Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  “Nothing more simple. The gospel of our Lord—”

  “Of what ‘Lord’ do you speak, Tetrik?”

  “Of our Lord Jesus Christ, the son of God, or rather the incarnate God.”

  “How the times have changed! During his life the young man of Nazareth did not call himself ‘Lord’ — far from it; he called himself the son of God, in the sense that our druid faith teaches us that we are all children of the same God. And in line with the teachings of our druids he declared that our spirit, emancipated of its terrestrial bonds, proceeds to unknown worlds where it animates rejuvenated bodies.”

  “The times have changed — you are right, Victoria. Taken in an absolute sense, the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ would be but a weapon of eternal rebellion in the hands of the poor against the rich, the servant against his lord, the people against their chiefs — it would be the negation of all authority. Creeds on the contrary have the mission to strengthen authority.”

  “I am aware of that. In the days of their primitive barbarism, and before they became the sublimest of men, our druids rendered themselves redoubtable to the ignorant, struck them with terror, and crushed them under their yoke. But the young man of Nazareth smote the atrocious knavery when he indignantly denounced the princes of the church saying: ‘They bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.’ All the more, if he is God, should his words be held sacred. You speak, Tetrik, very much after the fashion of the Pharisees of old, who caused the young man of Nazareth to be crucified.”

  “Those are only sentimental views. Cultured minds, like yours, will understand the true meaning of those bitter criticisms, and the violent attacks of our Lord against the rich, the powerful and the priests of his days. His sermons in favor of community of property, his exaggerated mercifulness towards women of ill fame, the debauched, the prodigals, the vagabonds — in short, his preference for the dregs of the population with which he surrounded himself are not the means of government and authority. The priests and bishops of the new faith alone are able, by means of their sermons, skilfully to turn off the dangerous current of the thought of equality among men, of hatred against the mighty, of dispossessment against the rich, of liberty, of fraternity, of community of goods, of tolerance for the guilty — a fatal current that takes its source in certain passages of the gospel, which vulgar minds wrongfully interpret.”

  “And yet it is in the name of those generous thoughts that so many martyrs have died in the past, and are still sacrificing their lives!”

  “Alas, yes! Jesus our Lord has remained for them the carpenter of Nazareth, who was put to death for having defended the poor, the slaves, the oppressed, the sinners, against those who then enjoyed power; he promised the former the goods of the latter saying that the day would come when ‘the first would be the last.’ It is for that reason that these martyrs preach with unconquerable heroism the doctrines of Jesus, the friend of the poor, the enemy of the mighty. The interests of both the present and the future, accordingly, dictate to you that you accept my offer. I resume: Take me for your husband; embrace the new faith, as I did; have yourself and me proclaimed Emperor and Empress; adopt my son and his posterity. All Gaul will follow our example and become Christians; we shall heap privileges and wealth upon the bishops, and they will consecrate in us the most sovereign and absolute authority ever vested in any emperor or empress!”

  At this point, Victoria’s voice, that until then was calm and collected, broke out indignant and threatening:

  “Tetrik! The compact that you are proposing to me is sacrilegious — infamous! Yesterday I thought you were demented — to-day, when you repeat your proposition and expose to my gaze, even clearer than you did before, the abysmal depths of your infernal soul, I see in you a monster of ambition and of felony! At this hour the past lights up the present before me, and the present lights the future! Blessed be you, Hesus! I was not alone when this plot was unrolled to my ears! You inspired me, Oh, Hesus! I wished to have a witness, who, in case of need, could verify the reality of this monstrous proposal — Victoria herself would not be believed upon her unsupported testimony when she uncovers such dark designs! Come, brother — come, Schanvoch!”

  At Victoria’s call I presented myself, crying:

  “Sister, I no longer say as I once did: ‘I suspect this man!’ To-day I accuse the criminal!”

  “Schanvoch!” answered Tetrik disdainfully, “your accusations are stale. This is not the first time that such silly words have dropped before my contempt—”

  “I formerly only suspected you, Tetrik,” I said determinedly, “of having by your machinations brought on the death of Victorin and his son, who was still in his cradle. To-day I accuse you of that horrible plot. I prefer against you the charge of murder!”

  “Take care!” Tetrik answered pale, somber and with a threatening gesture. “Take care! My power is great — I can annihilate you—”

  “Brother,” Victoria said to me, “your thought is mine — speak without fear — I also have power.”

  “Tetrik,” I proceeded, “I once only suspected you of being at the bottom of Marion’s assassination — to-day I accuse you of that crime also!”

  “Crazy wretch! Where are the proofs of the charges that you have the audacity to hurl at me?”

  “Oh! You are prudent and skilful as well as patient. You break your tools in the dark after having used them—”

  “Those are idle words,” answered Tetrik with icy coolness. “Your proofs, where are they! I laugh at your impotent threats.”

  “The proofs!” cried Victoria. “They are embodied in your sacrilegious propositions. You conceived the project of being the hereditary emperor of Gaul long before Victorin’s death; your proposition of having my grandson acclaimed the heir of his father’s office was a lure meant at once to lead me off the scent of your designs and to furnish the first step of the ladder that you meant to climb.”

  “Victoria, anger is blinding you! What a bungler would I have been — if, indeed, the ambitious object that I pursued was a hereditary throne for myself — to advise you to vest the power in your own stock—”

  “Aye! For one thing, the principle would have been accepted by the army. For another, once hereditary power was established for the future, you would have rid yourself of my son and grandson, in the manner that you did — by assassination. It is all now clear before me. That cursed Bohemian girl was your instrument; she was sent to Mayence in order to seduce my son, in order to drive him with her refusals to the infamous act that the creature demanded as the price of her favors. The crime once committed, my son would either be killed by Schanvoch, who was hastily called back to Mayence that very night, or he would be slain by the army, which received timely notice and was lashed to fury by your emissaries—”

  “Proofs — proofs — Victoria! Proofs!”

  “I have none, yet I state the facts! You managed to have my grandson killed the same night — torn from my arms. My stock is extinguished. Your first step towards empire was marked in blood. You thereupon declined power, and proposed the elevation of Marion. Oh! I admit it! Before that prodigy of infernal cunning, my suspicions, which were for a moment aroused, melted away. Two months after his acclamation as Chief of Gaul, Marion fell under the sword of an execrable assassin, your instrument again—”

  “Proofs!” broke in Tetrik impassibly. “Furnish the proofs!”

  “I have none, yet I state the facts. You remained the only available candidate for the office — Victorin, his son and Marion were killed. Thereupon, I unwittingly became your accomplice. I urged you to accept the government of the country. You triumphed, but only in part; you governed; but, you said it, you were but the first subject of the Mother of the Camps. Oh! I perceive it clearly! The hour has come when my power stands in your way. The army, Gaul, accepted Tetrik for their chief upon my request. It was not they who chose you. With one word I can brea
k you, the same as I raised you to the place that you now are in. Blinded by ambition you judged my heart after your own; you thought me capable of wishing to exchange my influence over the army for the crown of an empress, and of enthroning my stock. You have entered into a dark compact with the Pope and bishops, looking to the eventual brutification and enslavement of this proud Gallic people which freely chooses its chiefs, and remains faithful to the religion of our fathers. Why, centuries ago this people broke the yoke of kingship through the sacred hands of Ritha-Gaur, and yet you now scheme to impose upon it a hated domination by allying your self with the new Church! Very well, I, Victoria, the Mother of the Camps, accuse you before the people in arms of intriguing for the subjugation of Gaul! I accuse you of having denied the faith of our fathers! I accuse you of entering into a secret alliance with the bishops! I accuse you of wishing to usurp the imperial crown and to render it hereditary in your family! I shall bring these charges against you before the people in arms, and shall pronounce you a traitor, a renegade, a murderer, a usurper! I shall demand on the spot that you be tried by the senate, and punished with death for your crimes!”

  The vehemence of the accusations of my foster-sister notwithstanding, Tetrik maintained his habitual composure. For a moment he had dropped the mask and flown at me with threats. Now he was himself again. Raising his hands heavenward, he answered with the most unctuous voice that he could summon:

  “Victoria, I considered the project that I submitted to you advantageous to Gaul — let us drop it. You accuse me; I am ready to answer for my acts before the senate and the army. Should my death, decreed at your instigation, be of any service to my country, I shall not refuse to you the few days of life that are still left to me. I shall await the decision of the senate. Adieu, Victoria. The future will tell which of us two, you or I, understood the country’s interests better, and loved Gaul with the wiser love.”

  Saying this he took a step toward the door. I dashed forward ahead of him, barred his passage and said:

  “You shall not go out! You mean to flee from the punishment that is due to your crimes—”

  Tetrik looked me from head to feet with icy haughtiness, and half turning towards Victoria, said:

  “What! In your house, violence is attempted upon an old man! Upon a relative who comes to you unsuspecting—”

  “I shall respect that which is considered sacred in all countries — hospitality,” answered the Mother of the Camps. “You came to me freely, you shall go out freely.”

  “Sister!” I cried. “Be careful! Your confidence has proved fatal once before—”

  Victoria interrupted me with a gesture, and said bitterly:

  “You are right — my confidence has been fatal to the country; it weighs upon my heart with remorse — but fear not this time.”

  Saying this she rang the bell. Mora entered almost immediately. Her mistress whispered a few words in her ear and the servant quickly went out again.

  “Tetrik,” Victoria proceeded, “I have sent for Captain Paul and several officers. They will come here for you. They will accompany you to your lodging — you shall not leave the place but to appear before your judges.”

  “My judges! Who are to be my judges?”

  “The army will appoint a tribunal — that tribunal will judge you.”

  “I can be tried only by the senate.”

  “If the military tribunal finds you guilty, you will then be sent before the senate; if the military tribunal acquits you, you will be free. Only divine vengeance will then be able to reach you.”

  Mora re-entered the room to inform her mistress that her orders were issued to Captain Paul. Afterwards I remembered, but, alas! too late, that Mora exchanged a few words in a low voice with Tetrik who sat near the door.

  “Schanvoch,” Victoria said to me, “did you hear well the conversation that I had with Tetrik?”

  “Perfectly. I lost not one word.”

  “Transcribe it faithfully.”

  And turning to the Chief of Gaul she said:

  “That will be the indictment that I shall bring against you. It shall be read before the military tribunal that is to sit in judgment upon you.”

  “Victoria,” Tetrik replied calmly, “listen to the advice of an old man, who once was and still is your best friend. It is an easy thing to accuse a man, but to prove his crime is a more difficult affair—”

  “Hold your tongue, detestable hypocrite!” cried Victoria angrily. “Drive me not to extremes—”

  And clasping her hands:

  “Hesus! Give me the strength to be equitable towards this man. Calm down in me, Oh, Hesus! the ebullitions of anger that might unsettle my judgment!”

  Having heard steps behind the door, Mora opened it, and returned to her mistress, saying:

  “Captain Paul has arrived.”

  Victoria made a sign to Tetrik to leave the room. He stepped out heaving a profound sigh and saying in penetrating accents:

  “Lord! Lord! Dissipate the blindness of my enemies! Pardon them, as I pardon them!”

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE VISION OF VICTORIA.

  WHEN THE ROOM was cleared of the presence of Tetrik the Mother of the Camps said to her servant, just as the latter was about to leave close upon the heels of Tetrik:

  “Mora, my breast is afire. Bring me a cup of water with some honey, to cool me and slake my thirst.”

  The servant hurriedly nodded her head and vanished with Tetrik, who lingered for a moment at the threshold.

  “Oh, my brother!” murmured Victoria despondently when we were again alone. “My long struggle with that man has exhausted me — the sight of evil lames my energies — I feel broken—”

  “Want of sleep, excitement, the horror that the sight of Tetrik inspired you with — all this has rendered you feverish. Take a little rest, sister; I shall instantly transcribe your conversation with the man. This very evening justice will be done.”

  “You are right; I think that if I could sleep a while I should feel relieved. Go, brother, but do not leave the house.”

  “Would you like Sampso to keep you company?”

  “No, I prefer to be alone.”

  Mora re-entered. She carried a cup filled with the beverage that her mistress had ordered. The latter took the cup and drained its contents with avidity. Leaving my foster-sister to the care of her servant, I went back to my room in order to reproduce the words of Tetrik accurately. I was just about finishing the task, which took me nearly two hours, when Mora dashed in pale and frightened.

  “Schanvoch!” she cried panting for breath. “Come! Come quick! Drop your writing! Hasten to my mistress!”

  “What is the matter! What has happened?”

  “My mistress. Oh! Woe! Woe! Come quick!”

  “Victoria! Does any danger threaten her?” I cried, hurrying to the apartment of my foster-sister, while Mora followed me, saying:

  “She sent me out of the room — she wanted to be alone. A minute ago I went in — and, woe is me! I saw my poor mistress—”

  “Finish speaking — you saw Victoria—”

  “I saw her lying on her bed — her eyes open — but they were fixed — she seemed dead—”

  I shall never forget the frightful sight that struck my eyes as I stepped into Victoria’s chamber. As Mora said, she lay stretched upon her bed motionless, livid, like a corpse. Her fixed, yet sparkling eyes, seemed to have sunk into their orbits; her features, painfully contracted, were of the cold whiteness of marble. A sinister thought flashed through my mind like lightning — Victoria was dying of poison!

  “Mora!” I cried throwing myself upon my knees beside the couch of the Mother of the Camps. “Send immediately for the druid physician, and run and tell Sampso to come here!”

  The servant rushed out. I took one of Victoria’s hands. It was limp and icy.

  “Sister! It is I!” I cried— “Schanvoch!”

  “Brother,” she murmured.

  As I heard her muffled
, feeble voice, methought the answer proceeded from the bottom of a tomb. A moment later, her eyes, that until then were fixed, turned slowly towards me. The divine intelligence that formerly illumined the beautiful, august and sweet look of my foster-sister seemed extinguished. Nevertheless, by degrees, she recovered consciousness, and said:

  “Is it you — brother? I am dying—”

  Tossing her head painfully from one side to the other as if seeking something, she made an effort to raise her arm; it dropped immediately beside her; she then proceeded to say:

  “See yonder large trunk — open it — you will find in it — a bronze casket — bring it to me—”

  I did as I was bid, and deposited a rather heavy bronze casket near her on the couch. At that moment Sampso, whom Mora notified of Victoria’s condition, came in.