But the poor child could say no more. Strength and courage were alike exhausted. Every vestige of colour fled from her lips; her eyes closed, her head fell back, her limbs gave way under her, and she would have fallen if Herminie had not caught her in her arms.
"She has fainted!" cried the duchess. "Help me carry her into my room, M. Olivier."
"And I—I am the cause of all this trouble," said the commander, following Olivier and Herminie with tottering steps as they carried Ernestine into Herminie's room. "Poor child," he murmured; "what a kind heart she has! What courage she displayed!"
The duchess, having placed Ernestine in the armchair, removed her hat and pushed back from the pure white brow her beautiful chestnut hair, which rolled down in heavy, shining waves upon her shoulders; then, while Olivier supported the girl's unconscious head, Herminie with a soft handkerchief staunched the blood which was flowing from a slight wound a little way above the temple.
The old sailor stood near, watching this touching scene, his lips trembling, and unable to utter a word, while big tears dropped slowly down from his eyes upon his white moustache.
"Support her, M. Olivier, while I go for some cold water and a little cologne," said Herminie.
She returned almost immediately with a handsome china basin, and a bottle of cologne, and, after sponging the wound lightly with a mixture of cologne and water, Herminie poured a little cologne in the palm of her hand and made Mlle. de Beaumesnil inhale it.
Gradually Ernestine's pale lips recovered their wonted colour and a slight flush succeeded the pallor in her cheeks.
"Heaven be praised! She is recovering consciousness," whispered Herminie, gathering up the orphan's long tresses and securing them with her shell comb.
Olivier, who had seemed deeply affected by the scene, now said to the duchess, who was standing beside the armchair, supporting Mlle. de Beaumesnil's head on her bosom: