Some way must now be discovered to procure the surgical instruments and the remedies which the condition of the wounded man demanded.
But where and how could he procure them?
The police kept a close watch over the physicians and druggists in Montaignac, in the hope of discovering the wounded conspirators through them.
But the cure, who had been for ten years physician and surgeon for the poor of his parish, had an almost complete set of surgical instruments and a well-filled medicine-chest.
“This evening,” said he, “I will obtain what is needful.”
When night came, he put on a long blue blouse, shaded his face by an immense slouch hat, and directed his steps toward Sairmeuse.
Not a light was visible through the windows of the presbytery; Bibiane, the old housekeeper, must have gone out to gossip with some of the neighbors.
The priest effected an entrance into the house, which had once been his, by forcing the lock of the door opening on the garden; he found the requisite articles, and retired without having been discovered.
That night the abbe hazarded a cruel but indispensable operation. His heart trembled, but not the hand that held the knife, although he had never before attempted so difficult a task.
“It is not upon my weak powers that I rely: I have placed my trust in One who is on High.”