"You need not hear me, unless you please," she answered, peevishly, and then continued, in the same low and irregular voice, "Well, I was saying, that I had a third motive--it was this, that I knew something that no one else knew; and I knew it, because, after I was sent away from Dumont, I lodged for some time in the house of old Madame----"
I lost the name, and her voice became more and more indistinct, but still she went on:--"She used to attend sick people, you know, at Estienne, and though she had been sworn to secrecy, yet----"
But her words became quite unintelligible, and perceiving that I did not understand her, she paused, and gazed in my face with a painful stare of anger and disappointment, as if my want of attention had been the cause of my not comprehending what she said. I saw that death was approaching fast, and I asked, in charity, "Would you wish to see your husband, Suzette?"
She made an effort to raise herself upon her arm, as she exclaimed distinctly, "I hate him!" but immediately sunk back upon the pillow. In answer to another question, as to whether she would wish to see a minister of religion, she raised her hand, and bowed her head, in token of acquiescence; and, rising, I proceeded to seek for Father Ferdinand.
I was told that he was in the chamber of Monsieur de Villardin, with Laura, and old Jerome Laborde; and, taking the liberty which had always been granted me of entering the Duke's apartments in the hours of sickness, I proceeded immediately thither, in search of the good confessor.
Father Ferdinand was engaged in writing a paper for Monsieur de Villardin, who, as I entered, held up his finger to me to keep silence till it was completed, which was not long in being done. The Duke then read it over attentively, and turning slightly in his bed, affixed his signature to it. The Count de Laval, who was also in the room, next advanced and took the pen; and I could see the eyes of Laura, who was sitting by her father's pillow, glance from him to me, beaming up as they did so, with a look full of affection and hope. When the Count had signed it, Laura also put her name, and Jerome and Father Ferdinand added their own, as witnesses.
"Monsieur de Juvigny," said Monsieur de Villardin, speaking in a low voice, which was evidently modulated from caution more than from weakness, "what were you going to say?"
"I was merely about to tell Father Ferdinand," I replied, "that that unhappy woman, Suzette, is below, dying, and that she requires the aid of the church, with speed."
Father Ferdinand instantly rose to seek her, but Monsieur de Villardin made a sign to him to pause for a moment, and, beckoning me closer to him, he gave me the paper which he had just signed. "Although I believe that I have been much nearer death than I am at present," he said, "yet as all wounds such as I have received are uncertain in their consequences, I have thought fit, my dear boy, as far as possible, to put your happiness, and that of my dear Laura, beyond further doubt. If I survive, I myself will join your hands; if not, that paper will remove all difficulty on the part of others. Nay, do not thank me, de Juvigny; Monsieur le Comte here has behaved most nobly, and requires the gratitude of all; but I have only acted now as I should have acted long ago. Now, my dear sir," he added, speaking to the confessor, "seek the poor creature who desires your presence. Perhaps when the surgeons arrive, I may wish you and de Juvigny to be with me also; but, in the meantime, I would willingly pass half an hour alone. Nay, leave me, dear Laura, and look not sad. Things will go well, I am sure."
We all, accordingly, left the room. Father Ferdinand betook himself to the bedside of Suzette. The emotions in the bosom of Laura, both pleasurable and painful, were too many and too mixed to admit of words, and she immediately retired to her chamber; while old Jerome proceeded to bustle about in discharge of the various functions of his office, so that the moment after we had left Monsieur de Villardin, the Count and myself were left alone. My feelings towards him at that instant would not be very easily defined even now, nor did I very well know how to demean myself towards him, so as to express my sense of his noble and feeling conduct, without abating my own dignity.