"Merciful God! that must not be," cried Irene, wringing her hands. "We must run to the hospital and tell all."
"Who is the physician that is going to undertake the autopsy?" asked Girdel.
"Doctor Albaret, as I was informed."
"Then rely on me, countess," cried the athlete, rushing away; "either I rescue Fanfaro or else I die with him."
CHAPTER XXV
FROM SCYLLA TO CHARYBDIS
Bobichel unfortunately had not said too much. The fact that Fanfaro had dropped dead so suddenly had caused great excitement in the scientific world, and Dr. Albaret, the king's private physician, was the first to propose the autopsy. His colleagues immediately consented, and Fanfaro was at once brought to the Hotel Dieu and placed upon the marble table in the anatomy room. The attendants busily rushed here and there, and while they brought in the necessary instruments—lances, needles, knives, saws and bandages,—numerous disciples of Esculapius stood about the dead man and admired his beautiful proportions and strong muscles.
"He could have lived to a hundred years," said the physician, as he beat Fanfaro's breast, and his colleagues agreed with him. Fanfaro lay like a marble statue upon the table; the dark locks covered the pale forehead, and a painful expression lay over the firmly closed lips. Did the poor fellow suspect that he would become a victim of science and be delivered over to the knife?