It seemed to me that an hour had passed since the doctor went up. But I heard steps coming down, and someone called me; it was Ernest. Joy gleamed in his eyes, and he cried:
“My friend, my friend, she is saved; there is no more danger!”
“Ah! I am so glad to hear it!”
We shook hands. He had called me his friend, and a few hours earlier we had hardly known each other; but there are events which bind two people more closely than sixty evenings passed together in society. It was one of those events which had happened to us.
The surgeon came downstairs and Ernest ran to meet him.
“Are you going, monsieur? Then she is out of danger?” he asked.
“Yes, yes, have no fear; everything is all right now, and as it should be; I will answer for her; all she needs now is rest.”
“But you will come to-morrow morning, won’t you, monsieur?”
“Yes, I will come to see her to-morrow.”
With that the doctor went away and Ernest followed him to the street door, gazing at him, and listening to him as to an oracle. Ah! that is a noble art which gives us the means of saving the lives of our fellowmen. The man who has saved the life of a person whom we love ceases to be a man in our eyes, and becomes a god.