Rodin shook his head; then, with a fresh effort, he raised his right hand, opened it, and pointed with his forefinger to a desk in a corner of the room, to signify that, being no longer able to speak, he wished to write.

“I understand your reverence,” said Father d’Aigrigny; “but first calm yourself. Presently, if you require it. I will give you writing materials.”

Two knocks at the outer door of the next room interrupted this scene. From motives of prudence, Father d’Aigrigny had begged Rousselet to remain in the first of the three rooms. He now went to open the door, and Rousselet handed him a voluminous packet, saying: “I beg pardon for disturbing you, father, but I was told to let you have these papers instantly.”

“Thank you, M. Rousselet,” said Father d’Aigrigny; “do you know at what hour Dr. Baleinier will return?”

“He will not be long, father, for he wishes to perform before night the painful operation, that will have a decisive effect on the condition of Father Rodin. I am preparing what is necessary for it,” added Rousselet, as he pointed to a singular and formidable apparatus, which Father d’Aigrigny examined with a kind of terror.

“I do not know if the symptom is a serious one,” said the Jesuit; “but the reverend father has suddenly lost his voice.”

“It is the third time this has happened within the last week,” said Rousselet; “the operation of Dr. Baleiner will act both on the larynx and on the lungs.”

“Is the operation a very painful one?” asked Father d’Aigrigny.

“There is, perhaps, none more cruel in surgery,” answered the young doctor; “and Dr. Baleinier has partly concealed its nature from Father Rodin.”

“Please to wait here for Dr. Baleinier, and send him to us as soon as he arrives,” resumed Father d’Aigrigny: and, returning to the sick chamber, he sat down by the bedside, and said to Rodin, as he showed him the letter: “Here are different reports with regard to different members of the Rennepont family, whom I have had looked after by others, my indisposition having kept me at home for the last few days. I do not know, father, if the state of your health will permit you to hear—”