This morning I attended the funeral, it was very splendid and very touching." Orlando did not insist, but contented himself with saying that he also had felt much emotion all the morning on thinking of that funeral.

Then, as he turned to set the papers on the table in order with his trembling hands, his son, icy cold with perspiration, staggering and clinging to the back of a chair in order that he might not fall, again gave Pierre a long glance, but a very soft one, full of distracted gratitude.
"I am leaving this evening," resumed Pierre, who felt exhausted and wished to break off the conversation, "and I must now bid you farewell.
Have you any commission to give me for Paris ?" "No, none," replied Orlando; and then, with sudden recollection, he added, "Yes, I have, though! You remember that book written by my old comrade in arms, Theophile Morin, one of Garibaldi's Thousand, that manual for the bachelor's degree which he desired to see translated and adopted here.

Well, I am pleased to say that I have a promise that it shall be used in our schools, but on condition that he makes some alterations in it.

Luigi, give me the book, it is there on that shelf." Then, when his son had handed him the volume, he showed Pierre some notes which he had pencilled on the margins, and explained to him the modifications which were desired in the general scheme of the work.

"Will you be kind enough," he continued, "to take this copy to Morin himself?
His address is written inside the cover.