"Go to sleep, mon cher," said Laurent.
"I would, only . . . it's so odd, every now and then I am in the wood again . . . I can count the trees—nine beeches, and the may-tree, and——"
"What!" exclaimed M. Perrelet, turning round "—still there? Be off at once!"
So Laurent threw himself on his bed and slept till nearly sunrise. Then, feeling suddenly wakeful, he thought he would see if M. Perrelet would let him relieve his vigil for a little.
In spite of the prohibition he crept downstairs to Aymar's door. He heard his voice, so he must be awake. He opened the door gently without knocking. Before he had time to get inside, M. Perrelet was on him, and, driving him back into the passage, closed the door behind them both.
"What do you want?" he demanded quite fiercely. "I thought I told you I would not have you here!"
"I'm so sorry——" began Laurent meekly.
"Then don't come again!" snapped the doctor, and he went in as quickly as he had come out.
"And I was going to do him a good turn!" thought Laurent, as half ruefully, half thankfully he went back to bed.