Left alone, he gave a long, shuddering sigh, and for a moment closed his eyes very tight. When he opened them again he let them wander about the room, with its splendid tapestries, its admirably preserved antique furniture, its deep window embayments filled by transparent shadows, that revealed here the dull gold of a frame, there the bevel of a looking-glass, the pale gleam of ivory, the deeper darkness of bronze, and the groups of flowering plants Tatiana had caused to be brought there for the pleasure of his gaze. Close beside him on a very low table, which he could easily reach without moving more than his arm, stood a great bunch of violets in a bowl of Venetian glass; there was also there a block-note provided with paper and envelopes, a fountain-pen, a silver tray upon which rested a decanter of Muscat de Frontignan, a box of cigarettes, a match-safe, and a glass, and on the other edge two or three little medicine-bottles and a crystal spoon. He could hear the _carabin_--as the Duchess had designated him--walking softly up and down in the adjoining salon, waiting to be summoned, but he did not do this. Instead he noiselessly drew paper and pen toward him, and a little awkwardly began to write, holding the pad almost upright before his eyes, for to be quite flat on one’s back is inconvenient for such business. Sheet after sheet he covered with shaky but very legible writing, quite aware that twice the medical student, and twice the orderly, had peeped in at the door to see how he was doing. A little smile raised the corners of his lips, but he took no further notice and went on writing quietly. At last he had done, and, folding the scattered pages, he slipped them into an envelope together with a few violets from the fragrant cluster Tatiana herself had brought to him an hour or so before; gummed the flap down, wrote the address, “_Madame la Duchesse de Salvières, Personnelle_,” and slid the packet into the breast pocket of his pajama jacket. Then he called the budding doctor. “_Mon cher ami_,” he said, “before braving again the perils of the sea--which will be to-morrow if all goes well--I wish to make some temporary disposal of my property, or properties, rather, for, alas! they are numerous. I suppose that according to French law a brief document of the kind I am thinking of, witnessed by you and, for instance, your assistant, would be quite valid?” “Why, yes, monsieur, certainly. It is what they call a holograph will, but I am very sorry to see that you are feeling anxious. There is no danger, I assure you, in crossing the ocean in such a ship as Monsieur le Duc de Salvières’s yacht; and as to your health, why, there is no doubt that you will improve with every day.”