He threw himself at her feet; she opened the door, and rushed away.
Andrée saw for an instant the young man on his knees before her, and felt struck with both hate and despair. She thought, as she saw the queen return, that God had given too much to this woman in adding to her throne and her beauty this half-hour with M. de Charny.
The doctor, occupied only with the success of the negotiation, said, “Well, madame, what will he do?”
“He will leave,” replied the queen; and, passing them quickly, she returned to her apartment.
The doctor went to his patient, and Andrée to her room.
Doctor Louis found Charny a changed man, declaring himself perfectly strong, asking the doctor how he should be moved, and when he should be quite well, with so much energy that the doctor feared it was too much, and that he must relapse after it. He was, however, so reasonable as to feel the necessity of explaining this sudden change. “The queen has done me more good by making me ashamed of myself,” he said, “than you, dear doctor, with all your science. She has vanquished me by an appeal to my amour propre.”
“So much the better,” said the doctor.
“Yes. I remember that a Spaniard—they are all boasters—told me one day, to prove the force of his will, that it sufficed for him in a duel which he had fought, and in which he had been wounded, to will that the blood should not flow in the presence of his adversary in order to retain it. I laughed at him. However, I now feel something like it myself; I think that if my fever and delirium wished to return, I could chase them away, saying, Fever and delirium, I forbid you to appear!”
“We know such things are possible,” replied the doctor. “Allow me to congratulate you, for you are cured morally.”
“Oh yes.”