CHAPTER LI.
ANDREE.
The doctor remained thoughtful, then said to himself,--"There are otherdifficulties here besides those I can contend with by science." Hebathed again the temples of his patient, who for the time began to growcalmer.
All at once the doctor heard the rustling of a dress outside. "Can it bethe queen returned?" thought he; and opening the door softly, he sawbefore him the motionless figure of a woman, looking like a statue ofdespair. It was almost dark; he advanced suddenly along the corridor tothe place where the figure was standing. On seeing him, she uttered acry.
"Who is there?" asked Doctor Louis.
"I, doctor!" replied a sweet and sorrowful voice--a voice that he knewbut could not immediately recognize. "I, Andree de Taverney," continuedshe.
"Oh, mon Dieu! what is the matter?" cried the doctor; "is she ill?"
"She! who?"
The doctor felt that he had committed an imprudence.
"Excuse me, but I saw a lady going away just now, perhaps it was you."
"Oh, yes, there has been a lady here before me, has there not?" askedAndree, in a tone of emotion.
"My dear child," replied the doctor, "of whom do you speak? what do youwant to know?"
"Doctor," answered Andree, in a sorrowful voice, "you always speak thetruth, do not deceive me now; I am sure there was a woman here beforeme."
"Doubtless. Why should I deceive you? Madame de Misery was here."
"It was Madame de Misery who came?"
"Certainly; what makes you doubt? What inexplicable beings women are."
"Dear doctor."
"Well, but to the point. Is she worse?"
"Who?"
"Pardieu, the queen."
"The queen!"
"Yes, the queen, for whom Madame de Misery came to fetch me, and who wastroubled with her palpitations. If you come from her, tell me, and wewill go back together."
"No, doctor, I do not come from the queen, and was even ignorant thatshe was suffering. But pardon me, doctor, I scarcely know what I ansaying." In fact, she seemed on the point of fainting.
The doctor supported her. She rallied by a strong effort. "Doctor," shesaid, "you know I am nervous in the dark; I lost my way in theseintricate passages, and have grown frightened and foolish."
"And why the devil should you be wandering about these dark passages,since you came for nothing?"
"I did not say I came for nothing, only that no one sent me."
"Well, if you have anything to say to me, come away from here, for I amtired of standing."
"Oh, I shall not be ten minutes; can any one hear us?"
"No one."
"Not even your patient in there?"
"Oh, no fear of his hearing anything."
Andree clasped her hands. "Oh, mon Dieu!" she cried, "he is, then, veryill?"
"Indeed he is not well. But tell me quickly what brings you here, for Icannot wait."
"Well, doctor, we have spoken of it; I came to ask after him."
Doctor Louis received this confession with a solemn silence, whichAndree took for a reproach.
"You may excuse this step, doctor," she said, "as he was wounded in aduel with my brother."
"Your brother! I was ignorant of that."
"But now that you know it, you understand why I inquire after him."
"Oh, certainly, my child," said the good doctor, enchanted to find anexcuse for being indulgent; "I could not know this."
"A duel between two gentlemen is a thing of everyday occurrence,doctor."
"Certainly; the only thing that could make it of importance would bethat they have fought about a lady!"
"About a lady!"
"About yourself, for example."
Andree sighed.
"Oh, doctor! they did not fight about me."
"Then," said the doctor, "is it your brother that has sent you for newsof M. de Charny?"
"Oh, yes, my brother, doctor."
Dr. Louis looked at her scrutinizingly.
"I will find out the truth," thought he. Then he said, "Well, I willtell you the truth, that your brother may make his arrangementsaccordingly; you understand."
"No, doctor."
"Why, a duel is never a very agreeable thing to the king, and if itmakes a scandal, he often banishes or imprisons the actors; but whendeath ensues, he is always inflexible. Therefore counsel your brother tohide for a time."
"Then," cried Andree, "M. de Charny is--dangerously ill?"
"My dear young lady, if he is not out of danger by this time to-morrow,if before that time I cannot quell the fever that devours him, M. deCharny is a dead man."
Andree bit her lips till the blood came, and clenched her hands tillthe nails stuck into the flesh, to stifle the cry that was ready toburst from her. Having conquered herself, she said, "My brother will notfly; he wounded M. de Charny in fair fight, and if he has killed him, hewill take his chance."
The doctor was deceived. She did not come on her own account, hethought.
"How does the queen take it?" he asked.
"The queen? I know not. What is it to her?"
"But she likes your brother."
"Well, he is safe; and perhaps she will defend him if he is accused."
"Then, mademoiselle, you have learned what you wished. Let your brotherfly, or not, as he pleases; that is your affair. Mine is to do the bestto-night for the wounded man; without which, death will infallibly carryhim off. Adieu."
Andree fled back to her room, locked herself in, and falling on herknees by the side of her bed, "My God!" cried she, with a torrent ofburning tears, "you will not leave this young man to die who has done nowrong, and who is so loved in this world. Oh! save him, that I may see aGod of mercy, and not of vengeance." Her strength gave way, and she fellsenseless on the floor. When her senses returned to her, her firstmuttered words were, "I love him! oh, I love him!"