"Has he passed a good night?"
"Excellent," answered Monsieur Roger, in a low tone; "but we must let him sleep as long as he can. Give orders that no noise shall be made around here and that no one shall enter. He must awake of his own accord. When he awakes he will only feel a slight fatigue."
"Then I am going to give these orders and tell the good news," said Monsieur Dalize.
He retired as softly as he had entered, but by accident, near the door, he stumbled against a chair. He stopped, holding his breath; but Roger made a sign that he could go on. The slight noise had not awakened Paul, or at least had not awakened him completely; he had turned around upon his bed for the first time since he had been placed there. Monsieur Roger, who never took his eyes off him, understood that he was dreaming. The dream seemed to be a painful one, for some feeble groans and murmurs escaped him. Then upon the face of the sleeping child appeared an expression of great fear. Monsieur Roger did not wish to leave Paul a prey to such a dream. He approached near to raise him a little upon the bed. The moment that Monsieur Roger's two hands softly touched Paul's head, the expression of fear disappeared, the features became quiet and calm, the groans ceased, and suddenly there escaped his lips the single word "Papa."
Monsieur Roger started. With his trembling hands he still sustained the child; he bent over, ready to embrace him, forgetting that the child was sleeping and dreaming. Monsieur Roger was about to utter the name which choked him,—"My son."
Then Paul Solange opened his eyes. He looked up dreamily; then he recognized the face before him, and surprise mingled with affection in his tones.
"Monsieur Roger!" he said.
He looked around him, saw that he was in his own room, and remembered nothing else. He asked,—
"Why are you here, Monsieur Roger?"
Mastering himself, Monsieur Roger answered that he had come to find out how Paul was, as he had seen him suffering the night before.