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.
"I, suffering?" asked Paul. Then he sought to remember, and, all of a sudden, he cried, "The fire over there at the farm!"
Although his memory had not entirely returned, he recollected something.
He hesitated to speak. Then, with an anxious voice, he asked,--
"And Albert?"
"Albert," answered Monsieur Roger, "he is below; and everybody is waiting until you come down to breakfast."
"Then there were no accidents?"
"No."
"How fortunate! I will dress myself and be down in a minute."
And, in fact, in a few minutes Paul was ready, and descended leaning on Monsieur Roger"s arm.
The latter, as they entered the dining-room, made a sign to them that they should all keep silence: he did not wish that they should fatigue the tired mind of the child with premature questions; but when they were sitting at the table, Paul, addressing Albert, said,--
"Tell me what pa.s.sed last night. It is strange I scarcely remember."
"No," said Madame Dalize: "we are at table for breakfast, and we have all need for food,--you, Paul, above all. Come, now, let us eat; a little later we may talk."
[Ill.u.s.tration]
"It is well said," said Monsieur Dalize.
There was nothing to do but to obey. And, indeed, Paul was glad to do so, for he was very hungry. He had lost so much strength that the stomach for the moment was more interesting to him than the brain. They breakfasted, and then they went out upon the lawn before the chateau, under a large walnut-tree, which every day gave its hospitable shade to the Dalize family and their guests.
"Well, my dear Paul," said Monsieur Dalize, "how are you at present?"
"Very well, indeed, sir, very well," answered Paul. "I was a little feeble when I first awoke, but now,--now----"
He stopped speaking; he seemed lost in thought.
"What is the matter?" asked Albert.
"I am thinking of last night at the farm,--the fire."
"Oh, that was nothing," said Albert.
"But," continued Paul, "how did we get back here?"
"In the carriage. Father came for us and brought us home."
"And how did we leave the farm?"
Monsieur Roger followed with rapt attention the workings of Paul"s memory. He was waiting in burning anxiety the moment when Paul should remember. One princ.i.p.al fact, only one thing occupied his attention.
Would Paul remember how and by whom he had been borne from the torpor which was strangling him? Would he remember that cry,--that name which had had the miraculous power to awake him, to bring him back to life? If Paul remembered that, then, perhaps---- And again Monsieur Roger was a prey to his fixed idea,--to his stroke of folly, as Monsieur Dalize called it.
The latter, besides, knew nothing as yet, and Monsieur Roger counted upon the sudden revelation of this extraordinary fact to shake his conviction. But Paul had repeated his question. He asked,--
"How did we leave the farm-house? How were we saved?"
And as Albert did not know whether he should speak, whether he should tell everything, Paul continued:
"But speak, explain to me: I am trying to find out. I cannot remember; and that gives me pain here." And he touched his head.
Monsieur Roger made a sign to Albert, and the latter spoke:
"Well, do you remember the turret, where we had our rooms? You slept above, I below. Do you remember the trap-door that I showed you? In the middle of the night I felt myself awakened by somebody, and I followed him. In my half sleep I thought that this some one was you, my poor friend; but, alas! you remained above; you were sleeping without fear.
Why, it was Monsieur Roger who first saw the danger that you were in."
Paul, while Albert was speaking, had bent his head, seeking in his memory and beginning to put in order his scattered thoughts. When Albert p.r.o.nounced the name of Monsieur Roger, Paul raised his eyes towards him with a look which showed that he would soon remember.
"And afterwards?" said he.
"And afterwards Monsieur Roger climbed upon the roof, at the risk of his life, and reached the loop-hole which opened into your chamber. He broke the gla.s.s of the window; but you did not hear him: the smoke which was issuing through the floor had made you insensible,--had almost asphyxiated you."
"Ah, I remember!" cried Paul. "I was sleeping, and, at the same time, I was not sleeping. I knew that I was exposed to some great danger, but I had not the strength to make a movement. I seemed paralyzed. I heard cries and confused murmurs, sounds of people coming and going. I felt that I ought to rise and flee, but that was impossible. My arms, my legs would not obey me; my eyelids, which I attempted to open, were of lead.
I soon thought that everything was finished, that I was lost; and still I was saying to myself that I might be raised out of this stupor. It seemed to me that the efforts of some one outside might be so, that an order, a prayer might give back to my will the power which it had lost; but the stupor took hold of me more and more intensely. I was going to abandon myself to it, when, all of a sudden, I heard myself called. Yes, somebody called me; but not in the same way that I have been called before. In that cry there was such a command, such a prayer, so much faith, that my will at once recovered strength to make my body obey it.
I roused myself; I saw and I understood, and, luckily, I remembered the trap-door which you had shown me. I could scarcely lift it; but there was some one there,--yes, some one who saved me."
Paul Solange uttered a great cry.
"Ah," said he, "it was Monsieur Roger!" And he ran to throw himself into the arms which Monsieur Roger extended to him.
Miss Miette profited by the occasion to wipe her eyes, which this scene had filled with big tears in spite of herself. Then she turned to Paul, and said,--
"But the one who called to you? Was it true? It was not a dream?"
"Oh, no; it was some one. But who was it?"
"It was Monsieur Roger," answered Albert.
"And so you understood him?" continued Miette, very much interested.
"And he called you loudly by your name, "Paul! Paul!""