"What do you mean, Pierre?" cried David, as he saw the physician directing his steps to Marie's chamber, "what are you going to do?"
"My duty," replied the doctor.
And, leaving David and Frederick in the library, he entered Madame Bastien's chamber.
CHAPTER XL.
WHEN Doctor Dufour entered Madame Bastien's room, he found her in bed, and Marguerite seated by her pillow.
Marie, whose beauty was so radiant the evening before, was pale and exhausted; a burning fever coloured her cheeks and made her large blue eyes glitter under her heavy, half-closed eyelids; from time to time, a sharp, dry cough racked her bosom, upon which the sick woman frequently pressed her hand, as if to suppress a keen, agonising pain.
At the sight of the doctor, Madame Bastien said to her servant:
"Leave us, Marguerite."
"Well, how are you?" said the doctor, when they were left alone.
"This cough pains me and tears my chest, my good doctor; my sleep has been disturbed by dreadful dreams, the effect of the fever, no doubt, but, we will not speak of that," added Marie with an accent of angelic resignation. "I wish to consult you upon important matters, good doctor, and I must hurry, for, two or three times since I awoke, I have felt my thoughts slipping away from me."