The calmness, the silence of this scene, which I seized at one glance, made such an impression upon me that for an instant I stood rooted to the threshold.
Madame de Fersen turned towards the clock, then shook her head, with a gesture of despair.
I understood, she was beginning to lose faith in me.
I pushed the door open.
Catherine saw me; in an instant she was at my side, and drawing me to the cot, she said, in a heartrending tone, "Save her! have pity on me, and save her!"
Madame de Fersen's voice was low and broken; her beautiful face was tear-stained and worn; yet under this appearance of weakness one felt the superhuman energy which always sustains a mother, so long as her child needs her.
"One moment," said Doctor Ralph, in a low, solemn voice. "This is our last hope, let us not take too great a risk."
The unhappy woman hid her face in her hands.
"I have told you, madame," said the doctor, showing a vial containing a dark liquid, "this potion will restore this child to consciousness, will light up the faint spark of intelligence which still remains, perhaps. Then the sight of the person who exercises on her so strange an influence may work a miracle, for, alas! madame, nothing but a miracle can bring your child back to life."
"I know it, I know it," said Catherine, choking back her tears, "I am prepared for the worst. But, tell me, the potion,—what effect will it have?"