But, when the countess uttered her last words, he rose, and, turning to
M. Galpin, said in a curt tone,--

"Now, sir, I hope you will let me have my patient again."

The magistrate was not a little incensed: there was reason enough,
surely; and, frowning fiercely, he said,--

"I appreciate, sir, the importance of your duties; but mine are, I
think, by no means less solemn nor less urgent."

"Oh!"

"Consequently you will be pleased, sir, to grant me five minutes more."

"Ten, if it must be, sir. Only I warn you that every minute henceforth
may endanger the life of my patient."

They had drawn near to each other, and were measuring each other with
defiant looks, which betrayed the bitterest animosity. They would surely
not quarrel at the bedside of a dying man? The countess seemed to fear
such a thing; for she said reproachfully,--

"Gentlemen, I pray, gentlemen"--

Perhaps her intervention would have been of no avail, if M. Seneschal
and M. Daubigeon had not stepped in, each addressing one of the two
adversaries. M. Galpin was apparently the most obstinate of the two;
for, in spite of all, he began once more to question the count, and
said,--