And breaking through the compact group of his newly found friends he made a wild dash for the door.
But the excitement, the terrible keenness of this disappointment had been too much for him, after the strenuous fatigues and the overpowering heat of the day. The dizziness turned to an intolerable feeling of sickness, the walls of the room spun round and round him, he felt as if a stunning blow had been dealt him on the head, and with a final shriek of "Stop her!" he staggered and would have fallen headlong, but that a pair of willing arms were there to break his fall.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE STRANGER
It was M. des Coutures—a middle-aged man, military governor of Le Havre—who had caught Gaston de Stainville in his arms when the latter all but lost consciousness. A dozen willing pairs of hands were now ready to administer to the guest's comforts, from the loosening of his cravat to the pulling off of his heavy riding boots.
"The mulled wine was too heavy for him," said M. le Maire Valledieu, "no doubt he had been fasting some hours and his stomach refused to deal with it."
"Tell the kitchen wench to hurry with that supper, Jean Marie," said Mortémar to mine host, "he'll be himself again when he has eaten."
"If there's a plate of soup ready, bring that," added M. Valledieu. "Anything's better than an empty paunch."
"I thank you, friends," now murmured Stainville feebly. "I fear me I must have turned giddy . . . the heat and . . ."
He was recovering quickly enough. It had been mere dizziness caused by fatigue; and then that awful blow which had staggered him physically as well as mentally! His newly found friends had dragged him back to the table close to the open window: the keen sea-breeze quickly restored him to complete consciousness.