“No, my lord; the pernicious fever, which succeeded the attack of cholera, still continues.”
“Very good. But will not the reverend father be reasonable? What was the noise that I just heard?”
“His reverence wished absolutely to get up and dress himself; but his weakness is so great, that he could not have taken two steps from the bed. He is devoured by impatience, and we fear that this agitation will cause a mortal relapse.”
“Has Dr. Baleinier been here this morning?”
“He has just left, my lord.”
“What does he think of the patient?”
“He finds him in the most alarming state, my lord. The night was so bad, that he was extremely uneasy this morning. Father Rodin is at one of those critical junctures, when a few hours may decide the life or death of the patient. Dr. Baleinier is now gone to fetch what is necessary for a very painful operation, which he is about to perform on the reverend father.”
“Has Father d’Aigrigny been told of this?”
“Father d’Aigrigny is himself very unwell, as your eminence knows; he has not been able to leave his bed for the last three days.”
“I inquired about him as I came up,” answered the prelate, “and I shall see him directly. But, to return to Father Rodin, have you sent for his confessor, since he is in a desperate state, and about to undergo a serious operation?”