“Don’t listen to him, my lad,” said Mère Lefrançois. “Haven’t they tortured you enough already? You’ll grow still weaker. Here! swallow this.”
And she gave him some good beef-tea, a slice of mutton, a piece of bacon, and sometimes small glasses of brandy, that he had not the strength to put to his lips.
Abbé Bournisien, hearing that he was growing worse, asked to see him. He began by pitying his sufferings, declaring at the same time that he ought to rejoice at them since it was the will of the Lord, and take advantage of the occasion to reconcile himself to Heaven.
“For,” said the ecclesiastic in a paternal tone, “you rather neglected your duties; you were rarely seen at divine worship. How many years is it since you approached the holy table? I understand that your work, that the whirl of the world may have kept you from care for your salvation. But now is the time to reflect. Yet don’t despair. I have known great sinners, who, about to appear before God