"Yes, thanks to this worthy man, you still live for me, my father, and therefore allow me to join you in thanking and consoling him."
The prince's perplexity was very great. His daughter evinced so much just fear of remaining alone in a room in this low haunt that he made up his mind to allow her to enter with him into the apartment, where they found the Chourineur.
The mistress of the tavern and many of the women who had remained (and amongst whom was the ogress of the tapis-franc) had hastily laid the wounded man on a mattress, and then stanched and bound his wound with napkins. The Chourineur opened his eyes as Rodolph entered. At the sight of the prince his features, pale with approaching death, became animated. He smiled painfully, and said in a low voice:
"Ah, M. Rodolph, it was very fortunate I was there!"
"Brave and devoted as ever!" said the prince, in an accent of despair. "Again you have saved my life!"
"I was going to the barrier of—Charenton—to try and see you go by—see you for the last time. Fortunately—I was unable to get in for the crowd—besides—it was—to happen—I told Martial so—I had a presentiment."
"A presentiment?"
"Yes, M. Rodolph—the dream—of the sergeant—last night."
"Oh, try and forget such ideas! Let us hope the wound is not mortal."
"Oh, yes, the Skeleton struck home! Never mind—I told Martial that a worm of the earth like me—might sometimes be useful—to a great lord—like you."