"Monsieur, this is no mere delirium, but downright madness; grief has turned her brain so that she does not recognize those who are nearest to her. If any one can restore her lost reason, you understand that it is myself; I beg you therefore to send away all the servants, except Francinette, who may remain at hand to look to her wants; for it would be as disagreeable to you as to myself, to see strangers laughing at the expense of my poor sister." Perhaps the duke would not have yielded so readily to this specious reasoning,--for, credulous as he was, he began to be suspicious of Cauvignac,--had he not received a summons to wait upon the queen, Monsieur de Mazarin having convoked an extraordinary session of the council. While the messenger was delivering his message, Cauvignac leaned over Nanon, and said in her ear:-- "In Heaven's name, sister, be calm! If we can exchange a few words in private, all will be well." Nanon fell back upon the bed, more self-controlled at all events, if no calmer; for hope, however small the dose, is a balm which allays the heart-ache. The duke, having decided to play the part of Orgon and Géronte to the end, returned to Nanon and kissed her hand, saying:-- "The crisis has passed, I trust, my dear; I leave you with the brother who is so dear to you, for the queen has sent for me. Believe me, nothing less than her Majesty's commands would induce me to leave your side at such a moment." Nanon felt that her strength was failing her. She could not answer the duke, but simply looked at Cauvignac and pressed his hand as if to say:-- "Have you not deceived me, brother? May I really hope?" Cauvignac answered her pressure, and said to Monsieur d'Épernon:-- "Yes, Monsieur le Duc, the crisis seems to have passed, and my sister will soon realize that she has by her side a faithful and devoted heart, ready to undertake anything to make her happy." Nanon could restrain herself no longer; she burst out sobbing as if her heart would break, for so many things had combined to break her spirit that she was no longer anything more than an ordinary woman,--weak, that is to say, and dependent upon tears to give vent to her emotion. The duke left the room, shaking his head, and commending Nanon to Cauvignac's care with an eloquent look. "Oh! how that man tortures me!" cried Nanon, as soon as his back was turned; "if he had remained a moment longer, I believe I should have died." Cauvignac raised his hand to bid her be silent; then he put his ear to the door to make sure that the duke had really gone. "Oh! what care I," cried Nanon, "whether he listens or does not listen? You whispered two words in my ear to give me comfort; tell me what you think, what you hope!" "Sister," replied Cauvignac, assuming a grave demeanor, which was by no means habitual with him, "I will not tell you that I am sure of success, but I will repeat what I said before, that I will do everything in the world to succeed."