He took the prescription which Dr. Durocher had rapidly traced on a leaf of his pocketbook, mounted his horse, and departed.
The highroad was fortunately not far distant. When he reached it he rode like the phantom horseman.
It was nine o’clock when Madame de Tecle witnessed his departure—it was a few moments after ten when she heard the tramp of his horse at the foot of the hill and ran to the door of the hut. The condition of the two children seemed to have grown worse in the interval, but the old doctor had great hopes in the remedies which Camors was to bring. She waited with impatience, and received him like the dawn of the last hope. She contented herself with pressing his hand, when, breathless, he descended from his horse. But this adorable creature threw herself on Trilby, who was covered with foam and steaming like a furnace.
“Poor Trilby,” she said, embracing him in her two arms, “dear Trilby—good Trilby! you are half dead, are you not? But I love you well. Go quickly, Monsieur de Camors, I will attend to Trilby”—and while the young man entered the cabin, she confided Trilby to the charge of her servant, with orders to take him to the stable, and a thousand minute directions to take good care of him after his noble conduct. Dr. Durocher had to obtain the aid of Camors to pass the new medicine through the clenched teeth of the unfortunate children. While both were engaged in this work, Madame de Tecle was sitting on a stool with her head resting against the cabin wall. Durocher suddenly raised his eyes and fixed them on her.
“My dear Madame,” he said, “you are ill. You have had too much excitement, and the odors here are insupportable. You must go home.”
“I really do not feel very well,” she murmured.
“You must go at once. We shall send you the news. One of your servants will take you home.”
She raised herself, trembling; but one look from the young wife of the sabot-maker arrested her. To this poor woman, it seemed that Providence deserted her with Madame de Tecle.
“No!” she said with a divine sweetness; “I will not go. I shall only breathe a little fresh air. I will remain until they are safe, I promise you;” and she left the room smiling upon the poor woman. After a few minutes, Durocher said to M. de Camors:
“My dear sir, I thank you—but I really have no further need of your services; so you too may go and rest yourself, for you also are growing pale.”