"What do you think of his condition?" said Maulear.
"The great Felix Fontana says, in such cases there is no safety. Lazarus Spallanzini, however, another savant of the eighteenth century, published at Venice, in 1767, in the Giornole D'Italia, an admirable dissertation on wounds caused by the bite of reptiles, especially on those of the vipers. Treating of suction and its consequences, he points out a means of cure for it. It is however so terrible and dangerous that I know not if I should use it."
"Use it, sir. There is," said Maulear, "only the alternative of it and death."
"The man will live, but in all probability will never speak again." He waited for Maulear's answer.
"May I consult the family?" said the young man. "I will have returned in an hour."
"In ten minutes," said the doctor, "he will be dead."
"Act quickly, then, monsieur: all his friends would act as I do."
The physician left: in a few minutes he returned with one of his assistants, bearing a red hot iron. Maulear shuddered. The physician placed the patient in a great arm-chair, to which he fastened him with strong straps of leather. Then, when he was satisfied that no spasm or motion of the unfortunate man would interrupt the operation, he placed a speculum in his mouth. The speculum in its expansion tore apart the jaws of Tonio, and kept them distended, so that the interior orifice of the throat could be seen. Seizing the hot iron, he plunged it into the throat of the unhappy man, turned back the palate from the tongue, and moved it several times about, while the agonizing guttural cries of the patient were mingled with the sharp hissing of the iron. Torrents of tears filled his eyes. At this terrible spectacle Maulear fainted.
III.—THE CONCERT.