"Paul!" he cried.
"Calm yourself," Monsieur Roger hastened to say: "he has only fainted. It is nothing; but we shall have to take him home."
"The carriage is ready."
"Then everything is for the best."
Paul was seated in the carriage, between Albert and Monsieur Roger. The latter had placed his left arm under Paul's head to sustain him. The poor child was still insensible; but there could be no better remedy for him than the fresh air of the night,—the fresh air which the rapid movement of the carriage caused to penetrate into his lungs. Monsieur Dalize, who drove, turned around frequently, looking at Roger. The latter held in his right hand Paul Solange's hand, and from time to time placed his ear against the boy's breast.
"Well?" said Monsieur Dalize, anxiously.
"His pulse is still insensible," answered Monsieur Roger; "but stop your horse for a moment."
The carriage stopped. Then, being no longer interfered with by the noise, Monsieur Roger again applied his ear, and said,—
"His heart beats; it beats very feebly, but it beats. Now go ahead."
Again the carriage started. At the end of some minutes, Monsieur Roger, who still held Paul's wrist between his fingers, suddenly felt beneath the pulsations of the radial artery. He cried out, with a loud voice, but it was a cry of joy,—