“Ah, well, Luquin,” said the young girl, anxiously,
“how has he passed the night?”
“Badly, Stephanette, very badly; the abbé says there is no hope for him.”
“Poor child!” said the young girl, “and how is M. Commander?”
“Always in the same state, seated at the youth’s bedside like a statue; he never moves or speaks or sees or hears. Father Elzear says if M. Commander could only weep, he might be saved, if not—”
“Well?”
“If not, he fears his head,” and Luquin made a gesture indicating the alarm felt for the commander’s mind.
“Ah, my God, if that misfortune should be added to all the others!”
“And how is Mlle. Reine?” asked Luquin.
“Always suffering. The sad ceremony of the baptism yesterday affected her so deeply! Monseigneur wished her to be with him sponsor to this poor young pagan whom they called Erebus, so that he can die a Christian. My God! at his age never to have been baptised! Fortunately, Father Elzear has given him the sacrament! Ah, poor young man, he will bear the Christian names that monseigneur and mademoiselle have given him only until this evening.”