He had already begun to teach Philip--his master's son, a bright boy of five--all these accomplishments. He had some knowledge of medicine also; and, as he had spent much of his life in the fields, he had become acquainted with the names and properties of many plants and herbs; and this knowledge had often been called into requisition for the benefit of many of the people as well as the animals of the neighborhood. Never had his skill been needed more than now, for poor Tiepoletta had not recovered consciousness, and her rigidity and the ghastly pallor which had overspread her features seemed to indicate that she had already been struck with death. Anxious to resuscitate her, Coursegol set energetically to work, but not without emotion. It was the first time he had ever exercised his skill on a woman, and this pure and lovely face had made a deep impression on his heart. He would willingly have given a generous share of his own blood to hear Tiepoletta speak, to see her smile upon him. "Look, sir," said he, "how beautiful she is! She certainly cannot be twenty years old. Her skin is as fine as satin, and what hair! Could anything be more lovely?" While he spoke, Coursegol was endeavoring to unclose the teeth of the gypsy in order to introduce a few drops of warm, sweetened wine through her pallid lips. Then he rubbed the feet of the unfortunate woman vigorously with hot flannels. "They are sore and swollen!" he added. "She must have come a long distance!" "Is she recovering?" asked the Marquis, who stood by, watching Coursegol's efforts. "I do not know; but see, sir, it seemed to me that she moved." The Marquis came nearer. As he did so Tiepoletta opened her eyes. She looked anxiously about her, then faintly murmured a few words in a strange tongue. "She speaks," said the Marquis, "but what does she say? She seems frightened and distressed." "She wishes to see her child," exclaimed Coursegol, departing on the run. During his absence Tiepoletta regained her senses sufficiently to recollect what had happened; but she was so weak that she could scarcely speak. Still, when Coursegol appeared with the child in his arms, she smiled and extended her hands. "Kiss her, but do not take her," said the Marquis. "You are not strong enough for that yet." Tiepoletta understood and obeyed. Then she said gently in bad French: "My Dolores." "Dolores! That is a pretty name!" remarked Coursegol, pleased to hear the poor woman speak. "You will keep her, will you not?" said Tiepoletta, entreatingly. "You will not give her to those who will maltreat her? Make an honest girl of her. Teach her not to scorn the poor gypsies. Tell her that her father and her mother belonged to that despised race." She uttered these phrases slowly, speaking, not without difficulty, French words that would clearly express her meaning. "Have no fears," replied Coursegol. "The child shall want for nothing. Rest in peace." "Yes," she repeated, "rest in death."