“Ah,” sighed Andrea in relief, without hearing or heeding him, “God in heaven be praised! it is the horse’s breast which struck him, and he is thrown out of the rut of the wheel. There he lies, stunned, but he is not killed. Only swooned. Hasten to help him. It is my son! They form a crowd round him: is there not a doctor or surgeon among them all?”
“Oh, I shall run,” said Gilbert.
“Wait,” said Andrea, stopping him by the arm, “they are dividing to let help come. It is the doct—oh, do not let that man approach him—I loathe him—he is a vampire, he is hideous!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, do not lose sight of Sebastian,” said Gilbert, shuddering.
“This ghoul carries him away—up the street—into the blind alley, called St. Hyacinthe: where he goes down some steps. He places him on a table where books and printed papers are heaped. He takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeve. He ties the arm with bandages from a woman as dirty and hideous as himself. He finds a lance in a case—he is going to bleed him. Oh, I cannot bear to see my son’s blood flow. Run, run, and you will find him as I say.”
“Shall I awaken you at once with recollection: or would you sleep till the morning and know nothing of what has happened?”
“Awaken me at once with full memory.”
Gilbert described a double curve with his hands so that his thumbs came upon the medium’s eyelids; he breathed on her forehead and said merely:
Instantly her eyes became animated; her limbs were supple; she looked at Gilbert almost without terror, and continuing, though aroused, the impulse in her vision, she cried: