Memoirs of a Physician (58 page)

As for Andre, she remained standing there, cold, mute and pale. Then, as if Balsamo had borne away with him life and strength, she tottered, drooped and fell. Balsamo, in his eagerness to follow Lorenza, had forgotten to awaken her.

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Andre did not sink, as we have said, all at once, but gradually, in the manner we will attempt to describe.

Alone, abandoned, overpowered with that deathlike coldness which succeeds any violent nervous shock, Andre began to tremble and totter like one suffering from the commencement of an epileptic fit.

Gilbert had never moved rigid, immovable, leaning forward, and devouring her with his gaze. But, as it may readily be imagined, Gilbert, entirely ignorant of magnetic phenomena, dreamed neither of sleep nor of suffered violence. He had heard nothing, or almost nothing, of her dialogue with Balsamo. But for the second time, at Trianon as at Taverney, Andre had appeared to obey the summons of this man, who had acquired such a strange and terrible power over her. To Gilbert, therefore, everything resolved itself in this : Mile. Andre has, if not a lover, at least a man whom she loves, and to whom she grants a rendezvous at night.

The dialogue which had taken place between Andre and Balsamo, although sustained in a low voice, had all the appearance of a quarrel. Balsamo, excited, flying, frantic, seemed like a lover in despair ; Andre, left alone, mute and motionless, like the fair one he had abandoned.

It was at this moment that he saw the young girl totter, wring her hands, and sink slowly to the ground. Then she uttered twice or thrice a groan so deep that her oppressed heart seemed torn by the effort. She endeavored, or, rather, nature endeavored, to throw back the overpower-ing mass of fluid which, during the magnetic sleep, had endowed her with that double sight which we have seen, in the preceding chapter, produce such strange phenomena.

But nature was overpowered ; Andre could not succeed in throwing off the remains of that mysterious will which Balsamo had forgotten to withdraw. She. could not loose the marvelous, inexplicable ties which had bound her hand and foot ; and by dint of struggling, she fell into those convulsions which in the olden time the Pythoness suffered upon her tripod before the crowd of religious

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questioners who swarmed arormd the peristyle of the tem-ple. Andre lost her equilibrium, and uttering a heartrending groan, fell to the ground as if she had been struck by the flash which at that moment furrowed the vault of heaven.

But she had not yet touched the earth when Gilbert, strong and agile as a panther, darted toward her, seized her in his arms, and, without being conscious that he carried a burden, bore her back into the chamber which she had left to obey Balsamo’s summons, and in which the candle was yet burning beside the disarranged couch.

Gilbert found all the doors open as Andre had left them. As he entered he stumbled against the sofa, and placed on it the cold and inanimate form of the young girl. The most pressing matter was to recall this beautiful statue to life. He looked round for the carafe, in order to sprinkle some drops of water in Andre’s face.

But just as his trembling hand was stretched forth to grasp the thin neck of the crystal ewer, it seemed to him that a firm but light step sounded on the stairs leading to Andre’s chamber.

It could not be Xicole, for Xicole had fled with M. cle Beausire ; it could not be Balsamo, for Balsamo was spur-ring with lightning haste to Paris. It could, therefore, only be a stranger.

Gilbert, if discovered, was lost ; Andre was to him like one of those princesses of Spain, whom a subject may not touch, even to save their life.

All these ideas rushed like a whirlwind through Gilbert’s mind in less time than we can relate them. He could not calculate the exact distance of the footstep, which every moment approached still nearer, for the storm which raged without dulled every other sound ; but, gifted with extraordinary coolness and foresight, the young man felt that that was no place for him, and that the most important matter was to conceal himself from sight.

He hastily blew out the candle which illumined the apartment, and entered the closet which served as Nicole’s sleeping-chamber. From this hiding-place he could see

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through the glass door into Andre’s apartment, and also into the antechamber.

In this antechamber a night-lamp was burning upon a little console-table. Gilbert had at first thought of extinguishing it as he had done the candle, but he had not time ; the step echoed upon the corridor, a repressed breathing was heard, the figure of a man appeared upon the threshold, glided timidly into the antechamber, and closed the door.

Gilbert had only time to hasten into Nicole’s closet, and to draw the glass door after him.

He held his breath, pressed his face against the stained-glass panes, and listened eagerly.

The storm still howled wildly outside, large raindrops beat against the windows of Andre’s apartment and those of the corridor, where a casement, accidentally left open, creaked upon its hinges, and every now and then, dashed back by the wind which rushed into the corridor, struck noisily against its frame.

But the war of the elements, terrible as it was, produced no effect on Gilbert. His whole soul was concentrated in his gaze, which was riveted upon this man. He crossed the antechamber, passed not two paces distant from Gilbert, and unhesitatingly entered the principal apartment.

As he advanced, he jostled with his arm against the candle upon the table. The candle fell, and Gilbert heard the crystal socket break in falling on the marble table. Then the man called twice in a subdued voice :

” Nicole ! Nicole ! “

< l What, Nicole ! ” thought Gilbert, in his hiding-place. “Why does this man call Nicole instead of Andre ? ‘

But as no voice replied to his, the man lifted the candle from the floor, and proceeded on tiptoe to light it at the night-lamp in the antechamber. It was then that Gilbert riveted his whole attention npon this strange nocturnal visitor ; he grazed as if his vision could have pierced ^the wall. All at once he trembled, and, even in his hiding-place, recoiled a step back ward .

By the light of these two flames combined, Gilbert, 19 DUMAS VOL. VII.

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trembling and half dead with affright, recognized in this man who held the candle in his hands the king !

Then all was explained Nicole’s flight, the money she had given Beausire, the door left open, the interviews between Richelieu and Taverney, and the whole of that dark and mysterious intrigue of which the young girl was the center.

He would have cried out, but fear that unreflecting, capricious, irresistible feeling the fear he felt for this man, whose name had still a charm the King of France tied Gilbert’s tongue. He slipped stealthily from the closet, gained the antechamber, and fled as if the Avenger were behind him.

In the meantime, Louis entered the room, candle in hand, and perceived Andre reclining on the couch, wrapped in a long muslin dressing-gown, her head drooping on her shoulder.

He murmured some words in a caressing voice, and putting his light upon the table, he knelt beside the young girl, and kissed her hand. It was icy cold. Alarmed, he started up, hastily put aside her dressing-gown, and placed his trembling hand upon her heart. Her heart was cold and motionless.

Just then a fearful peal of thunder made every article of furniture in the room shake, even to the couch before which Louis was standing. A livid and sulphurous flash of lightning threw so dazzling a light over Andre’s countenance, that Louis, alarmed at her paleness, her motionless, attitude, and her silence, started back, murmuring-:

” This girl is surely dead ! “

At the came instant, the idea of having a corpse before him sent an icy chill through the king’s veins. He seized the candle, held it close to Andre’s face, and hastily examined her features by the light of the trembling flame. Beholding her livid lips, her swollen and discolored eyes, her disheveled hair, her chest, which no breath stirred, he uttered a cry, let the light fall, staggered back, and reeled like a drunken man into the anteroom, against the walls of which he stumbled in his alarm.

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Then his hasty step sounded upon the stairs, then on the gravel walks of the garden, and was soon lost in tho howling storm which raged through the long alleys and shady groves of Trianon.

CHAPTER LIV.

THE WILL.

WE have seen Balsamo depart. Djerid bore him on with the speed of lightning, while the rider, pale with terror and impatience, bent forward over the flowing mane, breathing with half -opened lips the air which the crest of the noble steed cleft, as the rapid prow of the vessel cuts the waves.

Behind him, houses and trees disappeared like fantastic visions. He scarcely perceived, as he passed, the clumsy wagon groaning on its axle-tree, while its five huge horses started with affright at the approach of this living meteor which they could not imagine to belong to the same race as themselves.

Balsamo proceeded at this rate for a league, with whirling brain, sparkling eyes, and panting breath. Horse and rider had traversed Versailles in a few seconds. The startled inhabitants who happened to be in the streets had seen a long train of sparkles flash past them nothing more. A second league was passed in like manner. Djerid had accomplished the distance in little more than a quarter of an hour, and yet this quarter of an hour had seemed to his rider a century. All at once a thought darted through his brain. He pulled up suddenly, throwing the noble courser back upon his haunches, while his fore feet plowed the ground.

Horse and rider breathed for a moment. Drawing a long breath, Balsamo raised his head. Then, wiping the perspiration from his forehead., while his nostrils dilated in the breeze of night, he murmured :

” Oh ! madman that you are, neither the rapidity of

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your steed nor the ardor of jour desire will ever equal the instantaneous effect of thunder or the rapidity of the electric flash, and yet it is that which yon require to avert the danger impending over you. You require the rapid effect, the instantaneous, the all-powerful shock, which will paralyze the feet whose activity you fear, the tongue whose speech destroys you. You require, at this distance, the victorious sleep which restores to you the possession of the slave who has broken her chain. Oh ! if she should ever again be in my power ! “

And Balsamo ground his teeth, with a despairing gesture.

” Oh ! you do well to wish, Balsamo, you do well to fly ! ” exclaimed he. ” Lorenza has already arrived ; she is about to speak she has, perhaps, already spoken. Oh, wretched woman ! no punishment can be terrible enough for you. “

” Let me try,” continued Balsamo, frowning, his eyes fixed, and his chin resting on his hand, “let me try. Either science is a dream or a fact it is either impotent or powerful ; let me try. ‘ Lorenza, Lorenza ! it is my will that you sleep, wheresoever you may be. Lorenza, sleep sleep ; it is my will. I reckon upon your obedience.’

” Oh, no, no ! ” murmured he, despairingly ; ” no, I utter a falsehood ; I do not believe I dare not reckon upon it and yet the will is all. Oh ! I will it with my whole soul, with all the strength of my being ! Cleave the air, my potent will ; traverse all the current of opposing or indifferent wills ; pass through walls in thy course like a bullet from a gun ; follow her wherever she is. Go strike destroy ! Lorenza ! Lorenza ! it is my will that you sleep. Be dumb at my command.”

And for some moments he concentrated his thoughts upon this aim, imprinting it on his brain as if to lend it more speed in its flight toward Paris. Then, after this mysterious operation to which, doubtless, all the divine atoms animated by God, the Master and Lord of all things, assisted Balsamo, once more setting his teeth hard and clinching his hands, gave the reins to Djerid, but this

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time without using either the knee or the spurs. It seemed as if Balsamo wished to convince himself.

The noble steed paced gently onward in obedience to the tacit permission of his master, placing his hoof gently upon the pavement with that light and noiseless step peculiar to his race. During this brief interval, which, to a superficial observer, would have seemed entirely lost, Balsamo was arranging a complete plan of defense. He concluded it just as Djerid entered the streets of Sevres. Arrived opposite the park-gates, he stopped and looked round as if expecting some one. Almost immediately a man emerged from beneath a carriage entrance and advanced toward him.

” Is that you, Fritz ?” asked Balsamo.

“Yes, master ‘

” Have you made inquiries ? “

” Yes.”

” Is Madame Dubarry in Paris or at Luciennes ?”

“She is in Paris.”

Balsamo raised his eyes to heaven with a triumphant look.

” How did you come ? “

” On Sultan.”

“Where is he ?”

” In the courtyard of this inn.”

” Ready saddled ? “

” Quite ready.”

“Very well, be prepared to follow me.”

Fritz hastened to bring out Sultan. He was a horse of that strong, willing German race, who grumble a little at forced marches, but who, nevertheless, go as long they have breath in their lungs, on while there is a spuriat their mas-ter’s heel. Fritz returned to Balsamo, who was writing by the light of a street lantern.

“Return to Paris,” said he, “and manage by some means to give this note to Madame Dubarry in person. You have half an hour for this purpose. After which you will return to the Rue St. Claude, where you will wait for Madame Lorenza, who cannot fail to return soon. You

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will let her pass without any observation and without offering any opposition. Go, and remember, above all, that in half an hour your commission must be executed.”

” It is well,” said Fritz, ” it shall be done.”