Karvel—"We have many wounded in Lavaur. My first assistance was due to them. You have summoned me in the name of humanity. I have come, madam, to fill a sacred duty."
Alyx of Montmorency—"At times it pleases the Lord to avail Himself of the most perverse instruments in behalf of His elect!"
Karvel (smiles at the singular reception and approaches the couch of Simon whose haggard face and fixed eyes seem to give no sign of intelligence. After a long and attentive examination of the patient, after placing his hand on the count's forehead, slightly touching his parched lips with his fingers and consulting his pulse, addresses the countess)—"Your husband must be quickly bled, madam. (Saying this he draws from his pocket a reticule that contains a red cloth band and lancets; he picks out one of these and adds) Kindly draw this table and candle nearer, madam; I shall then want your assistance to support your husband's arm. The silver basin that I see on yonder shelf will serve to receive the blood in. I recommend to you, madam, not to allow the count to bend his arm when I prick it. There is an artery that my lancet might cut, if the arm is not held steady—and that would prove mortal."
Alyx of Montmorency (impassible)—"My husband can die. He is in the state of grace."
For an instant stupefied by such frigid insensibility, Karvel stays his hand, but his professional instinct resumes the ascendency, and he boldly and dexterously lances the vein, from which a jet of thick black blood immediately issues and falls steaming into the silver basin.
Karvel—"What black blood! The bleeding will, I hope, save your husband, madam!"
Alyx of Montmorency—"The will of God be done! May His name be glorified."
The patient's blood continues to flow into the silver vessel. Only the muffled and continued sound of the trickling blood interrupts the otherwise profound silence of the chamber. The Perfect attentively watches the count's face and notices the gradual manifestations of the beneficent effect produced by the blood letting. The patient's skin, until then parched and burning, is gradually suffused with a copious perspiration. His chest is relieved. His fixed eyes are soon covered by their lids. Karvel again consults the count's pulse, and cries delighted: "He is saved!"
Alyx of Montmorency (raising her eyes to the ceiling)—"Lord, since it pleases You to leave my husband in this valley of tears and misery—may Your will be done! May Your holy name be glorified!"
Karvel stops the flow of the blood with the red bandage, which he rolls around the count's arm. He then steps to the casket that he brought with him and which he placed upon a table, takes from it several vials and prepares a potion. Montfort's condition improves as if by enchantment. He gradually recovers from his lethargy, and heaves a sigh of profound relief. The Perfect finishes the preparation of the potion, steps back to the couch and says to the countess: