The next morning Victor told me he did not feel any effect from what had occurred. He therefore went to the office as usual, and wrote a spirited article, in which he made known and energetically stigmatized the base proceedings of those who had attacked him. The article attracted particular attention, and gave us the pleasant satisfaction of realizing to what a degree Victor had won the good-will of upright men. On all sides they came that very day to express their indignation at the violence used against him.... We should neither overestimate nor decry human nature. There are certainly a multitude of base men with low natures and vile instincts. But even among those who are the farthest from the truth there are some souls that have preserved a certain uprightness and hearts of a certain elevation for whom we cannot help feeling mingled admiration and pity. That same evening Victor complained of not being well, but kept saying it was nothing serious. Without asking his consent, I sent for a physician, who examined him. Victor was forced to acknowledge he had been chilled the night before. He was very warm when he left M. Beauvais’ house, and, to counteract the effect of the keen north wind, he started off swiftly, and was in a complete perspiration when overtaken by his assailants. Stopped in the middle of the street, he was exposed to the cold night air, which was of course injurious. What was still worse, his cloak fell off, and it was several minutes before he recovered it. I was seized with terror at hearing these details. It seemed as if my poor husband had just pronounced his own death-warrant. At the same time a horrible feeling sprang up in my heart, such as I had never experienced before. I was frantic with rage and hatred against those who were the cause of this fatal chill. I begged, I implored Victor and the physician to promise to take immediate steps for their discovery, that no time might be lost in bringing them to justice in order to receive the penalty they deserved. “Agnes,” said Victor mildly—“Agnes, your affection for me misleads you. I no longer recognize my good Agnes.” But I gave no heed to what he said, and was only diverted from my hatred by the care I was obliged to bestow on him. In twenty-four hours my poor husband’s illness had increased to such a degree that I lost all hope. Poor Victor! he suffered terribly, and I added to his sufferings instead of alleviating them! I loved him too much, or rather with too human an affection. I afflicted him with my alternate outbursts of despair and anger. “Live without you!” I would exclaim—“that is impossible! Oh! the monsters who have killed you, if they could only die in your stead! But they shall be punished and held up to infamy as they deserve! If there is no one else in the world to ferret them out, I will do it myself!”