As soon as Claire had entered the carriage, he said to the footman:  “Rue St. Lazare, quick!”

Whenever the count said “quick,” on entering his carriage, the pedestrians had to get out of the way.  But the coachman was a skillful driver, and arrived without accident.

Aided by the concierge’s directions, the count and the young girl went towards Madame Gerdy’s apartments.  The count mounted slowly, holding tightly to the balustrade, stopping at every landing to recover his breath.  He was, then, about to see her again!  His emotion pressed his heart like a vice.

“M.  Noel Gerdy?” he asked of the servant.

The advocate had just that moment gone out.  She did not know where he had gone; but he had said he should not be out more than half an hour.

“We will wait for him, then,” said the count.

He advanced; and the servant drew back to let them pass.  Noel had strictly forbidden her to admit any visitors; but the Count de Commarin was one of those whose appearance makes servants forget all their orders.

Three persons were in the room into which the servant introduced the count and Mademoiselle d’Arlange.

They were the parish priest, the doctor, and a tall man, an officer of the Legion of Honour, whose figure and bearing indicated the old soldier.

They were conversing near the fireplace, and the arrival of strangers appeared to astonish them exceedingly.

In bowing, in response to M. de Commarin’s and Claire’s salutations, they seemed to inquire their business:  but this hesitation was brief, for the soldier almost immediately offered Mademoiselle d’Arlange a chair.

The count considered that his presence was inopportune; and he thought that he was called upon to introduce himself, and explain his visit.

“You will excuse me, gentlemen,” said he, “if I am indiscreet.  I did not think of being so when I asked to wait for Noel, whom I have the most pressing need of seeing.  I am the Count de Commarin.”

At this name, the old soldier let go the back of the chair which he was still holding and haughtily raised his head.  An angry light flashed in his eyes, and he made a threatening gesture.  His lips moved, as if he were about to speak; but he restrained himself, and retired, bowing his head, to the window.

Neither the count nor the two other men noticed his strange behaviour; but it did not escape Claire.

While Mademoiselle d’Arlange sat down rather surprised, the count, much embarrassed at his position, went up to the priest, and asked in a low voice, “What is, I pray, M. l’Abbe; Madame Gerdy’s condition?”

The doctor, who had a sharp ear, heard the question, and approached quickly.

He was very pleased to have an opportunity to speak to a person as celebrated as the Count de Commarin, and to become acquainted with him.

“I fear, sir,” he said, “that she cannot live throughout the day.”