pon
the skin of the patient. In spite of this pain, less intense, but still
sharp and keen, Rodin, stretched upon his back, began to write, holding
the paper above his head. On the first sheet he traced some alphabetic
signs, part of a cipher known to himself alone. In the midst of the
torture, a luminous idea had crossed his mind; fearful of forgetting it
amidst his sufferings, he now took note of it. On another paper he wrote
the following, which was instantly delivered to Father d'Aigrigny: "Send
B. immediately to Faringhea, for the report of the last few days with
regard to Djalma, and let B. bring it hither on the instant." Father
d'Aigrigny went out to execute this new order. The cardinal approached
a little nearer to the scene of the operation, for, in spite of the bad
odor of the room, he took delight in seeing the Jesuit half roasted,
having long cherished against him the rancor of an Italian and a priest.

"Come, reverend father," said the doctor to Rodin, "continue to be
admirably courageous, and your chest will free itself. You have still a
bitter moment to go through--and then I have good hope."

The patient resumed his former position. The moment Father d'Aigrigny
returned, Rodin questioned him with a look, to which the reverend father
replied by a nod. At a sign from the doctor, the four assistants began
to blow through the tubes with all their might. This increase of torture
was so horrible, that, in spite of his self-control, Rodin gnashed his
teeth, started convulsively, and so expanded his palpitating chest,
that, after a violent spasm, there rose from his throat and lungs a
scream of terrific pain--but it was free, loud, sonorous.

"The chest is free!" cried the doctor, in triumph. "The lungs have
play--the voice returns--he is saved!--Blow, gentlemen, blow; and,
reverend father, cry out as much as you please: I shall be delighted to
hear you, for it will give you relief. Courage! I answer for the result.
It is a wonderful cure. I will publish it by sound of trumpet."

"Allow me, doctor," whispered Father d'Aigrigny, as he approached Dr.
Baleinier; "the cardinal can witness, that I claimed beforehand the
publication of this affair--as a miraculous fact."

"Let it be miraculous then," answered Dr. Baleinier, disappointed--for
he set some value on his own work.

On hearing he was saved, Rodin though his sufferings were perhaps worse
than ever, for the fire had now pierced the scarf-skin, assumed a