Henry looked at the doctor, and saw the smile of satisfaction that played upon his usually stern features. It augured hope—more than hope; and, as the wrecked mariner clings to the disjointed spar, his mind fastened upon that smile as the forerunner of a blissful reunion with her his soul cherished.
"Be calm, sir, be calm; she is safe," continued Dr. Vaudelier.
"Do you know it?" almost shouted Henry, attempting to rise.
"Be quiet, sir," said the doctor, in a voice approaching to sternness; "be quiet, or I shall regret that I gave you reason to hope."
"Where is she?" asked Henry, sinking back at the doctor's reproof, and heeding not the darting pain his attempt to rise had produced.
"She is safe; let this suffice. I see you cannot bear more now."
"I can bear anything, sir, anything. I will be as gentle as a lamb, if you will tell me all you know of her."
"If you keep entirely quiet, we will, in a few days, let her speak for herself."
"Then she is safe; she has escaped every danger?"
"She has."