ir might.

CHAPTER LVI.

HYDROPHOBIA.

When the sick people, assembled in the courtyard, saw the desperate
efforts of Morok to force the door of the room which contained Sister
Martha and the orphans, their fright redoubled. "It is all over, Sister
Martha!" cried they.

"The door will give way."

"And the closet has no other entrance."

"There are two young girls in mourning with her."

"Come! we must not leave these poor women to encounter the madman. Follow
me, friends!" cried generously one of the spectators, who was still
blessed with health, and he rushed towards the steps to return to the
ante-chamber.

"It's too late! it's only exposing yourself in vain," cried many persons,
holding him back by force.

At this moment, voices were heard, exclaiming: "Here is the Abbe
Gabriel."

"He is coming downstairs. He has heard the noise."

"He is asking what is the matter."

"What will he do?"

Gabriel, occupied with a dying person in a neighboring room, had, indeed,
just learned that Morok, having broken his bonds, had succeeded in
escaping from the chamber in which he had been temporarily confined.
Foreseeing the terrible dangers which might result from the escape of the
lion-tamer, the missionary consulted only his courage, and hastened down,
in the hope of preventing greater misfortunes. In obedience to his
orders, an attendant followed him, bearing a brazier full of hot cinders,
on which lay several irons, at a white heat, used by the doctors for
cauterizing, in desperate cases of cholera.

The angelic countenance of Gabriel was very pale; but calm intrepidity
shone upon his noble brow. Hastily crossing the passage, and making his
way through the crowd, he went straight to the ante-chamber door. As he
approached it, one of the sick people said to him, in a lamentable voice;
"Ah, sir! it is all over. Those who can see through the window say that
Sister Martha is lost."

Gabriel made no answer, but grasped the key of the door. Before entering
the room, however, he turned to the attendant, and said to him in a firm
voice: "Are the irons of a white heat?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then wait here, and be ready. As for you, my friends," he added, turning
to some of the sick, who shuddered with terror, "as soon as I enter shut
the door after me. I will answer for the rest. And you; friend, only
bring your irons when I call."

And the young missionary turned the key in the lock. At this juncture, a
cry of a