"This small matter was everything, Madame, in the state of despair to which I was reduced. You don't wish that I should thank you; but I, Madame, wish to remember it. Adieu; I shall remember." "Adieu, Monsieur d'Exmès; pray take care of yourself, and try to find comfort somewhere." She gave him her hand, which Gabriel kissed with deep respect. Then she left the gallery by one door, and he by another. When he was outside of the walls of the Louvre, he walked along the river-bank, and arrived at the Rue des Jardins in about half an hour. He had but one thought in his brain, and was suffering terribly. Aloyse was anxiously awaiting him. "Well?" said she. Gabriel struggled manfully to overcome a feeling of faintness which dimmed his sight anew. He would have liked well to weep, but he could not. He replied in a faltering voice,-- "I know nothing, Aloyse! Everything has been dumb and speechless,--these women and my heart as well. I know nothing except that my brow is as cold as ice, and yet I am burning up. _Mon Dieu_! _mon Dieu_!" "Courage, Monseigneur!" said Aloyse. "I have had courage," said Gabriel; "but God be merciful to me, I am dying!" And once more he fell backward on the floor, but this time he did not come to himself again. CHAPTER XVII THE HOROSCOPE "The sick man will live, Dame Aloyse! The danger has been very great, and his convalescence will be very slow. All this blood-letting has weakened the poor fellow terribly; but he will live, never fear! And thank God that the extreme debilitation of the body has lessened the blow that his mind has received, for we cannot cure those wounds; and this one of his might have been fatal,--indeed, it may yet be!" The physician who spoke thus was a man of great height, with a great bulging forehead and deep-set and piercing eyes. The common people called him Master Nostredame; but he signed his own name Nostradamus. He seemed to be not more than fifty years old. "But, holy Jesus, look at him, Messire!" replied Dame Aloyse. "He has been lying there since the evening of June 7; and it is now the 2d of July, and during that whole time he has not spoken one word,--has not even seemed to see me or to know me, and has been like one dead, alas! Look, if you touch his hand, he doesn't appear to notice it!" "So much the better, I tell you, Dame Aloyse! I pray that he may be as long as possible in awaking to the remembrance of his sorrows. If he can continue, as I trust he will, another month in this weak state, without knowing or thinking about anything, he will recover, beyond a doubt." "He will recover!" said Aloyse, raising her eyes to heaven as if offering thanks to God. "Yes, he will recover if there is no relapse. And you may say so to that pretty maid who comes twice a day to get news of him; for there is an affair with some great lady hidden under all this, is there not? Sometimes that sort of thing is very delightful, and sometimes fatal."