But the disease was making giant strides. In the night of the 12th to 13th a first attack of cardiac asthma supervened, an extremely painful one; we had the impression that the end was near. Elie suffered agonies but remained morally calm and ready for death, as he had ever been since his first heart attack, two years previously. He repeated that he had accomplished his task and run through his vital cycle; that what he could yet do would be but a supplement, and that it was better to die than to outlive his own decadence. He only wished not to suffer too long, but that humble desire was not to be realised. We spent two more nights at Sèvres, terrible nights not to be forgotten if one had centuries to live, and we then decided to go to a nursing home in Paris, as it was imprudent to remain any longer isolated as we were. Having heard of Metchnikoff's illness, Dr. Roux offered to receive us at the Pasteur Institute in a small lodging which was now free, the house-physician who had occupied it having been killed. Dr. Widal, in whom Metchnikoff had absolute confidence, came to Sèvres on the 14th and found myocarditis. Thanks to an absolutely incomprehensible phenomenon, Elie had suddenly ceased to realise the rapidity of his pulse; he had 160 beats in a minute and only perceived less than half; it was therefore easy to keep the truth from him. After a last night of suffering we left our Sèvres nest, which we had so loved. Leaning on my arm, he slowly walked through the little garden and gazed for the last time at the home that we were leaving for the unknown.... He looked worn and bent under the weight of suffering, but he was quite calm, and his eyes, though firm and gentle, already seemed to me to be looking very far away. The automobile bore us slowly from Sèvres to the Pasteur Institute, and we found ourselves in the small flat which had been inhabited by the young doctor who had been killed in the war. He had only spent a short stage of his life there. How long should we remain? And what road should we take when we left it? We tried to smile, though our hearts were terribly heavy, in order to cheer each other. But, in the course of the day, we were surrounded by friends full of solicitude, the tension relaxed, and we felt a growing sense of comfort and security. No more nights of mortal dread and loneliness, with no help at hand! That thought alone inspired courage and hope. In case of need, I had only to send down to the next floor to ask for a doctor. For a few days, Elie felt much better, perhaps on account of the mental relief, but his heart was weak and his pulse extremely rapid. Drs. Widal, Martin, Veillon, Salimbeni, and Darré came to see him every day; during the whole of his long illness, they never ceased to show him the most attentive and devoted care. They attempted by every means to save him from pain, for, alas, they had no hope of curing him. Nothing was neglected, and many still greater sufferings were spared him.[33]