"No, Dr. John: the fever took its turn that night--now, don't make out
that I was delirious, for I know differently."
"Good! you were as collected as myself at this moment, no doubt. Your
wanderings had taken an opposite direction to the pensionnat. Near the
Beguinage, amidst the stress of flood and gust, and in the perplexity
of darkness, you had swooned and fallen. The priest came to your
succour, and the physician, as we have seen, supervened. Between us we
procured a fiacre and brought you here. Pere Silas, old as he is,
would carry you up-stairs, and lay you on that couch himself. He would
certainly have remained with you till suspended animation had been
restored: and so should I, but, at that juncture, a hurried messenger
arrived from the dying patient I had scarcely left--the last duties
were called for--the physician's last visit and the priest's last
rite; extreme unction could not be deferred. Pere Silas and myself
departed together, my mother was spending the evening abroad; we gave
you in charge to Martha, leaving directions, which it seems she
followed successfully. Now, are you a Catholic?"
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