my murderer."
"And he said, 'Remy, go to the old copse, there you will finda man dead.'"
"Dead?"
"Yes, he thought so; well, I came here and saw you."
"And now, tell me frankly, am I mortally wounded?"
"I will try to find out."
Remy approached him carefully, took off his cloak, his doubletand shirt. The sword had penetrated between the sixth and seventhribs.
"Do you suffer much?"
"In my back, not in my chest."
"Ah, let me see; where?"
"Below the shoulder bone."
"The steel must have come against a bone." And he began to examine."No, I am wrong," said he, "the sword came against nothing, butpassed right through." Monsoreau fainted after this examination.
"Ah! that is all right," said Remy, "syncope, low pulse, cold inthe hands and legs: Diable! the widowhood of Madame de Monsoreauwill not last long, I fear."
At this moment a slight bloody foam rose to the lips of the woundedman.
Remy drew from his pocket his lancet case; then tearing off astrip from the patient's shirt, bound it round his arm.
"We shall see," said he, "if the blood flows. Ah, it does! andI believe that Madame de Monsoreau will not be a widow. Pardon,my dear M. de Bussy, but I am a doctor."
Presently the patient breathed, and opened his eyes.
"Oh!" stammered he, "I thought all was over."
"Not yet, my dear monsieur; it is even possible----"
"That I live!"
"Oh, mon Dieu! yes; but let me close the wound. Stop; do notmove; nature at this moment is aiding my work. I make the bloodflow, and she stops it. Ah! nature is a great doctor, my dearsir. Let me wipe your lips. See the bleeding has stopped already.Good; all goes well, or rather badly."
"Badly!"
"No, not for you; but I know what I mean."
"You think I shall get well?"
"Alas! yes."
"You are a singular doctor, M. Remy."
"Never mind, as long as I cure you," said he, rising.
"Do not abandon me," said the count.
"Ah! you talk too much. Diable! I ought to tell him to cry out."
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind; your wound is dressed. Now I will go to the castleand fetch assistance."
"And what must I do meanwhile?"
"Keep quite still; do not stir; breathe lightly, and try not tocough. Which is the nearest house?"
"The chateau de Meridor."
"Which is the way to it?" said Remy, affecting ignorance.
"Get over the wall, and you will find yourself in the park."
"Very well; I go."
"Thanks, generous man."
"Generous, indeed, if you only knew all."
He soon arrived at the chateau, where all the inhabitants werebusy looking for the body of the count; for St. Luc had giventhem a wrong direction. Remy came among them like a thunderbolt,and was so eager to bring them to the rescue, that Diana lookedat him with surprise, "I thought he was Bussy's friend," murmuredshe, as Remy disappeared, carrying with him a wheelbarrow, lintand water.