"M. de Charny is delirious already, and in his delirium he says a number of things rather delicate for the gentlemen of the guard to hear."
"Doctor!"
"Oh, madame! you should not question me, if you do not wish to hear my answers."
"Well, then, dear doctor, is he an atheist? Does he blaspheme?"
"Oh, no! he is on the contrary a devotee."
The queen a.s.sumed a look of sang-froid. "M. de Charny," she said, "interests me. He is the nephew of M. de Suffren, and has besides rendered me personal services. I wish to be a friend to him. Tell me, therefore, the exact truth."
"But I cannot tell you, madame. If your majesty wishes to know, the only way is to hear him yourself."
"But if he says such strange things?"
"Things which your majesty ought to hear."
"But," said the queen, "I cannot move a step here, without some charitable spy watching me."
"I will answer for your security. Come through my private way, and I will lock the door after us."
"I trust to you, then, dear doctor." And she followed him, burning with curiosity.
When they reached the second door the doctor put his ear to the keyhole.
"Is your patient in there, doctor?"
"No, madame, or you would have heard him at the end of the corridor.
Even here you can hear his voice."
"He groans."
"No, he speaks loud and distinct."
"But I cannot go in to him."
"I do not mean you to do so. I only wish you to listen in the adjoining room, where you will hear without being seen." They went on, and the doctor entered the sick-room alone.
Charny, still dressed in his uniform, was making fruitless efforts to rise, and was repeating to himself his interview with the German lady in the coach. "German!" he cried--"German! Queen of France!"
"Do you hear, madame?"
"It is frightful," continued Charny, "to love an angel, a woman--to love her madly--to be willing to give your life for her; and when you come near her, to find her only a queen--of velvet and of gold, of metal and of silk, and no heart."
"Oh! oh!" cried the doctor again.
"I love a married woman!" Charny went on, "and with that wild love which, makes me forget everything else. Well, I will say to her, there remain for us still some happy days on this earth. Come, my beloved, and we will live the life of the blessed, if we love each other. Afterwards there will be death--better than a life like this. Let us love at least."
"Not badly reasoned for a man in a fever," said the doctor.
"But her children!" cried Charny suddenly, with fury; "she will not leave her children. Oh! we will carry them away also. Surely I can carry her, she is so light, and her children too." Then he gave a terrible cry: "But they are the children of a king!"
The doctor left his patient and approached the queen.
"You are right, doctor," said she; "this young man would incur a terrible danger if he were overheard."
"Listen again," said the doctor.
"Oh, no more."
But just then Charny said, in a gentler voice:
"Marie, I feel that you love me, but I will say nothing about it. Marie, I felt the touch of your foot in the coach; your hand touched mine, but I will never tell; I will keep this secret with my life. My blood may all flow away, Marie, but my secret shall not escape with it. My enemy steeped his sword in my blood, but if he has guessed my secret, yours is safe. Fear nothing, Marie, I do not even ask you if you love me; you blushed, that is enough."
"Oh!" thought the doctor; "this sounds less like delirium than like memory."
"I have heard enough," cried the queen, rising and trembling violently; and she tried to go.
The doctor stopped her. "Madame," said he, "what do you wish?"
"Nothing, doctor, nothing."
"But if the king ask to see my patient?"
"Oh! that would be dreadful!"
"What shall I say?"
"Doctor, I cannot think; this dreadful spectacle has confused me."
"I think you have caught his fever," said the doctor, feeling her pulse.
She drew away her hand, and escaped.
CHAPTER LI.
ANDReE.
The doctor remained thoughtful, then said to himself,--"There are other difficulties here besides those I can contend with by science." He bathed again the temples of his patient, who for the time began to grow calmer.
All at once the doctor heard the rustling of a dress outside. "Can it be the queen returned?" thought he; and opening the door softly, he saw before him the motionless figure of a woman, looking like a statue of despair. It was almost dark; he advanced suddenly along the corridor to the place where the figure was standing. On seeing him, she uttered a cry.
"Who is there?" asked Doctor Louis.