“Dear Father Goriot, calm yourself. There, there, lie quietly and rest; don’t worry yourself, don’t think.”
“I shall not see them. Oh! the agony of it!”
“Really?” cried the old man, still wandering. “Oh! shall I see them; I shall see them and hear their voices. I shall die happy. Ah! well, after all, I do not wish to live; I cannot stand this much longer; this pain that grows worse and worse. But, oh! to see them, to touch their dresses--ah! nothing but their dresses, that is very little; still, to feel something that belongs to them. Let me touch their hair with my fingers... their hair...”
His head fell back on the pillow, as if a sudden heavy blow had struck him down, but his hands groped feebly over the quilt, as if to find his daughters’ hair.
“My blessing on them...” he said, making an effort, “my blessing...”
His voice died away. Just at that moment Bianchon came into the room.
“I met Christophe,” he said; “he is gone for your cab.”
Then he looked at the patient, and raised the closed eyelids with his fingers. The two students saw how dead and lustreless the eyes beneath had grown.
“He will not get over this, I am sure,” said Bianchon. He felt the old man’s pulse, and laid a hand over his heart.
“The machinery works still; more is the pity, in his state it would be better for him to die.”
“What is the matter with you? You are as pale as death.”
“Dear fellow, the moans and cries that I have just heard.... There is a God! Ah! yes, yes, there is a God, and He has made a better world for us, or this world of ours would be a nightmare. I could have cried like a child; but this is too tragical, and I am sick at heart.
“We want a lot of things, you know; and where is the money to come from?”
“There, be quick and pawn it. I do not want to stop on the way to the Rue du Helder; there is not a moment to lose, I am afraid, and I must wait here till Christophe comes back. I have not a farthing; I shall have to pay the cabman when I get home again.”
Rastignac rushed down the stairs, and drove off to the Rue du Helder. The awful scene through which he had just passed quickened his imagination, and he grew fiercely indignant. He reached Mme. de Restaud’s house only to be told by the servant that his mistress could see no one.