Rémy approached him carefully, took off his cloak, his doublet and shirt. The sword had penetrated between the sixth and seventh ribs. “Do you suffer much?” “In my back, not in my chest.” “Ah, let me see; where?” “Below the shoulder bone.” “The steel must have come against a bone.” And he began to examine. “No, I am wrong,” said he, “the sword came against nothing, but passed right through.” Monsoreau fainted after this examination. “Ah! that is all right,” said Rémy, “syncope, low pulse, cold in the hands and legs: Diable! the widowhood of Madame de Monsoreau will not last long, I fear.” At this moment a slight bloody foam rose to the lips of the wounded man. Rémy drew from his pocket his lancet case; then tearing off a strip from the patient’s shirt, bound it round his arm. “We shall see,” said he, “if the blood flows. Ah, it does! and I believe that Madame de Monsoreau will not be a widow. Pardon, my dear M. de Bussy, but I am a doctor.” Presently the patient breathed, and opened his eyes. “Oh!” stammered he, “I thought all was over.” “Not yet, my dear monsieur; it is even possible----” “That I live!” “Oh, mon Dieu! yes; but let me close the wound. Stop; do not move; nature at this moment is aiding my work. I make the blood flow, and she stops it. Ah! nature is a great doctor, my dear sir. Let me wipe your lips. See the bleeding has stopped already. Good; all goes well, or rather badly.” “Badly!” “No, not for you; but I know what I mean.” “You think I shall get well?” “Alas! yes.” “You are a singular doctor, M. Rémy.” “Never mind, as long as I cure you,” said he, rising. “Do not abandon me,” said the count. “Ah! you talk too much. Diable! I ought to tell him to cry out.” “What do you mean?” “Never mind; your wound is dressed. Now I will go to the castle and fetch assistance.” “And what must I do meanwhile?” “Keep quite still; do not stir; breathe lightly, and try not to cough. Which is the nearest house?” “The château de Méridor.” “Which is the way to it?” said Rémy, affecting ignorance. “Get over the wall, and you will find yourself in the park.” “Very well; I go.” “Thanks, generous man.” “Generous, indeed, if you only knew all.” He soon arrived at the château, where all the inhabitants were busy looking for the body of the count; for St. Luc had given them a wrong direction. Rémy came among them like a thunderbolt, and was so eager to bring them to the rescue, that Diana looked at him with surprise, “I thought he was Bussy’s friend,” murmured she, as Rémy disappeared, carrying with him a wheelbarrow, lint and water. CHAPTER LXIX. HOW M. LE DUC D’ANJOU WENT TO MÉRIDOR TO CONGRATULATE MADAME DE MONSOREAU ON THE DEATH OF HER HUSBAND, AND FOUND HIM THERE BEFORE HIM. As soon as the duke left his mother, he hastened to Bussy to know the meaning of all his signs. Bussy, who was reading St. Luc’s letter for the fifth time, received the prince with a gracious smile.