"Parricide!" shrieked the countess, "you have done this! You have killed your father! The agitation occasioned by your taking him to that house and letting him see that unhappy girl has caused this attack; if he should die you will be his murderer!"
What reply could Maurice make which would not enrage her more? The countess went on, furiously,—
"Go,—bring him back to me quickly! He shall not remain there! By all that is holy, he shall not."
"I come to ask you to go to him since he cannot come to you," said Maurice, with as much mildness as he could throw into his tone.
"Yes, I will go, I will go!" replied his grandmother. "I cannot trust you; I will go myself, and see him brought here."
She retired to her own chamber to make ready, and Bertha quickly followed her example.
Meantime Madeleine with Mrs. Lawkins, watched beside the count. His attack was briefer than the former ones. When it was over, he fell into a deep and placid slumber. During that sleep his face changed! Those who have watched the dying and recognized the indescribable expression which marks the countenance when it is "death-struck" will understand what alteration is meant. He waked slowly and gently,—first stirring his hands as though clutching at something impalpable, then gradually opening his eyes. They looked large and glassy, but as they fixed themselves upon Madeleine's face, bespoke full consciousness.
"Madeleine!" he murmured feebly; but his voice was distinct, and pathetically tender. "I am with you again, Madeleine,—that is great happiness,—great comfort, I am going soon, Madeleine;—do you not know it?"
"Oh! I fear so!" answered Madeleine, weeping; "but you do not suffer? You are calm?"