Pale and speechless, Fabio rose from his chair, and made a sign in the affirmative. He trembled so that the doctor who had first spoken was obliged to lead him out of the room.
“Your mistress has some near relations in Pisa, has she not?” said the doctor from Florence, appealing to the servant who waited near him.
“Her father, sir, Signor Luca Lomi; and her uncle, Father Rocco,” answered the man. “They were here all through the day, until my mistress fell asleep.”
“Do you know where to find them now?”
“Signor Luca told me he should be at his studio, and Father Rocco said I might find him at his lodgings.”
“Send for them both directly. Stay, who is your mistress’s confessor? He ought to be summoned without loss of time.”
“My mistress’s confessor is Father Rocco, sir.”
“Very well—send, or go yourself, at once. Even minutes may be of importance now.” Saying this, the doctor turned away, and sat down to wait for any last demands on his services, in the chair which Fabio had just left.