"Drivel! Find me something lively: Monsieur Brantome, for instance.
Surely Monsieur de Lauson has these memoirs in his collection."
"I shall make inquiries." Brother Jacques was not at ease.
A long pause ensued.
It was the marquis who broke it. "Why do you come and stand at the
side of the bed and stare at me when you suppose I am sleeping? I have
watched you, and it annoys me."
"I shall do so no more, Monsieur."
"But why?"
"Perhaps I was contemplating what a happiness it would be to bring
about your salvation."
"Ah! I remember now. I told you that if ever I changed my mind
regarding worship I should make my first confession to you. Yes, I
remember distinctly. Well, Monsieur, you have still some time to wait.
I am not upon my death-bed."
The priest turned aside his head.
"Eh? Has that fool of a blood-letter made an ante-mortem?"
"No, Monsieur. But the strongest and youngest of us retire each night,
not knowing if we shall rise with the morrow. And you are more ill
than you think. It is what they call the palsy. It can not be cured.
But your soul may be saved. There is time.
Pages:
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406