The Mesmerist's Victim
Page 35
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE MISUNDERSTANDING.
The day was closing and Dr. Louis, who was trying to read a medicaltract as he came along in the twilight to the chapel, was vexed at theinterposition of an opaque body to intercept the scanty light.
Raising his head and seeing a man before him, he asked:
"What do you want?"
"Excuse me but is not this Dr. Louis?" asked Philip de Taverney.
"Yes, sir," replied the doctor shutting his book.
"I should like a word with you---- "
"Pardon me, but I am in attendance on her Royal Highness the Dauphinessand---- "
"But the lady I wish to ask you about is in her household---- "
"Do you mean Mdlle. de Taverney?"
"Precisely."
"Aha," said the doctor quickly, examining the young captain.
"I am afraid she is very bad, for she went off into a swoon more thanonce while I was speaking to her this afternoon."
"Oh, you seem to take this to heart?"
"I love Mdlle. de Taverney more than my life."
He spoke the words with such exalted brotherly affection that the doctorwas deceived.
"Oh, so it is you who is the lover?" he exclaimed.
Philip fell two steps back, carrying his hand to his brow and becomingpale as death.
"Mind, sir, you insult my sister!"
"Oh, your sister? excuse me, captain, but your air of mystery, the hourof your addressing me and the place, all led me into error which Ideplore."
"Stay, sir; you think that Mdlle. de Taverney has a lover---- "
"Captain Taverney, I have not said a word of the sort to the Dauphiness,to your father, or to you--press me no more."
"On the contrary, we must speak of this. And yet it is impossible. Ishould have to give up all the religion of my life: it is accusing anangel--it is defying heaven! Doctor, let me require you to approve this.Science may err."
"Seldom."
"But, doctor, promise me that you will come and see her when you returnfrom the Dauphiness? it is the boon the victim would not be refused bythe executioner. You will see her again?"
"It is useless; but I should like to be mistaken. Captain, I will comeand see your sister to-night."
Dr. Louis was one of those grave and honorable men for whom science is aholy thing and who study religiously. In a materialistic age he studiedmental maladies: under the husk of the practitioner he had a heart andthat was why he told Philip that he hoped he had erred.
That was why, too, he came to make a more full examination and was trueto his appointment.
Whether by accident or from emotion due to the doctor's call, Andrea wasseized with one of those fainting fits which had so alarmed her brother,and she was staggering, with her handkerchief carried to her mouth inpain.
The doctor assisted her to the sofa and sat down on it beside her. Shewas astonished at the second visit of one who had declared the caseinsignificant that same morning and still more that he should take herhand, not like a doctor to feel her pulse, but like a friend. She wasalmost going to snatch it away.
"Do you desire to see me, or is it merely the desire of your brother?"he asked.
"My brother did announce his intention of seeing you; but after yourhaving said the matter was of no moment I should not have disturbed youmyself."
"Your brother seems to be excitable, jealous of his honor, andintractable on some points. I suppose this is why you have not unbosomedyourself to him?"
Andrea looked at him with supreme haughtiness.
"Allow me to finish. It is natural that seeing the pain of the younggentleman and foreseeing his anger, you should obstinately keep secretbefore him: but towards me, the physician of the soul as well as of thebody, one who sees and knows, you will be spared half the painful roadof revelation and I have the right to expect you will be more frank."
"Doctor," replied Andrea, "if I did not see my brother darkened withtrue grief and yourself with a reputation of gravity I might believe youwere in a plot to play some comedy with me and to frighten me intotaking some disagreeable medicine."
"I entreat you, young lady," said the doctor frowning, "to stop in thiscourse of dissimulation."
"Dissimulation?"
"Would you rather I said hypocrisy?"
"Sir, you offend me."
"You mean that I read you clearly. Will you spare me the pain of makingyou blush?"
"I do not understand you," said the girl, three times, looking at thedoctor with eyes shining with interrogation and defiance, and almostwith menace.
"But I understand you. You doubt science, and you hope to hide yourcondition from the world. But, undeceive yourself--with one word I pulldown your pride: you are _enceinte_!"
Andrea uttered a frightful shriek and fell back on the sofa.
This cry was followed by the crash of the door flying open and Philipbounded into the room, drawing his sword and crying:
"You lie!"
Without letting go the pulse of the fainted woman, the doctor turnedround to the captain.
"I have said what it was my duty to say," he replied: "and it is notyour sword, in or out of the sheath, which will belie me. I deeplysorrow for you, young gentleman, for you have inspired as much sympathyas this girl has aversion by her perseverance in falsehood."
Andrea made not a movement but Philip started.
"I am father of a family," went on the doctor, "and I understand whatyou must suffer. I promise you my services as I do my discretion. Myword is sacred, and everybody will tell you that I hold it dearer thanmy life."
"This is impossible!"
"It is true. Adieu, Captain."
When he was gone, Philip shut all the doors and windows, and coming backto his sister who watched with stupor these ominous preparations, hesaid, folding his arms:
"You have cowardly and stupidly deceived me. Cowardly, because I lovedyou above all else, and esteemed you, and my trust ought to have inducedyour own though you had no affection. Stupidly, because a third personholds the infamous secret which defames us; because spite of yourcunning, it must have appeared to all eyes; lastly, because if you hadconfessed the state to me, I might have saved you from my affection foryou. Your honor, so long as you were not wedded, belongs to all ofus--that is, you have shamed us all.
"Now, I am no longer your brother since you have blotted out the title:only a man interested in extorting from you by all possible means thewhole secret in order that I may obtain some reparation. I come to youfull of anger and resolution, and I say that you shall be punished ascowards deserve for having been such a coward as to shelter yourselfbehind a lie. Confess your crime, or---- "
"Threats, to me?" cried the proud Andrea, "to a woman?" And she rosepale and menacing likewise.
"Not to a woman but to a faithless, dishonored creature."
"Threats," continued Andrea, more and more exasperated, "to one whoknows nothing, can understand nothing of this except that you are lookedupon by me as sanguinary madmen leagued to kill me with grief if notwith shame."
"Aye, you shall be killed if you do not confess," said Philip. "Die onthe instant, for heaven hath doomed you and I strike at its bidding."
The convulsively young man convulsively picked up his sword, and appliedthe point like lightning to his sister's breast.
"Yes, kill me!" she screamed, without shrinking at the smart of thewound.
She was even springing forward, full of sorrow and dementia, and herleap was so quick that the sword would have run through her bosom butfor the sudden terror of Philip and the sight of a few drops of red onher muslin at the neck making him draw back.
At the end of his strength and his anger, he dropped the blade and fellon his knees at her feet. He wound his arms round her.
"No, Andrea," he cried, "it is I who shall die. You love me no more andI care for nothing in the world. Oh, you love another to such a degreethat you prefer death to a confession poured out on my bosom. Oh,Andrea, it is t
ime that I was dead."
She seized him as he would have dashed away, and wildly embraced him andcovered him with tears and kisses.
"No, Philip, you are right. I ought to die since I am called guilty. Butyou are so good, pure and noble, that nobody will ever defame you andyou should live to sorrow for me, not curse me."
"Well, sister," replied the young man, "in heaven's name, for the sakeof our old time's love, fear nothing for yourself or him you love. Irequire no more of you, not even his name. Enough that the man pleasedyou, and so he is dear to me.
"Let us quit France. I hear that the King gave you some jewels--let ussell them and get away together. We will send half to our father andhide with the other. I will be all to you and you all to me. I love noone, so that I can be devoted to you. Andrea, you see what I do for you;you see you may rely on my love. Come, do you still refuse me yourtrust? will you not call me your brother?"
In silence, Andrea had listened to all the desperate young man had said:only the throbbing of her heart indicated life; only her looks showedreason.
"Philip," she said after a long pause, "you have thought that I lovedyou no longer, poor brother! and loved another man? now I forgive youall but the belief that I am impious enough to take a false oath. Well,I swear by high heaven which hears me, by our mother's soul--it seemsthat she has not long enough defended me, alas! that a thought of lovehas never distracted my reason. Now, God hath my soul in His holykeeping, and my body is at your disposal."
"Then there is witchcraft here," cried Philip; "I have heard of philtersand potions. Someone has laid a hellish snare for you. Awake, none couldhave won this prize--sleeping, they have despoiled you. But we aretogether now and you are strong with me. You confide your honor in meand I shall revenge you."
"Yes, revenge, for it would be for a crime!" said the girl, with asombre glow in her eyes.
"Well let us search out the criminal together," continued the Knight ofRedcastle. "Have you noticed any one spying you and following youabout--have you had letters--has a man said he loved you or led you tosuppose so--for women have a remarkable instinct in such matters?"
"No one, nothing."
"Have you never walked out alone?"
"I always had Nicole with me."
"Nicole? a girl of dubious morals. Have I known all about her escapade?"
"Only that she is supposed to have run away with her sweetheart."
"How did you part?"
"Naturally enough; she attended to her duties up to nine o'clock whenshe arranged my things, set out my drink for the night and went away."
"Your drink? may she not have mixed something with it?"
"No; for I remember that I felt that strange thrill as I was putting theglass to my lips."
"What strange thrill?"
"The same I felt down at our place when that foreign lord Baron Balsamocame to our home. Something like vertigo, a dazing, a loss of all thefaculties. I was at my piano when I felt all spin and swim around me.Looking before me I saw the baron reflected in a mirror. I remember nomore except that I found myself waking in the same spot without abilityto reckon how long I had been unconscious."
"Is this the only time you experienced this feeling?"
"Again on the night of the accident with the fireworks. I was draggedalong with the crowd when suddenly, on the point of being mangled, acloud came over my eyes and my rigid arms were extended: through thecloud I just had time to catch a glimpse of that man. I fell off into asleep or swoon then. You know that Baron Balsamo carried me away andbrought me home."
"Yes; and did you see him again on the night when Nicole fled?"
"No; but I felt all the symptoms which betoken his presence. I went intosleep; when I woke, I was not on the bed but on the floor, alone, coldas in death. I called for Nicole but she had disappeared."
"Twice then you saw this Baron Joseph Balsamo in connection with thisstrange sleep: and the third time---- "
"I divined that he was near," said Andrea, who began to understand hisinference.
"It is well," said Philip. "Now you may rest tranquil and abate not yourpride, Andrea: I know the secret. Thank you, dear sister, we are saved!"
He took her in his arms, pressed her affectionately to his heart, and,borne away by the fire of his determination, dashed out of the roomswithout awaiting or listening for anything.
He ran to the stables, saddled and bridled his steed with his own hands,and rode off at the top of speed to Paris.