was out, she untruly informed your uncle that his brother had
consented to the performance of the operation, and that he had
gone purposely out of the house because he had not nerve enough
to stay and witness it. After that, your uncle no longer
hesitated. He had no fear of results, provided he could be
certain of his own courage. All he dreaded was the effect on him
of his love for the child when he first found himself face to
face with the dreadful necessity of touching her skin with the
knife."

I tried hard to control myself, but I could not repress a shudder
at those words.

"It is useless to shock you by going into particulars," said the
priest, considerately. "Let it be enough if I say that your
uncle's fortitude failed to support him when he wanted it most.
His love for the child shook the firm hand which had never
trembled before. In a word, the operation failed. Your father
returned, and found his child dying. The frenzy of his despair
when the truth was told him carried him to excesses which it
shocks me to mention--excesses which began in his degrading his
brother by a blow, which ended in his binding himself by an oath
to make that brother suffer public punishment for his fatal
rashness in a court of law. Your uncle was too heartbroken by
what had happened to feel those outrages as some men might have
felt them. He looked for one moment at his sister-in-law (I do
not like to say your mother, considering what I have now to tell
you), to see if she would acknowledge that she had encouraged him
to attempt the operation, and that she had deceived him in saying
that he had his brother's permission to try it. She was silent,