“Oh!” said the doctor, “the cause lies in a form of rapid blood-poisoning; it degenerates with terrific rapidity. I hope to act on the blood; I am having it analyzed; and I am now going home to ascertain the result of the labors of my friend Professor Duval, the famous chemist, with a view to trying one of those desperate measures by which we sometimes attempt to defeat death.” “The hand of God is there!” said Adeline, in a voice husky with emotion. “Though that woman has brought sorrows on me which have led me in moments of madness to invoke the vengeance of Heaven, I hope--God knows I hope--you may succeed, doctor.” Victorin felt dizzy. He looked at his mother, his sister, and the physician by turns, quaking lest they should read his thoughts. He felt himself a murderer. Hortense, for her part, thought God was just. Celestine came back to beg her husband to accompany her. “If you insist on going, madame, and you too, monsieur, keep at least a foot between you and the bed of the sufferer, that is the chief precaution. Neither you nor your wife must dream of kissing the dying man. And, indeed, you ought to go with your wife, Monsieur Hulot, to hinder her from disobeying my injunctions.” Adeline and Hortense, when they were left alone, went to sit with Lisbeth. Hortense had such a virulent hatred of Valerie that she could not contain the expression of it. “Cousin Lisbeth,” she exclaimed, “my mother and I are avenged! that venomous snake is herself bitten--she is rotting in her bed!” “Hortense, at this moment you are not a Christian. You ought to pray to God to vouchsafe repentance to this wretched woman.” “What are you talking about?” said Betty, rising from her couch. “Are you speaking of Valerie?” “Yes,” replied Adeline; “she is past hope--dying of some horrible disease of which the mere description makes one shudder----” Lisbeth’s teeth chattered, a cold sweat broke out all over her; the violence of the shock showed how passionate her attachment to Valerie had been. “I must go there,” said she. “But the doctor forbids your going out.” “I do not care--I must go!--Poor Crevel! what a state he must be in; for he loves that woman.” “He is dying too,” replied Countess Steinbock. “Ah! all our enemies are in the devil’s clutches--” “In God’s hands, my child--” Lisbeth dressed in the famous yellow Indian shawl and her black velvet bonnet, and put on her boots; in spite of her relations’ remonstrances, she set out as if driven by some irresistible power. She arrived in the Rue Barbet a few minutes after Monsieur and Madame Hulot, and found seven physicians there, brought by Bianchon to study this unique case; he had just joined them. The physicians, assembled in the drawing-room, were discussing the disease; now one and now another went into Valerie’s room or Crevel’s to take a note, and returned with an opinion based on this rapid study.