Volume Ii Part 44 (1/2)
”What is the matter, in heaven's name,” asked Bathilde, half rising, ”that you are here so early, dear Ambroisine? You must have something of great importance to tell me?”
”I have not left the house since yesterday; that is to say, I left it for a moment, but returned at once and pa.s.sed the night here.”
”Speak, Ambroisine, explain yourself; one would say that you dared not.--Oh! I will be brave enough, if necessary. Besides, my daughter is with me; and when I fear nothing for her, I am very strong, I a.s.sure you!”
Thereupon Ambroisine told her friend of the events of the previous night, taking pains, however, not to make the count's wound appear so serious as the surgeon had declared it to be.
But Bathilde did not give her time to finish her story; she had already risen and was dressing in great haste, saying, in a voice broken by the emotion that choked her utterance:
”He is here, mon Dieu! here--so near me--since last night--and I was not told! And you left me in ignorance of his suffering!--Oh! that was wrong--very wrong! is it not my duty to be with my husband when he needs care?”
”Our duty was to follow the orders of the surgeon; he said that the slightest excitement would be fatal to monsieur le comte.”
”Mon Dieu! then he is very ill!”
”Remember that he does not know as yet where he has been taken; and if he sees you by his side, if he recognizes you, do you think that it will not excite him?”
”Very well! I will hide myself, I will keep out of sight, he shall not see me!--But I shall see him, I shall know what his condition is, and I shall be able to add my care to that which you give him.--Come, Ambroisine, come!”
But before leaving the room Bathilde stopped to press her lips to her daughter's brow; then, after bidding the faithful Marie to stay with Blanche, she hurried to her husband's apartment.
Leodgard was still in the same condition; the ghastly pallor of his face and his closed eyes gave him the aspect of a dead man; but a faint breath that came from his lips proved that life had not abandoned him.
Bathilde gazed long at the sad spectacle, then fell on her knees beside the bed, and implored heaven to preserve Leodgard's life.
XLVIII
THE SWEETEST LOVE
For twenty days, Leodgard hovered between life and death; a horrible delirium succeeded the prostration which immediately followed his wound; but during that time the most touchingly devoted care was lavished on him.
Bathilde, Ambroisine, and the Sire de Jarnonville were almost constantly at the patient's bedside; at first the young wife pa.s.sed whole nights in attendance on her husband; in order to induce her to be more reasonable, to force her to take some rest, it was necessary to tell her that her child was asking for her, that she refused to go to sleep unless her mother was with her.
During those long nights, when the violence of the count's fever often caused him to talk aloud in his dreams, or rather in his delirium, his watchers had observed with amazement that the same person was constantly in his thoughts, that he was almost invariably tormented by the same memories; in short, that his lips many and many a time uttered a certain name; and that name was Giovanni.
”Did you hear him?” Bathilde would ask her friend; ”it is most extraordinary that Leodgard, in his delirium, is always thinking of that famous robber. One would say that he was afraid of the man--that he was fighting with him!”
”Yes; only yesterday I heard monsieur le comte cry out: 'Avaunt, wretched man! do not pursue me so!'--And a moment later, he said: 'But, no, it is not he, it is I whom they mean to arrest! They have recognized me! I am Giovanni, I! the other is dead!'”
”Poor love! what ghastly delirium!--Oh! when will he be calmer and recover his reason?”
And one evening, Bathilde said to the Sire de Jarnonville, who seemed lost in thought as he listened to the sick man's wanderings:
”Chevalier, as my husband is always thinking of this Giovanni, do not you believe that, instead of having fought a duel, as you thought at first, he was attacked by that terrible robber and received this dangerous wound from him?”
”I haven't the least doubt about it, myself,” said Ambroisine; ”monsieur le comte has that last encounter ever present in his mind, and so in his delirium he believes he still sees this Giovanni.”
Jarnonville seemed to reflect before he replied; at last he said to the friends: