“I do not know; I am but a foolish fellow, and he must tell you all he said to me; but they were things I had never heard before. He spoke to me of the good God better than a minister; and he brought sleep back to me.”
“How was that?”
“It was two months since I had slept soundly. I would just doze, and then start up, saying,
“'James, you are blind,' and then my head would go round—round, like a madman; and this was killing me. One morning he came in, this dear friend, and said to me,
“'James, do you believe in God?'
“'Why do you ask that, Mr. Desgranges?'
“'Well, this night, when you wake, and the thought of your misfortune comes upon you, say aloud a prayer—then two—then three—and you will go to sleep.'”
“Yes,” said the wife, with her calm voice, “the good God, He gives sleep.”
“This is not all, sir. In my despair I would have killed myself. I said to myself, 'You are useless to your family, you are the woman of the house, and others support you.' But he was displeased—'Is it not you who support your family? If you had not been blind, would any one have given you the five hundred francs?'
“'That is true, Mr. Desgranges.'