The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1915-06-19
Continued from page 50
A PAGAN SACRIFICE.

ter than earth where such women be-
long. But here is the room of my
poor young patient. You may guess
he is bad way when even Sister
Angela cannot manage him. / have
been obliged to get a strong man to
hold him in his paroxysms."
They entered half-open door, as
he spoke On the spotless bed, in
the middle of the little room, lay the
pitiful wreck of once glorious man
hood.
The gaunt, wasted frame still show
ed what had been it's early strength
and grace; the well-shaped head, with
its dark curling locks, must once have
been fitting model for an Apollo or
an Antinous. Now it lay SO rigid and
CHASTITY on it's pillow that the doctor
thought for moment all was over.
Gone, has hep he asked of the
man who met him near the doorway.
The nurse shook his head
mo, sir; just worn out after one
of his wild spells. He will break out
again in minute; his pulse is strong
yet. | don't see how he holds out"
Keep him as quiet as you can.
This is Professor Lester, the gentle
man he has been asking for. When
he rouses, let him see him"
And the doctor hurried away to his
other patients.
You are not a clergyman, sir?'
said the nurse, doubtfully.
NO. was the answer.
Because l could not vouch for the
patients ciyility if you were. He
raves at the very mention of one.
Take chair, sir; he is rousing now.''
The dying man turned restlessly on
his pillow, as his visitor seated him.
self at his bedside. The face that met
the professors gaze was that of an
absolute stranger, yet the dark, burn
ing eyes, sunken in their cavernous
sockets, flashed recognition.
Professor Lester was the hoarse-
1y gasped greeting. You've come to
me; thought you would"
Certainly was the kind reply, as
the professor took the icy hand ex-
tended to him. Il am glad to be of
any service to you. What can do
for you?
Do for me? What have you been
doing all these years.
All these years, repeated the pro-
lessor, mystified. My dear friend, /
fear you mistake me for some one
else. We have never to my knowl-
edge, met, before. do not know
you.
But have known you, painted the
sick man eagerly. i've heard your
lectures; read your books, your writ
tings You've taught meto see
things as you see them, professor: to
break loose from all the cursed shack.
les the prating, canting fools would
put on us: to be a mana free man.
I've done it..
The professor shrank from the evil
light that flashed into the dying eye
There wasn't any heaven or hell
to stop me; SO why shouldn't a fel.
low have his swing. Mine was a
wide swing, and fine one; though
ii seems it wasn't to be a long one
Now they tell me it's come to an end
I've got to diera shiver convulsed
the gaunt frame-"to die. I've be,
leved in you, professor. You've
studied, and read, and settled up all
these things. know. I've heard you
knock all the priests and parsons
teachings into bits. | want you to
tell me, now, again SO it will steady
me. what this thing they call dying
| Isl
There was a moments silence; the
professor found himself mastered BY
a horror, repulsion, too deep fo1
words.
This tattered. evil wreck BoastiHg
himself his pupil, appealing to him