"But you will think better of the matter; you will listen to reason; you will reverse your decision," pleaded the count, his nervous incoherence and confusion increasing as he grew more and more agitated. "It's for the honor of the family to say 'yes,' and therefore 'yes' is the proper answer,—eh, Madeleine? Don't joke any more, my dear; it troubles me; it gives me such a throbbing and heavy weight in my brain. All's right,—is it not?"
Count Tristan lay back in his chair, and continued muttering, though his words were no longer comprehensible.
Madeleine now began to be alarmed, and, approaching him, said kindly, "Can I give you anything? You are not well. Let me order you a glass of wine."
He stared at her with vacant, glassy eyes, while his lips moved and twitched without giving forth any distinct sounds. He lifted up his arms in appeal; they dropped suddenly, as if struck by a giant's invisible hand, and his head fell forward heavily.
Madeleine, greatly terrified, spoke to him again and again, shook him gently by the shoulder, to rouse him,—tried to lift his head; the face she succeeded in turning toward her was frightfully distorted; white foam oozed from the lips; the eyes were suffused with blood. She had never before seen a person in a fit, but instinct told her the nature of the seizure.
Her violent ringing of the bell quickly brought servants to her assistance, and she ordered Robert to summon Dr. Bayard with the utmost haste.
This distinguished physician pronounced the attack apoplexy; and, after applying those remedies which recent discoveries in science have proved most efficacious, ordered the patient to be undressed and put to bed.
Madeleine's own chamber was prepared for the count's use. The attack was of brief duration, and he recovered from its violence soon after the physician arrived, but remained exhausted and insensible.
Another critical case required Dr. Bayard's immediate attendance, and after giving Madeleine minute directions, he took his leave, saying that he would return in a couple of hours.
Then Madeleine, who had been engrossed by the necessity of promptly ministering to the sufferer, remembered that the count's family should at once be made aware of his condition. What a frightful shock the countess would receive when she heard of her son's state! And Maurice and Bertha,—would they not be greatly alarmed? How could intelligence of the calamity be most gently communicated? Should Madeleine write? A note bearing the tidings might startle his mother too much. Madeleine saw but one alternative,—it was to go in person and break the sorrowful news as delicately as possible. She did not waste a moment in pondering upon the manner in which the haughty countess might receive her, but ordered her carriage, and drove to the hotel, leaving Count Tristan under the charge of Ruth, and Mrs. Lawkins, the housekeeper.