by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XVII. RENDERING THE ACCOUNT.
At sight of Rodin, the two prelates and Father d'Aigrigny rosespontaneously, so much were they overawed by the real superiorityof this man; their faces, just before contracted with suspicion andjealousy, suddenly brightened up, and seemed to smile on the reverendfather with affectionate deference. The princess advanced some steps tomeet him.
Rodin, badly dressed as ever, leaving on the soft carpet the muddy trackof his clumsy shoes, put his umbrella into one corner, and advancedtowards the table--not with his accustomed humility, but with slow step,uplifted head, and steady glance; not only did he feel himself in themidst of his partisans, but he knew that he could rule them all by thepower of his intellect.
"We were speaking of your reverence, my dear, good father," said thecardinal, with charming affability.
"Ah!" said Rodin, looking fixedly at the prelate; "and what were yousaying?"
"Why," replied the Belgian bishop, wiping his forehead, "all the goodthat can be said of your reverence."
"Will you not take something, my good father?" said the princess toRodin, as she pointed to the splendid sideboard.
"Thank you, madame, I have eaten my radish already this morning."
"My secretary, Abbe Berlini, who was present at your repast, was,indeed, much astonished at your reverence's frugality," said theprelate: "it is worthy of an anchorite."
"Suppose we talk of business," said Rodin, abruptly, like a manaccustomed to lead and control the discussion.
"We shall always be most happy to hear you," said the prelate. "Yourreverence yourself fixed to-day to talk over this great Rennepontaffair. It is of such importance, that it was partly the cause of myjourney to France; for to support the interests of the glorious Companyof Jesus, with which I have the honor of being associated, is to supportthe interests of Rome itself, and I promised the reverend Father-Generalthat I would place myself entirely at your orders."
"I can only repeat what his Eminence has just said," added the bishop."We set out from Rome together, and our ideas are just the same."
"Certainly," said Rodin, addressing the cardinal, "your Eminence mayserve our cause, and that materially. I will tell you how presently."
Then, addressing the princess, he continued: "I have desired Dr.Baleinier to come here, madame, for it will be well to inform him ofcertain things."
"He will be admitted as usual," said the princess.
Since Rodin's arrival Father d'Aigrigny had remained silent; he seemedoccupied with bitter thoughts, and with some violent internal struggle.At last, half rising, he said to the prelate, in a forced tone of voice:"I will not ask your Eminence to judge between the reverend Father Rodinand myself. Our General has pronounced, and I have obeyed. But, as yourEminence will soon see our superior, I should wish that you would grantme the favor to report faithfully the answers of Father Rodin to one ortwo questions I am about to put to him."
The prelate bowed. Rodin looked at Father d'Aigrigny with an air ofsurprise, and said to him, dryly: "The thing is decided. What is the useof questions?"
"Not to justify myself," answered Father d'Aigrigny, "but to placematters in their true light before his Eminence."
"Speak, then; but let us have no useless speeches," said Rodin, drawingout his large silver watch, and looking at it. "By two o'clock I must beat Saint-Sulpice."
"I will be as brief as possible," said Father d'Aigrigny, with repressedresentment. Then, addressing Rodin, he resumed: "When your reverencethought fit to take my place, and to blame, very severely perhaps,the manner in which I had managed the interests confided to my care, Iconfess honestly that these interests were gravely compromised."
"Compromised?" said Rodin, ironically; "you mean lost. Did you not orderme to write to Rome, to bid them renounce all hope?"
"That is true," said Father d'Aigrigny.
"It was then a desperate case, given up by the best doctors," continuedRodin, with irony, "and yet I have undertaken to restore it to life. Goon."
And, plunging both hands into the pockets of his trousers, he lookedFather d'Aigrigny full in the face.
"Your reverence blamed me harshly," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, "not forhaving sought, by every possible means, to recover the property odiouslydiverted from our society--"
"All your casuists authorize you to do so," said the cardinal; "thetexts are clear and positive; you have a right to recover; per fas autnefas what has been treacherously taken from you."
"And therefore," resumed Father d'Aigrigny, "Father Rodin onlyreproached me with the military roughness of my means. 'Their violence,'he said, 'was in dangerous opposition to the manners of the age.' Be itso; but first of all, I could not be exposed to any legal proceedings,and, but for one fatal circumstance, success would have crowned thecourse I had taken, however rough and brutal it may appear. Now, may Iask your reverence what--"
"What I have done more than you?" said Rodin to Father d'Aigrigny,giving way to his impertinent habit of interrupting people; "what I havedone better than you?--what step I have taken in the Rennepont affair,since I received it from you in a desperate condition? Is that what youwish to know?"
"Precisely," said Father d'Aigrigny, dryly.
"Well, I confess," resumed Rodin, in a sardonic tone, "just as you didgreat things, coarse things, turbulent things, I have been doing little,puerile, secret things. Oh, heaven! you cannot imagine what a foolishpart I, who passed for a man of enlarged views, have been acting for thelast six weeks."
"I should never have allowed myself to address such a reproach to yourreverence, however deserved it may appear," said Father d'Aigrigny, witha bitter smile.
"A reproach?" said Rodin, shrugging his shoulders; "a reproach? Youshall be the judge. Do you know what I wrote about you, some six weeksago? Here it is: 'Father d'Aigrigny has excellent qualities. He willbe of much service to me'--and from to-morrow I shall employ you veryactively, added Rodin, by way of parenthesis--'but he is not greatenough to know how to make himself little on occasion.' Do youunderstand?"
"Not very well," said Father d'Aigrigny, blushing.
"So much the worse for you," answered Rodin; "it only proves that I wasright. Well, since I must tell you, I have been wise enough to play themost foolish part for six whole weeks. Yes, I have chatted nonsense witha grisette--have talked of liberty, progress, humanity, emancipation ofwomen, with a young, excited girl; of Napoleon the Great, and all sortsof Bonapartist idolatry, with an old, imbecile soldier; of imperialglory, humiliation of France, hopes in the King of Rome, with a certainmarshal of France, who, with a heart full of adoration for the robber ofthrones, that was transported to Saint-Helena, has a head as hollow andsonorous as a trumpet, into which you have only to blow some warlike orpatriotic notes, and it will flourish away of itself, without knowingwhy or how. More than all this, I have talked of love affairs witha young tiger. When I told you it was lamentable to see a man ofany intelligence descend, as I have done, to all such petty ways ofconnecting the thousand threads of this dark web, was I not right? Is itnot a fine spectacle to see the spider obstinately weaving its net?--tosee the ugly little black animal crossing thread upon thread, fasteningit here, strengthening it there, and again lengthening it in someother place? You shrug your shoulders in pity; but return two hoursafter--what will you find? The little black animal eating its fill, andin its web a dozen of the foolish flies, bound so securely, that thelittle black animal has only to choose the moment of its repast."
As he uttered those words, Rodin smiled strangely; his eyes, graduallyhalf closed, opened to their full width, and seemed to shine morethan usual. The Jesuit felt a sort of feverish excitement, which heattributed to the contest in which he had engaged before these eminentpersonages, who already felt the influence of his original and cuttingspeech.
Father d'Aigrigny began to regret having entered on the contest. Heresumed, however, with ill-repressed irony: "I do not dispute thesmallness of your means. I agree with you, they are very puerile--theyare
even very vulgar. But that is not quite sufficient to give anexalted notion of your merit. May I be allowed to ask--"
"What these means have produced?" resumed Rodin, with an excitement thatwas not usual with him. "Look into my spider's web, and you will seethere the beautiful and insolent young girl, so proud, six weeks ago, ofher grace, mind, and audacity--now pale, trembling, mortally wounded atthe heart."
"But the act of chivalrous intrepidity of the Indian prince, with whichall Paris is ringing," said the princess, "must surely have touchedMdlle. de Cardoville."
"Yes; but I have paralyzed the effect of that stupid and savagedevotion, by demonstrating to the young lady that it is not sufficientto kill black panthers to prove one's self a susceptible, delicate, andfaithful lover."
"Be it so," said Father d'Aigrigny; "we will admit the fact that Mdlle.de Cardoville is wounded to the heart."
"But what does this prove with regard to the Rennepont affair?" askedthe cardinal, with curiosity, as he leaned his elbows on the table.
"There results from it," said Rodin, "that when our most dangerous enemyis mortally wounded, she abandons the battlefield. That is something, Ishould imagine."
"Indeed," said the princess, "the talents and audacity of Mdlle. deCardoville would make her the soul of the coalition formed against us."
"Be it so," replied Father d'Aigrigny, obstinately; "she may be nolonger formidable in that respect. But the wound in her heart will notprevent her from inheriting."
"Who tells you so?" asked Rodin, coldly, and with assurance. "Do youknow why I have taken such pains, first to bring her in contact withDjalma, and then to separate her from him?"
"That is what I ask you," said Father D'Aigrigny; "how can this storm ofpassion prevent Mdlle. de Cardoville and the prince from inheriting?"
"Is it from the serene, or from the stormy sky, that darts thedestroying thunderbolt?" said Rodin, disdainfully. "Be satisfied; Ishall know where to place the conductor. As for M. Hardy, the man livedfor three things: his workmen, his friend, his mistress. He has beenthrice wounded in the heart. I always take aim at the heart; it is legaland sure."
"It is legal, and sure, and praiseworthy," said the bishop; "for, ifI understand you rightly, this manufacturer had a concubine; now it iswell to make use of an evil passion for the punishment of the wicked."
"True, quite true," added the cardinal; "if they have evil passion forus to make use of it, it is their own fault."
"Our holy Mother Perpetue," said the princess, "took every means todiscover this abominable adultery."
"Well, then, M. Hardy is wounded in his dearest affections, I admit,"said Father d'Aigrigny, still disputing every inch of ground; "ruinedtoo in his fortune, which will only make him the more eager after thisinheritance."
The argument appeared of weight to the two prelates and the princess;all looked at Rodin with anxious curiosity. Instead of answering hewalked up to the sideboard, and, contrary to his habits of stoicalsobriety, and in spite of his repugnance for wine, he examined thedecanters, and said: "What is there in them?"
"Claret and sherry," said the hostess, much astonished at the suddentaste of Rodin, "and--"
The latter took a decanter at hazard, and poured out a glass of Madeira,which he drank off at a draught. Just be fore he had felt a strange kindof shivering; to this had succeeded a sort of weakness. He hoped thewine would revive him.
After wiping his mouth with the back of his dirty hand, he returned tothe table, and said to Father d'Aigrigny: "What did you tell me about M.Hardy?"
"That being ruined in fortune, he would be the more eager to obtain thisimmense inheritance," answered Father d'Aigrigny, inwardly much offendedat the imperious tone.
"M. Hardy think of money?" said Rodin, shrugging his shoulders. "He isindifferent to life, plunged in a stupor from which he only starts toburst into tears. Then he speaks with mechanical kindness to those abouthim. I have placed him in good hands. He begins, however, to be sensibleto the attentions shown him, for he is good, excellent, weak; and ii isto this excellence, Father d'Aigrigny, that you must appeal to finishthe work in hand."
"I?" said Father d'Aigrigny, much surprised.
"Yes; and then you will find that the result I have obtained isconsiderable, and--"
Rodin paused, and, pressing his hand to his forehead, said to himself:"It is strange!"
"What is the matter?" said the princess, with interest.
"Nothing, madame," answered Rodin, with a shiver; "it is doubtless thewine I drank; I am not accustomed to it. I feel a slight headache; butit will pass."
"Your eyes are very bloodshot, my good father, said the princess.
"I have looked too closely into my web," answered the Jesuit, with asinister smile; "and I must look again, to make Father d'Aigrigny,who pretends to be blind, catch a glimpse of my other flies. The twodaughters of Marshal Simon, for instance, growing sadder and moredejected every day, at the icy barrier raised between them and theirfather; and the latter thinking himself one day dishonored if he doesthis, another if he does that; so that the hero of the Empire has becomeweaker and more irresolute than a child. What more remains of thisimpious family? Jacques Rennepont? Ask Morok, to what a state ofdebasement intemperance has reduced him, and towards what an abyss he isrushing!--There is my occurrence-sheet; you see to what are reduced allthe members of this family, who, six weeks ago, had each elements ofstrength and union! Behold these Renneponts, who, by the will of theirheretical ancestor, were to unite their forces to combat and crush ourSociety!--There was good reason to fear them; but what did I say? That Iwould act upon their passions. What have I done? I have acted upon theirpassions. At this hour they are vainly struggling in my web--they aremine--they are mine--"
As he was speaking, Rodin's countenance and voice had undergone asingular alteration; his complexion, generally so cadaverous, had becomeflushed, but unequally, and in patches; then, strange phenomenon! hiseyes grew both more brilliant and more sunken, and his voice sharperand louder. The change in the countenance of Rodin, of which he did notappear to be conscious, was so remarkable, that the other actors in thisscene looked at him with a sort of terror.
Deceived as to the cause of this impression, Rodin exclaimed withindignation, in a voice interrupted by deep gaspings for breath: "It ispity for this impious race, that I read upon your faces? Pity for theyoung girl, who never enters a church, and erects pagan altars inher habitation? Pity for Hardy, the sentimental blasphemer, thephilanthropic atheist, who had no chapel in his factory, and daredto blend the names of Socrates, Marcus, Aurelius, and Plato, with ourSavior's? Pity for the Indian worshipper of Brahma? Pity for the twosisters, who have never even been baptized? Pity for that brute, JacquesRennepont? Pity for the stupid imperial soldier, who has Napoleon forhis god, and the bulletins of the Grand Army for his gospel? Pityfor this family of renegades, whose ancestor, a relapsed heretic, notcontent with robbing us of our property, excites from his tomb, at theend of a century and a half, his cursed race to lift their heads againstus? What! to defend ourselves from these vipers, we shall not have theright to crush them in their own venom?--I tell you, that it is toserve heaven, and to give a salutary example to the world, to devote, byunchaining their own passions, this impious family to grief and despairand death!"
As he spoke thus, Rodin was dreadful in his ferocity; the fire of hiseyes became still more brilliant; his lips were dry and burning, a coldsweat bathed his temples, which could be seen throbbing; an icy shudderran through his frame. Attributing these symptoms to fatigue fromwriting through a portion of the night, and wishing to avoid fainting,he went to the sideboard, filled another glass with wine, which he drankoff at a draught, and returned as the cardinal said to him: "If yourcourse with regard to this family needed justification, my good father,your last word would have victoriously justified it. Not only are youright, according to your own casuists, but there is nothing in yourproceedings contrary to human laws. As for the divine law, it ispleasing to the Lord to destroy
impiety with its own weapons."
Conquered, as well as the others, by Rodin's diabolical assurance, andbrought back to a kind of fearful admiration, Father d'Aigrigny said tohim: "I confess I was wrong in doubting the judgment of your reverence.Deceived by the appearance of the means employed, I could not judgeof their connection, and above all, of their results. I now see, that,thanks to you, success is no longer doubtful."
"This is an exaggeration," replied Rodin, with feverish impatience; "allthese passions are at work, but the moment is critical. As the alchemistbends over the crucible, which may give him either treasures or suddendeath--I alone at this moment--"
Rodin did not finish the sentence. He pressed both his hands to hisforehead, with a stifled cry of pain.
"What is the matter?" said Father d'Aigrigny. "For some moments you havebeen growing fearfully pale."
"I do not know 'what is the matter," said Rodin, in an altered voice;"my headache increases--I am seized with a sort of giddiness."
"Sit down," said the princess, with interest.
"Take something," said the bishop.
"It will be nothing," said Rodin, with an effort; "I am no milksop,thank heaven!--I had little sleep last night; it is fatigue--nothingmore. I was saying, that I alone could now direct this affair: but Icannot execute the plan myself. I must keep out of the way, and watchin the shade: I must hold the threads, which I alone can manage," addedRodin, in a faint voice.
"My good father," said the cardinal uneasily, "I assure you that you arevery unwell. Your paleness is becoming livid."
"It is possible," answered Rodin, courageously; "but I am not to be sosoon conquered. To return to our affair--this is the time, in which yourqualities, Father d'Aigrigny, will turn to good account. I have neverdenied them, and they may now be of the greatest use. You have the powerof charming--grace--eloquence--you must--"
Rodin paused again. A cold sweat poured from his forehead. He felt hislegs give way under him, notwithstanding his obstinate energy.
"I confess, I am not well," he said; "yet, this morning, I was as wellas ever. I shiver. I am icy cold."
"Draw near the fire--it is a sudden indisposition," said the bishop,offering his arm with heroic devotion; "it will not be anything ofconsequence."
"If you were to take something warm, a cup of tea," said the princess;"Dr. Baleinier will be here directly--he will reassure us as tothis--indisposition."
"It is really inexplicable," said the prelate.
At these words of the cardinal, Rodin, who had advanced with difficultytowards the fire, turned his eyes upon the prelate, and looked at himfixedly in a strange manner, for about a second; then, strong in hisunconquerable energy, notwithstanding the change in his features, whichwere now visibly disfigured, Rodin said, in a broken voice, which hetried to make firm: "The fire has warmed me; it will be nothing. I haveno time to coddle myself. It would be a pretty thing to fall ill just asthe Rennepont affair can only succeed by my exertions! Let us return tobusiness. I told you, Father d'Aigrigny, that you might serve us a gooddeal; and you also, princess, who have espoused this cause as if it wereyour own--"
Rodin again paused. This time he uttered a piercing cry, sank upona chair placed near him, and throwing himself back convulsively, hepressed his hands to his chest, and exclaimed: "Oh! what pain!"
Then (dreadful sight!) a cadaverous decomposition, rapid as thought,took place in Rodin's features. His hollow eyes were filled with blood,and seemed to shrink back in their orbits, which formed, as it were,two dark holes, in the centre of which blazed points of fire; nervousconvulsions drew the flabby, damp, and icy skin tight over the bonyprominences of the face, which was becoming rapidly green. From thelips, writhing with pain, issued the struggling breath, mingled with thewords: "Oh! I suffer! I burn!"
Then, yielding to a transport of fury. Rodin tore with his nails hisnaked chest, for he had twisted off the buttons of his waistcoat, andrent his black and filthy shirt-front, as if the pressure of thosegarments augmented the violence of the pain under which he was writhing.The bishop, the cardinal, and Father d'Aigrigny, hastily approachedRodin, to try and hold him; he was seized with horrible convulsions;but, suddenly, collecting all his strength, he rose upon his feet stiffas a corpse. Then, with his garments in disorder, his thin, gray hairstanding up all around his greenish face, fixing his red and flamingeyes upon the cardinal, he seized him with convulsive grasp, andexclaimed in a terrible voice, half stifled in his throat: "CardinalMalipieri--this illness is too sudden--they suspect me at Rome--youare of the race of the Borgias--and your secretary was with me thismorning!"
"Unhappy man! what does he dare insinuate?" cried the prelate, as amazedas he was indignant at the accusation. So saying, the cardinal strove tofree himself from the grasp of Rodin, whose fingers were now as stiff asiron.
"I am poisoned!" muttered Rodin, and sinking back, he fell into the armsof Father d'Aigrigny.
Notwithstanding his alarm, the cardinal had time to whisper to thelatter: "He thinks himself poisoned. He must therefore be plottingsomething very dangerous."
The door of the room opened. It was Dr. Baleinier.
"Oh, doctor!" cried the princess, as she ran pale and frightened towardshim; "Father Rodin has been suddenly attacked with terrible convulsions.Quick! quick!"
"Convulsions? oh! it will be nothing, madame," said the doctor, throwingdown his hat upon a chair, and hastily approaching the group whichsurrounded the sick man.
"Here is the doctor!" cried the princess. All stepped aside, exceptFather d'Aigrigny, who continued to support Rodin, leaning against achair.
"Heavens! what symptoms!" cried Dr. Baleinier, examining with growingterror the countenance of Rodin, which from green was turning blue.
"What is it?" asked all the spectators, with one voice.
"What is it?" repeated the doctor, drawing back as if he had troddenupon a serpent. "It is the cholera! and contagious!"
On this frightful, magic word, Father d'Aigrigny abandoned his hold ofRodin, who rolled upon the floor.
"He is lost!" cried Dr. Baleinier. "But I will run to fetch the meansfor a last effort." And he rushed towards the door.
The Princess de Saint-Dizier, Father d'Aigrigny, the bishop, and thecardinal followed in terror the flight of Dr. Baleinier. They allpressed to the door, which, in their consternation, they could notopen. It opened at last but from without--and Gabriel appeared uponthe threshold. Gabriel, the type of the true priest, the holy, theevangelical minister, to whom we can never pay enough of respect andardent sympathy, and tender admiration. His angelic countenance, in itsmild serenity, offered a striking contrast of these faces, all disturbedand contracted with terror.
The young priest was nearly thrown down by the fugitives, who rushedthrough the now open doorway, exclaiming: "Do not go in! he is dying ofthe cholera. Fly!"
On these words, pushing back the bishop, who, being the last, wastrying to force a passage, Gabriel ran towards Rodin, while the prelatesucceeded in making his escape. Rodin, stretched upon the carpet, hislimbs twisted with fearful cramps, was writhing in the extremityof pain. The violence of his fall had, no doubt, roused him toconsciousness, for he moaned, in a sepulchral voice: "They leave me todie--like a dog--the cowards!--Help!--no one--"
And the dying man, rolling on his back with a convulsive movement,turned towards the ceiling a face on which was branded the infernaldespair of the damned, as he once more repeated: "No one!--not one!"
His eyes, which suddenly flamed with fury, just then met the large blueeyes of the angelic and mild countenance of Gabriel who, kneeling besidehim, said to him, in his soft, grave tones: "I am here, father--to helpyou, if help be possible--to pray for you, if God calls you to him."
"Gabriel!" murmured Rodin, with failing voice; "forgive me for the evilI have done you--do not leave me--do not--"
Rodin could not finish; he had succeeded in raising himself into asitting posture; he now uttered a loud cry, and fell back without senseor motion.