Braced against the rocks, he succeeded in halting the trembling beast, and bent in anguish over the fainting girl. But just as he freed Esperance's feet, the horse, still trampling and plunging, kicked him full in the head. He went down like a stone. Maurice and Jean had now come up. One calmed the horse, the other went to the aid of the wounded man. Albert, his face streaming with blood, was murmuring feebly, "No, she is not dead; no, she is not dead...." He fell back unconscious. Jean was kneeling beside Esperance. He raised his eyes to Maurice, moist with tears, but bright with hope. "She is alive," he said, "she has just moaned feebly. It is only a little way to the farm. Hurry Maurice, go for help. God grant the Count's wound may not be fatal...." The peasants who were haymaking nearby had left their work and come upon the scene. One man offered his cart and Albert was lifted, unconscious and bloodstained, and laid on the hay. Esperance had come to her senses. She could see, but could not understand. A peasant woman, kneeling beside her, washed her face in water from a pool in the rocks. Suddenly she recollected her comrade. "Jean," she cried with fright, "Jean, Count Styvens?" Jean sorrowfully showed her the wagon where he lay. Esperance, leaning on the young actor, stood up to be able to see, and a great sob shook her from head to feet. "My God! my God!" she moaned, "is he killed?" "No, I don't think so, not yet at least...." "And his mother, his poor mother.... But what happened? I don't remember.... It is terrible...." Jean described what had happened, and how the Count had snatched her from certain death. Esperance began to cry bitterly. Meantime Maurice was returning with the victoria in which were M. and Madame Darbois. The wagon was sent on its way very slowly. François stepped down quickly and took his daughter in his arms, intending to carry her to the carriage. "My father, I am able to walk...." she stifled with sobs. "But he...." The philosopher put her in the victoria beside her mother, and begged Jean to stay with them. Then he rejoined the cart, and climbed up beside Maurice who was supporting the limp head on the hay. The professor had studied a little medicine. He could see that the wound was grave, but the young man was robust and he allowed himself to hope. Maurice recounted the accident with all its details. "Brave fellow," said François, taking the cold hand. And tears, he could scarcely restrain, began to fill his eyes. Soon they all arrived at the farm. Marguerite, as she had been instructed, had prepared the Darbois's room to receive the wounded man. Esperance, exhausted, was put to bed, and was soon asleep, watched over by Mlle. Frahender, who prayed silently, counting over her rosary.