The wounded man was still unconscious, but after examining him the surgeon said,-- "Oh, this is nothing but a simple cut. It can be sewed, and in eight days he will be on his feet again. That was a fine sabre-cut." The wounded man wore a cloak and a tricolored belt, with pistols and a sabre. They placed him on a stretcher, and after undressing him, a bucket of water was brought, and the surgeon washed the wound. As the face began to appear, Gauvain studied it attentively. "Has he any papers about him?" he asked. The surgeon felt in his side pocket and drew out a pocket-book, which he handed to Gauvain. Meanwhile the wounded man, revived by the cold water, was regaining his consciousness. His eyelids quivered slightly. Gauvain was looking over the pocket-book, in which he discovered a sheet of paper folded four times; he opened it and read,-- "Committee of Public Safety. Citizen Cimourdain--" "Cimourdain!" he cried; whereupon the wounded man opened his eyes. Gauvain was beside himself. "It is you, Cimourdain! For the second time you have saved my life." Cimourdain looked at Gauvain, while a sudden burst of joy, impossible to describe, lit up his bleeding face. Gauvain fell on his knees before him, exclaiming: "My master!" "Thy father!" said Cimourdain. V. A DROP OF COLD WATER. It was many a year since last they met, but their hearts had never been separated, and they knew each other again as if they had parted but yesterday. A hospital had been improvised in the town hall of Dol, and Cimourdain was placed on a bed in a small room adjoining the large hall devoted to the other wounded men. The surgeon who had sewed up his wound put a stop to all exciting conversation between the two men, considering it wiser to leave Cimourdain to sleep. Besides, Gauvain was called away by the thousand duties and cares incident to victory. Cimourdain was left alone, but he could not sleep, excited as he was by the double fever of his wound and of his joy.