away his
head, a deep flush covered his face. 'Forgive me,' said the sick man; 'I
ought to have remembered that your early training was derived from those
worthy men, the Jesuit Fathers; and if I cannot participate in your
consolations, I would not insult your convictions, Then, raising himself
on one arm, he added, with a stronger effort: 'Your mission to me is a
failure, Fitzgerald. I cannot aid your cause: he whose trembling hand
cannot carry the glass of water to his lips can scarce replace a fallen
dynasty. I will not even deceive you by saying what, if health and
strength were mine, I might do--perhaps I do not know it myself. Go
back and tell your Prince that he and his must wait--wait like wise
physicians--till nature bring the crisis of the malady; that all they
could do now would but hurt the cause they mean to serve. When France
needs her princes, she will seek them even out of exile. Let them beware
how they destroy the prestige of their high estate by accepting equality
meanwhile. They are the priests of a religion, and can never descend to
the charges of the laity. As for you, yourself, it is well that I have
seen you; I have long desired to speak to you of your own fortunes. I
had written to Alfieri about you, and his answer--to _you_ an important
document--is in that box. You will find the key yonder on the ring.'

As Gerald rose to obey this direction, Mirabeau fell back exhausted on
the bed, a clammy sweat breaking out over his cheeks and forehead. The
cry which unconsciously escaped the youth, quickly summoned the 'sister'
to the bedside.

'This is death,' said she, in the calm, solemn voice of one long inured
to such scenes. She tried to make him swallow a teaspoonful of some
restorative, but the liquid dropped over his lips, and fell upon his
chin. 'Death--and what a death!' muttered the sister, half to herself.

'See--see--he is coming back to himself,' whispered Gerald; 'his eyes
are opening, and his lips move,' while a faint effort of the muscles
around the mouth seemed to essay a smile.

Again she moistened his lips with the cordial, and this time he was able
to swallow some drops of it. He made a slight attempt to speak, and as
the sister bent her ear to his lips, he whispered faintly, 'Tell him to
come back--tomorrow--to-morrow!'

She repeated the words to Gerald, who, feeling that his presence any
longer there might be hurtful, slowly and silently stepped from the
room, and descended to