Les Miserables

(やまだぃちぅ) #1

68 Les Miserables


‘I am something of a doctor; I know in what fashion the
last hour draws on. Yesterday, only my feet were cold; to-day,
the chill has ascended to my knees; now I feel it mounting
to my waist; when it reaches the heart, I shall stop. The sun
is beautiful, is it not? I had myself wheeled out here to take
a last look at things. You can talk to me; it does not fatigue
me. You have done well to come and look at a man who is on
the point of death. It is well that there should be witnesses
at that moment. One has one’s caprices; I should have liked
to last until the dawn, but I know that I shall hardly live
three hours. It will be night then. What does it matter, after
all? Dying is a simple affair. One has no need of the light for
that. So be it. I shall die by starlight.’
The old man turned to the shepherd lad:—
‘Go to thy bed; thou wert awake all last night; thou art
t ired.’
The child entered the hut.
The old man followed him with his eyes, and added, as
though speaking to himself:—
‘I shall die while he sleeps. The two slumbers may be
good neighbors.’
The Bishop was not touched as it seems that he should
have been. He did not think he discerned God in this
manner of dying; let us say the whole, for these petty con-
tradictions of great hearts must be indicated like the rest: he,
who on occasion, was so fond of laughing at ‘His Grace,’ was
rather shocked at not being addressed as Monseigneur, and
he was almost tempted to retort ‘citizen.’ He was assailed by
a fancy for peevish familiarity, common enough to doctors
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