Memoirs of a Physician (67 page)

Then a heartrending thought a thought which, it will be remembered, had already stung his heart chased away all the suppositions, all the hopes of the happy lover.

Lorenza had been playing a part; she must have feigned to sleep in order to banish all distrust, all uneasiness, all watchfulness from her husband’s mind ; and at the first opportunity had fled again, this time with surer precautions, warned as she had been by a first, or rather by two former experiences.

At this idea Balsamo started up and rang for Fritz.

Then as Fritz, to his impatient mind, seemed to delay, he hastened to meet him and found him on the secret stair-

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” The signora ? ” said he.

‘ Well, master ? ” said Fritz, seeing by Balsamo’s agitation that something extraordinary had taken place.

” Have you seen her ? “

“No, master.”

” She has not gone ? “

” From where ? “

” From this house, to be sure ! “

11 No one has left the house but the countess, behind whom I have just closed th3 gate.”

Balsamo rushed up the stairs again like a madman. Then he fancied that the giddy young creature, so different in her sleep from what she was when waking, had concealed herself in a moment of childish playfulness ; that from the corner where she was hid she was now reading his heart, and amusing herself by terrifying him, in order to reassure him afterward. Then he recommenced a minute search.

Not a nook was omitted, not a cupboard forgotten, not a screen left in its proper place. There was something in this search of Balsamo’s like the frantic efforts of a man blinded by passion, alternating with the feeble and tottering gait of a drunkard. He could then only stretch out his arms and cry, ” Lorenza ! Lorenza ! ” hoping that the adored creature yould rush forth suddenly and throw herself into his arms with an exclamation of joy.

But silence alone, a gloomy and uninterrupted silence, replied to his extravagant thoughts and mad appeals.

In running wildly about, dashing aside the furniture, shouting to the naked walls, calling Lorenza, staring without seeing any objector forming a single coherent thought, Balsarao passed three minutes, that is to say, three centuries, of agony.

He recovered by degrees from this half-insane hallucination, dipped his hand in a vase of iced water, moistened his temples, and pressing one hand in the other, as if to force himself to be cool, he chased back, by his iron will, the blood which was beating wildly against his brain, with that fatal, incessant, monotonous movement which indi-MEMOIRS OF A PHYSICIAN. 501

cates life when there is merely motion and silence, but which is a sign of death or madness when it becomes tumultuous and perceptible.

” Come,” said he, ” let me reason : Lorenza is not here ; no more false pretenses with myself ; Lorenza is not here, she must be gone. Yes, gone, quite gone ! “

And he looked around once more, and once more shouted her name.

” Gone ! ” continued he ; ” in vain Fritz asserts that he has not seen her. She is gone gone !

” Two cases present themselves :

” Either he has not seen Lorenza, and after all, that is possible, for a man is liable to error, or he has seen her, and has been bribed by her.

” Fritz bribed !

” Why not ? In vain does his past fidelity plead against this supposition. If Lorenza, if love, if science could so deeply deceive and lie, why should the frail nature of a fallible human being not deceive also ?

” Oh ! I will know all, I will know all ! Is there not Mademoiselle de Taverney left ? Yes, through Andre I shall know if Fritz has betrayed me, if Lorenza is false ; and this time oh ! this time, as love has proved false, as science has proved an error, as fidelity has become a snare oh ! this time Balsamo will punish without pity, without sparing, like a strong man who revenges himself, who chases pity from his heart, and keeps only pride.

” Let me see : the first step is to leave this as quickly as possible, not to let Fritz suspect anything, and to fly to Trianon.”

And Balsamo, seizing his hat, which had rolled on the ground, rushed toward the door.

But all at once he stopped.

” Oh ! ” said he, ” before anything else (rny God ! poor old man, I had forgotten him), I must see Althotas. Dur-ing my delirium, during the spasm of forced and unnatural love, I have neglected the unfortunate old man, I have been ungrateful and inhuman ! “

And with the feverishuess which now animated all his

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movements, Balsamo approached the spring which put in motion the trap in the ceiling, and the movable scaffold quickly descended.

Balsamo placed himself npon it, and, aided by the counterpoise, mounted again still overwhelmed by the anguish of his mind and heart, and without thinking of anything but Lorenza. Scarcely had he attained the level of the floor when the voice of Althotas struck upon his ear and roused him from his gloomy reverie.

But to Balsamo’s great astonishment, the old man’s first words were not reproaches, as he had expected he was received with an outburst of simple and natural gayety.

The pupil looked with an astonished gaze upon his master.

The old man was reclining upon his spring chair. He breathed noisily and with delight, as if at each inspiration he added a day to his life ; his eyes, full of a gloomy fire, but the expression of which was enlivened by a smile upon his lips, were fixed eagerly upon his visitor.

Balsamo summoned up all his strength, and collected his ideas, in order to conceal his grief from his master, who had so little indulgence for human weaknesses.

During this moment of reflection, Balsamo felt a strange oppression weigh upon his breast. No doubt the air was vitiated by being too constantly breathed, for a heavy, dull, close, nauseous odor, like the one he had already felt below, but there in a slighter degree, floated in the air, and like the vapors which rise from lakes and marshes, in autumn at sunrise and sunset, had taken a shape and rested on the windows.

In this dense and acrid atmosphere, Balsamo’s heart throbbed, his head felt confused, a vertigo seized upon him, and he felt that respiration and strength were fast failing him.

” Master,” said he, seeking some object on which to support himself, and endeavoring to dilate his lungs, ” master, you -cannot live here ; there is no air.”

“You think so?”

“Oh!”

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” Nevertheless, I breathe very well in it ! ” replied Althotas, gayly, ” and I live, as you see.”

” Master, master ! ” replied Balsamo, growing more and more giddy, ” let me open a window ; see ! it rises from the floor like an exhalation of blood. “

“Of blood! ah! you think so? Of blood?” cried Althotas, bursting into a laugh.

“Oli ! yes; yes, I feel the miasma which is exhaled from a newly killed body. I could weigh it, so heavily does it press upon my brain and heart.”

” That is it,” said Althotas, with his sardonic laugh ; ” that is it. I also perceive it. You have a tender heart and a weak brain, Acharat.”

” Master,” said Balsamo, pointing with his finger at the old man, ” master, you have blood upon your hands ; master, there is blood upon this table ; there is blood everywhere, even in your eyes, which shine like two torches ; master, the smell which I breathe, and which makes me giddy, which is suffocating me, is the smell of blood ! “

“Well, what then ? ” said Althotas, quickly ; “is this the first time in your life that you have smelled it ? “

” No.”

” Have you never seen me make experiments ? Have you never made any yourself ? “

“But human blood !” said Balsamo, pressing his hand upon his burning forehead.

” Ah ! you have a subtle sense of smell,” said Althotas. ” Well, I did not think human blood could be distinguished from that of any other animal.”

“Human blood !” muttered Balsamo.

And as he reeled backward, and felt for some projecting point to support him, he perceived with horror a vast copper basin, the shining sides of which reflected the pur-ple color of the freshly spilled blood.

The enormous vase was half filled.

Balsamo started back terrified.

” Oh, this blood 1 ” exclaimed he ; ” whence comes this blood ? “

Althotas made no reply, but his watchful glance lost

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none of the feverish fluctuations and wild terror of Balsamo. Suddenly the latter uttered a fearful groan.

Then, stooping like some wild beast darting upon its prey, he rushed to a corner of the room, and picked up from the floor a silken ribbon embroidered with silver, to which was hanging a long tress of black hair.

After this wild, mournful, terrible cry, a deathlike silence reigned for a moment in the old man’s apartment. Balsamo slowly raised the ribbon, shuddered as he examined the tresses, which a golden pin fastened to the silk at one end, while, cut off sharply at the other, they seemed like a fringe, the extremity of which had been dipped in a wave of blood, the red and sparkling drops of which were still apparent on the margin.

In proportion as Balsamo raised his hand, it trembled still more.

” Whence does this come ? ” murmured he, in a hollow voice, loud enough, however, for another to hear and reply to his question.

“That ?” asked Althotas.

“Yes, that.”

” Well ! it is a silken ribbon tying some hair.”

” But the hair in what is it steeped ?”

” You can see in blood.”

” In what blood ? “

” Parbleu ! in the blood I wanted for my elixir in the blood which you refused me, and which, therefore, I was forced to procure for myself.”

” But this hair, these tresses, this ribbon from whom did you take them ? This is not a child’s hair.”

” And who told you it was a child I had killed ? ” asked Althotas, quietly.

” Did you not want the blood of a child for your elixir ?” said Balsamo. “Did you not tell me so ?”

” Or of an unmarried female, Acharat or of an unmarried female.”

Vnd Althotas stretched his long bony hand from the chair, and took a vial, the contents of which he tasted with delight.

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Then, in his most natural tone, and with his most affectionate smile :

” I have to thank yon, Acharat,” said he ; “you were wise and far-sighted in placing that woman beneath my trap, almost within reach of my hand. Humanity has no cause for complaint. The law has nothing to lay hold upon. He ! he ! it was not you who gave me the young creature without whom I should have perished ! No ! I took her. He ! he ! thanks, my dear pupil ! thanks, my dear Acharat ! “

And he once more put the vial to his lips.

Balsamo let fall the tress of hair which he held ; a dreadful light flashed across his mind.

Opposite to him was the old man’s table a large marble slab always heaped with plants, books, and vials. This table was covered with a long cloth of white damask with dark flowers, on which the lamp of Althotas shed a reddish light, and which displayed an ominous outline which Balsamo had not before remarked.

He seized a corner of the cloth and hastily pulled it away.

But instantly his hair stood on end his gaping mouth could not utter the horrible cry which almost suffocated him.

Under this shroud he had perceived Lorenza’s corpse stretched upon this table, her face livid and yet smiling, and her head hanging backward as if dragged down by the weight of her long hair.

A large wound gaped underneath the collar-bone, from which not a single drop of blood escaped. Her hands were rigid, and her eyes closed beneath their purple eyelids.

” Yes, blood ! the last three drops of an unmarried woman’s blood, that is what I wanted,” said the old man, putting the vial to his lips for the third time.

” Wretch ! ” thundered Balsamo, whose cry of despair at last burst from each pore, “die, then ! for she was my wife my wedded wife ! You have murdered her in vain ! Die in your sin ! ” 22 DUMAS VOL. VII.

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The eyes of Althotas quivered at these words, as if an electric shock had made them dance in their orbits ; his pupils were fearfully dilated, his toothless gums chattered, the vial fell from his hand upon the floor, and broke into a thousand pieces, while he stupefied, annihilated, struck at once in heart and brain fell back heavily upon his chair.

Balsamo bent with a sob over Lorenza’s body, and pressing his lips to her blood-stained hair, sunk senseless on the ground.

CHAPTER LXIV.

DESPAIR.

THE Hours, those mysterious sisters who cleave the air hand in hand with a flight so slow for the wretched, so rapid for the happy, paused in their onward motion^ folding their heavy wings over this chamber loaded with sighs and groans.

Death on one side, agony on the other, and between them despair grievous as agony, deep as death.

Balsamo had not uttered a word since the terrible cry which had been wrung from his breast.

Since the terrible revelation which had cast down the ferocious joy of Althotas, Balsamo had not moved.

As for the hideous old man, thus violently thrown back into life, such as God grants it to man, he seemed as much bewildered in this new element as the bird struck by a leaden bullet and fallen from the skies into a lake on whose surface it flutters, unable to employ its wings.

The horror expressed in his pale and agonized features revealed the immeasurable extent of his disappointment.

In fact, Althotas no longer even took the trouble to think, since he had seen the goal at which his spirit aimed, and which it thought firm as a rock, vanish like empty vapor.

His deep and silent despair seemed almost like insensibility. To a mind unaccustomed to measure his, it might

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have seemed an indication of reflection ; to Balsamo’s, who, ever who, did not even look upon him, it marked the death-agony of power, of reason, and of life.

Althotas never took his eyes from the broken vial, the image of the nothingness of his hopes. One would have said he counted the thousand scattered fragments, which, in falling, had diminished his life by so many days. One would have said he wished to drink in with his look the precious fluid which was spilled upon the floor, and which, for a moment, he had believed to be immortality.