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And you'll ho r His holy will, mother,
The pool- woman miulo no ; reply at that trying moment her
c ix failed her nhe could ; only press her son iu her arms,
weeping bitterly. She sat riear the bed, still holding his hand,
and placing her pale face on his breast, with au expression of
affection and grief impossible to describe.
"And you, too, my dear father. Thanks, thanks, for not
wishing your child should die alone !"
The unhappy Morreu, to whom these words of gratitude
were addressed, kept standing next the bed, with folded arms,
sombre and motionless. Ho could not account for the conflicting
sentiments and
moved his soul.
powerful emotions that at that moment
Throughout the entire journey he had unceasingly fought
against the divine inspirations, against the grace that was
sometimes beginning to touch him. At first he bitterly
reproached himself for having allowed Victor to accomplish
unrestrainedly his deplorable resolution -for having, in some
sort, sent him to perish in a foreign land. But, at that supreme
moment, his paternal affection was stronger than his
rancor and resentment.
" O Victor, my poor child !" he cried, shedding a torrent of
tears,
' '
can I reproach you, when I find you wounded and dy-
ing on your bed of pain ? . . Oh ! no, no," he continued,
casting himself iuto the arms of his son, " I'll not infuse gall
and bitterness into your last moments. . . . Only, you
may be sure, I'll not be long after . . . you. What conso-
lation, what joy, can remain to me $hen you
are taken from
me!"
" God will remain to you !" said '.he young man in a grave, solemn
voice, as if inspired, " God, the great Consoler, the hope of
the despondent and the strength of the weak God, who never
abandons those who confide in His . . . goodness. O fath-
er, father, if you only knew how short and light will be the
separation which is only the pledge, the promise of
union ! O dear father,
future re-
will you not turn to God ?"
The philosophe moved, but not convinced, kept a profound
silence.
"Father, will you let your sou die in the dread and sorrow
of an eternal separation ?"
"But you will not die, my son," interposed the mother.
"The Lord has always miraculously preserved you until now.
He will grant this favor to our "
prayers and tears.
"
My dear mother," Victor calmly replied, " do not let your-
self be deluded by the illusions of your love, but rather prepare
for the accomplishment of that Divine will which I am
sure has led me here and has really called me. And then
my sacrifice, mother, my sacrifice !"
Aud it seemed Victor had spoken truly, for, from that
moment, a rapid and fatal change took place in his condition.
The last faint ruddy hues disappeared from his hollow cheeks.
First a painful oppression stopped his breathing ; then a.rack-
ing couj.>h, which, draining his last strength, terrified and sad-
dened the hearts of those around him.
The physician, who only came onca in the course of the day,
was immediately sent for, and, on his arrival, shook his head
mournfully when he saw the patient. However, he applied
the stethoscope, and attentively examined him, while Morren
and his wife anxiously watched every movement, striving to
read their fate iu his eyes, in the expression of his face.
At length the physician drew near Stefano and the two Zou-
aves.
" I'm very much afraid of the rupture of a new blood vessel,
and, consequently, a new hemorrhage to-night," said he. "In
my opinion they ought not to put off any longer
the adminis-
"
tration of the sacraments to this poor young patient.
"
So, sir," said M. Morren, addressing the physician,
"you have just pronounced sentence. According to you there
ia no other remedy ; all hope is then lost ?"
" Believe me, itis very painful to me to be obliged to deprive
you of a last hope but I think I am ;
acting honestly in telling
you the whole truth. It is true, sir, your son may live some
days yet, and I wouldn't have insisted so earnestly on his re-
s -I' A II It I- .
. sist siwrnmnuts to-day if I were not afraid that RU
approaching hemorrhage might put an end to his suffering."
Meanwhile tho physician's sentence had been communicated
to the young patient.
" I ardently desire to receive those divine helps," he said,
" and I would have asked for them myself long since if I were
not animated with the secret hope of again seeing my dear parents.
"
Then Stefano went for the priest, while Nnnziata, with the
help of Joseph and Martin, prepared everything necessary for
the solemn ceremony.
The unhappy, dejected, and disheartened father stood mute
and motionless at the foot of the bed, while his wife, with
maternal care, arranged the snow-white pillows and warm bedclothes
around the wasted frame of her poor child. That
heroic mother, who seemed for an instant ready to succumb to
the dread and anguish of this approaching separation, had now
recovered all her courage, calmness, and firmness. The irrevocable
decree which the physician had pronounced, and
which, to all appearance, should have broken her heart, seem-'
ed on the contrary to have inspired her with supernatural
trauquility and divine strength. She had knelt for a moment
before the crucifix, imploring the calmness and courage neces-
sary at this trying moment; she had then seen her portrait,
placed by her son's hands at the foot of the cross, and recalled
that other Mother of Sorrows who in the midst of her dreadful
agony contemplated her Son suffering and dying for the salvation
of men. Thus, in her profound grief, but calm and resigned,
she had united her sacrifice to the bloody sacrifice of
Calvary.
" Mother," said Victor, in a scarcely audible voice, when she
bent over him to press her lips to his forehead, "mother, are
"
you satisfied now with all the Lord has willed and done?
" O my dear child," she "
replied, why shouldn't I be satis-
"
fied, seeing you so happy, so resigned, so calm !
"Mother," said he "
again, do you believe we'll be heard at
"
last? You know well what I mean
"Let us hope," she replied. "Let us always pray and
hope."
"O mother, how happy I'd be to die if that cherished hope
"
were at last realised !
At that moment the priest entered, and, as he crossed the
"
threshold, said: " Peace be to this house !
" And to all those who inhabit it?" responded the acolyte
clad iu B white tunic.
All those present then quitted the room, leaving the young
invalid to confess his sins to the servant of God, and, a few
mimites after, the pure and innocent soul beamed calmer and
purer still, thanks to the benediction of the minister cf the
Lord.
The priest then re-opened the door, and Victor's friends,
silent and deeply moved, came to kneel by the bed. The unhappy
father, fainting and almost beside himself, had dropped
on his knees in the darkest comer of the room. Not a tear
came to refresh his dry eyes and burning cheeks, although he
would have given all the world to be able to cry. Victor's
mother had resumed her place at the head of the bed.
After a short pause the priest began to recite the touching
prayers of the Church. Meanwhile, Nunziata had spread over
the invalid's bed a fine damask cloth of dazzling whiteness, and
while the acolyte recited the Confiteor, the priest prepared to
administer to the young martyr the Holy Viaticum the bread
of angels, the bread of the strong, the divine nourishment.
The young man's eyes suddenly beamed with joy, hapj
and ecstasy when the priest presented to his gaze the divine
Lamb of God, the holy Host, sacred pledge of our redemp-
tion.
All was over. The Divine Heart of Jesus reposed on the
heart of His dying servant in that moment of indescribable
ecstasy and happiness. Suddenly the young martyr's brow
aeemed illumined, as it were, with a dazzling aureole one had
said a reflection of the eternal beatitude crowning him one of
the elect.