These two men separated with a mutual gravity. As the king's attorney left the room for the purpose of having the prisoner brought in, the physician approached d'Aubian and the curate, who since Monsieur Gorsay had recovered his consciousness kept themselves withdrawn from view, in a corner of the room; the priest, that the patient might not perceive that his situation was of sufficient danger to render spiritual succor necessary; and Arthur, from one of those compunctious visitings of conscience which the conviction of having irrevocably injured a man whom one respects never fails to awaken in honorable minds. 'Curate,' said the doctor, with an air of dissatisfaction, 'human justice is scarcely humane. You might preach a sermon from this text. While you are considerately concealing your cassock in order not to alarm this poor man, the king's attorney here is giving us a fine specimen of the morals of his trade. Provided he can complete his _procès verbal_, every thing else is of little moment. He has now gone to bring the assassin into this chamber. I have told him that I would not answer for the consequences, and he still persists. But let him do as he pleases; I wash my hands of it.' 'Madame Gorsay should be removed from the room,' said Arthur, whom the situation of Lucia at this moment inspired with pity as much as love. 'That is what I was on the point of suggesting,' replied the physician. 'You alone, curate, are capable of doing it: lead her out, and do not permit her to return. Should we need your services I will send for you, but do not let her come here again. Her nervous organization is extremely irritable, and I dread a rush of blood to the brain. There are those who have become confirmed lunatics with slighter indications of insanity than she sometimes exhibits when under great nervous excitement. Keep her in her chamber; I will go up to her as soon as I can get away from here. It may perhaps be necessary to take some blood from her.' Making use of the double authority of his age and profession, the curate succeeded in leading Lucia from the apartment. As they left the room the king's attorney returned, followed by Bonnemain, in custody of two peasants, his volunteer guard. At sight of the assassin of her husband, Madame Gorsay turned away her head, and leaned heavily upon the arm of the priest, who quickened his pace, saying to himself in a low tone, 'In this great calamity I thank thee, O my GOD! that this is not a child of our parish!' The prisoner and escort stopped at the threshold of the chamber, while the magistrate advanced singly toward the wounded man, to prepare him for the interview. 'This is the critical moment,' said the physician to d'Aubian; 'lend me your aid, for these domestics are so awkward they can afford no assistance. Pass your arm under the pillow, and support Monsieur Gorsay: in his present posture he cannot see the man they are bringing in, and we must try and abridge this ceremony.'