istercian Lane, at the Red Cow? He is one whose errors, let us hope,
shall be pardoned, _quia multum amavit_. I am sure he felt ten times
more joy at hearing of Clive's legacy than if thousands had been
bequeathed to himself. May good health and good fortune speed him!

The days went on; and our hopes, raised sometimes, began to flicker
and fall. One evening the colonel left his chair for his bed in pretty
good spirits; but passed a disturbed night, and the next morning was
too weak to rise. Then he remained in his bed, and his friends visited
him there. One afternoon he asked for his little gown-boy, and the
child was brought to him, and sat by the bed with a very awe-stricken
face; and then gathered courage, and tried to amuse him by telling him
how it was a half-holiday, and they were having a cricket match with
the St. Peter's boys in the green, and Grey Friars was in and winning.
The colonel quite understood about it: he would like to see the game;
he had played many a game on that green when he was a boy. He grew
excited: Clive dismissed his father's little friend, and put a
sovereign into his hand; and away he ran to say that Codd Colonel had
come into a fortune, and to buy tarts, and to see the match out. _I_,
_curre_, little white-haired gown-boy! Heaven speed you, little
friend.

After the child had gone, Thomas Newcome began to wander more and
more. He talked louder; he gave the word of command, spoke Hindustanee
as if to his men. Then he spoke words in French rapidly, seizing a
hand that was near him, and crying, "Toujours, toujours!" But it was
Ethel's hand which he took. Ethel and Clive and the nurse were in the
room with him; the nurse came to us, who were sitting in the adjoining
apartment; Madame de Florac was there with my wife and Bayham.

At the look in the woman's countenance Madame de Florac started up.
"He is very bad; he wanders a great deal," the nurse whispered. The
French lady fell instantly on her knees, and remained rigid in prayer.

Some time afterward Ethel came in with a scared face to our pale
group. "He is calling for you again, dear lady," she said, going up to
Madame de Florac, who was still kneeling; "and just now he said he
wanted Pendennis to take care of his boy. He will not know you." She
hid her tears as she spoke.

She went into the room where Clive was at the bed's foot: the old man
within it talked on rapidly for a while; then again he would sigh and
be still; once more