The turnkey brought a board supported by crosspieces; and withdrew, taking his own candle, as soon as the church's tapers were lighted.
The sacristan placed the temporary altar beside the foot of the bed, arrayed it, and recited the Confiteor.
Then the priest mumbled the Misereatur and Indulgentiam.
I had seen extreme unction administered as I had seen many another office of the church in my dim days, with scarcely any attention. Now the words were terribly living. I knew every one before it rolled off the celebrant's lips. Yet under that vivid surface knowledge I carried on as vivid a sequence of thought.
The priest elevated the ciborium, repeating,
"Ecce Agnus Dei."
Then three times—"Domine, non sum dignus."
I heard and saw with exquisite keenness, yet I was thinking,
"If I do not get out of here he will have to say those words over me."
He put the host in the parted mouth of the dying, and spoke—