Whilst the postilions drove rapidly towards the house, the cold face
of Thaddeus rested on the bosom of his benefactor, who continued to
chafe his temples with eau de Cologne until the chariot stopped
before the gates. The men carried the count into the house, and
leaving him with their master and a medical man, who resided near,
other restoratives were applied which in a short time restored him to
consciousness. When he was recalled to recollection, and able to
distinguish objects, he saw that he was supported by two gentlemen,
and in a spacious chamber.
Gratitude was an active virtue in the soul of Thaddeus. At the moment
of his awakening from that sleep which, when it fell upon him, he
believed would last until time should be lost in eternity, he pressed
the hands of those who held his own, not doubting but that they were
the good Samaritans who had preserved him from perishing.
The younger of the gentlemen, perceiving, by the animated lustre
which spread over his patient's eyes, that he was going to speak, put
his hand on his lips, and said, "Pardon me, sir! you must be mute!
Your life at present hangs on a thread; the slightest exertion might
snap it. As all you want is rest and resuscitation to supply some
great loss which the vital powers have sustained, I must require that
you neither speak nor be spoken to until I give permission.
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