"Has he told you how it happened?" asked Bathilde; "how he was attacked by Giovanni? For it was that brigand who wounded him, was it not?" Jarnonville seemed to reflect before he replied: "Madame, your husband is very uncommunicative; and since he has begun to improve, he talks no more than before. Your daughter alone has the power to make him talk. When I attempted to question him concerning this adventure, he answered only by monosyllables, which led me to think that my questions were displeasing to him; so that I thought that I should not persist." "Oh! you were quite right, chevalier; let monsieur le comte conceal from us the cause of his accident, if that is his wish; the essential point is that it should have no fatal consequences." "Still," said Ambroisine, "I do not understand why he should make a mystery of having been attacked by a robber! But if he had fought a duel----" "That is impossible," rejoined Bathilde; "remember that in his delirium he talked constantly of this Giovanni." Thus the two friends were still uncertain with respect to the cause of the wound which had nearly caused the count's death; and Jarnonville, who knew what it was and might have told them, pretended to share their ignorance. One morning, on awaking, Léodgard, who was accustomed to see Blanche at the foot of his bed, or somewhere in the room, looked in vain for the child, who was nowhere in sight. After waiting for some time for his daughter to be brought to him, he rang for a servant. "Why do they not send the child to me this morning, as usual?" he asked the valet who answered the bell. "I believe that I heard someone say, monsieur le comte, that mademoiselle was not very well in the night; that is probably the reason why she does not come to you." "Ah! that makes a difference! And the physician--have they sent for the physician?" "Yes, monsieur le comte." "Has the Sire de Jarnonville not yet come?" "No, monseigneur." "Very well; as soon as the physician has seen the child, send him to me." The valet left the room; but in a few moments the count rang again, and asked that the child's nurse be sent to him. Marie appeared, and the count was glad to see the nurse who was taking his daughter to walk on Place Royale when he first met her there. He motioned to her to come forward. "Blanche is ill--what is the matter?" "Oh! it will be nothing, monsieur le comte; mademoiselle coughed a little in the night, and this morning she has a little fever; but it will not amount to anything; children fall sick very quickly, but they get well as quickly." "Is she in pain?" "No, monseigneur; she has already asked to get up, and to come to see you." "What! does she really think of me?" "Oh! since she has been coming here, you are her first thought, after she has kissed her mother." "Dear child!" "But as mademoiselle is feverish, it would be imprudent to allow her to rise." "Yes, it must not be. And her--her mother is with her, I presume?"