s!"

CHAPTER XXVIII. GOOD NEWS.

By the alteration in the countenance of Father d'Aigrigny, his pale
cheek, and the feebleness of his walk, one might see that the terrible
scene in the square of Notre-Dame, had violently reacted upon his
health. Yet his face was radiant and triumphant, as he entered Rodin's
chamber, exclaiming: "Excellent news!"

On these words, Rodin started. In spite of his weakness, he raised his
head, and his eyes shone with a curious, uneasy, piercing expression.
With his lean hand, he beckoned Father d'Aigrigny to approach the
bed, and said to him, in a broken voice, so weak that it was scarcely
audible: "I am very ill--the cardinal has nearly finished me--but if
this excellent news--relates to the Rennepont affair--of which I hear
nothing--it might save me yet!"

"Be saved then!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, forgetting the recommendations
of Dr. Baleinier; "read, rejoice! What you foretold is beginning to be
realized!"

So saying, he drew a paper from his pocket, and delivered it to Rodin,
who seized it with an eager and trembling hand. Some minutes before,
Rodin would have been really incapable of continuing his conversation
with the cardinal, even if prudence had allowed him to do so; nor could
he have read a single line, so dim had his sight become. But, at the
words of Father d'Aigrigny, he felt such a renewal of hope and vigor,
that, by a mighty effort of energy and will, he rose to a sitting
posture, and, with clear head, and look of intelligent animation, he
read rapidly the paper that Father d'Aigrigny had just delivered to him.

The cardinal, amazed at this sudden transfiguration, asked himself if he
beheld the same man, who, a few minutes before, had fallen back on
his bed, almost insensible. Hardly had Rodin finished reading, than
he uttered a cry of stifled joy, saying, with an accent impossible to
describe: "ONE gone! it works--'tis well!" And, closing his eyes in
a kind of ecstatic transport, a smile of proud triumph overspread his
face, and rendered him still more hideous, by discovering his yellow and
gumless teeth. His emotion was so violent, that the paper fell from his
trembling hand.

"He has fainted," cried Father d'Aigrigny, with uneasiness, as he leaned
over Rodin. "It is my fault, I forgot that the doctor cautioned me not
to talk to him of serious matters."

"No; do not reproach yourself," said Rodin, in a low voice, half-raising
himself in the bed. "This unexp