The vicomte sprang up.
"You are right, Gontram," he replied; "but if she is dead, I shall die, too, for I love her—I love her more than my life."
"She is no doubt wounded," said Gontram softly.
"Yes, just hold a light here," cried the vicomte. "I will examine her. I have not studied medicine for nothing."
The vicomte laid his ear to her bosom, and then said:
"She lives, but to tell whether there is any hope I must examine her more closely. Gontram, go to my study and bring me the cedar box which stands on my writing-desk."
Gontram left the room, and Spero was alone with the unconscious girl. Placing his hand upon her white forehead, he bent over the young girl and tenderly murmured:
"Poor dear child! Why did you wish to die? Oh, Jane, Jane! you must live—live for me, and no power on earth shall tear you from me!"
He pressed his lips upon her pale mouth, and with this kiss his soul was bound to that of the young girl.
Gontram now returned; Spero opened the box and took an instrument from it.