"Poor mother! She had already bought the thank-offering which we were to take to St. Peter's at Rome next spring."
Oh! so they were devout believers. An old Roman Catholic family of course! It was not surprising.
"And then ..." he continued.
He reddened.
"I was engaged to be married, when I fell ill ... and she would not let me set her free, she was waiting for me...."
That was all he said. Why did this last confidence stir me more than all the rest? Why did I get up and put an end to the conversation?
"Well, my dear chap, that's only an added reason for getting fit again. It would be stupid to make a mess of your whole future. Look here, I shall be on duty to-morrow. I'll put you on the sick report, and you can be off back to your home, with the esteem of every one of us, and ... my friendship."
I went out, and wandered about round the farm for a long time. I was moved by a profound pity. I could not shake off the thought of this poor unfortunate. To have nothing left to learn about his illness, at his age, which was my age, to go in terror of death, to feel oneself being drawn towards it!... Then I was moved to pity for myself, for us all. Were we not all under the shadow of death, faced with tragic ends? Alas! When life was sweet and smiled on us with her store of fresh beauties....