I arranged my necktie, put on a look of great distress, and went and, rang loudly at the old Jesuit’s door.  As he was deaf he made me wait a longish while, but at length appeared at his window in a cotton nightcap and asked what I wanted.

I shouted out at the top of my voice: 

“Make haste, reverend sir, and open the door; a poor, despairing, sick man is in need of your spiritual ministrations.”

The good, kind man put on his trousers as quickly as he could, and came down without his cassock.  I told him in a breathless voice that my uncle, the Freethinker, had been taken suddenly ill, and fearing it was going to be something serious, he had been seized with a sudden dread of death, and wished to see the priest and talk to him; to have his advice and comfort, to make his peace with the Church, and to confess, so as to be able to cross the dreaded threshold at peace with himself; and I added in a mocking tone: 

“At any rate, he wishes it, and if it does him no good it can do him no harm.”

The old Jesuit, who was startled, delighted, and almost trembling, said to me: 

“Wait a moment, my son; I will come with you.”  But I replied:  “Pardon me, reverend father, if I do not go with you; but my convictions will not allow me to do so.  I even refused to come and fetch you, so I beg you not to say that you have seen me, but to declare that you had a presentiment—­a sort of revelation of his illness.”

The priest consented and went off quickly; knocked at my uncle’s door, and was soon let in; and I saw the black cassock disappear within that stronghold of Free Thought.

I hid under a neighboring gateway to wait results.  Had he been well, my uncle would have half-murdered the Jesuit, but I knew that he would scarcely be able to move an arm, and I asked myself gleefully what sort of a scene would take place between these antagonists, what disputes, what arguments, what a hubbub, and what would be the issue of the situation, which my uncle’s indignation would render still more tragic?

I laughed till my sides ached, and said half aloud:  “Oh, what a joke, what a joke!”

Meanwhile it was getting very cold, and I noticed that the Jesuit stayed a long time, and I thought:  “They are having an argument, I suppose.”

One, two, three hours passed, and still the reverend father did not come out.  What had happened?  Had my uncle died in a fit when he saw him, or had he killed the cassocked gentleman?  Perhaps they had mutually devoured each other?  This last supposition appeared very unlikely, for I fancied that my uncle was quite incapable of swallowing a grain more nourishment at that moment.

At last the day broke.

I was very uneasy, and, not venturing to go into the house myself, went to one of my friends who lived opposite.  I woke him up, explained matters to him, much to his amusement and astonishment, and took possession of his window.