hing in the most sumptuous style. He must have at
least six hundred tapers, and a dozen funeral lamps, burning spirits of
wine, to hang just over the body, and light it from above: the effect
would be excellent. We must also distribute little tracts to the people,
concerning the pious and ascetic life of his reverence--"

Here a sudden noise, like that of some piece of metal thrown angrily on
the floor, was heard from the next room, in which was the sick man, and
interrupted the prelate in his description.

"I hope Father Rodin has not heard you talk of embalming him, my lord,"
said Rousselet, in a whisper: "his bed touches the partition, and almost
everything is audible through it."

"If Father Rodin has heard me," answered the cardinal, sinking his
voice, and retiring to the other end of the room, "this circumstance
will enable me to enter at once on the business; but, in any case,
I persist in believing that the embalming and the lying in state are
required to make a good effect upon the public. The people are already
frightened at the cholera, and such funeral pomp would have no small
influence on the imagination."

"I would venture to observe to your Eminence, that here the laws are
opposed to such exhibitions."

"The laws--already the laws!" said the cardinal, angrily; "has not Rome
also her laws? And is not every priest a subject of Rome? Is it not
time--"

But, not choosing, doubtless, to begin a more explicit conversation with
the young doctor, the prelate resumed, "We will talk of this hereafter.
But, tell me, since my last visit, has the reverend father had any fresh
attacks of delirium?"

"Yes, my lord; here is the note, as your Eminence commanded." So saying
Rousselet delivered a paper to the prelate. We will inform the reader
that this part of the conversation between Rousselet and the cardinal
was carried on at a distance from the partition, so that Rodin could
hear nothing of it, whilst that which related to the embalming had been
perfectly audible to him.

The cardinal, having received the note from Rousselet, perused it with
an expression of lively curiosity. When he had finished, he crumpled
it in his hand, and said, without attempting to dissemble his vexation,
"Always nothing but incoherent expression. Not two words together, from
which you can draw any reasonable conclusion. One would really think
this man had the power to control himself even in his delirium, and to
rave about insignific