"And yet what you said then was true! It is perhaps love. Perhaps it is nothing else. You have soothed me with an illusion, and I have given myself up to it like a child. Feel of my heart now; it is refreshed. The dream has passed over it like a cool breeze." "Since you are feeling better," said the Duke, after making sure that he was really calm, "you ought to make the most of it and try to sleep. You do not sleep, and that is dreadful! In the morning, when I start for a hunt, I often see your lamp still burning." "And yet, for many nights past, I have not been at work." "Well, then, if it is sleeplessness, you shall not keep watch alone; I will answer for that. Let me see; you are going to lie down, to lie down on your bed." "It is impossible." "Yes, I see: you would suffocate. Well, you shall sit up and sleep. I will stay close by. I will talk to you about her until you no longer hear me." The Duke conducted his brother to his room, placed him in a large arm-chair, took care of him as a mother would take care of her child, and seated himself near him, holding his hand in his own. Then all Urbain's natural kindliness returned, and he said, gratefully,-- "I have been hateful this evening. Tell me again that you forgive me." "I do what is better: I love you," replied Gaëtan; "and I am not the only one, either. She is also thinking about you at this very hour." "O Heaven! you are lying. You are lulling me with a celestial song; but you are lying. She loves no one; she will never love me!" "Do you want me to go after her and tell her that you are seriously ill? I'll wager that in five minutes she would be here!" "It is possible," replied the Marquis, with languid gentleness. "She is full of charity and devotedness; but it would be worse for me to ascertain that I had her pity--and nothing more." "Bah! you know nothing about it. Pity is the beginning of love. Everything must begin with something which is not quite the middle or the end. If you would let yourself be guided by me, in a week you would see--" "Ah! now you are doing me more harm still. If it were as easy as you think to win her love, I should not long for it so ardently." "Very well. The illusion would be dispelled. You would regain your peace of mind. That would be something at least." "It would be my death, Gaëtan," resumed the Marquis, growing animated and recovering strength in his voice. "How unhappy I am that you cannot understand me! But there is an abyss between us. Take care, my poor friend, with an imprudence, or a slight levity, or a mistaken devotedness, you can kill me as quickly as if you held a pistol to my head."