oom to execute his orders.
Guessing the thought of Rodin, the doctor whispered Father d'Aigrigny,
who went out.

"Come, reverend father," said the doctor, "we must begin again. This
time do not move."

Rodin did not answer, but clasped his hands over his head, closed his
eyes, and presented his chest. It was a strange, lugubrious, almost
fantastic spectacle. The three priests, in their long black gowns,
leaned over this body, which almost resembled a corpse, and blowing
through their tubes into the chest of the patient, seemed as if pumping
up his blood by some magic charm. A sickening odor of burnt flesh began
to spread through the silent chamber, and each assistant heard a slight
crackling beneath the smoking trivet; it was the skin of Rodin giving
way to the action of fire, and splitting open in four different parts of
his chest. The sweat poured from his livid face, which it made to shine;
a few locks of his gray hair stood up stiff and moist from his temples.
Sometimes the spasms were so violent, that the veins swelled on his
stiffened arms, and were stretched like cords ready to break.

Enduring this frightful torture with as much intrepid resignation as
the savage whose glory consists in despising pain, Rodin gathered his
strength and courage from the hope--we had almost said the certainty--of
life. Such was the make of this dauntless character, such the energy of
this powerful mind, that, in the midst of indescribable torments,
his one fixed idea never left him. During the rare intervals of
suffering--for pain is equal even at this degree of intensity--Rodin
still thought of the Rennepont inheritance, and calculated his chances,
and combined his measures, feeling that he had not a minute to lose. Dr.
Baleinier watched him with extreme attention, waiting for the effects
of the reaction of pain upon the patient, who seemed already to breathe
with less difficulty.

Suddenly Rodin placed his hand on his forehead, as if struck with some
new idea, and turning his head towards Dr. Baleinier, made a sign to him
to suspend the operation.

"I must tell you, reverend father," answered the doctor, "that it is not
half finished, and, if we leave off, the renewal will be more painful--"

Rodin made a sign that he did not care, and that he wanted to write.

"Gentlemen, stop a moment," said Dr. Baleinier; "keep down your moxas,
but do not blow the fire."

So the fire was to burn slowly, instead of fiercely, but still u