“I foresaw it plainly,” said the young doctor rather spitefully, “and told you so an hour ago, Monsieur Stangstadius, when he received that letter at the hunting pavilion, that disturbed him so; as he read it, his very features grew distorted. It is not my fault if you have forgotten what I said. I did everything in my power to prevent his lordship from going to the hunt. He would not listen to anything; the most he would consent to, was to allow me to accompany him in his sleigh.”
“By heavens! a valuable assistant you are! If I had not offered to return with the two of you, when I saw that he was not in a condition to hunt, he would probably have stifled here. You would not have had presence of mind enough—”
“You are very hard upon young people, Monsieur Professor,” replied the physician, more and more offended; “there is some excuse for losing your presence of mind when you have just been thrown ten feet out of a sleigh, and are no sooner up again than you are called upon to judge, at the first glance, of what is perhaps a hopeless case.”
“A fine matter, truly, a fall in the snow!” said M. Stangstadius, shrugging the one shoulder which was obedient to his will. “If you had fallen, as I did, into the bottom of the shaft of a well! A fall of fifty feet, seven inches, and five lines, a swoon lasting six hours, fifty-three—”
“Goodness gracious! Monsieur Professor, it is the swoon of my patient that I am troubled about, and not yours! What is past is past. Will you be so good as to hold his arm, while I look for a ligature?”
“No, not at all; the fact is that there are some people who complain about everything,” continued Stangstadius, coming and going, without listening to the doctor.
Then, forgetting that he had just been in a terrible rage against Christian, the quick-tempered, but really good-natured worthy, turned gayly to him.
“Did I so much as turn pale,” he said, “when I found myself under those four animals—without counting the two others, you and your comrade? Two awkward clowns, be it said in passing! But what matter a few bruises more or less, after all? I did not even think of myself! I was all ready to give an opinion about the invalid, and to bleed him. My eye rapid and sure, my hand firm!—How now—where the devil have I seen you?” he continued, still addressing Christian, and forgetting all about the sick man. “Did you kill all these beasts? There is a fine prize, to be sure, a bear of the large kind, the brown species with blue eyes! When one thinks that that imbecile of a Buffon—But where did you meet with it? It is rare in this country!”
“You must excuse me from replying, at present,” said Christian; “the doctor requires my help.”
“Let him alone—let the blood flow;” remarked the geologist, quietly.