reated thee; in the name of Jesus Christ, the Son
of the living God, who suffered for thee; in the name of the Holy Ghost,
who was poured out upon thee."

The youth struggled in his bed, and a convulsive movement agitated his
limbs. Derues continued--

"When thy soul departs from this body may it be admitted to the holy
Mountain of Sion, to the Heavenly Jerusalem, to the numerous company of
Angels, and to the Church of the First-born, whose names are written in
Heaven----"

"Mother!... My mother!" cried Edouard. Derues resumed--

"Let God arise, and let the Powers of Darkness be dispersed! let the
Spirits of Evil, who reign over the air, be put to flight; let them not
dare to attack a soul redeemed by the precious blood of Jesus Christ."

"Amen," responded the priest and the Martins.

There was another silence, broken only by the stifled sobs of Derues.
The priest again crossed himself and took up the prayer.

"We beseech Thee, O beloved and only Son of God, by the merits of Thy
sacred Passion, Thy Cross and Thy Death, to deliver this Thy servant
from the pains of Hell, and to lead him to that happy place whither Thou
didst vouchsafe to lead the thief, who, with Thee, was bound upon the
Cross: Thou, who art God, living and reigning with the Father and the
Holy Ghost."

"Amen," repeated those present. Derues now took up the prayer, and his
voice mingled with the dying gasps of the sufferer.

"And there was a darkness over all the earth----

"To Thee, O Lord, we commend the soul of this Thy servant, that, being
dead to the world, he may, live to Thee: and the sins he hath committed
through the frailty of his mortal nature, do Thou in Thy most merciful
goodness, forgive and wash away. Amen."

After which all present sprinkled holy water on the body....

When the priest had retired, shown out by Madame Martin, Derues said to
her husband--

"This unfortunate young man has died without the consolation of
beholding his mother.... His last thought was for her.... There now
remains the last duty, a very painful one to accomplish, but my poor
nephew imposed it on me. A few hours ago, feeling that his end was near,
he asked me, as a last mark of friendship, not to entrust these final
duties to the hands of strangers."

While he applied himself to the necessary work in presence of the
cooper, who was much affected by the sight of such sincere and profound
affliction, Derues added, sighing--

"I shall always griev