Le Juif errant. English

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER XXII. THE AMBUSCADE

  The half-blood Faringhea, wishing doubtless to escape from the darkthoughts which the words of the Indian on the mysterious course ofthe Cholera had raised within him, abruptly changed the subject ofconversation. His eye shone with lurid fire, and his countenance took anexpression of savage enthusiasm, as he cried: "Bowanee will always watchover us, intrepid hunters of men! Courage, brothers, courage! The worldis large; our prey is everywhere. The English may force us to quitIndia, three chiefs of the good work--but what matter? We leave thereour brethren, secret, numerous, and terrible, as black scorpions, whosepresence is only known by their mortal sting. Exiles will widen ourdomains. Brother, you shall have America!" said he to the Hindoo, withan inspired air. "Brother, you shall have Africa!" said he to the negro."Brothers, I will take Europe! Wherever men are to be found, there mustbe oppressors and victims--wherever there are victims, there must behearts swollen with hate--it is for us to inflame that hate with all theardor of vengeance! It is for us, servants of Bowanee, to draw towardsus, by seducing wiles, all whose zeal, courage, and audacity may beuseful to the cause. Let us rival each other in devotion and sacrifices;let us lend each other strength, help, support! That all who are notwith us may be our prey, let us stand alone in the midst of all, againstall, and in spite of all. For us, there must be neither country norfamily. Our family is composed of our brethren; our country is theworld."

  This kind of savage eloquence made a deep impression on the negroand the Indian, over whom Faringhea generally exercised considerableinfluence, his intellectual powers being very superior to theirs, thoughthey were themselves two of the most eminent chiefs of this bloodyassociation. "Yes, you are right, brother!" cried the Indian, sharingthe enthusiasm of Faringhea; "the world is ours. Even here, in Java, letus leave some trace of our passage. Before we depart, let us establishthe good work in this island; it will increase quickly, for here alsois great misery, and the Dutch are rapacious as the English. Brother,I have seen in the marshy rice-fields of this island, always fatal tothose who cultivate them, men whom absolute want forced to the deadlytask--they were livid as corpses--some of them worn out with sickness,fatigue, and hunger, fell--never to rise again. Brothers, the good workwill prosper in this country!"

  "The other evening," said the half-caste, "I was on the banks of thelake, behind a rock; a young woman came there--a few rags hardly coveredher lean and sun-scorched body--in her arms she held a little child,which she pressed weeping to her milkless breast. She kissed it threetimes, and said to it: 'You, at least, shall not be so unhappy asyour father'--and she threw it into the lake. It uttered one wail, anddisappeared. On this cry, the alligators, hidden amongst the reeds,leaped joyfully into the water. There are mothers here who kill theirchildren out of pity.--Brothers, the good work will prosper in thiscountry!"

  "This morning," said the negro, "whilst they tore the flesh of one ofhis black slaves with whips, a withered old merchant of Batavia lefthis country-house to come to the town. Lolling in his palanquin, hereceived, with languid indolence, the sad caresses of two of thosegirls, whom he had bought, to people his harem, from parents too poor togive them food. The palanquin, which held this little old man, and thegirls, was carried by twelve young and robust men. There are here, yousee, mothers who in their misery sell their own daughters--slavesthat are scourged--men that carry other men, like beasts ofburden.--Brothers, the good work will prosper in this country!"

  "Yes, in this country--and in every land of oppression, distress,corruption, and slavery."

  "Could we but induce Djalma to join us, as Mahal the Smuggler advised,"said the Indian, "our voyage to Java would doubly profit us; for weshould then number among our band this brave and enterprising youth, whohas so many motives to hate mankind."

  "He will soon be here; let us envenom his resentments."

  "Remind him of his father's death!"

  "Of the massacre of his people!"

  "His own captivity!"

  "Only let hatred inflame his heart, and he will be ours."

  The negro, who had remained for some time lost in thought, saidsuddenly: "Brothers, suppose Mahal the Smuggler were to betray us?"

  "He" cried the Hindoo, almost with indignation; "he gave us an asylum onboard his bark; he secured our flight from the Continent; he is againto take us with him to Bombay, where we shall find vessels for America,Europe, Africa."

  "What interest would Mahal have to betray us?" said Faringhea. "Nothingcould save him from the vengeance of the sons of Bowanee, and that heknows."

  "Well," said the black, "he promised to get Djalma to come hither thisevening, and, once amongst us, he must needs be our own."

  "Was it not the Smuggler who told us to order the Malay to enter theajoupa of Djalma, to surprise him during his sleep, and, instead ofkilling him as he might have done, to trace the name of Bowanee upon hisarm? Djalma will thus learn to judge of the resolution, the cunning andobedience of our brethren, and he will understand what he has to hope orfear from such men. Be it through admiration or through terror, he mustbecome one of us."

  "But if he refuses to join us, notwithstanding the reasons he has tohate mankind?"

  "Then--Bowanee will decide his fate," said Faringhea, with a gloomylook; "I have my plan."

  "But will the Malay succeed in surprising Djalma during his sleep?" saidthe negro.

  "There is none nobler, more agile, more dexterous, than the Malay,"said Faringhea. "He once had the daring to surprise in her den a blackpanther, as she suckled her cub. He killed the dam, and took away theyoung one, which he afterwards sold to some European ship's captain."

  "The Malay has succeeded!" exclaimed the Indian, listening to a singularkind of hoot, which sounded through the profound silence of the nightand of the woods.

  "Yes, it is the scream of the vulture seizing its prey," said the negro,listening in his turn; "it is also the signal of our brethren, afterthey have seized their prey."

  In a few minutes, the Malay appeared at the door of the hut. He hadwound around him a broad length of cotton, adorned with bright coloredstripes.

  "Well," said the negro, anxiously; "have you succeeded?"

  "Djalma must bear all his life the mark of the good work," said theMalay, proudly. "To reach him, I was forced to offer up to Bowanee a manwho crossed my path--I have left his body under the brambles, near theajoupa. But Djalma is marked with the sign. Mahal the Smuggler was thefirst to know it."

  "And Djalma did not awake?" said the Indian, confounded by the Malay'sadroitness.

  "Had he awoke," replied the other, calmly, "I should have been a deadman--as I was charged to spare his life."

  "Because his life may be more useful to us than his death," said thehalf-caste. Then, addressing the Malay, he added: "Brother, in riskinglife for the good work, you have done to-day what we did yesterday,what we may do again to-morrow. This time, you obey; another you willcommand."

  "We all belong to Bowanee," answered the Malay. "What is there yet todo?--I am ready." Whilst he thus spoke, his face was turned towards thedoor of the hut; on a sudden, he said in a low voice: "Here is Djalma.He approaches the cabin. Mahal has not deceived us."

  "He must not see me yet," said Faringhea, retiring to an obscure cornerof the cabin, and hiding himself under a mat; "try to persuade him. Ifhe resists--I have my project."

  Hardly had Faringhea disappeared, saying these words, when Djalmaarrived at the door of the hovel. At sight of those three personageswith their forbidding aspect, Djalma started in surprise. But ignorantthat these men belonged to the Phansegars, and knowing that, in acountry where there are no inns, travellers often pass the night undera tent, or beneath the shelter of some ruins, he continued to advancetowards them. After the first moment, he perceived by the complexion andthe dress of one of these men, that he was an Indian, and he accostedhim in the Hindoo language: "I thought to have found here a European--aFrenchman--"

  "The Frenchman is not yet come," replied the Indian; "but he w
ill not belong."

  Guessing by Djalma's question the means which Mahal had employed todraw him into the snare, the Indian hoped to gain time by prolonging hiserror.

  "You knew this Frenchman?" asked Djalma of the Phansegar.

  "He appointed us to meet here, as he did you," answered the Indian.

  "For what?" inquired Djalma, more and more astonished.

  "You will know when he arrives."

  "General Simon told you to be at this place?"

  "Yes, General Simon," replied the Indian.

  There was a moment's pause, during which Djalma sought in vain toexplain to himself this mysterious adventure. "And who are you?" askedhe, with a look of suspicion; for the gloomy silence of the Phansegar'stwo companions, who stared fixedly at each other, began to give him someuneasiness.

  "We are yours, if you will be ours," answered the Indian.

  "I have no need of you--nor you of me."

  "Who knows?"

  "I know it."

  "You are deceived. The English killed your father, a king; made you acaptive; proscribed you, you have lost all your possessions."

  At this cruel reminder, the countenance of Djalma darkened. He started,and a bitter smile curled his lip. The Phansegar continued:

  "Your father was just and brave--beloved by his subjects--they calledhim 'Father of the Generous,' and he was well named. Will you leave hisdeath unavenged? Will the hate, which gnaws at your heart, be withoutfruit?"

  "My father died with arms in his hand. I revenged his death on theEnglish whom I killed in war. He, who has since been a father to me, andwho fought also in the same cause, told me, that it would now be madnessto attempt to recover my territory from the English. When they gave memy liberty, I swore never again to set foot in India--and I keep theoaths I make."

  "Those who despoiled you, who took you captive, who killed yourfather--were men. Are there not other men, on whom you can avengeyourself! Let your hate fall upon them!"

  "You, who speak thus of men, are not a man!"

  "I, and those who resemble me, are more than men. We are, to the rest ofthe human race, what the bold hunter is to the wild beasts, which theyrun down in the forest. Will you be, like us, more than a man? Will youglut surely, largely, safely--the hate which devours your heart, for allthe evil done you?"

  "Your words become more and more obscure: I have no hatred in my heart,"said Djalma. "When an enemy is worthy of me, I fight with him; when heis unworthy, I despise him. So that I have no hate--either for brave menor cowards."

  "Treachery!" cried the negro on a sudden, pointing with rapid gesture tothe door, for Djalma and the Indian had now withdrawn a little from it,and were standing in one corner of the hovel.

  At the shout of the negro, Faringhea, who had not been perceived byDjalma, threw off abruptly the mat which covered him, drew his crease,started up like a tiger, and with one bound was out of the cabin. Then,seeing a body of soldiers advancing cautiously in a circle, he dealt oneof them a mortal stroke, threw down two others, and disappeared inthe midst of the ruins. All this passed so instantaneously, that, whenDjalma turned round, to ascertain the cause of the negro's cry of alarm,Faringhea had already disappeared.

  The muskets of several soldiers, crowding to the door, were immediatelypointed at Djalma and the three Stranglers, whilst others went inpursuit of Faringhea. The negro, the Malay, and the Indian, seeing theimpossibility of resistance, exchanged a few rapid words, and offeredtheir hands to the cords, with which some of the soldiers had providedthemselves.

  The Dutch captain, who commanded the squad, entered the cabin at thismoment. "And this other one?" said he, pointing out Djalma to thesoldiers, who were occupied in binding the three Phansegars.

  "Each in his turn, captain!" said an old sergeant. "We come to himnext."

  Djalma had remained petrified with surprise, not understanding whatwas passing round him; but, when he saw the sergeant and two soldiersapproach with ropes to bind him, he repulsed them with violentindignation, and rushed towards the door where stood the officer. Thesoldiers, who had supposed that Djalma would submit to his fate with thesame impassibility as his companions, were astounded by this resistance,and recoiled some paces, being struck in spite of themselves, with thenoble and dignified air of the son of Kadja-sing.

  "Why would you bind me like these men?" cried Djalma, addressing himselfin Hindostanee to the officer, who understood that language from hislong service in the Dutch colonies.

  "Why would we bind you, wretch?--because you form part of this band ofassassins. What?" added the officer in Dutch, speaking to the soldiers,"are you afraid of him?--Tie the cord tight about his wrists; there willsoon be another about his neck."

  "You are mistaken," said Djalma, with a dignity and calmness whichastonished the officer; "I have hardly been in this place a quarter ofan hour--I do not know these men. I came here to meet a Frenchman."

  "Not a Phansegar like them?--Who will believe the falsehood?"

  "Them!" cried Djalma, with so natural a movement and expression ofhorror, that with a sign the officer stopped the soldiers, who wereagain advancing to bind the son of Kadja-sing; "these men form partof that horrible band of murderers! and you accuse me of being theiraccomplice!--Oh, in this case, sir! I am perfectly at ease," said theyoung man, with a smile of disdain.

  "It will not be sufficient to say that you are tranquil," replied theofficer; "thanks to their confessions, we now know by what mysterioussigns to recognize the Thugs."

  "I repeat, sir, that I hold these murderers in the greatest horror, andthat I came here--"

  The negro, interrupting Djalma, said to the officer with a ferociousjoy: "You have hit it; the sons of the good work do know each other bymarks tattooed on their skin. For us, the hour has come--we give ournecks to the cord. Often enough have we twined it round the necks ofthose who served not with us the good work. Now, look at our arms, andlook at the arms of this youth!"

  The officer, misinterpreting the words of the negro, said to Djalma: "Itis quite clear, that if, as this negro tells us, you do not bear onyour arm the mysterious symbol--(we are going to assure ourselves ofthe fact), and if you can explain your presence here in a satisfactorymanner, you may be at liberty within two hours."

  "You do not understand me," said the negro to the officer; "PrinceDjalma is one of us, for he bears on his left arm the name of Bowanee."

  "Yes! he is like us, a son of Kale!" added the Malay.

  "He is like us, a Phansegar," said the Indian.

  The three men, irritated at the horror which Djalma had manifested onlearning that they were Phansegars, took a savage pride in makingit believed that the son of Kadja-sing belonged to their frightfulassociation.

  "What have you to answer?" said the officer to Djalma. The latter againgave a look of disdainful pity, raised with his right hand his long,wide left sleeve, and displayed his naked arm.

  "What audacity!" cried the officer, for on the inner part of the forearm, a little below the bend, the name of the Bowanee, in bright redHindoo characters, was distinctly visible. The officer ran to the Malay,and uncovered his arm; he saw the same word, the same signs. Notyet satisfied, he assured himself that the negro and the Indian werelikewise so marked.

  "Wretch!" cried he, turning furiously towards Djalma; "you inspire evenmore horror than your accomplices. Bind him like a cowardly assassin,"added he to the soldiers; "like a cowardly assassin, who lies upon thebrink of the grave, for his execution will not be long delayed."

  Struck with stupor, Djalma, who for some moments had kept his eyeriveted on the fatal mark, was unable to pronounce a word, or make theleast movement: his powers of thought seemed to fail him, in presence ofthis incomprehensible fact.

  "Would you dare deny this sign?" said the officer to him, withindignation.

  "I cannot deny what I see--what is," said Djalma, quite overcome.

  "It is lucky that you confess at last," replied the officer. "Soldiers,keep watch over him and his accomplices--you
answer for them."

  Almost believing himself the sport of some wild dream. Djalma offered noresistance, but allowed himself to be bound and removed with mechanicalpassiveness. The officer, with part of his soldiers, hoped still todiscover Faringhea amongst the ruins; but his search was vain, and,after spending an hour in fruitless endeavors, he set out for Batavia,where the escort of the prisoners had arrived before him.

  Some hours after these events, M. Joshua van Dael thus finished his longdespatch, addressed to M. Rodin, of Paris:

  "Circumstances were such, that I could not act otherwise; and, takingall into consideration, it is a very small evil for a great good. Threemurderers are delivered over to justice, and the temporary arrest ofDjalma will only serve to make his innocence shine forth with redoubledluster.

  "Already this morning I went to the governor, to protest in favor of ouryoung prince. 'As it was through me,' I said, 'that those three greatcriminals fell into the hands of the authorities, let them at leastshow me some gratitude, by doing everything to render clear as day theinnocence of Prince Djalma, so interesting by reason of his misfortunesand noble qualities. Most certainly,' I added, 'when I came yesterday toinform the governor, that the Phansegars would be found assembled inthe ruins of Tchandi, I was far from anticipating that any one wouldconfound with those wretches the adopted son of General Simon, anexcellent man, with whom I have had for some time the most honorablerelations. We must, then, at any cost, discover the inconceivablemystery that has placed Djalma in this dangerous position;' and, Icontinued, 'so convinced am I of his innocence, that, for his own sake,I would not ask for any favor on his behalf. He will have sufficientcourage and dignity to wait patiently in prison for the day of justice.'In all this, you see, I spoke nothing but the truth, and had not toreproach myself with the least deception, for nobody in the world ismore convinced than I am of Djalma's innocence.

  "The governor answered me as I expected, that morally he felt as certainas I did of the innocence of the young prince, and would treat him withall possible consideration; but that it was necessary for justice tohave its course, because it would be the only way of demonstratingthe falsehood of the accusation, and discovering by what unaccountablefatality that mysterious sign was tattooed upon Djalma's arm.

  "Mahal the Smuggler, who alone could enlighten justice on this subject,will in another hour have quitted Batavia, to go on board the 'Ruyter,'which will take him to Egypt; for he has a note from me to the captain,to certify that he is the person for whom I engaged and paid thepassage. At the same time, he will be the bearer of this long despatch,for the 'Ruyter' is to sail in an hour, and the last letter-bag forEurope was made up yesterday evening. But I wished to see the governorthis morning, before closing the present.

  "Thus, then, is Prince Djalma enforced detained for a month, and, thisopportunity of the 'Ruyter' once lost, it is materially impossible thatthe young Indian can be in France by the 13th of next February. You see,therefore, that, even as you ordered, so have I acted according to themeans at my disposal--considering only the end which justifies them--foryou tell me a great interest of the society is concerned.

  "In your hands, I have been what we all ought to be in the hands of oursuperiors--a mere instrument: since, for the greater glory of God, webecome corpses with regard to the will.(7) Men may deny our unityand power, and the times appear opposed to us; but circumstances onlychange; we are ever the same.

  "Obedience and courage, secrecy and patience, craft and audacity, unionand devotion--these become us, who have the world for our country, ourbrethren for family, Rome for our Queen!

  "J. V."

  About ten o'clock in the morning, Mahal the Smuggler set out with thisdespatch (sealed) in his possession, to board the "Ruyter." An hourlater, the dead body of this same Mahal, strangled by Thuggee, layconcealed beneath some reeds on the edge of a desert strand, whither hehad gone to take boat to join the vessel.

  When at a subsequent period, after the departure of the steamship,they found the corpse of the smuggler, M. Joshua sought in vain for thevoluminous packet, which he had entrusted to his care. Neither was thereany trace of the note which Mahal was to have delivered to the captainof the "Ruyter," in order to be received as passenger.

  Finally, the searches and bushwhacking ordered throughout the countryfor the purpose of discovering Faringhea, were of no avail. Thedangerous chief of the Stranglers was never seen again in Java.

  (7) It is known that the doctrine of passive and absolute obedience,the main-spring of the Society of Jesus, is summed up in those terriblewords of the dying Loyola: "Every member of the Order shall be, in thehands of his superiors, even as a corpse (Perinde ac Cadaver)."--E. S.