"Jacques!" said Polidori, to the notary; "Jacques! recover yourself; here is some one." The notary did not hear him. Half lying on his desk, be writhed with convulsive spasms. Polidori went to open the door, and saw the head clerk, who, pale and alarmed, cried, "I must speak at once to M. Ferrand." "Silence! he is at this moment lying ill; he cannot understand you," said Polidori, in a whisper; and coming out from the cabinet, he closed the door after him. "Oh! sir," cried the clerk, "you are the best friend of M. Ferrand; come to his assistance; there is not a moment to be lost." "What do you mean?" "I went, according to the orders of M. Ferrand, to tell the Countess M'Gregor that he could not visit her to-day as she desired." "Well?" "This lady, who appears to be now out of danger, made me come into her room. She cried, in a threatening tone, 'Return, and tell M. Ferrand that if he is not here in an hour he shall be arrested for forgery, for the child which he pretended was dead is yet alive. I know to whom he delivered her--I know where she is.'" [Footnote: The reader will remember that the countess thought Fleur-de-Marit was still at Saint Lazare, according to La Chouette's account. ] "The woman is crazy," answered Polidori, coldly, shrugging his shoulders. "You think so, sir." "I am sure of it." "I thought so at first; but the assertions of her ladyship." "Her head, doubtless, has been weakened by illness, and visionaries always believe in their visions." "I ought to tell you also, sir, that at the moment when I left the chamber of the countess, one of her women, entered precipitately, saying, 'His highness will be here in an hour!'" "It is the prince!" thought Polidori. "He at the house of the Countess Sarah, whom he was never to see again! I do not know wherefore, but I do not like this meeting; it may make our position worse." Then, turning to the clerk, he said, "Once more I repeat that this is nothing. I will, however, inform M. Ferrand of what you have just related to me." CHAPTER XIV. RUDOLPH AND SARAH. We will conduct the reader to the countess's, whom a salutary crisis had snatched from the delirium and sufferings which, during several days, had caused the most serious fears for her life. The day began to close. Sarah, seated in a large arm-chair, and supported by her brother, Thomas Seyton, was attentively surveying herself in a mirror, which was held by one of her women kneeling before her. This scene passed in the saloon where La Chouette had made her murderous attempt. The countess was as pale as marble, which gave a bolder relief to her dark eyes and hair; an ample white muslin wrapper completely concealed her form. "Give me the coral coronet," she said to one of her women, in a weak but imperious voice. "Betty will fasten it," said Thomas Seyton; "you will fatigue yourself; you are already so imprudent."