"Eh?" cried Anatole, his breath nearly possible!"
"Since I love you, cousin! "
At that moment Anatole felt his heart beat violently. Was it from pleasure at the unexpected avowal made by Nicette, or was it the agony, the death symptom predicted by the doctor?
"Unfortunate that I am!" he cried. "She loves me—I am within reach of happiness, and am to die without attaining it!"
Then, taking the hands of Nicette feverishly within his own, he told her all about the letter, the venomous flower he had scented, the prognostication of his old friend, the will he had written, and the steps he had successfully taken to release her from the claim of Capdenac.
"And now," he said, in conclusion, "I have only to go home and die!"
"But it is impossible!" cried Nicette. "This doctor must have mistaken; who is he?"
"A man who is never in error, Nicette—Dr. Bardais."
"Bardais! Bardais!" cried Bouvard, bursting into laughter. "Listen to what my newspaper here says: 'The learned Dr. Bardais has been suddenly seized with mental alienation. The madness with which he has been stricken is of a scientific character. It is well known that he was absorbingly engaged in an inquiry into the nature of venomous substances, and latterly he had fallen into the delusion that everybody he met was under the influence of poison, and endeavoured to persuade them that such was their condition. He was last night transported to the Maison de Santé of Dr. Blank."
"Nicette!"
"Anatole!"
The two young persons fell into each other's arms.
