rushed by a falling column. But the spirit of Mazarin was a strong one,
or rather his mind was a firm one. "Guenaud," said he, recovering from
his first shock, "you will permit me to appeal from your judgment. I
will call together the most learned men of Europe: I will consult them.
I will live, in short, by the virtue of I care not what remedy."

"My lord must not suppose," said Guenaud, "that I have the presumption
to pronounce alone upon an existence so valuable as yours. I have
already assembled all the good physicians and practitioners of France
and Europe. There were twelve of them."

"And they said----"

"They said that your eminence was suffering from a mortal disease; I
have the consultation signed in my portfolio. If your eminence will
please to see it, you will find the names of all the incurable diseases
we have met with. There is first----"

"No, no!" cried Mazarin, pushing away the paper. "No, no, Guenaud,
I yield! I yield!" And a profound silence, during which the cardinal
resumed his senses and recovered his strength, succeeded to the
agitation of this scene. "There is another thing," murmured Mazarin;
"there are empirics and charlatans. In my country, those whom physicians
abandon run the chance of a quack, who kills them ten times but saves
them a hundred times."

"Has not your eminence observed, that during the last month I have
changed my remedies ten times?"

"Yes. Well?"

"Well, I have spent fifty thousand crowns in purchasing the secrets of
all these fellows: the list is exhausted, and so is my purse. You are
not cured; and but for my art, you would be dead."

"That ends it!" murmured the cardinal; "that ends it." And he threw a
melancholy look upon the riches which surrounded him. "And must I quit
all that?" sighed he. "I am dying, Guenaud! I am dying!"

"Oh! not yet, my lord," said the physician.

Mazarin seized his hand. "In what time?" asked he, fixing his two large
eyes upon the impassible countenance of the physician.

"My lord, we never tell that."

"To ordinary men, perhaps not;--but to me--to me, whose every minute is
worth a treasure. Tell me, Guenaud, tell me!"

"No, no, my lord."

"I insist upon it, I tell you. Oh! give me a month and for every one of
those thirty days I will pay you a hundred thousand crowns."

"My lord," replied Guenaud, in a firm voice, "it is God who can give you
days of grace, and not I. God only allows you a fortnight."

The cardinal breathed