“I have questioned Monsieur Renandin,” at length answered the counselor in a bewildered way. “There is no will.”
Théophile looked at Auguste; was it not sufficiently evident? the Duveyriers had searched everything. Clotilde saw the glance, and was greatly irritated with her husband. What was the matter with him? was grief sending him to sleep? And she added:
“Papa has no doubt done what he thought right. We shall learn it only too soon, heaven knows!”
Meanwhile, the hours passed away. At eleven o’clock they had a diversion, Doctor Juillerat again calling. The patient’s condition was becoming worse and worse, it was now even doubtful whether he would be able to recognize his children before dying. And the sobbing started afresh when Clémence announced the Abbe Mand-uit. Clotilde, who rose to meet him, was the first to receive his consolations. He appeared to be deeply affected by the family visitation; he had an encouraging word for each. Then, with much tact, he talked of the rites of religion, insinuating that they should not let that soul pass away without the succor of the Church.
“I had thought of it,” murmured Clotilde.
But Théophile raised objections. The father was not at all religious; he had at one time very advanced ideas, for he was a reader of Voltaire’s works; in short, the best thing was to do nothing, as they were unable to consult him. In the heat of the discussion, he even added:
“It is as though you brought the sacrament to that piece of furniture.”
The three women compelled him to leave off. They were all trembling with emotion, and said that the priest was right, whilst they excused themselves for not having sent for him before, through the confusion in which the catastrophe had plunged them. Monsieur Vabre would certainly have consented had he been able to speak, for he had a horror of acting different to other people. Moreover, the ladies would take the responsibility on their own shoulders.
“It should be done, if only on account of the neighbors,” repeated Clotilde.
“No doubt,” said the Abbé Mauduit, who hastened to give his approval. “A man of your father’s position should set a good example.”
Auguste had no opinion either way. But Duveyrier, aroused from his recollections of Clarisse, whose way of putting on her stockings with one leg in the air he was just then thinking of, energetically demanded the sacraments. They were absolutely necessary; not a member of the family should die without them. Doctor Juillerat, who had discreetly moved on one side, hiding his freethinker’s disdain, then went up to the priest, and said familiarly to him, in a whisper, the same as to a colleague often encountered under similar circumstances: