All glory be to Aesculapius, Hygeia, and Hippocrates!" At this moment a hand noiselessly put aside the hangings over the door, and the venerable head of the prince appeared--looking ten years older for the agony and dread of the terrible night just passed.
"How is he, Maitre Laurent ?" he breathed, in broken, scarcely audible tones.
The surgeon put his finger to his lips, and with the other hand pointed to the young duke's face-still raised a little on the pillows, and no longer wearing its death-like look; then, with the light step habitual with those who are much about the sick, he went over to the prince, still standing on the threshold, and drawing him gently outside and away from the door, said in a low voice, "Your highness can see that the patient's condition, so far from growing worse, has decidedly improved.
Certainly he is not out of danger yet--his state is very critical--but unless some new and totally unforeseen complication should arise, which I shall use every effort to prevent, I think that we can pull him through, and that he will be able to enjoy life again as if he had never been hurt." The prince's care-worn face brightened and his fine eyes flashed at these hopeful words; he stepped forward to enter the sick-room, but Maitre Laurent respectfully opposed his doing so.
"Permit me, my lord, to prevent your approaching your son's bedside just now--doctors are often very disagreeable, you know, and have to impose trying conditions upon those to whom their patients are dear.

I beseech you not to go near the Duke of Vallombreuse at present.

Your beloved presence might, in the excessively weak and exhausted condition of my patient, cause dangerous agitation.

Any strong emotion would be instantly fatal to him, his hold upon life is still so slight.

Perfect tranquility is his only safety.