Chapter XIII
THE ORACLE TELLS ME WONDERS
I forgot for a moment how impervious my mask and domino were to the hardstare of the old campaigner, and was preparing for an animated scuffle.It was only for a moment, of course; but the count cautiously drew alittle back as the gasconading corporal, in blue uniform, white vest,and white gaiters--for my friend Gaillarde was as loud and swaggering inhis assumed character as in his real one of a colonel of dragoons--drewnear. He had already twice all but got himself turned out of doors forvaunting the exploits of Napoleon le Grand, in terrific mock-heroics,and had very nearly come to hand-grips with a Prussian hussar. In fact,he would have been involved in several sanguinary rows already, had nothis discretion reminded him that the object of his coming there at all,namely, to arrange a meeting with an affluent widow, on whom he believedhe had made a tender impression, would not have been promoted by hispremature removal from the festive scene of which he was an ornament, incharge of a couple of _gendarmes_.
"Money! Gold! Bah! What money can a wounded soldier like your humbleservant have amassed, with but his sword-hand left, which, beingnecessarily occupied, places not a finger at his command with which toscrape together the spoils of a routed enemy?"
"No gold from him," said the magician. "His scars frank him."
"Bravo, Monsieur le prophete! Bravissimo! Here I am. Shall I begin,_mon sorcier_, without further loss of time, to question you?"
Without waiting for an answer, he commenced, in stentorian tones. Afterhalf-a-dozen questions and answers, he asked: "Whom do I pursue atpresent?"
"Two persons."
"Ha! Two? Well, who are they?"
"An Englishman, whom if you catch, he will kill you; and a French widow,whom if you find, she will spit in your face."
"Monsieur le magicien calls a spade a spade, and knows that his clothprotects him. No matter! Why do I pursue them?"
"The widow has inflicted a wound on your heart, and the Englishman awound on your head. They are each separately too strong for you; takecare your pursuit does not unite them."
"Bah! How could that be?"
"The Englishman protects ladies. He has got that fact into your head.The widow, if she sees, will marry him. It takes some time, she willreflect, to become a colonel, and the Englishman is unquestionablyyoung."
"I will cut his cock's-comb for him," he ejaculated with an oath and agrin; and in a softer tone he asked, "Where is she?"
"Near enough to be offended if you fail."
"So she ought, by my faith. You are right, Monsieur le prophete! Ahundred thousand thanks! Farewell!" And staring about him, andstretching his lank neck as high as he could, he strode away with hisscars, and white waistcoat and gaiters, and his bearskin shako.
I had been trying to see the person who sat in the palanquin. I had onlyonce an opportunity of a tolerably steady peep. What I saw was singular.The oracle was dressed, as I have said, very richly, in the Chinesefashion. He was a figure altogether on a larger scale than theinterpreter, who stood outside. The features seemed to me large andheavy, and the head was carried with a downward inclination! The eyeswere closed, and the chin rested on the breast of his embroideredpelisse. The face seemed fixed, and the very image of apathy. Itscharacter and _pose_ seemed an exaggerated repetition of theimmobility of the figure who communicated with the noisy outer world.This face looked blood-red; but that was caused, I concluded, by thelight entering through the red silk curtains. All this struck me almostat a glance; I had not many seconds in which to make my observation. Theground was now clear, and the Marquis said, "Go forward, my friend."
I did so. When I reached the magician, as we called the man with theblack wand, I glanced over my shoulder to see whether the Count wasnear.
No, he was some yards behind; and he and the Marquis, whose curiosityseemed to be by this time satisfied, were now conversing generally uponsome subject of course quite different.
I was relieved, for the sage seemed to blurt out secrets in anunexpected way; and some of mine might not have amused the Count.
I thought for a moment. I wished to test the prophet. AChurch-of-England man was a _rara avis_ in Paris.
"What is my religion?" I asked.
"A beautiful heresy," answered the oracle instantly.
"A heresy?--and pray how is it named?"
"Love."
"Oh! Then I suppose I am a polytheist, and love a great many?"
"One."
"But, seriously," I asked, intending to turn the course of our colloquya little out of an embarrassing channel, "have I ever learned any wordsof devotion by heart?"
"Yes."
"Can you repeat them?"
"Approach."
I did, and lowered my ear.
The man with the black wand closed the curtains, and whispered, slowlyand distinctly, these words which, I need scarcely tell you, I instantlyrecognized:
_"I may never see you more; and, oh! I that I could forgetyou!--go--farewell--for God's sake, go!"_
I started as I heard them. They were, you know, the last words whisperedto me by the Countess.
"Good Heavens! How miraculous! Words heard most assuredly, by no ear onearth but my own and the lady's who uttered them, till now!"
I looked at the impassive face of the spokesman with the wand. There wasno trace of meaning, or even of a consciousness that the words he haduttered could possibly interest me.
"What do I most long for?" I asked, scarcely knowing what I said.
"Paradise."
"And what prevents my reaching it?"
"A black veil."
Stronger and stronger! The answers seemed to me to indicate the minutestacquaintance with every detail of my little romance, of which not eventhe Marquis knew anything! And I, the questioner, masked and robed sothat my own brother could not have known me!
"You said I loved someone. Am I loved in return?" I asked.
"Try."
I was speaking lower than before, and stood near the dark man with thebeard, to prevent the necessity of his speaking in a loud key.
"Does anyone love me?" I repeated.
"Secretly," was the answer.
"Much or little?" I inquired.
"Too well."
"How long will that love last?"
"Till the rose casts its leaves."
The rose--another allusion!
"Then--darkness!" I sighed. "But till then I live in light."
"The light of violet eyes."
Love, if not a religion, as the oracle had just pronounced it, is, atleast, a superstition. How it exalts the imagination! How it enervatesthe reason! How credulous it makes us!
All this which, in the case of another I should have laughed at, mostpowerfully affected me in my own. It inflamed my ardor, and half crazedmy brain, and even influenced my conduct.
The spokesman of this wonderful trick--if trick it were--now waved mebackward with his wand, and as I withdrew, my eyes still fixed upon thegroup, and this time encircled with an aura of mystery in my fancy;backing toward the ring of spectators, I saw him raise his handsuddenly, with a gesture of command, as a signal to the usher whocarried the golden wand in front.
The usher struck his wand on the ground, and, in a shrill voice,proclaimed: "The great Confu is silent for an hour."
Instantly the bearers pulled down a sort of blind of bamboo, whichdescended with a sharp clatter, and secured it at the bottom; and thenthe man in the tall fez, with the black beard and wand, began a sort ofdervish dance. In this the men with the gold wands joined, and finally,in an outer ring, the bearers, the palanquin being the center of thecircles described by these solemn dancers, whose pace, little by little,quickened, whose gestures grew sudden, strange, frantic, as the motionbecame swifter and swifter, until at length the whirl became so rapidthat the dancers seemed to fly by with the speed of a mill-wheel, andamid a general clapping of hands, and universal wonder, these strangeperformers mingled with the crowd, and the exhibition, for the time atleast,
ended.
The Marquis d'Harmonville was standing not far away, looking on theground, as one could judge by his attitude and musing. I approached, andhe said:
"The Count has just gone away to look for his wife. It is a pity she wasnot here to consult the prophet; it would have been amusing, I daresay,to see how the Count bore it. Suppose we follow him. I have asked him tointroduce you."
With a beating heart, I accompanied the Marquis d'Harmonville.
The Room in the Dragon Volant Page 13