So saying, the Cardinal punctuated his surprise by waving his arm towards the rooms, through which a gust of misfortune seemed to have suddenly swept. All the doors had remained wide open: the dressing-room could be seen, and then the passage, at the end of which appeared the dining-room, in a disorderly state, like an apartment suddenly vacated; the table still laid, the napkins flung here and there, and the chairs pushed back. As yet, however, there was no alarm.
Benedetta made the remark which is usually made in such cases: “I hope you haven’t eaten anything which has disagreed with you.”
The Cardinal, smiling, again waved his hand as if to attest the frugality of his table. “Oh!” said he, “there were only some eggs, some lamb cutlets, and a dish of sorrel—they couldn’t have overloaded his stomach. I myself only drink water; he takes just a sip of white wine. No, no, the food has nothing to do with it.”
“Besides, in that case his Eminence and I would also have felt indisposed,” Don Vigilio made bold to remark.
Dario, after momentarily closing his eyes, opened them again, and once more drew a long breath, whilst endeavouring to laugh. “Oh, it will be nothing;” he said. “I feel more at ease already. I must get up and stir myself.”
“In that case,” said Benedetta, “this is what I had thought of. You will take Monsieur l’Abbe Froment and me for a long drive in the Campagna.”
“Willingly. It’s a nice idea. Victorine, help me.”
Whilst speaking he had raised himself by means of one arm; but, before the servant could approach, a slight convulsion seized him, and he fell back again as if overcome by a fainting fit. It was the Cardinal, still standing by the bedside, who caught him in his arms, whilst the Contessina this time lost her head: “Dio, Dio! It has come on him again. Quick, quick, a doctor!”
“Shall I run for one?” asked Pierre, whom the scene was also beginning to upset.
“No, no, not you; stay with me. Victorine will go at once. She knows the address. Doctor Giordano, Victorine.”