I did not look at the servant of the Hôtel Dieu. The old noble and I held each other with unflinching gaze.
"Do you recognize him, monsieur?"
"I do," the old noble deliberately answered. "I should know this face anywhere. Have him taken to my carriage directly."
"Your carriage, monsieur! He can be sent—"
"I said take him to my carriage."
"It shall be done. His eyes have opened since he came in. But they sometimes look as if they would speak! Their faces change constantly. This other man who is grinning to-night may be quite serious to-morrow."
"And by the end of the month sorry enough, eh?"
The servant of the Hôtel Dieu tittered amiably, and I knew he was going for help to lift me off the slab, when he uttered a cry of surprise. The old marquis wheeled sharply, and said:
"Eh, bien! Is this another of them, promenading himself?"
I felt the Oneida coming before his silent moccasins strode near me. He did not wait an instant, but dragged me from the wet and death cold marble to the stone floor, where he knelt upon one knee and supported me. O Skenedonk! how delicious was the warmth of your healthy body—how comforting the grip of your hunter arms! Yet there are people who say an Indian is like a snake! I could have given thanks before the altar at the side of the crypt, which my fixed eyes encountered as he held me. The marble dripped into its gutter as if complaining of my escape.