Mme. de Villefaramir hesitated to fix her eyes on Valartine or to approach the bed. That lugubrious glimmer, that silence, that terrible poesy of the night came doubtless to combine with the terrible poesy of the conscience: the poisoner was afraid of her handiwork.
Finally, she drew the curtain and regarded Valartine. The girl no longer breathed; her teeth did not let escape any atom of that air that indicates life. Mme. de Villefaramir contemplated that visage with an expression so eloquent in its immobility; then, emboldened, she laid a hand on the girl's heart, which was frozen and mute. She removed her hand with a shudder, and retired.
Early next morning, the home nurse entered Valartine's chamber. At first she believed Valartine to be asleep; then, astonied by that obstinate sleep wherein the girl remained, she advanced towards the bed, and it was only then that she observed those cold lips and that frozen bosom. Then she uttered a horrible cry: "Au secours! Help!"
M. de Villefaramir and Dr. Tolliers hastened to the site. "Call Mme. de Villefaramir!" cried the steuard du roi.
"O Valards, when will you relent!" murmured the doctor.
"What are you saying, doctor!" cried Villefaramir, raising both hands towards heaven. "Doctor, doctor!"
