"What does it mean? Has my experiment indeed given her a few more hours of life?" he wondered, gladly.
It seemed so, for the thread-like pulse gradually grew stronger, and bending down his head, he caught a faint but regular breathing.
"Marie," he said, softly, and a quickened breath that was almost a gasp assured him that she heard. "I am here by your side," he went on. "It is dark, and I have used all the matches, so I can not watch your face to see if you are better. Can you speak to me, dear?"
"Monsieur," she uttered, faintly, and his heart leaped with joy at the sound.
"You are better," he exclaimed, and she murmured a faint:
"Yes."
Then she seemed to fall asleep. He fought bravely against the deathly weakness that was stealing over him. A passionate prayer was in his heart:
"Lord, send us help before it is too late!"
Hours seemed to pass while he sat there in a strange half-stupor that most likely would merge into delirium, as hers had done. Oh, the gnawings of hunger, the pangs of thirst, how terrible they were!
"Yet, thank Heaven, I have lightened hers for a little while by the life-fluid I freely gave!" he muttered.