o say it to you, her son, but it must be told,
nevertheless, that one day, when your father was out, she untruly
informed your uncle that his brother had consented to the performance of
the operation, and that he had gone purposely out of the house because
he had not nerve enough to stay and witness it. After that, your uncle
no longer hesitated. He had no fear of results, provided he could be
certain of his own courage. All he dreaded was the effect on him of his
love for the child when he first found himself face to face with the
dreadful necessity of touching her skin with the knife."

I tried hard to control myself, but I could not repress a shudder at
those words.

"It is useless to shock you by going into particulars," said the priest,
considerately. "Let it be enough if I say that your uncle's fortitude
failed to support him when he wanted it most. His love for the child
shook the firm hand which had never trembled before. In a word, the
operation failed. Your father returned, and found his child dying.
The frenzy of his despair when the truth was told him carried him to
excesses which it shocks me to mention--excesses which began in his
degrading his brother by a blow, which ended in his binding himself
by an oath to make that brother suffer public punishment for his fatal
rashness in a court of law. Your uncle was too heartbroken by what had
happened to feel those outrages as some men might have felt them. He
looked for one moment at his sister-in-law (I do not like to say your
mother, considering what I have now to tell you), to see if she would
acknowledge that she had encouraged him to attempt the operation, and
that she had deceived him in saying that he had his brother's permission
to try it. She was silent, and when she spoke, it was to join her
husband in denouncing him as the murderer of their child. Whether fear
of your father's anger, or revengeful indignation against your uncle
most actuated her, I cannot presume to inquire in your presence. I can
only state facts."

The priest paused and looked at me anxiously. I could not speak to him
at that moment--I could only encourage him to proceed by pressing his
hand.

He resumed in these terms:

"Meanwhile, your uncle turned to your father, and spoke the last words
he was ever to address to his eldest brother in this world. He said, 'I
have deserved the worst your anger can inflict on me, but I will spare
you the scandal of bringing me to justice in