“And yet I feel that there is something underneath still, which we do
not see. Why had they determined upon M. Champcey’s death even before
he sailed? What direct and pressing interest could M. de Brevan have in
wishing him dead at that time? Something must have happened between the
two which we do not know.”
“What?”
“Ah! that is what I cannot conceive. But remember what I say, doctor:
the future reserves some fearful mysteries yet to be revealed to us
hereafter.”
The two men had been so entirely preoccupied with their thoughts, that
they were unconscious of the flight of time; and they were not a little
astonished, therefore, when they now noticed that the day was gone, and
night was approaching. The lawyer rose, and asked, returning Henrietta’s
letter to the doctor,--
“Is this the only one M. Champcey has received?”
“No; but it is the only one he has opened.”
“Would you object to handing me the others?”
The excellent doctor hesitated.
“I will hand them to you,” he said at last, “if you will assure me that
the interests of justice require it. But why not wait”--
He did not dare say, “Why not wait for M. Champcey’s death?” but the
lawyer understood him.
“I will wait,” he said.
While thus talking, they had reached the door. They shook hands; and the
chief surgeon, his heart fall of darkest presentiments, slowly made his
way to the hospital.
A great surprise awaited him there. Daniel, whom he had left in a
desperate condition, almost dying,--Daniel slept profoundly, sweetly.
His pale face had recovered its usual expression; and his respiration
was free and regular.
“It is almost indescribable,” said the old doctor, whose experience was
utterly at fault. “I am an ass; and our science is a bubble.”
Turning to Lefloch, who had respectfully risen at his entrance, he
asked,--
“Since when has your master been sleeping in this way?”
“For an hour, commandant.”
“How did he fall asleep?”
“Quite naturally, commandant. After you left, the lieutenant was for
some time pretty wild yet; but soon he quieted down, and finally he
asked for something to drink. I gave him a cup of your tea; he took it,
and then asked me to help him turn over towards the wall. I did so, and
I saw him remain so, his arm bent, and his head in his hand, like a man
who is thinking profoundly. But about a quarter of an hour later, all
of a sudden, I thought I heard him gasp. I came up softly on tiptoe, and
looked. I was mistaken; the lieutenant was not gasping, he was crying
like a baby; and what I had heard were sobs. Ah, commandant! I felt as
if somebody had kicked me in the stomach. Because, you see, I know
him; and I know, that, before a man such as he is goes to crying like a
little child, he must have suffered more than death itself. Holy God!
If I knew where I could catch them, these rascals who give him all this
trouble”--
His fists rose instinctively, and most undoubtedly something bright
started from his eyes which looked prodigiously like a tear rolling
slowly down one of the deep furrows in his cheek.
“Now,” he continued in a half-stifled voice, “I saw why the lieutenant
had wished to turn his face to the wall, and I went back without making
a noise. A moment after that, he began talking aloud. But he was right
in his senses now, I tell you.”
“What did he say?”
“Ah! he said something like, ‘Henrietta, Henrietta!’ Always that good
friend of his, for whom he was forever calling when he had the fever.
And then he said, ‘I am killing her, I! I am the cause of her death.
Fool, stupid, idiot that I am! He has sworn to kill me and Henrietta,
the wretch! He swore it no doubt, the very day on which I, fool as I
was, confided Henrietta and my whole fortune to him.’”
“Did he say that?”
“The very words, commandant, but better, a great deal better.”
The old surgeon seemed to be amazed.
“That cunning lawyer had judged rightly,” he said. “He suspected there
was something else; and here it is.”
“You say, commandant?” asked the good sailor.
“Nothing of interest to you. Go on.”
“Well, after that--but there is nothing more to tell, except that I
heard nothing more. The lieutenant remained in the same position till I
came to light the lamp; then he ordered me to make him tack ship, and
to let down the screen over the lamp. I did so. He gave out two or three
big sighs, and then goodnight, and nothing more. He was asleep as you
see him now.”
“And how did his eyes look when he fell asleep?”
“Quite calm and bright.”
The doctor looked like a man to whom something has happened which is
utterly inexplicable to him, and said in a low voice,--
“He will pull through, I am sure now. I said there could not be another
miracle; and here it is!”