"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