That lasted for an eternity of time, during which I never moved. I let death do its work and I waited until it had finished. Gradually, however, I became aware of a lull, and the grip on the victim seemed to relax.
Dauche’s body remained rigid, inert. A feeble moan escaped his lips.
At the same moment I recovered from my stupor and, in spite of my paralysed will, I set about removing from this place what had once been my friend.
In raising him from the ground I suffered terrible pain. His muscles were contracted and he was terribly heavy. I caught hold of him with my arms round his body and carried him with his breast on mine, like a sleeping child. A thin stream of frothy saliva oozed from the corners of his mouth, as from the snouts of cattle in harness. His head began to sway heavily.
Night was falling. I had to put my burden down every few yards, then take it up again.
My wound caused me acute suffering, but my mind was benumbed and my movements almost involuntary.
I do not know how I came within sight of the Château. On reaching the foot of the hill, suddenly, in the bend of an avenue, I met the doctor, who had been taking a solitary walk. It was almost dark; I did not see the expression on his face.
I placed the body on the ground, kneeled down beside it, my face streaming with perspiration, and said, “Here he is.” Then I began to weep.
There were cries, shouts and lights. They carried away Dauche’s body, and I was carried too.