"I am pleased to see that I have been misinformed.
You certainly do not seem to me to be ill."
"Monsieur," replied the old man, "I am going to recover."
He paused, and then said:--
"I shall die three hours hence."
Then he continued:--
"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 tired."
The child entered the hut.