by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXVI. THE PATIENT.
At the end of the Rue de Vaugirard, there was then a very high wall,with only one small doorway in all its length. On opening this door,you entered a yard surrounded by a railing, with screens like Venetianblinds, to prevent your seeing between the rails. Crossing thiscourtyard, you come to a fine large garden, symmetrically planted, atthe end of which stood a building two stories high, looking perfectlycomfortable, without luxury, but with all that cozy simplicity whichbetokens discreet opulence. A few days had elapsed since Fatherd'Aigrigny had been so courageously rescued by Gabriel from the popularfury. Three ecclesiastics, wearing black gowns, white bands, and squarecaps, were walking in the garden with a slow and measured step. Theyoungest seemed to be about thirty years of age; his countenance waspale, hollow, and impressed with a certain ascetic austerity. His twocompanions, aged between fifty or sixty, had, on the contrary, faces atonce hypocritical and cunning; their round, rosy cheeks shone brightlyin the sunshine, whilst their triple chins, buried in fat, descended insoft folds over the fine cambric of their bands. According to the rulesof their order (they belonged to the Society of Jesus), which forbadetheir walking only two together, these three members of the brotherhoodnever quitted each other a moment.
"I fear," said one of the two, continuing a conversation already begun,and speaking of an absent person, "I fear, that the continual agitationto which the reverend father has been a prey, ever since he was attackedwith the cholera, has exhausted his strength, and caused the dangerousrelapse which now makes us fear for his life."
"They say," resumed the other, "that never was there seen anxiety liketo his."
"And moreover," remarked the young priest, bitterly, "it is painful tothink, that his reverence Father Rodin has given cause for scandal,by obstinately refusing to make a public confession, the day beforeyesterday when his situation appeared so desperate, that, between twofits of a delirium, it was thought right to propose to him to receivethe last sacraments."
"His reverence declared that he was not so ill as they supposed,"answered one of the fathers, "and that he would have the last dutiesperformed when he thought necessary."
"The fact is, that for the last ten days, ever since he was brought heredying, his life has been, as it were, only a long and painful agony; andyet he continues to live."
"I watched by him during the first three days of his malady, with M.Rousselet, the pupil of Dr. Baleinier," resumed the youngest father; "hehad hardly a moment's consciousness, and when the Lord did grant hima lucid interval, he employed it in detestable execrations against thefate which had confined him to his bed."
"It is said," resumed the other, "that Father Rodin made answer tohis Eminence Cardinal Malipieri, who came to persuade him to die in anexemplary manner, worthy of a son of Loyola, our blessed founder"--atthese words, the three Jesuits bowed their heads together, as if theyhad been all moved by the same spring--"it is said, that Father Rodinmade answer to his eminence: 'I do not need to confess publicly; I WANTTO LIVE, AND I WILL LIVE.'"
"I did not hear that," said the young priest, with an indignant air;"but if Father Rodin really made use of such expressions, it is--"
Here, no doubt, reflection came to him just in time, for he stole asidelong glance at his two silent, impassible companions, and added: "Itis a great misfortune for his soul; but I am certain, his reverence hasbeen slandered."
"It was only as a calumnious report, that I mentioned those words," saidthe other priest, exchanging a glance with his companion.
One of the garden gates opened, and one of the three reverend fathersexclaimed, at the sight of the personage who now entered: "Oh! here ishis Eminence Cardinal Malipieri, coming to pay a visit to Father Rodin."
"May this visit of his eminence," said the young priest, calmly, "bemore profitable to Father Rodin than the last!"
Cardinal Malipieri was crossing the garden, on his way to the apartmentoccupied by Rodin.
Cardinal Malipieri, whom we saw assisting at the sort of council held atthe Princess de Saint-Dizier's, now on his way to Rodin's apartment, wasdressed as a layman, but enveloped in an ample pelisse of puce-coloredsatin, which exhaled a strong odor of camphor, for the prelate hadtaken care to surround himself with all sorts of anti-cholera specifics.Having reached the second story of the house, the cardinal knocked ata little gray door. Nobody answering, he opened it, and, like a man towhom the locality was well known, passed through a sort of antechamber,and entered a room in which was a turn-up bed. On a black wood tablewere many phials, which had contained different medicines. The prelate'scountenance seemed uneasy and morose; his complexion was still yellowand bilious; the brown circle which surrounded his black, squinting eyesappeared still darker than usual.
Pausing a moment, he looked round him almost in fear, and several timesstopped to smell at his anti-cholera bottle. Then, seeing he was alone,he approached a glass over the chimney-piece, and examined with muchattention the color of his tongue; after some minutes spent in thiscareful investigation, with the result of which he appeared tolerablysatisfied, he took some preservative lozenges out of a golden box, andallowed them to melt in his mouth, whilst he closed his eyes with asanctified air. Having taken these sanitary precautions, and againpressed his bottle to his nose, the prelate prepared to enter the thirdroom, when he heard a tolerably loud noise through the thin partitionwhich separated him from it, and, stopping to listen, all that was saidin the next apartment easily reached his ear.
"Now that my wounds are dressed, I will get up," said weak, but sharpand imperious voice.
"Do not think of it, reverend father," was answered in a stronger tone;"it is impossible."
"You shall see if it is impossible," replied the other voice.
"But, reverend father, you will kill yourself. You are not in a state toget up. You will expose yourself to a mortal relapse. I cannot consentto it."
To these words succeeded the noise of a faint struggle, mingled withgroans more angry than plaintive, and the voice resumed: "No, no,father; for your own safety, I will not leave your clothes within yourreach. It is almost time for your medicine; I will go and prepare it foryou."
Almost immediately after, the door opened, and the prelate saw enter aman of about twenty-five years of age, carrying on his arm an old olivegreat-coat and threadbare black trousers, which he threw down upon achair.
This personage was Ange Modeste Rousselet, chief pupil of Dr. Baleinier;the countenance of the young practitioner was mild, humble, andreserved; his hair, very short in front, flowed down upon his neckbehind. He made a slight start in surprise on perceiving the cardinal,and bowed twice very low, without raising his eyes.
"Before anything else," said the prelate, with his marked Italianaccent, still holding to his nose his bottle of camphor, "have anycholeraic symptoms returned?"
"No, my lord; the pernicious fever, which succeeded the attack ofcholera, still continues."
"Very good. But will not the reverend father be reasonable? What was thenoise that I just heard?"
"His reverence wished absolutely to get up and dress himself; but hisweakness is so great, that he could not have taken two steps from thebed. He is devoured by impatience, and we fear that this agitation willcause a mortal relapse."
"Has Dr. Baleinier been here this morning?"
"He has just left, my lord."
"What does he think of the patient?"
"He finds him in the most alarming state, my lord. The night was so bad,that he was extremely uneasy this morning. Father Rodin is at one ofthose critical junctures, when a few hours may decide the life or deathof the patient. Dr. Baleinier is now gone to fetch what is necessary fora very painful operation, which he is about to perform on the reverendfather."
"Has Father d'Aigrigny been told of this?"
"Father d'Aigrigny is himself very unwell, as your eminence knows; hehas not been able to leave his bed for the last three days."
"I inquired about him as I came up," answered the pr
elate, "and I shallsee him directly. But, to return to Father Rodin, have you sent forhis confessor, since he is in a desperate state, and about to undergo aserious operation?"
"Dr. Baleinier spoke a word to him about it, as well as about the lastsacraments; but Father Rodin exclaimed, with great irritation, that theydid not leave him a moment's peace, that he had as much care as any onefor his salvation, and that--"
"Per Bacco! I am not thinking of him," cried the cardinal, interruptingAnge Modeste Rousselet with his pagan oath, and raising his sharp voiceto a still higher key; "I am not thinking of him, but of the interestsof the Company. It is indispensable that the reverend father shouldreceive the sacraments with the most splendid solemnity, and that hisend should not only be Christian, but exemplary. All the people in thehouse, and even strangers, should be invited to the spectacle, so thathis edifying death may produce an excellent sensation."
"That is what Fathers Grison and Brunet have already endeavored topersuade his reverence, my lord; but your Eminence knows with whatimpatience Father Rodin received this advice, and Dr. Baleinier did notventure to persist, for fear of advancing a fatal crisis."
"Well, I will venture to do it; for in these times of revolutionaryimpiety, a solemnly Christian death would produce a very salutaryeffect on the public. It would indeed be proper to make the necessarypreparations to embalm the reverend father: he might then lie in statefor some days, with lighted tapers, according to Romish custom. Mysecretary would furnish the design for the bier; it would be verysplendid and imposing; from his position in the Order, Father Rodin isentitled to have everything in the most sumptuous style. He must have atleast six hundred tapers, and a dozen funeral lamps, burning spirits ofwine, to hang just over the body, and light it from above: the effectwould be excellent. We must also distribute little tracts to the people,concerning the pious and ascetic life of his reverence--"
Here a sudden noise, like that of some piece of metal thrown angrily onthe floor, was heard from the next room, in which was the sick man, andinterrupted the prelate in his description.
"I hope Father Rodin has not heard you talk of embalming him, my lord,"said Rousselet, in a whisper: "his bed touches the partition, and almosteverything is audible through it."
"If Father Rodin has heard me," answered the cardinal, sinking hisvoice, and retiring to the other end of the room, "this circumstancewill enable me to enter at once on the business; but, in any case,I persist in believing that the embalming and the lying in state arerequired to make a good effect upon the public. The people are alreadyfrightened at the cholera, and such funeral pomp would have no smallinfluence on the imagination."
"I would venture to observe to your Eminence, that here the laws areopposed to such exhibitions."
"The laws--already the laws!" said the cardinal, angrily; "has not Romealso her laws? And is not every priest a subject of Rome? Is it nottime--"
But, not choosing, doubtless, to begin a more explicit conversation withthe young doctor, the prelate resumed, "We will talk of this hereafter.But, tell me, since my last visit, has the reverend father had any freshattacks of delirium?"
"Yes, my lord; here is the note, as your Eminence commanded." So sayingRousselet delivered a paper to the prelate. We will inform the readerthat this part of the conversation between Rousselet and the cardinalwas carried on at a distance from the partition, so that Rodin couldhear nothing of it, whilst that which related to the embalming had beenperfectly audible to him.
The cardinal, having received the note from Rousselet, perused it withan expression of lively curiosity. When he had finished, he crumpledit in his hand, and said, without attempting to dissemble his vexation,"Always nothing but incoherent expression. Not two words together, fromwhich you can draw any reasonable conclusion. One would really thinkthis man had the power to control himself even in his delirium, and torave about insignificant matters only."
Then, addressing Rousselet, "You are sure that you have reportedeverything that escaped from him during his delirium?"
"With the exception of the same phrases, that he repeated over and overagain, your Eminence may be assured that I have not omitted a singleword, however unmeaning."
"Show me into Father Rodin's room," said the prelate, after a moment'ssilence.
"But, my lord," answered the young doctor, with some hesitation, "thefit has only left him about an hour, and the reverend father is stillvery weak."
"The more the reason," replied the prelate, somewhat indiscreetly.Then, recollecting himself, he added, "He will the better appreciatethe consolations I have to offer. Should he be asleep, awake him, andannounce my visit."
"I have only orders to receive from your Eminence," said Rousselet,bowing, and entering the next room.
Left alone, the cardinal said to himself, with a pensive air, "I alwayscome back to that. When he was suddenly attacked by the cholera, FatherRodin believed himself poisoned by order of the Holy See. He must thenhave been plotting something very formidable against Rome, to entertainso abominable a fear. Can our suspicions be well founded? Is he actingsecretly and powerfully on the Sacred College? But then for what end?This it has been impossible to penetrate, so faithfully has the secretbeen kept by his accomplices. I had hoped that, during his delirium, hewould let slip some word that would put us on the trace of what we areso much interested to discover. With so restless and active a mind,delirium is often the exaggeration of some dominant idea; yet here Ihave the report of five different fits--and nothing--no, nothing butvague, unconnected phrases."
The return of Rousselet put an end to these reflections. "I am sorry toinform my lord that the reverend father obstinately refuses to see anyone. He says that he requires absolute repose. Though very weak, he hasa savage and angry look, and I should not be surprised if he overheardyour Eminence talk about embalming him."
The cardinal, interrupting Rousselet, said to him, "Did Father Rodinhave his last fit of delirium in the night?"
"Between three and half-past five this morning, my lord."
"Between three and half-past five," repeated the prelate, as if hewished to impress this circumstance on his memory, "the attack presentedno particular symptoms?"
"No, my lord; it consisted of rambling, incoherent talk, as yourEminence may see by this note."
Then, as he perceived the prelate approaching Father Rodin's door,Rousselet added, "The reverend father will positively see no one,my lord; he requires rest, to prepare for the operation; it might bedangerous--"
Without attending to these observations, the cardinal entered Rodin'schamber. It was a tolerably large room, lighted by two windows, andsimply but commodiously furnished. Two logs were burning slowly in thefireplace, in which stood a coffee-pot, a vessel containing mustardpoultice, etc. On the chimney-piece were several pieces of rag, and somelinen bandages. The room was full of that faint chemical odor peculiarto the chambers of the sick, mingled with so putrid a stench, that thecardinal stopped at the door a moment, before he ventured to advancefurther. As the three reverend fathers had mentioned in their walk,Rodin lived because he had said to himself, "I want to live, and I willlive."
For, as men of timid imaginations and cowardly minds often die from themere dread of dying, so a thousand facts prove that vigor of characterand moral energy may often struggle successfully against disease, andtriumph over the most desperate symptoms.
It was thus with the Jesuit. The unshaken firmness of his character, theformidable tenacity of his will (for the will has sometimes a mysteriousand almost terrific power), aiding the skillful treatment of Dr.Baleinier, had saved him from the pestilence with which he had been sosuddenly attacked. But the shock had been succeeded by a violent fever,which placed Rodin's life in the utmost peril. This increased danger hadcaused the greatest alarm to Father d'Aigrigny, who felt, in spite ofhis rivalry and jealousy, that Rodin was the master-spirit of the plotin which they were engaged, and could alone conduct it to a successfulissue.
The curtains of the room was half clos
ed, and admitted only a doubtfullight to the bed on which Rodin was lying. The Jesuit's featureshad lost the greenish hue peculiar to cholera patients, but remainedperfectly livid and cadaverous, and so thin, that the dry, rugged skinappeared to cling to the smallest prominence of bone. The muscles andveins of the long, lean, vulture-like neck resembled a bundle of cords.The head, covered with an old, black, filthy nightcap, from beneathwhich strayed a few thin, gray hairs, rested upon a dirty pillow; forRodin would not allow them to change his linen. His iron-gray beard hadnot been shaved for some time, and stood out like the hairs of a brush.Under his shirt he wore an old flannel waistcoat full of holes. He hadone of his arms out of bed, and his bony hairy hand, with its bluishnails, held fast a cotton handkerchief of indescribable color.
You might have taken him for a corpse, had it not been for the twobrilliant sparks which still burned in the depths of his eyes. In thatlook, in which seemed concentrated all the remaining life and energyof the man, you might read the most restless anxiety. Sometimes hisfeatures revealed the sharpest pangs; sometimes the twisting of hishands, and his sudden starts, proclaimed his despair at being thusfettered to a bed of pain, whilst the serious interests which he hadin charge required all the activity of his mind. Thus, with thoughtscontinually on the stretch, his mind often wandered, and he had fitsof delirium, from which he woke as from a painful dream. By the prudentadvice of Dr. Baleinier, who considered him not in a state to attend tomatters of--importance, Father d'Aigrigny had hitherto evaded Rodin'squestions with regard to the Rennepont affair, which he dreaded to seelost and ruined in consequence of his forced inaction. The silence ofFather d'Aigrigny on this head, and the ignorance in which they kepthim, only augmented the sick man's exasperation. Such was the moral andphysical state of Rodin, when Cardinal Malipieri entered his chamberagainst his will.