At nine o'clock he relieved me, and I got a little sleep. At two o'clock I, in my turn, replaced him. We were utterly astonished.
At six o'clock the Jesuit left, with a very happy and satisfied look on his face, and we saw him go away with a quiet step.
Then, timid and ashamed, I went and knocked at the door of my uncle's house; and when the servant opened it I did not dare to ask her any questions, but went upstairs without saying a word.
My uncle was lying, pale and exhausted, with weary, sorrowful eyes and heavy arms, on his bed. A little religious picture was fastened to one of the bed curtains with a pin.
“Why, uncle,” I said, “in bed still? Are you not well?”
He replied in a feeble voice:
“Oh, my dear boy, I have been very ill, nearly dead.”
“How was that, uncle?”
“I don't know; it was most surprising. But what is stranger still is that the Jesuit priest who has just left—you know, that excellent man whom I have made such fun of—had a divine revelation of my state, and came to see me.”
I was seized with an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh, and with difficulty said: “Oh, really!”