Kitabı oku: «Balsamo, the Magician; or, The Memoirs of a Physician», sayfa 13

CHAPTER XXXII
THE NUN'S HUSBAND

A deep silence long surrounded the two women, one in painful meditation, the other in astonishment readily understood.

"If you were removed out of the nunnery," said Lady Louise, to break this silence, "you are unaware of how it was done? Yet a convent is well enclosed and guarded, with bars to the windows, walls of height and a warder who keeps the keys. In Italy it is particularly so, where the regulations are stricter than in France."

"What can I tell your ladyship, when I puzzle my brains without finding a clue?"

"But if you saw this man, did you not blame him for the abduction?"

"I did, but he excused himself on the plea that he loved me. I told him that he frightened me, and that I was sure that I did not like him. The strange feeling is another kind. I am not myself when he is by, but his; whatever he wills, I must do; one look fascinates me and subdues me. You see, lady, this must be magic."

"At least, it is strange, if not supernatural," said the princess. "But you are in the company of this man?"

"Yes; but I do not love him."

"Then why not appeal to the authorities, your parents, the ecclesiastical powers?"

"He so watched me that I could not move."

"But you could have written."

"On the road, he stopped at houses where everything is owned by him and he is master of everybody. When I asked the people about for writing materials, they gave no answer; they were his bondwomen."

"But how did you travel?"

"At first in a postchaise; but at Milan, he had a kind of house on wheels to continue the journey in."

"Still, he must have left you alone sometimes?"

"Yes; but then he bade me sleep, and sleep I did, only waking up when he returned."

"You could not have strongly wanted to get away," observed Princess Louise, shaking her head, "or else you would have managed it."

"Alas! I was so fascinated."

"By his loving speech and endearments?"

"Seldom did he speak of love, and I remember me of no caresses save a kiss night and morning."

"Really, this is very strange?" muttered the abbess; but as a suspicion struck her, she resumed: "Repeat to me that you do not love him, and that as no worldly tie unites you, he would have no claim on you if he came."

"He has none."

"But tell me how you came here through all; for I am in a fog," said the princess.

"I took advantage of a violent thunderstorm, which broke on us near a town called Nancy, I believe. He left me to go into a part of his travelling house which is inhabited by an old man; I leaped upon his horse and fled. My resolution was to hide in Paris, or some great city where I could be lost to all eyes, especially to his. When I arrived here, all were talking of your highness' retirement into the Carmelite convent. All extolled your piety, solicitude for the unhappy, and compassion for the afflicted. This was a ray of heavenly light, showing me that you alone were generous enough to receive me and powerful enough to defend me."

"You continually appeal to power, my child, as though he were powerful?"

"I am ignorant what he is. I only know that no king inspires more respect – no idol commands more adoration – than he from those to whom he deigns to reveal himself."

"But his name – how is he entitled?"

"I have heard him called by many names. But only two remain in my memory. One is used by the old man who is his traveling companion from Milan to where I left him; the other that he gives himself. The aged man calls him Acharat, and that sounds anti-Christian, does it not, lady? He calls himself Joseph Balsamo."

"What does he say of himself?"

"He knows everything and divines what he knew not. He is the contemporary of all time. He has lived through all ages. He speaks – the Lord forgive me! and forgive him for such blasphemy! not only of Alexander the Great, Cæsar and Charlemagne, as though he had known them, albeit I believe they were dead ever so long ago, but also of the high priest Caiaphas, Pontius Pilate and Our Lord Himself, whose martyrdom he claims to have witnessed."

"He is some quack," said the Princess Louise.

"I do not clearly understand the word, madame; but he is a dangerous man, terrible too, before whom everything bends, snaps and crumbles away. When he is taken to be defenseless he is armed at all points; when believed alone, he stamps his foot and an army springs up; or at a beck of the finger – smiling the while."

"Very well," soothed the daughter of France; "take cheer, my child; you will be protected against him. So long as you desire the protection, of course. But do not believe any longer in these supernatural visions born of a sick brain. In any case the walls of St. Denis Abbey are a sure rampart against infernal power, and what is more to be dreaded, mark you! against human power. Now, what do you propose doing?"

"With this property of mine, in jewels, I mean to pay for my repose in a convent – if possible, in this one."

Lorenza placed on the table some twenty thousand crowns' worth of bracelets, rings and earrings of price.

"These jewels are mine, as Balsamo gave them to me, and I shall turn them over to Heaven's use. I have nothing of his but his steed Djerid, which was the instrument of my deliverance, but I should like him to have it. So I solicit the favor of staying here, on my knees."

"Rest easy, my child," said the lady superior; "from this time forth you may dwell among us; and when you shall have shown by your exemplary conduct that you deserve the favor, you may again be the bride of the Lord; and I will answer for it that you will not be removed out of St. Denis without knowledge of the superior."

Lorenza fell at the princess feet and poured forth the most affectionate and sincere thanks.

But suddenly she rose on one knee, and listened with trembling and pallor.

"Oh, God, how I shake! he is coming! he means to be my destroyer – that man is at hand. Do you not see how my limbs quiver?"

"I see this, indeed."

"Now I feel the stab in the heart," continued the Italian: "he comes nearer and nearer."

"You are mistaken."

"No, no. In spite of myself, he draws me to him. Hold me back from him."

Princess Louise seized the speaker in her arms.

"Recover your senses, child," she said. "Even if any one came, even he, you would be in safety here."

"He approaches – I tell you, he approaches," screamed Lorenza, terrified into inertia, but with her hands and her eyes directed toward the room door.

"Madness!" said the abbess. "Do you think that anybody can intrude on the Royal Lady of France? None but the bearer of an order from the king."

"I do not know how he entered," stammered the fugitive, recoiling, "but I am certain that he is coming up the stairs – he is not ten steps off – there he is!"

The door flew open, so that the princess receded, frightened in spite of herself by the odd coincidence. But it was a nun who appeared.

"What do you want – who is there?" cried her superior.

"Madame, it is a nobleman who presents himself to have speech with your royal highness."

"His title?"

"Count Fenix, please your highness."

"Do you know the name as his?" inquired the princess of the fugitive.

"I do not know the name, but it is he," she replied.

"Charged with a mission to the king of France from the king of Prussia," said the nun, "he wishes the honor of a hearing by your highness."

Princess Louise reflected an instant; then turning to Lorenza and bidding her go into her inner room, she ordered the sister to show in the visitor. She went and took her chair, waiting, not without emotion, for the sequel of the incident.

Almost instantly reappearing, the Carmelite ushered in a man whom we have seen under the title of Fenix, at the presentation of Jeanne Dubarry at court. He was garbed in the same Prussian uniform, of severe cut; he wore the military wig and the black stock; his expressive black eyes lowered in presence of Princess Louise, but only with the respect of any man for a princess of the royal house, whatever his rank. He raised them rapidly, as though he feared showing too much timidity.

"I thank your royal highness for the favor kindly done me," he said, "though I reckoned upon it from knowing that your highness always upholds the unfortunate."

"I endeavor so to do, my lord," replied the lady with dignity, for she hoped in ten minutes to defeat the man who impudently came to claim outside help to oppress where he had abused his powers.

The count bowed as if he did not see any hidden meaning in the rejoinder.

"What can I do for your lordship?" continued the lady in the same tone of irony.

"Everything. I should like your highness to believe that I would not without grave motives vex you in the solitude she has chosen, but you have sheltered a person in whom I am interested in all points."

"What is the name of this person?"

"Lorenza Feliciani."

"What is this person to you – a relative, sister?"

"She is my wife."

"Lorenza Feliciani, wife of Count Fenix!" said the abbess, raising her voice so as to be heard in the inner room. "No Countess Fenix is in St. Denis Abbey," she dryly added.

"It may be," said the count, who was not yet acknowledging his defeat, "that your highness is not persuaded that Lorenza and Countess Fenix are the same person. Kindly give the order that Lorenza shall be brought before you, and all doubt will cease. I ask pardon for being so persistent, but I am tenderly attached to this wife of mine, and I believe she is sorry we are separated, poor as is my merit."

"Ah!" thought the princess, "Lorenza spoke the truth, for this man is highly dangerous."

The count stood with a calm bearing, strictly according to court etiquette.

"I must prevaricate," thought Princess Louise, before she said: "My lord, I am not in the position to restore a wife who is not here. I understand your seeking her with such persistency, if you love her as dearly as you say; but you will have to seek elsewhere if you want success."

On entering, the count had glanced round the closet, and his gaze had caught a reflection, however slight, of the jewels placed by Lorenza on the little table in the darkest corner. By the sparkling Fenix recognized them.

"If your royal highness would kindly collect your memory, though I have to ask her to do such violence – it will be recalled that Lorenza Feliciani was here, for she laid those jewels on yonder table before she retired into the next room."

The princess colored up as the count continued:

"So that I wait solely for your highness' leave for me to order her to come forth, for I cannot doubt that she will immediately obey."

The abbess remembered that Lorenza had locked the door behind her, and consequently that she could not be prevailed upon except by her own will to come out. No longer trying to dissimulate her vexation at having been lying uselessly to this man, from whom nothing could be concealed, she said:

"Were she to enter, what would be done to her?"

"Nothing, your highness; she will merely tell you that she wishes to go with her husband."

This encouraged the princess, recalling the Italian woman's protests.

"It would seem that your highness does not believe me," said the count, in answer to her apparent indignation. "Is there anything incredible in Count Fenix marrying Lorenza Feliciani, and claiming his wife. I can easily lay before your royal highness's eyes the marriage certificate, properly signed by the priest who performed the ceremony."

The princess started, for such calmness shook her conviction. He opened a portfolio and took out a twice-folded paper.

"This is the proof of my claim on my wife," he said; "the signature ought to carry belief. It is that of the curate of St. John's in Strasburg, well-known to Prince Louis of Rohan for one, and were his eminence the cardinal here – "

"He is here at this very time," exclaimed the abbess, fastening fiery looks on the count. "His eminence has not left the abbey, where he is with the cathedral canons; so nothing is more easy than the verification you challenge."

"This is a great boon to me," said the count, coolly replacing the document in the pocket-book. "I hope this verification will dispel your royal highness' unjust suspicions against me."

"Indeed, impudence does disgust me," said the princess, ringing her hand bell quickly.

The nun in waiting entered hastily.

"Send my courier to carry this note to Cardinal Rohan, who is in the cathedral chapter. Let his eminence come hither, as I await him."

While speaking she scribbled a couple of lines on paper which she handed the nun, whispering:

"Post two archers of the rural guard in the corridor, and let not a soul issue without my leave. Go!"

The count had watched all the princess' preparations to fight out the battle with him. While she was writing, he approached the inner room, and he muttered some words while extending and working his hands in a movement more methodical than nervous, with his eyes fastened on the door. The princess, turning, caught him in the act.

"Madame," said the count, "I am adjuring Lorenza Feliciani to come personally and confirm by her own words and by her free will whether I am or not a forger and an impostor, without prejudice to the other proofs your highness may exact. Lorenza," called out the count, rising above all – even to the princess' will, "come forth!"

The key grated in the lock and the princess beheld with unspeakable apprehension the coming of the Italian beauty. Her eyes were fixed on the count, with no show of hatred or anger.

"What are you doing, child," faltered the Lady Louise, "and why do you come to the man whom you shunned? I told you that you were in safety there."

"She is also in safety in my house, my lady," replied the nobleman. "Are you not in safety there, Lorenza," he demanded of the refugee.

"Yes," was the other's answer.

At the height of amazement the princess clasped her hands and dropped into her chair.

"Lorenza," went on the count, in a soft voice but one with the accent of command, "I am accused of doing you violence. Tell me if I have ever acted so toward you?"

"Never," replied the woman, in a clear and precise voice but without any gesture accompanying the denial.

"Then what did the story about the abduction mean?" questioned the princess.

Lorenza remained dumb, but looking at the count as though all her life, and speech – which is its expression – must come from him.

"Her highness doubtless wishes to know how you came to leave your nunnery. Relate what happened from your fainting in the choir until you awoke in our postchaise."

"I remember," said Lorenza in the same monotonous voice.

"Speak, for I wish it."

"When I fainted, as the scissors touched my hair, I was carried into my cell, and placed in bed. My mother stayed with me until evening, when the village doctor declared that I was dead."

"How did you know this?" inquired the princess.

"Her highness wishes to know how you were aware of what went on," said the count.

"Strange thing!" said Lorenza, "I could see and hear but without having my eyes open. I was in a trance."

"In fact," said the abbess, "I have heard Doctor Tronchin speak of patients in catalepsy who were buried alive."

"Proceed Lorenza."

"My mother was in despair and would not believe in my death. She passed six-and thirty hours beside me, without my making a move or uttering a sigh. The priest came three times and told my mother that she was wrong to dispute the interment as her daughter had passed away just as she was speaking the vow, and that my soul had gone straight from the altar to heaven. But my mother insisted on watching all Monday night.

"Tuesday morning I was in the same insensibility, and my mother retired, vanquished. The nuns hooted her for the sacrilege.

"The death-candles were lighted in the chapel, where the custom was for the exposure of the body to repose a day and a night.

"I was shrouded, dressed in white, as I had not taken the vow; my hands crossed on my bosom, and a wreath of white blossoms placed on my brow.

"When the coffin was brought in, I felt a shiver pass over my body; for, I repeat, I saw all that happened as though I were my second self standing invisibly beside my counter-part.

"I was placed in the coffin, and after my time of lying in state, left with only the hospital sister to watch me.

"A dreadful thought tormented me in this lethargy – that I should be buried living on the morrow unless some interposition came.

"Each stroke of the time bell echoed in my heart, for I was listening – doleful idea! to my own death-knell.

"Heaven alone knows what efforts I made to break the iron bonds which held me down on the bier; but it had pity on me in my frozen sleep, since here I am.

"Midnight rang.

"At the first stroke, I felt that convulsion experienced whenever Acharat approached me; a shock came to my heart; I saw him appear in the chapel doorway."

"Was it fright that you felt?" asked Count Fenix.

"No, no; it was joy, bliss, ecstasy, for I knew that he came to tear me from the desperate death which I so abhorred. Slowly he came up to my coffin; he smiled on me as he gazed for a moment, and he said:

"'Are you glad to live? Then come with me.'

"All the bonds snapped at his call; I rose, extricated myself from the bier as from the grave clothes, and passed by the slumbering nun. I followed him who for the second time had snatched me from death.

"Out in the courtyard I beheld the sky spangled with stars which never more had I expected to see. I felt that cool night air which blesses not the dead, but which is so refreshing to the living.

"'Now,' said my liberator, 'before quitting the convent, choose between it and me. Will you be a nun, or will you be my wife?' I wanted to be his wife, and I followed him.

"The tower gate was closed and locked. He asked where were the keys, and as I said in the pocket of the wardress, who slept within, he sent me there to get them.

"Five minutes after we were in the street. I took his arm and we ran to the end of Subiaco village. A hundred paces beyond the last house a postchaise was waiting, all ready. We got in, and off it went at a gallop."

"And no violence was done you? No threat was proffered? You followed the man willingly?"

Lorenza remained mute.

"Her royal highness asks you, Lorenza, if by threat or act I forced you to follow me."

"No; I went because I loved you, darling."

With a triumphant smile, Count Fenix turned round to the royal princess.

CHAPTER XXXIII
COUNT AND CARDINAL

What took place under the princess-abbess' sight was so extraordinary that her mind, strong and yet tender, questioned if she did not face a true magician who disposed of sentiments and wills as he liked. But Count Fenix was not going to leave things thus.

"As your royal highness has heard only part of the story from my wife's lips, doubts might linger if the rest was not spoken by them. Dear Lorenza," he said, turning again to the Italian, "after leaving your country we went on a tour to the Alps and to the Rhine, the magnificent Tiber of the North – "

"Yes, Lorenza has seen these sights," said the woman.

"Lured by this man – led by a power resistless of which you spoke, my child?" suggested the princess.

"Why should your highness believe this when all you hear is to the contrary? I have a palpable proof in the letter my wife wrote me when I was obliged to leave her at Maintz. She sorrowed and longed for me, so that she wrote this note, which your highness may read."

She looked at the letter which the count took out of the letter case.

"Return, Acharat; for all goes when you leave me. When shall I have you for eternity? Lorenza."

With the flame of choler on her brow the princess went up to the fugitive, holding out this letter. The other allowed her to approach, without seeming to see or hear any but the count. "I understand," said the latter, decided to clear up matters completely. "Your highness doubts, and wishes to be sure the writing is Lorenza's. She herself shall enlighten you. Lorenza, answer; who wrote this note?"

On his putting the paper in her hand, she pressed it to her heart.

"It was Lorenza," she said.

"Lorenza knows what is in it?"

"Of course."

"Well, then, tell the princess what it says, that she may not believe that I deceive her in asserting that you love me. I want you to tell her."

Appearing to make an effort, but without looking at the note, unfolding it or bringing it to her eyes, she read, word for word, what the princess had seen without speaking it aloud.

"This is hard to believe," said the superior. "And I do not believe you, from what is supernatural and inexplicable in what happens."

"It was this very letter which determined me to hurry on our wedding," said Count Fenix, without heeding the interruption. "I love Lorenza as much as she loves me. In our roaming life, accidents might happen. If I died, I wanted my property to be my dear one's; so we were united when we reached Strasburg."

"But she told me that she was not your wife."

"Lorenza," said the count, without replying to the abbess, and turning to the Italian, "do you remember where and when we were married?"

"Yes; in the St. John's Chapel of Strasburg Cathedral, on the third of May."

"Did you oppose any resistance to the marriage?"

"No; I was only too happy."

"The fact is, Lorenza," continued the count, taking her hand, "the princess thinks you were constrained to it."

"I hate you?" she said, shivering all over with delight. "Oh, no; I love you. You are good, generous and mighty."

Seized with affright, the princess recoiled to where an ivory crucifix gleamed on a black velvet background.

"Is this all your highness wishes to know?" asked Fenix, letting Lorenza's hand fall.

"Keep away!" gasped the abbess; "and she, too!"

A carriage was heard to stop before the nunnery door.

"The cardinal?" exclaimed the lady superior; "we shall see how things stand at last."

Fenix bowed, said a few words to the Italian woman, and waited with the calmness of one who directs events.

In another instant the door opened and Cardinal Rohan was announced.

"Show him in," said the abbess, encouraged by the new addition to the party being a churchman.

The prince had no sooner saluted the princess than he exclaimed with surprise on seeing Balsamo:

"Are you here, my lord?"

"Are you acquaintances?" cried the princess, more and more astonished. "Then you can tell me who this is."

"Nothing is easier; the gentleman is a magician."

"His eminence will make this clear presently, and to everybody's satisfaction," said the count.

"Has the gentleman been telling your highness' fortune, that I see you so affected?" questioned the cardinal.

"The marriage certificate at once!" cried the princess, to the astonishment of the newcomer, ignorant of the allusion.

"What is this?"

"My lord, the question is, whether this paper is real and the signature valid?" said the princess, as Balsamo held out the document.

Rohan read the paper as presented by the abbess and nodded.

"It is in proper form, and the signature is Curate Saint-Remy's, of St. John's, Strasburg, one of my appointees. But what does this matter to your highness?"

"Considerable; but – "

"The signature might have been extorted."

"True, that is possible," said the princess.

"How about Lorenza's consent, then?" said the count, sarcastically.

"By what means could a priest have been induced – "

"By the magic in the gentleman's powers."

"Your eminence is jesting."

"Not at all, and the proof is that I want to have a serious explanation from this gentleman. Do not forget, my lord, that I shall do all the questioning," added the cardinal, with haughtiness.

"And remember that I was quite willing to answer aloud, even before her royal highness – if your eminence desired so; but I am certain you will not desire it."

The cardinal had to smile.

"My lord," said he, "it is hard to play the wizard nowadays. I have seen you perform, and with great success; but everybody has not the patience, and still less the generosity, of the dauphiness."

"The dauphiness?" queried Princess Louise.

"Yes, your highness, I had the honor of presentation to her," said the count.

"But how did you repay the honor? Answer that, my lord."

"Alas, with more evil than I liked," said Fenix, "for I have no personal hate to men, and less to women. My misfortune was that I was compelled to tell your august niece the truth she craved."

"A piece of truthfulness which caused her to faint."

"Is it fault of mine," retorted the mesmerist, in that voice which he could sometimes make thunderous, "that truth is so awful as to produce such effects? Did I seek out the princess, and beg to be presented to her? No, I was avoiding her, when they almost dragged me before her, and she ordered me to answer her interrogation."

"But what was the dreadful truth you told her, my lord?" inquired the princess.

"She saw it in the gap which I tore in the veil over the future," rejoined the mysterious man. "That future which has appeared so awful to your royal highness that you have fled into a cloister to wrestle against it at the altar with tears and prayers. Is it fault of mine, I say, if this future, revealed to you as a holy woman, should be shown to me as a precursor; and if the dauphiness, alarmed at the fate personally threatening her, swooned when it loomed upon her?"

"Do you hear this?" said the cardinal.

"Woe is me!" moaned the Carmelite superior.

"For her reign is doomed as the most fatal and unfortunate of the entire monarchy," continued the count.

"My lord!" cried the abbess.

"Perchance your prayers will earn your grace," proceeded the prophet, "but then you will see nothing of what comes to pass, as you will rest in the arms of the angels. Pray, lady; continue to pray!"

Overcome by this prophetic voice, which harmonized so well with the terrors in her soul, the princess dropped kneeling before the crucifix and began indeed to pray, and with fervor.

"Now, our turn, cardinal," said the count turning to the prince, and leading him into a window recess. "Speak as to your want of me."

"I want to know what you are?"

"You do know – you say that I am a magician."

"I mean that you are called Joseph Balsamo in the south; and here, Count Fenix."

"That merely proves that I change my name."

"Yes; but I would have you know that such changes on the part of such a man will set Chief of Police Sartines to thinking."

"This is petty warfare for a Rohan," said the other, smiling.

"Your eminence stoops to wrangle over words. Verba et voces, says the Latin. Is there nothing worse to fling at me?"

"You are railing, my lord."

"Always; it is my style."

"Then I shall make you change your note; which will help me in the good graces of the dauphiness, whom you have offended."

"Do so, as it will not be a useless act, considering the delicate ground on which you stand as regards her," returned Balsamo phlegmatically.

"What will you say if I have you arrested straightway, my lord the horoscopist?"

"You would do yourself injury, my lord cardinal."

"Really! How do you make that out?" demanded the proud peer with crushing scorn.

"You would unmake yourself."

"At least, we shall know who really is Baron Joseph Balsamo, alias Count Fenix, a sprig of a family tree of which I have never seen the picture in any heraldic work in Europe."

"You should have asked to see it in the portfolio of the Duke of Breteuil, your friend – "

"His grace is no friend of mine."

"He was, and an intimate one, or your eminence would never have written him that letter – but draw closer, my lord, lest we are overheard in what may compromise you! – that letter written from Vienna to Paris to dissuade the dauphin from making his marriage."

"That letter!" gasped the prince, starting with fright.

"I know it by heart."

"Breteuil has betrayed? because he said it was – burned when I asked it back, when the marriage was settled."

"He did not like to admit that he had lost it. A lost letter may be found; and, indeed, I found it in the Marble Court at Versailles. I took good care not to restore it to the duke, for I knew your eminence was ill-disposed toward me. If you were going through the woods and expected highwaymen to attack you, and you found a loaded pistol, would you not pick it up to use it? A man would be an idiot not to do so."

The cardinal felt giddy and leaned on the window-sill. After hesitation, during which the count watched the play of his features, he said:

"Granted thus. But it shall never be said that a prince of my line yielded to the threats of a mountebank. Though this letter may have been lost, and found, and will be shown to the dauphiness herself, and may ruin me as a politician, I will stand to it that I am still a loyal subject and a faithful ambassador. I will speak the truth – that I thought the alliance injurious to the interests of my country, and let it defend me or blame me."

"But what will be the answer of this faithful subject and loyal envoy if somebody asserts that this gallant young beau of an ambassador, never doubting his winning all before him with his title of prince and name of Rohan, did not say this from any opinion that the alliance would be hurtful to his country, but because – being graciously welcomed by Marie Antoinette – this coxcomb of an envoy had the vanity to think the feast was fitter for Jack than his master?"

"He would deny; for of this feeling which you pretend to have existed, no proof can be exhibited."

"You are wrong; the token is in the dauphiness' coldness toward you."

The cardinal wavered.

"Believe me, prince," went on the count, "instead of quarreling, as we should have done, only for my having more prudence than you, we had better be friends – good ones, for such do one another service."

"Have I ever asked aught of your lordship?"

"Just there you are wrong; for you might have called on me during the two days you spent in town. You cannot conceal from a sorcerer what you have been about. You left the Austrian princess at Soissons, whence you rushed posthaste to Paris, where you dunned your friends for help, which they all refused you. This left you desperate."