"God be praised!" cried Fleur-de-Marie, clasping her hands. "I am permitted to love my benefactor as much as I would have loved him. He is my father. I can cherish him without remorse. Be praised, my---" She could not finish--the shock was too violent; Fleur-de-Marie fainted in the arms of her father. Murphy ran to the door, opened it, and said, "Dr David instantly for his royal highness; some one is ill!" "Curses on me? I have killed her," cried Rudolph--in tears, kneeling before his daughter. "Marie, my child, listen to me; it is your father. Pardon--Oh! pardon for not having retained this secret longer. I have killed her!" "Calm yourself, my lord," said Clémence; "there is, doubtless, no danger. See her cheeks are tinged with color; it is the shock--only the shock." "But hardly convalescent, she will die. Woe is me!" At this moment, David, the black physician, entered precipitately: holding in his hands a small box filled with vials, and a paper, which he handed to Murphy. "David, my child is dying. I have saved your life--you must save my child!" cried Rudolph. Although amazed at these words of the prince, who spoke of his child, the doctor ran to Fleur-de-Marie, whom Lady d'Harville held in her arms, took hold of the young girl's pulse, placed his hand on her forehead, and turning toward Rudolph, who, pained and alarmed, awaited his doom, he said: "There is no danger, let your highness be assured." "You speak the truth--no danger--none?" "Not any, your highness. A few drops of ether, and this attack will pass over." "Oh! thank you, David--my good David!" cried the prince, warmly. Then turning toward Clémence, Rudolph added, "She lives--our daughter will live." Murphy had just cast his eyes over the note which David had placed in his hand; he shuddered, and looked at the prince with affright. "Yes, my old friend," said Rudolph, "in a short time my daughter will say to Lady d'Harville," My mother!'" "My lord," said Murphy, trembling, "the news of yesterday was false." "What do you say?" "A violent attack, followed by a fainting fit, had caused them to think that the Countess M'Gregor was dead." "The countess--" "This morning there are hopes of saving her." "Oh!" cried the prince, while Clémence looked at him with surprise, not comprehending his altered appearance. "My lord," said David, still occupied with Fleur-de Marie, "there is no cause for the slightest uneasiness. But fresh air is necessary; the chair can be rolled on the terrace by opening the door of the garden, she will then soon recover." Murphy ran immediately to open the glass door, and aided by David, he gently rolled the chair into the garden, leaving Rudolph and Clémence alone. CHAPTER XXII DEVOTION. "Ah! madame," cried Rudolph, as soon as Murphy and David had departed, "you do not know that the Countess M'Gregor is the mother of Fleur-de-Marie!" "Great heavens!"