"And why?" insisted M. d'Escorval. "If I am recaptured, what will
happen? They will nurse me, and then, as soon as I can stand upon my
feet, they will shoot me down. Would it be a crime to save me from
such suffering? You are my best friend; swear to render me this supreme
service. Would you have me curse you for saving my life?"
The abbe made no response; but his eye, voluntarily or involuntarily,
turned with a peculiar expression to the box of medicine standing upon
the table near by.
Did he wish to be understood as saying:
"I will do nothing; but you will find a poison there."
M. d'Escorval understood it in this way, for it was with an accent of
gratitude that he murmured:
"Thanks!"
Now that he felt that he was master of his life he breathed more freely.
From that moment his condition, so long desperate, began to improve.
"I can defy all my enemies from this hour," he said, with a gayety which
certainly was not feigned.
Day after day passed and the abbe's sinister apprehensions were not
realized; he, too, began to regain confidence.
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