Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1881-03-05
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him letter that had just come, received
no answer. and found the door locked;
suspected that something had happened.
called NJ. Doucet, and he sent me at
once for police commissioner, so that
the door might be opened i'm the presence
of an official. NJ. Doucet, the inspector,
and doctor, entered the room together.
was ordered to hold watch at the door
and let nobody in. WAITED long. When
the three came out. NJ Doucet looked
white as chalk He took me aside and
said: Il depend upon You az an old SER
want Of the house to make no talk for the
reputation Of the hotel would suffer in
and up to this time have not spoken to a
soul about the affair; | shall also speak
with nobody else about It; you were an
YOU ought to hear the truth. After some
hours the doctor came back with two as
sistants. The three shut themselves up
in the chamber where the corpse lay. and
staid there good hour. Late at night.
80 as not to alarm the other guests. the
coffin was brought into the house. The
next morning the folks from southern
France arrived They wanted to
see the corpse. went into the little sa-
lon where II Law 1t was in the coffin. The
face was not distorted wax yellow. About
the neck was bound high, stiff. white
cravat. reaching 10 the ears. cold
sudder ran through me when saw this.
l whispered to the landlord that the dead
man looked terribly with that cravat. NJ.
Doucet gave me frightened look and
whispered TO me to say nothing. NV
opinion is, Monsieur Colonel. that NJ. lis
son laid violent hands on himself, and
com"
Coste staggered backward pale AS death
and fell upon a sofa.
The waiter sprinkled his face with cold
water. and forced him to drink some.
Then, when the unhappy man had come
to himself, the waiter begged him once
more not to betray him, and went softly
away
Several days after this the Colonel went
back to Montpelier. but only to prepare
for removing to Paris. Soon after he took
up his abode in remote quarter OF the
city, in the neighborhood Of the cemetery
where Tisson was buried. He lived there
Il year-a silent. melancholy man; then
he began to pine away. and after a few
weeks took his bed. lie mad made no
acquaintance in Paris; nobody looked
him up to take care of him. The doctor
whom he had called in recommended him
to engage a Sister of Charity As nurse.
The Colonel assented to everything. The
nurse came and left his side neither night
nor day. She was Il strong. young wo
man, with "A very smooth. calm face, like
milk and blood. race of which one said.
on seeing IT for the first time. 1T is the
face of pure and cleanly person." and of
which. after regarding it attentively. one
found not much more TO say. She nursed
the lonesome, helpless old man carefully.
untiringly, without selfishness. without
concern. without hope. rs for years she
had nursed hundreds of sick and dying.
ale is growing weaker and weaker"
she informed the doctor, when he came
ON his visit one morning ut the usual hour.
'.IIe recognizes me no longer"
The doctor stepped to the sick-bed. The
Colonel lay with half-closed eyes, breath
ing gently The doctor felt his pulse. his
ferhead, his heart and then said. while he
slowly drew on his gloves:
Il hardly think he will outlive the day
| shall call again tonight. You may con-
tinue To give the medicine which | pre-
scribed Yesterday
The sister nodded. and after the doc
tor had gone. took up n piece of needle
work with which she was accustomed to
employ herself when the patient did not
need her services.
The day passed away quietly. No no.
ticeable change In the condition of the
dying man. 1t grew dark. The sister
stepped out of the still room on tiptoe, to
-. L. 4 In al L..
When she was in the kitchen she heard
the sick man speak She fastened to his
side. He had risen up in bed. His
features. which she could see but dimly
in the dusk. appeared to her to have grown
younger. The eyes, which had been half
shut through the day. were open wide.
They looked peaceful. friendly. The in
describably beautiful smile. with which
so many tired ones greet rest-promising
death. glorified his face.
1T is growing dark" he whispered;
.'wait tor me-we will go home together.
He sank back upon the pillow. His
breathing grew lighter and shorter-ever
lighter, ever shorter-at last ceased.
The sister stood for several minutes en-
tirelv motionless then she left the room.
and soon returned with the lighted lamp.
She held it above the head of the dead
man, so that the shade threw the clear light
full upon the still face. She regarded it
long, without the least emotion. without
tenderness. without pain. turned noiseless-
ly away, placed the lamp upon the table.
approached the bed again. and closed the
eyes of the departed In the same me-
thodical way she smoothed the pillow and
laid the calm head gently and carefully
upon it then she drew the sheets up be-
meath the chin of the dead man. and laid
wooden crucifix in the cold hands. after
she had folded them above the spread
then she lit two candles and placed one at
the head and one at the feet of the corpse
ut last she took flask that stood on the
commode. and poured the holy water
which it held into saucer. which she had
standing ready on chair beside the bed
As she did all this without hurry. without
hesitation. she looked refiectiyely about
the room. as ii a. make sure that she had
forgotten nothing. Her careful quiet look
scanned with the same indifferent serious
ness the corpse. the candles, the cross.
the saucer with the holy water; and when
she had convinced herself that nothing
was lacking. that everything was in good
order. she drew small. black book ont
of her pocket. opened it with certain hand
at n place well known to her. knelt. made
the sign of the cross. and with a hali-loud