The Counts Millions | Page 9

in this aristocratic neighborhood several times before. When an accident happened, he was summoned because he chanced to be close at hand, but just as he was flattering himself that he had gained a desirable patient, he found himself in presence of some celebrated physician, who had come from a distance in his carriage. Accustomed to such disappointments, he knew how to conceal his dissatisfaction.
"Were I in your place, mademoiselle, I should do precisely what you suggest," he answered, "and should you think it unnecessary for me to call, I----"
"Oh! monsieur, on the contrary, I shall certainly expect you."
"In that case, very well." Thereupon he bowed and left the room.
But Mademoiselle Marguerite followed him on to the landing. "You know, monsieur," she said, speaking rapidly in an undertone, "that I am not M. de Chalusse's daughter. You may, therefore, tell me the truth. Is his condition hopeless?"
"Alarming--yes; hopeless--no."
"But, monsieur, this terrible unconsciousness----"
"It usually follows such an attack as he has been the victim of. Still we may hope that the paralysis will gradually disappear, and the power of motion return after a time."
Mademoiselle Marguerite was listening, pale, agitated, and embarrassed. It was evident that she had a question on her lips which she scarcely dared to ask. At last, however, summoning all her courage, she exclaimed: "And if M. de Chalusse should not recover, will he die without regaining consciousness--without being able to speak?"
"I am unable to say, mademoiselle--the count's malady is one of those which set at naught all the hypotheses of science."
She thanked him sadly, sent a servant to summon Madame Leon, and returned to the count's room.
As for the doctor, he said to himself as he went downstairs, "What a strange girl! Is she afraid that the count will regain consciousness? or, on the contrary, does she wish him to speak? Is there any question of a will under all this? What else can it be? What is at stake?" His preoccupation was so intense that he almost forgot where he was going, and he paused on every step. It was not until the fresh air of the courtyard blew upon his face, reminding him of the realities of life, that the charlatanesque element in his nature regained the ascendency. "My friend," he said, addressing M. Casimir, who was lighting him out, "you must at once have some straw spread over the street so as to deaden the sound of the vehicles. And to-morrow, you must inform the commissary of police."
Ten minutes later a thick bed of straw had been strewed across the thoroughfare, and the drivers of passing vehicles involuntarily slackened their speed, for every one in Paris knows what this signifies. M. Casimir personally superintended the work which was intrusted to the grooms, and he was about to return indoors again, when a young man, who had been walking up and down in front of the mansion for more than an hour, hastily approached him. He was a beardless fellow with a strangely wrinkled face, as leaden-tinted as that of a confirmed absinthe-drinker. His general expression was shrewd, and at the same time impudent, and surprising audacity gleamed in his eyes. "What do you want?" asked M. Casimir.
The young fellow bowed humbly, and replied, "Ah, don't you recognize me, monsieur? I'm Toto--excuse me--Victor Chupin, employed by M. Isidore Fortunat."
"Oh, yes. I recollect."
"I came, in obedience to my employer's orders, to inquire if you had obtained the information you promised him; but seeing that something had happened at your house, I didn't dare go in, but decided to watch for you----"
"And you did quite right, my lad. I have no information to give you--ah, yes! stop! The Marquis de Valorsay was closeted with the count for two hours yesterday. But what good will that do? The count has been taken suddenly ill, and he will scarcely live through the night."
Victor Chupin was thunderstruck. "Impossible!" he cried. "Is it for him that the straw has been strewed in the street?"
"It's for him."
"What a lucky fellow! No one would go to such expense for me! But I have an idea that my guv'nor will hardly laugh when I tell him this. Still, thank you all the same, m'sieur, and au revoir." He was darting off when a sudden thought detained him. "Excuse me," said he, with conjuror like volubility; "I was so horrified that I forgot business. Tell me, m'sieur, if the count dies, you'll take charge of the funeral arrangements, won't you? Very well; a word of advice then. Don't go to the regular undertakers, but come to me: here's my address"--proffering a card--"I will treat with the undertakers for you, and take charge of everything. It will be much better and far cheaper for you, on account of certain arrangements I've made with these parties. Everything,