n the dying recover their intelligence and
sufficient strength to confess, and to receive the sacred body of our
Lord Jesus Christ. I have often heard families say that they do not wish
to alarm the invalid, that the sight of the minister of our Lord might
inspire a terror that would hasten the final end. It is a fatal error.
The priest does not terrify; he reassures the soul, at the beginning of
its long journey. He speaks in the name of the God of mercy, who comes
to save, not to destroy. I could cite to you many cases of dying people
who have been cured simply by contact with the sacred balm."

The nun spoke in a tone as mournful as her look. Her heart was evidently
not in the words which she uttered. Without doubt, she had learned them
when she first entered the convent. Then they expressed something
she really felt, she spoke her own thoughts; but, since then, she had
repeated the words over and over again to the friends of every sick
person that she attended, until they lost all meaning so far as she was
concerned. To utter them became simply a part of her duties as nurse,
the same as the preparation of draughts, and the making of poultices.

Noel was not listening to her; his thoughts were far away.

"Your dear mother," continued the nun, "this good lady that you love
so much, no doubt trusted in her religion. Do you wish to endanger her
salvation? If she could speak in the midst of her cruel sufferings--"

The advocate was on the point of replying, when the servant announced
that a gentleman, who would not give his name, wished to speak with him
on business.

"I will come," he said quickly.

"What do you decide, sir?" persisted the nun.

"I leave you free, sister, to do as you may judge best."

The worthy woman began to recite her lesson of thanks, but to no
purpose. Noel had disappeared with a displeased look; and almost
immediately she heard his voice in the next room, saying: "At last you
have come, M. Clergeot, I had almost given you up!"

The visitor, whom the advocate had been expecting, is a person well
known in the Rue St. Lazare, round about the Rue de Provence, the
neighbourhood of Notre Dame de Lorette, and all along the exterior
Boulevards, from the Chaussee des Martyrs to the Rond-Point of the old
Barriere de Clichy.

M. Clergeot is no more a usurer than M. Jourdin's father was a
shopkeeper. Only, as he has lots of money, and is very obliging, he
lends it to his friends; and, in return fo