by Eugène Sue
In the depth of this profound silence, the clock in the next room began slowly to strike twelve. Samuel started, and heaved a deep sigh. A few seconds more, and the fatal term would be at an end. Rodin, Father d’Aigrigny, Gabriel, and the notary, were all under the influence of such complete surprise, that not one of them even remarked how strange it was to hear the sound of this clock.
“Noon!” cried Rodin, as, by an involuntary movement, he hastily placed his two hands upon the casket, as if to take possession of it.
“At last!” cried Father d’Aigrigny, with an expression of joy, triumph transport, which it is impossible to describe. Then he added, as he threw himself into Gabriel’s arms, whom he embraced warmly: “Oh, my dear son! how the poor will bless you! You will be a second Vincent de Paul. You will be canonized, I promise you.”
“Let us first thank Providence,” said Rodin, in a grave and solemn tone, as he fell upon his knees, “let us thank Providence, that He has permitted so much wealth to be employed for His glory!”’
Father d’Aigrigny, having again embraced Gabriel, took him by the hand, and said: “Rodin is right. Let us kneel, my dear son, and render thanks to Providence!”
So saying, Father d’Aigrigny knelt down, dragging Gabriel with him, and the latter, confused and giddy with so many precipitate events, yielded mechanically to the impulse. It was the last stroke of twelve when they all rose together.
Then said the notary, in a slightly agitated voice, for there was something extraordinary and solemn in this scene —
“No other heir of M. Marius de Rennepont having presented himself, before noon on this day, I execute the will of the testator, by declaring, in the name of law and justice, that M. Francois Marie Gabriel de Rennepont, here present, is the sole heir and possessor of all the estate, real and personal, bequeathed under the said will; all which estate the said Gabriel de Rennepont, priest, has freely and voluntarily made over by deed of gift to Frederic Emanuel de Bordeville, Marquis d’Aigrigny, priest, who has accepted the same, and is, therefore, the only legal holder of such property, in the room of the said Gabriel de Rennepont, by virtue of the said deed, drawn up and engrossed by me this morning, and signed in my presence by the said Gabriel de Rennepont and Frederic d’Aigrigny.”
At this moment, the sound of loud voices was heard from the garden. Bathsheba entered hastily, and said to her husband with an agitated air: “Samuel — a soldier — who insists—”
She had not time to finish. Dagobert appeared at the door of the Red Room. The soldier was fearfully pale. He seemed almost fainting; his left arm was in a sling, and he leaned upon Agricola. At sight of Dagobert, the pale and flabby eyelids of Rodin were suddenly distended, as if all the blood in his body had flowed towards the head. Then the socius threw himself upon the casket, with the haste of ferocious rage and avidity, as if he were resolved to cover it with his body, and defend it at the peril of his life.
(20) This term is sanctioned by legal usage.
CHAPTER XXV. THE DEED OF GIFT.
FATHER D’AIGRIGNY DID not recognize Dagobert, and had never seen Agricola. He could not therefore, at first explain the kind of angry alarm exhibited by Rodin. But the reverend father understood it all, when he heard Gabriel utter a cry of joy, and saw him rush into the arms of the smith, exclaiming: “My brother! my second father — oh! it is heaven that sends you to me.”
Having pressed Gabriel’s hand, Dagobert advanced towards Father d’Aigrigny, with a rapid but unsteady step. As he remarked the soldier’s threatening countenance, the reverend father, strong in his acquired rights, and feeling that, since noon, he was at home here; drew back a little, and said imperiously to the veteran: “Who are you, sir! — What do you want here?”
Instead of answering, the soldier continued to advance, then, stopping just facing Father d’Aigrigny, he looked at him for a second with such an astounding mixture of curiosity, disdain, aversion, and audacity, that the ex-colonel of hussars quailed before the pale face and glowing eye of the veteran. The notary and Samuel, struck with surprise, remained mute spectators of this scene, while Agricola and Gabriel followed with anxiety Dagobert’s least movements. As for Rodin, he pretended to be leaning on the casket, in order still to cover it with his body.
Surmounting at length the embarrassment caused by the steadfast look of the soldier, Father d’Aigrigny raised his head, and repeated. “I ask you, sir, who you are, and what you want?”
“Do you not recognize me?” said Dagobert, hardly able to restrain himself.
“No, sir—”
“In truth,” returned the soldier, with profound contempt, “You cast down your eyes for shame when, at Leipsic, you fought for the Russians against the French, and when General Simon, covered with wounds, answered you, renegade that you were, when you asked him for his sword, ‘I do not surrender to a traitor!’ — and dragged himself along to one of the Russian grenadiers, to whom he yielded up his weapon. Well! there was then a wounded soldier by the side of General Simon — I am he.”
“In brief, sir, what do you want?” said Father d’Aigrigny, hardly, able to control himself.
“I have come to unmask you — you, that are as false and hateful a priest, as Gabriel is admirable and beloved by all.”
“Sir!” cried the marquis, becoming livid with rage and emotion.
“I tell you, that you are infamous,” resumed the soldier, with still greater force. “To rob Marshal Simon’s daughters, and Gabriel, and Mdlle. de Cardoville of their inheritance, you have had recourse to the most shameful means.”
“What do you say?” cried Gabriel. “The daughters of Marshal Simon?”
“Are your relations, my dear boy, as is also that worthy Mdlle. de Cardoville, the benefactress of Agricola. Now, this priest,” he added, pointing to Father d’Aigrigny, “has had them shut up — the one as mad, in a lunatic asylum — the others in a convent. As for you, my dear boy, I did not hope to find you here, believing that they would have prevented you, like the others, from coming hither this morning. But, thank God, you are here, and I arrive in time. I should have been sooner, but for my wound. I have lost so much blood, that I have done nothing but faint all the morning.”
“Truly!” cried Gabriel, with uneasiness. “I had not remarked your arm in a sling. What is the wound?”
At a sign from Agricola, Dagobert answered: “Nothing; the consequence of a fall. But here I am, to unveil many infamies.”
It is impossible to paint the curiosity, anguish, surprise, or fear, of the different actors in this scene, as they listened to Dagobert’s threatening words. But the most overcome was Gabriel. His angelic countenance was distorted, his knees trembled under him. Struck by the communication of Dagobert which revealed the existence of other heirs, he was unable to speak for some time; at length, he cried out, in a tone of despair: “And it is I — oh, God! I — who am the cause of the spoliation of this family!”
“You, brother?” exclaimed Agricola.
“Did they not wish to rob you also?” added Dagobert.
“The will,” cried Gabriel, with increasing agony, “gave the property to those of the heirs that should appear before noon.”
“Well?” said Dagobert, alarmed at the emotion of the young priest.
“Twelve o’clock has struck,” resumed the latter. “Of all the family, I alone was present. Do you understand it now? The term is expired. The heirs have been thrust aside by me!”
“By you!” said Dagobert, stammering with joy. “By you, my brave boy! then all is well.”
“But—”
“All is well,” resumed Dagobert, radiant with delight. “You will share with the others — I know you.”
“But all this property I have irrevocably, made over to another,” cried Gabriel, in despair.
“Made over the property!” cried Dagobert, quite petrified. “To whom, then? — to whom?”
“To this gentleman,” said Gabriel, pointing to Father d’Aigrigny.
“T
o him!” exclaimed Dagobert, overwhelmed by the news; “to him — the renegade — who has always been the evil genius of this family!”
“But, brother,” cried Agricola, “did you then know your claim to this inheritance?”
“No,” answered the young priest, with deep dejection; “no — I only learned it this morning, from Father d’Aigrigny. He told me, that he had only recently been informed of my rights, by family papers long ago found upon me, and sent by our mother to her confessor.”
A sudden light seemed to dawn upon the mind of the smith, as he exclaimed: “I understand it all now. They discovered in these papers, that you would one day have a chance of becoming rich. Therefore, they interested themselves about you — therefore, they took you into their college, where we could never see you — therefore, they deceived you in your vocation by shameful falsehoods, to force you to become a priest, and to lead you to make this deed of gift. Oh, sir!” resumed Agricola, turning towards Father d’Aigrigny, with indignation, “my father is right — such machinations are indeed infamous!”
During this scene, the reverend father and his socius, at first alarmed and shaken in their audacity, had by degrees recovered all their coolness. Rodin, still leaning upon the casket, had said a few words in a low voice to Father d’Aigrigny. So that when Agricola, carried away by his indignation, reproached the latter with his infamous machinations, he bowed his head humbly, and answered: “We are bound to forgive injuries, and offer them to the Lord as a mark of our humility.”
Dagobert, confounded at all he had just heard, felt his reason begin to wander. After so much anxiety, his strength failed beneath this new and terrible blow. Agricola’s just and sensible words, in connection with certain passages of the testament, at once enlightened Gabriel as to the views of Father d’Aigrigny, in taking charge of his education, and leading him to join the Society of Jesus. For the first time in his life, Gabriel was able to take in at a glance all the secret springs of the dark intrigue, of which he had been the victim. Then, indignation and despair surmounting his natural timidity, the missionary, with flashing eye, and cheeks inflamed with noble wrath, exclaimed, as he addressed Father d’Aigrigny: “So, father, when you placed me in one of your colleges, it was not from any feeling of kindness or commiseration, but only in the hope of bringing me one day to renounce in favor of your Order my share in this inheritance; and it did not even suffice you to sacrifice me to your cupidity, but I must also be rendered the involuntary instrument of a shameful spoliation! If only I were concerned — if you only coveted my claim to all this wealth, I should not complain. I am the minister of a religion which honors and sanctifies poverty; I have consented to the donation in your favor, and I have not, I could never have any claim upon it. But property is concerned which belong to poor orphans, brought from a distant exile by my adopted father, and I will not see them wronged. But the benefactress of my adopted brother is concerned, and I will not see her wronged. But the last will of a dying man is concerned, who, in his ardent love of humanity, bequeathed to his descendants an evangelic mission — an admirable mission of progress, love, union, liberty — and I will not see this mission blighted in its bud. No, no; I tell you, that this his mission shall be accomplished, though I have to cancel the donation I have made.”
On these words, Father d’Aigrigny and Rodin looked at each other with a slight shrug of the shoulders. At a sign from the socius, the reverend father began to speak with immovable calmness, in a slow and sanctified voice, keeping eyes constantly cast down: “There are many incidents connected with this inheritance of M. de Rennepont, which appear very complicated — many phantoms, which seem un usually menacing — and yet, nothing could be really more simple and natural. Let us proceed in regular order. Let us put aside all these calumnious imputations; we will return to them afterwards. M. Gabriel de Rennepont — and I humbly beg him to contradict me, if I depart in the least instance from the exact truth — M. Gabriel de Rennepont, in acknowledgment of the care formerly bestowed on him by the society to which I have the honor to belong, made over to me, as its representative, freely and voluntarily, all the property that might come to him one day, the value of which was unknown to him, as well as to myself.”
Father d’Aigrigny here looked at Gabriel, as if appealing to him for the truth of this statement.
“It is true,” said the young priest: “I made this donation freely.”
“This morning, in consequence of a private conversation, which I will not repeat — and in this, I am certain beforehand, of the Abbe Gabriel—”
“True,” replied Gabriel, generously; “the subject of this conversation is of little importance.”
“It was then, in consequence of this conversation that the Abbe Gabriel manifested the desire to confirm this donation — not in my favor, for I have little to do with earthly wealth — but in favor of the sacred and charitable works of which our Company is the trustee. I appeal to the honor of M. Gabriel to declare if he have not engaged himself towards us, not only by a solemn oath, but by a perfectly legal act, executed in presence of M. Dumesnil, here present?”
“It is all true,” answered Gabriel.
“The deed was prepared by me,” added the notary.
“But Gabriel could only give you what belonged to him,” cried Dagobert. “The dear boy never supposed that you were making use of him to rob other people.”
“Do me the favor, sir, to allow me to explain myself,” replied Father d’Aigrigny, courteously; “you can afterwards make answer.”
Dagobert repressed with difficulty his painful impatience. The reverend father continued: “The Abbe Gabriel has therefore, by the double engagement of an oath and a legal act, confirmed his donation. Much more,” resumed Father d’Aigrigny: “when to his great astonishment and to ours, the enormous amount of the inheritance became known, the Abbe Gabriel, faithful to his own admirable generosity, far from repenting of his gifts, consecrated them once more by a pious movement of gratitude to Providence — for M. Notary will doubtless remember, that, after embracing the Abbe Gabriel with transport, and telling him that he was a second Vincent de Paul in charity, I took him by the hand, and we both knelt down together to thank heaven for having inspired him with the thought too offer these immense riches to the Greater Glory of the Lord.”
“That is true, also,” said Gabriel, honestly; “so long as myself was concerned, though I might be astounded for a moment by the revelation of so enormous a fortune, I did not think for an instant of cancelling the donation I had freely made.”
“Under these circumstances,” resumed Father d’Aigrigny, “the hour fixed for the settlement of the inheritance having struck, and Abbe Gabriel being the only heir that presented himself, he became necessarily the only legitimate possessor of this immense wealth — enormous, no doubt — and charity makes me rejoice that it is enormous, for, thanks to it, many miseries will be relieved and many tears wiped away. But, all on a sudden, here comes this gentleman,” said Father d’Aigrigny, pointing to Dagobert; “and, under some delusion, which I forgive from the bottom of my soul, and which I am sure he will himself regret, accuses me, with insults and threats, with having carried off (I know not where) some persons (I know not whom), in order to prevent their being here at the proper time—”
“Yes, I accuse you of this infamy!” cried the soldier exasperated by the calmness and audacity of the reverend father: “yes — and I will—”
“Once again, sir, I conjure you to be so good as to let me finish; you can reply afterwards,” said Father d’Aigrigny, humbly, in the softest and most honeyed accents.
“Yes, I will reply, and confound you!” cried Dagobert.
“Let him finish, father. You can speak presently,” said Agricola.
The soldier was silent as Father d’Aigrigny continued with new assurance: “Doubtless, if there should really be any other heirs, besides the Abbe Gabriel, it is unfortunate for them that they have not appeared in proper time. And if, instead of defe
nding the cause of the poor and needy, I had only to look to my own interest, I should be far from availing myself of this advantage, due only to chance; but, as a trustee for the great family of the poor, I am obliged to maintain my absolute right to this inheritance; and I do not doubt that M. Notary will acknowledge the validity of my claim, and deliver to me these securities, which are now my legitimate property.”
“My only mission,” replied the notary, in an agitated voice, “is faithfully to execute the will of the testator. The Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont alone presented himself, within the term fixed by the testament. The deed of gift is in due form; I cannot refuse, therefore, to deliver to the person named in the deed the amount of the heritage—”
On these words Samuel hid his face in his hands, and heaved a deep sigh; he was obliged to acknowledge the rigorous justice of the notary’s observations.
“But, sir,” cried Dagobert, addressing the man of law, “this cannot be. You will not allow two poor orphans to be despoiled. It is in the name of their father and mother that I speak to you. I give you my honor — the honor of a soldier! — that they took advantage of the weakness of my wife to carry the daughters of Marshal Simon to a convent, and thus prevent me bringing them here this morning. It is so true, that I have already laid my charge before a magistrate.”