g left
now."

Eugene went over to Christophe and whispered in the man's ear, "I will
pay you well, and Sylvie too, for your trouble."

"My daughters told you that they were coming, didn't they, Christophe?
Go again to them, and I will give you five francs. Tell them that I am
not feeling well, that I should like to kiss them both and see them once
again before I die. Tell them that, but don't alarm them more than you
can help."

Rastignac signed to Christophe to go, and the man went.

"They will come before long," the old man went on. "I know them so well.
My tender-hearted Delphine! If I am going to die, she will feel it so
much! And so will Nasie. I do not want to die; they will cry if I die;
and if I die, dear Eugene, I shall not see them any more. It will
be very dreary there where I am going. For a father it is hell to be
without your children; I have served my apprenticeship already since
they married. My heaven was in the Rue de la Jussienne. Eugene, do you
think that if I go to heaven I can come back to earth, and be near them
in spirit? I have heard some such things said. It is true? It is as if
I could see them at this moment as they used to be when we all lived
in the Rue de la Jussienne. They used to come downstairs of a morning.
'Good-morning, papa!' they used to say, and I would take them on my
knees; we had all sorts of little games of play together, and they had
such pretty coaxing ways. We always had breakfast together, too, every
morning, and they had dinner with me--in fact, I was a father then. I
enjoyed my children. They did not think for themselves so long as they
lived in the Rue de la Jussienne; they knew nothing of the world; they
loved me with all their hearts. _Mon Dieu!_ why could they not always
be little girls? (Oh! my head! this racking pain in my head!) Ah! ah!
forgive me, children, this pain is fearful; it must be agony indeed, for
you have used me to endure pain. _Mon Dieu!_ if only I held their hands
in mine, I should not feel it at all.--Do you think that they are on the
way? Christophe is so stupid; I ought to have gone myself. _He_ will see
them. But you went to the ball yesterday; just tell me how they looked.
They did not know that I was ill, did they, or they would not have been
dancing, poor little things? Oh! I must not be ill any longer. They
stand too much in need of me; their fortunes are in danger. And such
husbands as they are bound to! I must get well! (Oh! what pain