What was I to do?

I stood considering; on the one side stood the young lady, anxiously
trying to read a little hope in my face; on the other Sperver, equally
anxious and watching my every movement. A painful constraint lay,
therefore, upon me, yet I saw that there was nothing definite that
could be attempted yet.

I dropped the arm and listened to the breathing. From time to time a
convulsive sob heaved the sick man's heart, after which followed a
succession of quick, short respirations. A kind of nightmare was
evidently weighing him down--epilepsy, perhaps, or tetanus. But what
could be the cause or origin?

I turned round full of painful thoughts.

"Is there any hope, sir?" asked the young countess.

"Yesterday's crisis is drawing to its close," I answered; "we must see if
we can prevent its recurrence."

"Is there any possibility of it, sir?"

I was about to answer in general medical terms, not daring to venture any
positive assertions, when the distant sound of the bell at the gate fell
upon our ears.

"Visitors," said Sperver.