"God is very good," he sighed, closing his eyes.
He went so pale that Francois came forward quickly to feel his pulse.
He was silent a moment, then covering the patient's arm with the sheet
again, looked at his watch.
"If only this doctor would come...." he said.
Almost immediately the head doctor from the barracks at Palais was
announced. He was a man of forty, handsome, a little over-important,
but he understood his business well enough. He diagnosed the wound as
a fracture of the head and dressed and bandaged it, promising to
return that evening with a soothing potion.
For Esperance he prescribed a healing lotion for the many little
scratches, which were of no gravity. The girl was so insistent that
she was allowed to watch beside her deliverer. Genevieve and Mlle.
Frahender also stayed in the room, ready in case she needed help. A
dispatch was sent to the Countess.
Quiet redescended on the farm. A heavy atmosphere of sadness seemed to
envelop it. Lunch was served disjointedly, nobody cared to eat.
Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender had been relieved by the maid, but they
were anxious to return to their posts, and when Francois began to fold
his napkin, they pushed back their chairs and quickly returned to the
sick-chamber. The patient was becoming delirious. The name of
Esperance was continually recurrent in his confused talk. Once the
young girl trembled; the Count's expression had become so ferocious
that she was terrified.
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