He
could have kissed it.
"Oh, ho!" said Vautrin, "the Italians have a good proverb--_Col
tempo_."
"Is there any answer?" said Mme. de Nucingen's messenger, addressing
Eugene.
"Say that I will come directly."
The man went. Eugene was in a state of such violent excitement that he
could not be prudent.
"What is to be done?" he exclaimed aloud. "There are no proofs!"
Vautrin began to smile. Though the drug he had taken was doing its
work, the convict was so vigorous that he rose to his feet, gave
Rastignac a look, and said in hollow tones, "Luck comes to us while we
sleep, young man," and fell stiff and stark, as if he were struck
dead.
"So there is a Divine Justice!" said Eugene.
"Well, if ever! What has come to that poor dear M. Vautrin?"
"A stroke!" cried Mlle. Michonneau.
"Here, Sylvie! girl, run for the doctor," called the widow. "Oh, M.
Rastignac, just go for M. Bianchon, and be as quick as you can; Sylvie
might not be in time to catch our doctor, M. Grimprel."
Rastignac was glad of an excuse to leave that den of horrors, his
hurry for the doctor was nothing but a flight.
"Here, Christophe, go round to the chemist's and ask for something
that's good for the apoplexy.
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