, gray hair standing
up all around his greenish face, fixing his red and flaming eyes upon the
cardinal, he seized him with convulsive grasp, and exclaimed in a
terrible voice, half stifled in his throat: "Cardinal Malipieri--this
illness is too sudden--they suspect me at Rome--you are of the race of
the Borgias--and your secretary was with me this morning!"

"Unhappy man! what does he dare insinuate?" cried the prelate, as amazed
as he was indignant at the accusation. So saying, the cardinal strove to
free himself from the grasp of Rodin, whose fingers were now as stiff as
iron.

"I am poisoned!" muttered Rodin, and sinking back, he fell into the arms
of Father d'Aigrigny.

Notwithstanding his alarm, the cardinal had time to whisper to the
latter: "He thinks himself poisoned. He must therefore be plotting
something very dangerous."

The door of the room opened. It was Dr. Baleinier.

"Oh, doctor!" cried the princess, as she ran pale and frightened towards
him; "Father Rodin has been suddenly attacked with terrible convulsions.
Quick! quick!"

"Convulsions? oh! it will be nothing, madame," said the doctor, throwing
down his hat upon a chair, and hastily approaching the group which
surrounded the sick man.

"Here is the doctor!" cried the princess. All stepped aside, except
Father d'Aigrigny, who continued to support Rodin, leaning against a
chair.

"Heavens! what symptoms!" cried Dr. Baleinier, examining with growing
terror the countenance of Rodin, which from green was turning blue.

"What is it?" asked all the spectators, with one voice.

"What is it?" repeated the doctor, drawing back as if he had trodden upon
a serpent. "It is the cholera! and contagious!"

On this frightful, magic word, Father d'Aigrigny abandoned his hold of
Rodin, who rolled upon the floor.

"He is lost!" cried Dr. Baleinier. "But I will run to fetch the means for
a last effort." And he rushed towards the door.

The Princess de Saint-Dizier, Father d'Aigrigny, the bishop, and the
cardinal followed in terror the flight of Dr. Baleinier. They all pressed
to the door, which, in their consternation, they could not open. It
opened at last but from without--and Gabriel appeared upon the threshold.
Gabriel, the type of the true priest, the holy, the evangelical minister,
to whom we can never pay enough of respect and ardent sympathy, and
tender admiration. His angelic countenance, in its mild serenity, offered
a striking contrast of the