"Monsieur l'abbe," said the old man to the priest, who remained beside
his friend after administering the communion, "help me to die in
peace. My heirs, like those of Cardinal Ximenes, are capable of
pillaging the house before my death, and I have no monkey to revive
me. Go and tell them I will have none of them in my house."
The priest and the doctor of the town went downstairs and repeated the
message of the dying man, adding, in their indignation, strong words
of their own.
"Madame Bougival," said the doctor, "close the iron gate and allow no
one to enter; even the dying, it seems, can have no peace. Prepare
mustard poultices and apply them to the soles of Monsieur's feet."
"Your uncle is not dead," said the abbe, "and he may live some time
longer. He wishes for absolute silence, and no one beside him but his
niece. What a difference between the conduct of that young girl and
yours!"
"Old hypocrite!" exclaimed Cremiere. "I shall keep watch of him. It is
possible he's plotting something against our interests."
The post master had already disappeared into the garden, intending to
watch there and wait his chance to be admitted to the house as an
assistant.
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