Having satisfied himself that the wounded man, although still speechless, was capable of comprehending the scene which was about to take place, and seemed to be in a condition to support it, the attorney made a sign for Bonnemain to approach. The galley-slave cast around him a ferocious look, and seemed to be calculating the chances of escape; these appearing hopeless, he resigned himself to his situation, and slowly advancing, remained motionless a few paces from his victim, with head hanging down, face livid and contorted, and his whole frame agitated by a trembling which seemed strongly characteristic of guilt. 'This old fellow is a tough one!' thought he, as he beheld the eyes of Monsieur Gorsay, which he had believed closed for ever, now wide open and glaring upon him. The crisis anticipated by the physician now took place. At sight of the murderer the old man, in spite of all his efforts to nerve himself, experienced a feeling of terror, the violence of which was manifested by a sudden change in his countenance. Already pale, his face became still more death-like, his eyes closed, and his head sunk upon the pillow, as if the sight of the assassin had completed the work of the poniard. As the doctor hastened to prepare a cordial, Arthur, who with one arm supported the wounded man, bent forward to apply to his nostrils a vial of salts. At this moment Monsieur Gorsay reöpened his eyes, and saw immediately before him the countenance of the man for whom Lucia had betrayed him. He stared at him for some moments with an air of stupefaction, as if contemplating an apparition to which reason will not allow us to give credence; but suddenly a supernatural fire lighted up the features which death seemed already to have stiffened with his icy hand. Hatred, indignation, fury, vengeance, all the deadly passions which since the preceding evening had been busy at his heart, now seemed to flash from his eyes in one appalling glance. Unaided, and by an effort of incredible vehemence, the old man raised himself, and stretching his hand toward Arthur, whom this movement struck with a sort of superstitious awe, he made convulsive efforts to speak, which at length burst the bands by which his tongue had until now been enchained: 'The assassin! the assassin!' cried he, with a voice which seemed to issue from a sepulchre. A clap of thunder falling in the chamber could not have produced a greater impression than that caused by this terrible and vindictive exclamation. D'Aubian stood speechless and aghast, as if indeed guilty. A sullen smile of malice played on the lips of the galley-slave. The magistrate and physician exchanged a significant glance: the latter, approaching the wounded man, took his arm and felt his pulse. 'Ægri somnia!' said he, addressing the magistrate.