Madame Degardy instantly pushed back her head.
"Don't get his breath--that's death, idiot!" she said, and began to pour
the liquid into Valmond's mouth very slowly. It was a tedious process at
first, but at length he began to swallow naturally, and finished the cup.
There was no change for an hour, and then he became less restless. After
another cupful, his eyes half opened. Within an hour a perspiration came,
and he was very quiet, and sleeping easily. Parpon crouched near the
door, watching it all with deep, piercing eyes. Madame Degardy never
moved from her place, but stood shaking her head and muttering. At last
Lagroin came, and whisperingly asked after his chief; then, seeing him in
a healthy and peaceful sleep, he stooped and kissed the hand lying upon
the blanket.
"Beloved sire! Thank the good God!" he said. Soon after he had gone,
there was a noise of tramping about the tent, and then a suppressed
cheer, which was fiercely stopped by Parpon, and the soldiers of the
Household Troops scattered to their tents.
"What's that?" asked Valmond, opening his eyes bewilderedly.
"Your soldiers, sire," answered the dwarf.
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