— 4 — THE HOUSE OF DR. RABELA strange voice roused Charles Desgrez. He opened his eyes, looked round, quickly remembered his circumstances and his adventures, and saw that he was in a modest room, plainly furnished and lit by two candles stuck into cheap sticks placed on a table on which were some glasses, a bottle of wine and a flask of eau-de-vie. Two strangers, both mild-seeming elderly men, were looking at him with an air of concern; both wore rather shabby dressing-gowns and nightcaps. One of them had a roll of linen plaster in his hand.
Desgrez smiled, touched his head and found that it had been bandaged.
“I have to thank you, it seems, for timely assistance, gentlemen,” he said; he glanced round again and was much reassured on seeing Clement seated inside the door.
“Yes, yes, ind
