After a moment of profound meditation, the Chourineur, less from any need he felt for repose than in obedience to the doctor's commands, took a chair with the utmost precaution, turned it upside down with an air of intense self-satisfaction at having at length devised a plan to act in strict conformity with the orders received, and yet avoid all risk of soiling the silken cushion; having laid the back on the ground, he proceeded, after all manner of delicate arrangements, to take his seat on the outer rails; but, unhappily, the Chourineur was entirely ignorant of the laws of the lever and the equilibrium of bodies, the chair overbalanced, and the luckless individual seated thereon, in endeavouring to save himself from falling, by an involuntary movement caught hold of a small stand, on which was a tray containing some tea-things. At the formidable noise caused by so many falling articles clattering upon the head of the unfortunate cause of all this discord and havoc, the doctor sprung from his seat, while Rodolph, awaking with a start, raised himself on his elbow, looked about him with an anxious and perturbed glance, then, passing his hand over his brows, as though trying to arrange his ideas, he inquired: "Where is Murphy?" "Your royal highness need be under no apprehensions on his account," answered the negro, respectfully; "there is every hope of his recovery." "Recovery! He is, then, wounded?" "Unhappily, my lord, he is." "Where is he? Let me see him!" And Rodolph endeavoured to rise, but fell back again, overcome by weakness and the intense pain he felt from his many and severe contusions. "Since I cannot walk," cried he, at length, "let me be instantly carried to Murphy,--this moment!" "My lord, he sleeps at present; it would be highly dangerous, at this particular juncture, to expose him to the slightest agitation." "You are deceiving me, and he is dead! He has been murdered! And I--I am the wretched cause of it!" cried Rodolph, in a tone of agony, raising his clasped hands towards heaven. "My lord knows that his servant is incapable of a falsehood. I assert by my honour, that, although severely wounded, Murphy lives, and that his chance of recovery is all but certain." "You say that but to prepare me for more disastrous tidings; he lies, doubtless, wounded past all hope; and he, my faithful friend, will die!" "My lord--" "Yes, you are seeking to deceive me till all is over. But I will see him,--I will judge for myself; the sight of a friend cannot be hurtful. Let me be instantly removed to his chamber." "Once more, my lord, I pledge my solemn assurance, that, barring chances not likely to occur, Murphy will soon be convalescent." "My dear David, may I indeed believe you?" "You may, indeed, my lord."