rrow, Europe will begin to ride hither on
the golden chariot. Giantess against giantess! We shall see their
force.

Inflammation extending with great rapidity in the weak breast of
the girl, besides a complication of the brain, not considerable,
but giving much cause for concern--the normal condition of the
mind shaken--that was the case. A long consultation was carried
on in an undertone; some medicines were prescribed, and some
advice given, in the domain of hygiene. Among the carriages which
left the gate of the mansion, two were empty. The two dignitaries
of science, who had remained in his house, Darvid conducted to
his study for black coffee, excellent liquors, and cigars of
uncommon quality. They had to remain some hours, then they would
be relieved by others. They opposed this wish at first, for it
was in opposition to their customs, to obligations assumed
elsewhere; but Darvid, with his eyes looking very kindly into
theirs, uttered a magic word. It was a figure unheard of--almost
fabulous. They hesitated still; resisted; then they came to an
understanding as to the how-and-when--and remained. Darvid's
forehead smoothed for the moment, all wrinkles vanished from it.
His child (in his mind he added), "my little one," during one
hour of the day or night would not be without the good giantess,
who would do battle against the wicked one.

In the city, people said that Darvid, in anxiety for his daughter
would commit some mad folly; but those who had seen him shrugged
their shoulders. Not at all! There was not a man on earth who
could preserve better, in such straits, cool blood,
self-confidence, fluent speech, affability perfect, though cold.
Only at times, from the quiver which ran over his face, from the
temporary stare of his eyes, and the slight carelessness in
dressing his hair, was it possible to divine in him a man playing
for great stakes. Really, in the battle which he had begun and
was fighting, the question was not of Cara alone--it was of her
above all, but not of her alone. At the bottom of his being he
felt himself a player, then, as he had been countless times
before in cases wholly different; a player aided by energy,
money, and universal reason, which was his own and that bought by
money. The stakes in this play were not only the life of his
child, but the one faith which he had--his faith in the
all-mightiness, and all-effectiveness of energy, sound sense, and
money.

At one time and another