om the bed, dragging the
sheet with him, and trailing it, like a shroud, behind his livid and
fleshless body. The room was cold; the face of the Jesuit was bathed in
sweat; his naked and bony feet left their moist print upon the stones.

"What are you doing? It is death!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, rushing
towards Rodin, to force him to lie down again.

But the latter, extending one of his skeleton arms, as hard as iron,
pushed aside Father d'Aigrigny with inconceivable vigor, considering the
state of exhaustion in which he had so long been.

"He has the strength of a man in a fit of epilepsy," said Father
d'Aigrigny, recovering his balance.

With a steady step Rodin advanced to the desk on which Dr. Baleinier
daily wrote his prescriptions. Seating himself before it, the Jesuit took
pen and paper, and began to write in a firm hand. His calm, slow, and
sure movements had in them something of the deliberateness remarked in
somnambulists. Mute and motionless, hardly knowing whether they dreamed
or not, the cardinal and Father d'Aigrigny remained staring at the
incredible coolness of Rodin, who, half-naked, continued to write with
perfect tranquillity.

"But, father," said the Abbe d'Aigrigny, advancing towards him, "this is
madness!"

Rodin shrugged his shoulders, stopped him with a gesture and made him a
sign to read what he had just written.

The reverend father expected to see the ravings of a diseased brain; but
he took the note, whilst Rodin commenced another.

"My lord," exclaimed Father d'Aigrigny, "read this!"

The cardinal read the paper, and returning it to the reverend father with
equal amazement, added: "It is full of reason, ability, and resources. We
shall thus be able to neutralize the dangerous combination of Abbe
Gabriel and Mdlle. de Cardoville, who appear to be the most formidable
leaders of the coalition."

"It is really miraculous," said Father d'Aigrigny.

"Oh, my dear father!" whispered the cardinal, shaking his head; "what a
pity that we are the only witnesses of this scene! What an excellent
MIRACLE we could have made of it! In one sense, it is another Raising of
Lazarus!"

"What an idea, my lord!" answered Father d'Aigrigny, in a low voice. "It
is perfect--and we must not give it up--"

This innocent little plot was interrupted by Rodin, who, turning his
head, made a sign to Father d'Aigrigny to approach, and delivered to him
another sheet, with this note attached: "To be executed wi