The youth moved again, and looking round him with a dazed expression,
said, "My uncle--?"

"You had better go," said Derues in a whisper to the Martins. "I am
afraid he is delirious again; I will prepare a draught, which will give
him a little rest and sleep."

"Adieu, then, adieu," answered Madame Martin; "and may Heaven bless you
for the care you bestow on this poor young man!"

On Friday evening violent vomiting appeared to have benefited the
sufferer. He had rejected most of the poison, and had a fairly quiet
night. But on the Saturday morning Derues sent the cooper's little girl
to buy more medicine, which he prepared, himself, like the first. The
day was horrible, and about six in the evening, seeing his victim was at
the last gasp, he opened a little window overlooking the shop and
summoned the cooper, requesting him to go at once for a priest. When the
latter arrived he found Derues in tears, kneeling at the dying boy's
bedside. And now, by the light of two tapers placed on a table, flanking
the holy water-stoup, there began what on one side was an abominable and
sacrilegious comedy, a disgraceful parody of that which Christians
consider most sacred and most dear; on the other, a pious and consoling
ceremony. The cooper and his wife, their eyes bathed in tears, knelt in
the middle of the room, murmuring such prayers as they could remember.

Derues gave up his place to the priest, but as Edouard did not answer the
latter's questions, he approached the bed, and bending over the sufferer,
exhorted him to confession.

"Dear boy," he said, "take courage; your sufferings here will be counted