They went down into the room where he had seen Josette and Pierre, with his hand held tightly in the little missioner's. He had never seen a face more terribly white than Josette's, and Pierre was like a haggard old man. He looked up at Father Albanel. The missioner's face was streaming with tears, and through the tears he was smiling. Then he began to speak. He told how Peter had stolen into the house and had gone to Mona.
"God sent him," he said. "He has done more than all the physicians and medicines in the world could have done, for he has brought Mona back from the very gates of death. She will live!"
The last three words drowned all others for Peter. His breath came in little jerks. Then he found himself crying—in Josette's arms.
Josette pressed Peter to her and covered his pale, cold face with kisses. Her great eyes seemed to drown him with their nearness, and then she too was sobbing, with his face hugged close to hers. It all passed in a very few moments, it seemed to Peter, and Josette went with Father Albanel to Mona's room. She came back in a little while. Her eyes were shining and the whiteness was gone from her face.
"It is true—God has been good to us again," she said, looking into Pierre's wildly questioning eyes.
"The fever is broken. Her skin is soft and moist. And—she—wants Peter!"
Josette and Pierre understood the look that came into Father Albanel's face. They waited for him to speak.
"Please let me go," begged Peter. "I won't make a noise. I'll sit quiet."
Father Albanel swallowed a lump in his throat.