But now had come at last the chance so long sighed for in
secret, and he felt that the recovery of his illustrious patient was of
paramount importance to himself. The worthy doctor's amour propre
and ambition were both actively engaged in this desperate duel he
was fighting with Death, and he set his teeth and determined that the
victory must rest with him. In order to keep the whole glory of
the triumph for himself, he had persuaded the prince--not without
difficulty--to renounce his intention of sending for the most celebrated
surgeons in Paris, assuring him that he himself was perfectly capable to
do all that could be done, and pleading that nothing was more dangerous
than a change of treatment in such a case as this. Maitre Laurent
conquered, and feeling that there was now no danger of his being
pushed into the background, threw his whole heart and strength into the
struggle; yet many times during that anxious night he feared that his
patient's life was slipping away from his detaining grasp, and almost
repented him of having assumed the entire responsibility. But with the
morning came encouragement, and as the watchful surgeon stood at
the bedside, intently gazing upon the ghastly face on the pillow, he
murmured to himself:
"No, he will not die--his countenance has lost that terrible,
hippocratic look that had settled upon it last evening when I first saw
him--his pulse is stronger, his breathing free and natural.
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