"Marguerite! Marguerite!"
At the alarmed voice of the doctor, Frederick, who had remained in the library, rushed to his mother's chamber, followed by David, who, forgetting all propriety, and yielding to an irresistible impulse, wished to see the woman he was about to leave, for the last time.
"Frederick, support your mother," cried Doctor Dufour, "and you, Henri, go quick for some cold water in the dining-room—somewhere. I do not know where Marguerite is."
David ran to execute the doctor's orders, while Frederick, supporting his mother in his arms, for she was almost without consciousness, said to the doctor, in a broken voice:
"Oh, my God! this fainting fit, how long it lasts! how pale she is! Help, help!"
Marguerite suddenly appeared; her distorted features presented a singular expression of astonishment, terror, and satisfaction.
"Doctor," cried she, almost breathless, "if you only knew!"
"Pierre, here is what you asked me for," said David, running and giving him a bottle filled with fresh water, of which the doctor poured out several spoonfuls in a cup.
Then addressing the servant in a low voice, he said:
"Marguerite, give me that vial, there on the chimneypiece. But what is the matter with you?" added Doctor Dufour, as he saw the old servant standing still and trembling in every limb. "Speak, do speak!"