The young man recognised the urgency of the advice, and, going himself to the house of the curé, he brought him back with the sacristan.
The priest found the dying man in the same unconscious condition. "What is the matter with your unfortunate friend, monsieur?" asked the priest.
"Brain fever," replied the young man.
Then, as the curé was preparing to administer extreme unction, the young doctor knelt down, and remained in that position, with clasped hands, praying to God with such fervour that the sacristan could not refrain from remarking when they had both left, "What a very pious young man that was!" The young doctor went out after the priest, and remained away for nearly two hours.
Towards three o'clock, one of the two doctors that had been sent for arrived from Paris. It was Doctor Pelletan junior. M. Pigache, informed of his arrival, came and joined his confrère at the bedside of the sick man. But, after a rapid examination, both concluded that the patient was beyond human aid.
Nevertheless, they tried various remedies, but without success. All this time the young doctor appeared to be overcome with the most poignant grief—a grief that expressed itself in tears and sobs. These demonstrations of despair impressed M. Pigache all the more because, in course of conversation, the young doctor had said to him, "I am all the more unhappy as I am my unfortunate friend's legatee."
Thereupon M. Pelletan, addressing the weeping young man, said to him, "Have you reflected, monsieur, on the peril of your position?"
"What do you mean, monsieur?"
"Well, listen! You come, with your friend, for a couple of days to Saint-Cloud; you are a doctor; you are, anyway, his legatee...."
"Yes, monsieur, I am his residuary legatee."