by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER LXIV. AN EVENING AT SAINTE-COLOMBE'S.
Leaving Djalma and Faringhea in the coach, on their way, a few words areindispensable before continuing this scene. Ninny Moulin, ignorant ofthe real object of the step he took at the instigation of Rodin, had,on the evening before, according to orders received from the latter,offered a considerable sum to Sainte-Colombe, to obtain from thatcreature (still singularly rapacious) the use of her apartments forwhole day. Sainte-Colombe, having accepted this proposition, tooadvantageous to be refused, had set out that morning with her servants,to whom she wished, she said, in return for their good services, to givea day's pleasure in the country. Master of the house, Rodin, in a blackwig, blue spectacles, and a cloak, and with his mouth and chin buriedin a worsted comforter--in a word, perfectly disguised--had gone thatmorning to take a look at the apartments, and to give his instructionsto the half-caste. The latter, in two hours from the departure of theJesuit, had, thanks to his address and intelligence, completed the mostimportant preparation and returned in haste to Djalma, to play withdetestable hypocrisy the scene at which we have just been present.
During the ride from the Rue de Clichy to the Rue de Richelieu,Faringhea appeared plunged in a mournful reverie. Suddenly, he saidto Djalma to a quick tone: "My lord, if I am betrayed, I must havevengeance."
"Contempt is a terrible revenge," answered Djalma.
"No, no," replied the half-caste, with an accent of repressed rage. "Itis not enough. The nearer the moment approaches, the more I feel I musthave blood."
"Listen to me--"
"My lord, have pity on me! I was a coward to draw back from my revenge.Let me leave you, my lord! I will go alone to this interview."
So saying, Faringhea made a movement, as if he would spring from thecarriage.
Djalma held him by the arm, and said: "Remain! I wilt not leave you.If you are betrayed, you shall not shed blood. Contempt will avenge andfriendship will console you."
"No, no, my lord; I am resolved. When I have killed--then I will killmyself," cried the half-caste, with savage excitement. "This kandjiarfor the false ones!" added he, laying his hand on his dagger. "Thepoison in the hilt for me."
"Faringhea--"
"If I resist you, my lord, forgive me! My destiny must be accomplished."
Time pressed, and Djalma, despairing to calm the other's ferocious rage,resolved to have recourse to a stratagem.
After some minutes' silence, he said to Faringhea: "I will not leaveyou. I will do all I can to save you from a crime. If I do not succeed,the blood you shed be on your own head. This hand shall never again belocked in yours."
These words appeared to make a deep impression on Faringhea. He breatheda long sigh, and, bowing his head upon his breast, remained silentand full of thought. Djalma prepared, by the faint light of the lamps,reflected in the interior of the coach, to throw himself suddenly onthe half-caste, and disarm him. But the latter, who saw at a glance theintention of the prince, drew his kandjiar abruptly from his girdle,and holding it still in its sheath, said to the prince in a half-solemn,half-savage tone: "This dagger, in a strong hand, is terrible; and inthis phial is one of the most subtle poisons of our country."
He touched a spring, and the knob at the top of the hilt rose like alid, discovering the mouth of a small crystal phial concealed in thismurderous weapon.
"Two or three drops of this poison upon the lips," resumed the halfcaste, "and death comes slowly and peacefully, in a few hours, andwithout pain. Only, for the first symptom, the nails turn blue. But hewho emptied this phial at a draught would fall dead, as if struck bylightning."
"Yes," replied Djalma; "I know that our country produces such mysteriouspoisons. But why lay such stress on the murderous properties of thisweapon?"
"To show you, my lord, that this kandjiar would ensure the success andimpunity of my vengeance. With the blade I could destroy, and by thepoison escape from human justice. Well, my lord! this kandjiar--takeit--I give it up to you--I renounce my vengeance--rather than rendermyself unworthy to clasp again your hand!"
He presented the dagger to the prince, who, as pleased as surprisedat this unexpected determination, hastily secured the terrible weaponbeneath his own girdle; whilst the half-breed continued, in a voice ofemotion: "Deep this kandjiar, my lord--and when you have seen and heardall that we go to hear and see--you shall either give me the daggerto strike a wretch--or the poison, to die without striking. You shallcommand; I will obey."
Djalma was about to reply, when the coach stopped at the house inhabitedby Sainte-Colombe. The prince and the half-caste, well enveloped intheir mantles, entered a dark porch, and the door was closed after them.Faringhea exchanged a few words with the porter, and the latter gave hima key. The two Orientals soon arrived at Sainte-Colombe's apartments,which had two doors opening upon the landing-place, besides a privateentrance from the courtyard. As he put the key into the lock, Faringheasaid to Djalma, in an agitated voice: "Pity my weakness, my lord--but,at this terrible moment, I tremble and hesitate. It were perhaps betterto doubt--or to forget!"
Then, as the prince was about to answer, the half-caste exclaimed: "No!we must have no cowardice!" and, opening the door precipitately, heentered, followed by Djalma.
When the door was again closed, the prince and the half-caste foundthemselves in a dark and narrow passage. "Your hand, my lord--let meguide you--walk lightly," said Faringhea, in a low whisper.
He extended his hand to the prince, who took hold of it, and theyboth advanced silently through the darkness. After leading Djalma somedistance, and opening and closing several doors, the half-caste stoppedabruptly, and abandoning the hand which he had hitherto held, said tothe prince: "My lord, the decisive moment approaches; let us wait herefor a few seconds."
A profound silence followed these words of the half-caste. The darknesswas so complete, that Djalma could distinguish nothing. In about aminute, he heard Faringhea moving away from him; and then a door wassuddenly opened, and as abruptly closed and locked. This circumstancemade Djalma somewhat uneasy. By a mechanical movement, he laid his handupon his dagger, and advanced cautiously towards the side, where hesupposed the door to be.
Suddenly, the half-caste's voice struck upon his ear, though it wasimpossible to guess whence it came. "My lord," it said, "you told me,you were my friend. I act as a friend. If I have employed stratagemto bring you hither, it is because the blindness of your fatal passionwould otherwise have prevented your accompanying me. The Princess deSaint Dizier named to you Agricola Baudoin, the lover of Adrienne deCardoville. Listen--look--judge!"
The voice ceased. It appeared to have issued from one corner of theroom. Djalma, still in darkness, perceived too late into what a snare hehad fallen, and trembled with rage--almost with alarm.
"Faringhea!" he exclaimed; "where am I? where are you? Open the door onyour life! I would leave this place instantly."
Extending his arms, the prince advanced hastily several steps, but heonly touched a tapestried wall; he followed it, hoping to find thedoor, and he at length found it; but it was locked, and resisted all hisefforts. He continued his researches, and came to a fireplace with nofire in it, and to a second door, equally fast. In a few moments, hehad thus made the circle of the room, and found himself again at thefireplace. The anxiety of the prince increased more and more. He calledFaringhea, in a voice trembling with passion. There was no answer.Profound silence reigned without, and complete darkness within. Erelong, a perfumed vapor, of indescribable sweetness, but very subtle andpenetrating, spread itself insensibly through the little room in whichDjalma was. It might be, that the orifice of a tube, passing through oneof the doors of the room, introduced this balmy current. At the heightof angry and terrible thoughts, Djalma paid no attention to thisodor--but soon the arteries of his temples began to beat violently, aburning heat seemed to circulate rapidly through his veins, he felt asensation of pleasure, his resentment died gradually away, and a mild,ineffable torpor crept over him, without his being fu
lly conscious ofthe mental transformation that was taking place. Yet, by a last effortof the wavering will, Djalma advanced once more to try and open oneof the doors; he found it indeed, but at this place the vapor was sostrong, that its action redoubled, and, unable to move a step further,Djalma was obliged to support himself by leaning against the wall.(43)
Then a strange thing happened. A faint light spread itself graduallythrough an adjoining apartment, and Djalma now perceived, for the firsttime, the existence of a little round window, in the wall of the room inwhich he was. On the side of the prince, this opening was protected bya slight but strong railing, which hardly intercepted the view. On theother side a thick piece of plate-glass was fixed at the distance of twoor three inches from the railing in question. The room, which Djalma sawthrough this window, and through which the faint light was now graduallyspreading, was richly furnished. Between two windows, hung with crimsonsilk curtains, stood a kind of wardrobe, with a looking-glass front;opposite the fireplace in which glowed the burning coals, was a long,wide divan, furnished with cushions.
In another second a woman entered this apartment. Her face and figurewere invisible, being wrapped in a long, hooded mantle, of peculiarform, and a dark color. The sight of this mantle made Djalma start. Tothe pleasure he at first felt succeeded a feverish anxiety, like thegrowing fumes of intoxication. There was that strange buzzing in hisears which we experience when we plunge into deep waters. It was in akind of delirium that Djalma looked on at what was passing in the nextroom. The woman who had just appeared entered with caution, almost withfear. Drawing aside one of the window curtains, she glanced throughthe closed blinds into the street. Then she returned slowly to thefireplace, where she stood for a moment pensive, still carefullyenveloped in her mantle. Completely yielding to the influence of thevapor, which deprived him of his presence of mind--forgetting Faringhea,and all the circumstances that had accompanied his arrival at thishouse--Djalma concentrated all the powers of his attention on thespectacle before him, at which he seemed to be present as in a dream.
Suddenly Djalma saw the woman leave the fireplace and advance towardsthe looking-glass. Turning her face toward it, she allowed the mantleto glide down to her feet. Djalma was thunderstruck. He saw the faceof Adrienne de Cardoville. Yes, Adrienne, as he had seen her the nightbefore, attired as during her interview with the Princess de SaintDizier--the light green dress, the rose-colored ribbons, the whitehead ornaments. A network of white beads concealed her back hair, andharmonized admirably with the shining gold of her ringlets. Finally, asfar as the Hindoo could judge through the railing and the thick glass,and in the faint light, it was the figure of Adrienne, with her marbleshoulders and swan-like neck, so proud and so graceful. In a word, hecould not, he did not doubt that it was Adrienne de Cardoville. Djalmawas bathed in a burning dew, his dizzy excitement increased, and, withbloodshot eye and heaving bosom, he remained motionless, gazing almostwithout the power of thought. The young lady, with her back stillturned towards Djalma, arranged her hair with graceful art, took off thenetwork which formed her head-dress, placed it on the chimney-piece, andbegan to unfasten her gown; then, withdrawing from the looking-glass,she disappeared for an instant from Djalma's view.
"She is expecting Agricola Baudoin, her lover," said a voice, whichseemed to proceed from the wall of the dark room in which Djalma was.
Notwithstanding his bewilderment, these terrible words, "She isexpecting Agricola Baudoin, her lover," passed like a stream of firethrough the brain and heart of the prince. A cloud of blood came overhis eyes, he uttered a hollow moan, which the thickness of the glassprevented from being heard in the next room, and broke his nails inattempting to tear down the iron railing before the window.
Having reached this paroxysm of delirious rage, Djalma saw the uncertainlight grow still fainter, as if it had been discreetly obscured, and,through the vapory shadow that hung before him, he perceived the younglady returning, clad in a long white dressing-gown, and with hergolden curls floating over her naked arms and shoulders. She advancedcautiously in the direction of a door which was hid from Djalma's view.At this moment, one of the doors of the apartment in which the princewas concealed was gently opened by an invisible hand. Djalma noticed itby the click of the lock, and by the current of fresh air which streamedupon his face, for he could see nothing. This door, left open forDjalma, like that in the next room, to which the young lady had drawnnear, led to a sort of ante-chamber communicating with the stairs, whichsome one now rapidly ascended, and, stopping short, knocked twice at theouter door.
"Here comes Agricola Baudoin. Look and listen!" said the same voice thatthe prince had already heard.
Mad, intoxicated, but with the fixed idea and reckless determination ofa madman or a drunkard, Djalma drew the dagger which Faringhea had leftin his possession, and stood in motionless expectation. Hardly were thetwo knocks heard before the young lady quitted the apartment, from whichstreamed a faint ray of light, ran to the door of the staircase, so thatsome faint glimmer reached the place where Djalma stood watching, hisdagger in his hand. He saw the young lady pass across the ante-chamber,and approach the door of the staircase, where she said in a whisper:"Who is there?"
"It is I--Agricola Baudoin," answered, from, without, a manly voice.
What followed was rapid as lightning, and must be conceived rather thandescribed. Hardly had the young lady drawn the bolt of the door, hardlyhad Agricola Baudoin stepped across the threshold, than Djalma, with thebound of a tiger, stabbed as it were at once, so rapid were the strokes,both the young lady, who fell dead on the floor, and Agricola, who sank,dangerously wounded, by the side of the unfortunate victim. Thisscene of murder, rapid as thought, took place in the midst of a halfobscurity. Suddenly the faint light from the chamber was completelyextinguished, and a second after, Djalma felt his arm seized in thedarkness by an iron grasp, and the voice of Faringhea whispered: "Youare avenged. Come; we can secure our retreat." Inert, stupefied at whathe had done, Djalma offered no resistance, and let himself be draggedby the half-caste into the inner apartment, from which there was anotherway out.
When Rodin had exclaimed, in his admiration of the generative powerof thought, that the word NECKLACE had been the germ of the infernalproject he then contemplated, it was, that chance had brought to hismind the remembrance of the too famous affair of the diamond necklace,in which a woman, thanks to her vague resemblance to Queen MarieAntoinette, being dressed like that princess, and favored by theuncertainty of a twilight, had played so skillfully the part of herunfortunate sovereign, as to make the Cardinal Prince de Rohan, thoughfamiliar with the court, the complete dupe of the illusion. Having oncedetermined on his execrable design, Rodin had sent Jacques Dumoulin toSainte-Colombe, without telling him the real object of his mission, toask this experienced woman to procure a fine young girl, tall, andwith red hair. Once found, a costume exactly resembling that worn byAdrienne, and of which the Princess de Saint-Dizier gave the descriptionto Rodin (though herself ignorant of this new plot), was to complete thedeception. The rest is known, or may be guessed. The unfortunate girl,who acted as Adrienne's double, believed she was only aiding in a jest.As for Agricola, he had received a letter, in which he was invited toa meeting that might be of the greatest importance to Mdlle. deCardoville.
(43) See the strange effect of hasheesh. To the effect of this isattributed the kind of hallucination which seized on those unhappypersons, whom the Prince of the Assassins (the Old Man of the Mountain)used as the instruments of his vengeance.