Esperance began to cry bitterly.
Meantime Maurice was returning with the victoria in which were M. and Madame Darbois. The wagon was sent on its way very slowly. François stepped down quickly and took his daughter in his arms, intending to carry her to the carriage.
"My father, I am able to walk…." she stifled with sobs. "But he…."
The philosopher put her in the victoria beside her mother, and begged Jean to stay with them. Then he rejoined the cart, and climbed up beside Maurice who was supporting the limp head on the hay.
The professor had studied a little medicine. He could see that the wound was grave, but the young man was robust and he allowed himself to hope.
Maurice recounted the accident with all its details.
"Brave fellow," said François, taking the cold hand. And tears, he could scarcely restrain, began to fill his eyes.
Soon they all arrived at the farm. Marguerite, as she had been instructed, had prepared the Darbois's room to receive the wounded man. Esperance, exhausted, was put to bed, and was soon asleep, watched over by Mlle. Frahender, who prayed silently, counting over her rosary.
They had difficulty in moving Albert Styvens. His great body was heavy and difficult to raise. Finally, after they had washed and bound up his head, they succeeded in undressing him and making him as comfortable as possible in the great bed.
A quarter of an hour later he opened his eyes, and, in response to the anxious faces leaning over him, smiled sweetly.