And Julian had turned
quite away, trembling. But now Valentine moved slightly, pressed his
elbows on the cushions that supported him, and half sat up, still with
closed eyes.
"Julian," Dr. Levillier said in a low, summoning voice,--"Julian, do you
see what I see? Is he indeed alive? Julian."
Then Julian, turning, saw, with the doctor, Valentine sit up erect, open
his eyes and gaze upon his two friends with a grave, staring scrutiny.
"Valentine, Valentine, how you frightened me! How you terrified me!"
Julian at last found a voice to exclaim. "Thank God, thank God! you are
alive. Oh, Valentine, you are alive; you are not dead."
Valentine's lips smiled slowly.
"Dead," he answered. "No; I am not dead."
And again he smiled quietly, as a man smiles at some secret thought
which tickles him or whips the sense of humour in him till, like an
obeying dog, it dances.
Dr. Levillier, having regained his feet, stood silently looking at
Valentine, all his professional instinct wide awake to note this
apparent resurrection from the dead.
"You here, doctor!" said Valentine. "Why, what does this all mean?"
"I want you to tell me that," Levillier said. "And you," he added, now
turning towards Julian.
But Julian was too much excited to answer.
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