“To HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF HEREWARD, MEURICE’S, PARIS:  I am dying.  Come immediately.

“JOHN SCOTT, Convent of St. Rosalie, L’Ange.”

“That will do,” said Mr. Setter, inspecting his work.  “Now, Smith,” he added, handing the paper to one of his officers, “hurry with this message to the telegraph office at the railway station at L’Ange.  See that it is sent off promptly, for it is a matter of life and death, as you know.  Wait for an answer, and when you get it hasten back with it.”

“All right, sir,” answered the man, taking the paper, and hurrying away.

The other men, whose services were no longer required, followed him out to go about their business.

The inspector and the surgeon, seeing the lady abbess about to address them, lingered.

“I hope, messieurs, that you will freely call upon us for anything that may be needed for the relief of your patient, or for the convenience of yourselves,” she said, with grave courtesy.

“Thanks, madame, we will do so,” replied the surgeon, with a deep bow.

“And, above all, the interests of his immortal soul should be taken care of.  If he should need spiritual comfort, here is Father Garbennetti, who will wait on him,” added the abbess, solemnly.

“Your ladyship’s holiness is very good.  I happen to know the man is a Romanist, and if he should ask for a priest, I will let your reverend ladyship know,” said Mr. Setter.

“Do so.  Monsieur l’Inspecteur.  And tell him the name of the priest I proposed for him—­Father Garbennetti, of San Vito, Italy; for I have reason to believe that this holy father once knew your patient very intimately,” added the abbess.

“Stay, now—­what was the priest’s name again?  I never can get the name of these foreigners,” muttered Mr. Setter, with a puzzled air.

“Father Garbennetti, of San Vito, Italy.  But I will write it for you.  Lend me your pencil and tablets, monsieur, if you please.”

Mr. Setter placed his pocket writing material in the hands of the lady, with his best bow.

She carefully wrote the name of the Italian priest on a blank leaf and returned the pencil and the book to the inspector, who received them with another bow.

Doctor Dubourg and Inspector Setter then “bowed” themselves out of the lady’s presence and returned to the bedside of the wounded man.

The abbess gave a few more directions to the lay sisters who were engaged in restoring the room to order, and then she withdrew from the refectory and returned to her own apartment, where she had left Salome and the little Sister Felecitie.

She found them still waiting there; and both engaged in the little bit of knitting or embroidery that they always carried in their pockets to take up at odd moments that would otherwise be wasted in idleness, which was held to be a grave fault, if not a deadly sin, by the sisterhood, and, besides, from the sale of this work they realized a very considerable income.