"This is a very serious wound, and the loss of blood has been considerable. If monsieur le comte recovers, he will be very fortunate. However, if the sword did not reach any of the vital organs, it is possible that he may be cured. For the moment, it is impossible to say. When the patient recovers consciousness, be careful, above all things, not to let him talk; avoid everything that is likely to cause him the slightest excitement." The surgeon took his leave after giving the necessary directions, saying that he would return at daybreak. Jarnonville and Ambroisine passed the night beside the wounded man. "Mon Dieu! if she suspected that he was here!" murmured the girl, glancing at the chevalier. "She would be unable to resist the desire to come to see him; she would insist upon attending to his wants; and you heard what the surgeon said--that the slightest excitement might be fatal to him. Do you think that he would not be excited, if, on opening his eyes, he should see his wife by his side?" "You are right, chevalier; but if fate has willed that monsieur le comte is to die of this wound, if to-morrow he should have ceased to live! Do you think that Bathilde would ever forgive us for concealing from her the fact that her husband is here--dying--so near her; and for depriving her of the melancholy pleasure of closing his eyes?" "I know not what to say; follow the dictates of your heart. You love the countess too dearly not to divine which is likely to cause her the less pain,--to remain in ignorance of her husband's danger, or to share our anxiety concerning his fate." Ambroisine hesitated, but she decided at last to wait until daybreak and the surgeon's return. Toward the middle of the night, Léodgard partly opened his eyes; but his vague, uncertain glance could not endure the dim light in the room; he soon dropped his eyelids, having recognized none of his surroundings. At dawn, the surgeon returned to his patient; after examining him carefully, feeling his pulse, and listening a long while to his respiration, he made a motion with his head, more encouraging than the earlier one, and said: "I have a little hope; but I cannot say anything definite until I have removed the dressing of the wound, and I must not do that until evening. Until then, the same directions, the same precautions; give him this phial to inhale from, if he should lose consciousness; but, above all things, absolute silence." When the surgeon had gone, Ambroisine, having made up her mind what to do, went to her friend's room. It was only seven o'clock in the morning; Bathilde was still asleep, with her face turned toward her daughter's cradle, so that when she woke her first glance was for her child.