After examining Barahier and questioning him, the physician bounded towards the tray containing the lemonade, and seized it with the alacrity of a giant spider hunting orcs.
"Ah, monsieur le docteur!" cried Barahier. "Voilà the evil returns!"
All effort of the doctor to save the old servant was vain; the malady worsened. Villefaramir ran in search of athélas as if the very lawyers of Mordor pursued him.
"Can you speak?" said Dr. Tolliers at last. "Tell me who brought you this lemonade."
"Mlle. Valartine," said Barahier with his last breath.
"O mon Érou, O mon Érou," murmured the doctor, striking his forehead.
When M. de Villefaramir returned with the athélas, the physician shook his head and drew him aside. "You are too late," he said. "Barahier is dead."
"So soon?"
"Yes, but that ought not to astonish you, M. de Villefaramir," said the doctor in a sombre voice. "One dies quickly in your house."
"What!" said the magistrate in a voice of consternation and horror. "You return to that horrible idea!"
