"He is saved!" he said to Monsieur Dalize.
At that very moment Paul Solange opened his eyes; but he closed them again, as if a heavy sleep, stronger than his will, were weighing upon his eyelids. Again he opened them, and looked with an undecided look, without understanding. At that moment they arrived at the house. Everybody was on foot. The fire at the farm had been perceived by others besides the watchman. They had all risen from their beds, and Madame Dalize, awakened by the noise, had, unfortunately, learned the terrible news. She was awaiting in cruel agony the return of her husband. At last she saw him driving the carriage and bringing with him the beings who were dear to her. Paul, leaning on the arms of Monsieur Roger and Albert, was able to cross the slight distance which separated them from the vestibule. There Monsieur Roger made him sit down in an arm-chair, near the window, which he opened wide. Monsieur and Madame Dalize and Albert stood beside Paul, looking at him silently and uneasily; but they were reassured by the expression of Monsieur Roger. With common accord they left him the care of his dear patient. Monsieur Roger was looking at Paul with tender eyes,—an expression of happiness, of joy, illumined his face: and this expression, which Monsieur Dalize had not seen for long years upon the face of his friend, seemed to him incomprehensible, for he was still ignorant of the extraordinary thing that had happened. At this moment, Miss Miette, in her night-cap, hardly taking time to dress herself, rushed into the vestibule. Her childish sleep had been interrupted by the tumult in the house. She had run down half awake.
"Mamma, Mamma," she cried, "what is the matter?"
Then, as she ran to throw herself upon her mother's knees, she saw the arm-chair and Paul sitting in it. She stopped at once, and, before they had the time or the thought of stopping her, she had taken Paul's hands, saying to him, very sadly,—
"Paul, Paul, are you sick?"
Paul's eyes, which until this time had remained clouded and as if fixed upon something which he could not see, turned to Miette. Little by little they brightened as his senses returned to him: his eyes commenced to sparkle. He looked, and, with a soft but weary voice, he murmured,—
"Miette, my little Miette."
Then he turned his head, trying to find out where it was he found himself, who were the people around him.
"What has happened?" he asked.