The Wandering Jew — Complete
you will one day permit me to thank you, at my own home, not for the
justice you have done me, but for the benevolent and paternal manner in
which you have done it. And moreover, sir," added Mdlle. de Cardoville,
with a sweet smile, "I should like to prove to you, that what they call
my cure is complete."
M. de Gernande bowed respectfully in reply. During the abort dialogue of
the magistrate with Adrienne, their backs were both turned to Baleinier
and Rodin. The latter, profiting by this moment's opportunity, hastily
slipped into the doctor's hand a note just written with a pencil in the
bottom of his hat. Baleinier looked at Rodin in stupefied amazement. But
the latter made a peculiar sign, by raising his thumb to his forehead,
and drawing it twice across his brow. Then he remained impassible. This
had passed so rapidly, that when M. de Gernande turned round, Rodin was
at a distance of several steps from Dr. Baleinier, and looking at Mdlle.
de Cardoville with respectful interest.
"Permit me to accompany you, sir," said the doctor, preceding the
magistrate, whom Mdlle. de Cardoville saluted with much affability. Then
both went out, and Rodin remained alone with the young lady.
After conducting M. de Gernande to the outer door of the house, M.
Baleinier made haste to read the pencil-note written by Rodin; it ran as
follows: "The magistrate is going to the convent, by way of the street.
Run round by the garden, and tell the Superior to obey the order I
have given with regard to the two young girls. It is of the utmost
importance."
The peculiar sign which Rodin had made, and the tenor of this note,
proved to Dr. Baleinier, who was passing from surprise to amazement,
that the secretary, far from betraying the reverend father, was still
acting for the Greater Glory of the Lord. However, whilst he obeyed the
orders, M. Baleinier sought in vain to penetrate the motives of Rodin's
inexplicable conduct, who had himself informed the authorities of an
affair that was to have been hushed up, and that might have the most
disastrous consequences for Father d'Aigrigny, Madame de Saint-Dizier,
and Baleinier himself. But let us return to Rodin, left alone with
Mdlle, de Cardoville.
CHAPTER XXXIV. FATHER D'AIGRIGNY'S SECRETARY.
Hardly had the magistrate and Dr. Baleinier disappeared, than Mdlle. de
Cardoville, whose countenance was beaming with joy, exclaimed, as she
looked at Rodin with a mixture of respect and gratitude, "At length,
thanks to you, sir, I am free--free! Oh, I had never before felt
how much happiness, expansion, delight, there is in that adorable
word--liberty!"
Her bosom rose and fell, her rosy nostrils dilated, her vermilion lips
were half open, as if she again inhaled with rapture pure and vivifying
air.
"I have been only a few days in this horrible place," she resumed, "but
I have suffered enough from my captivity to make me resolve never to let
a year pass without restoring to liberty some poor prisoners for debt.
This vow no doubt appears to belong a little to the Middle Ages,"
added she, with a smile; "but I would fain borrow from that noble epoch
something more than its old windows and furniture. So, doubly thanks,
sir!--for I take you as a partner in that project of deliverance, which
has just (you see) unfolded itself in the midst of the happiness I owe
to you, and by which you seem so much affected. Oh! let my joy speak my
gratitude, and pay you for your generous aid!" exclaimed the young girl
with enthusiasm.
Mdlle. de Cardoville had truly remarked a complete transfiguration in
the countenance of Rodin. This man, lately so harsh, severe, inflexible,
with regard to Dr. Baleinier, appeared now under the influence of the
mildest and most tender sentiments. His little, half-veiled eyes were
fixed upon Adrienne with an expression of ineffable interest. Then, as
if he wished to tear himself from these impressions, he said, speaking
to himself, "Come, come, no weakness. Time is too precious; my mission
is not fulfilled. My dear young lady," added he, addressing himself to
Adrienne, "believe what I say--we will talk hereafter of gratitude--but
we have now to talk of the present so important for you and your family.
Do you know what is taking place?"
Adrienne looked at the Jesuit with surprise, and said, "What is taking
place, sir?"
"Do you know the real motive of your imprisonment in this house? Do you
know what influenced the Princess de Saint-Dizier and Abbe d'Aigrigny?"
At the sound of those detested names, Mdlle. de Cardoville's face,
now so full of happiness, became suddenly sad, and she answered with
bitterness, "It is hatred, sir, that no doubt animated Madame de
Saint-Dizier against me."
"Yes, hatred; and, moreover, the desire to rob you with impunity of an
immense fortune."
"Me, sir! how?"
"You must be ignorant, my dear young lady, of the interest you had to be
in the Rue Saint-Francois on the 13th February, for an inheritance?"
"I was ignorant, sir, of the date and details: but I knew by some family
papers, and thanks to an extraordinary circumstance, that one of our
ancestors--"
"Had left an enormous sum to be divided between his descendants; is it
not so?"
"Yes, sir."
"But what unfortunately you did not know, my dear young lady, was that
the heirs were all bound to be present at a certain hour on the 13th
February. This day and hour once past, the absent would forfeit their
claim. Do you now understand why you have been imprisoned here, my dear
young lady?"
"Yes, yes; I understand it," cried Mdlle. de Cardoville; "cupidity was
added to the hatred which my aunt felt for me. All is explained. Marshal
Simon's daughters, having the same right as I had have, like me, been
imprisoned."
"And yet," cried Rodin, "you and they were not the only victims."
"Who, then, are the others, sir?"
"A young East Indian."
"Prince Djalma?" said Adrienne, hastily.
"For the same reason he has been nearly poisoned with a narcotic."
"Great God!" cried the young girl, clasping her hands in horror. "It is
fearful. That young prince, who was said to have so noble and generous a
character! But I had sent to Cardoville Castle--"
"A confidential person, to fetch the prince to Paris--I know it, my dear
young lady; but, by means of a trick, your friend was got out of the
way, and the young Oriental delivered to his enemies."
"And where is he now?"
"I have only vague information on the subject. I know that he is in
Paris, and do not despair of finding him. I shall pursue my researches
with an almost paternal ardor, for we cannot too much love the rare
qualities of that poor king's son. What a heart, my dear young lady!
what a heart! Oh, it is a heart of gold, pure and bright as the gold of
his country!"
"We must find the prince, sir," said Adrienne with emotion; "let me
entreat you to neglect nothing for that end. He is my relation--alone
here--without support--without assistance."
"Certainly," replied Rodin, with commiseration. "Poor boy!--for he is
almost a boy--eighteen or nineteen years of age--thrown into the
heart of Paris, of this hell--with his fresh, ardent, half-savage
passions--with his simplicity and confidence--to what perils may he not
be exposed?"
"Well, we must first find him, sir," said Adrienne, hastily; "and then
we will save him from these dangers. Before I was confined here, I
learned his arrival in France, and sent a confidential person to offer
him the services of an unknown friend. I now see that this mad idea,
with which I have been so much reproached, was a very sensible one. I am
more convinced of it than ever. The prince belongs to my family, and
I owe him a generous hospitality. I had destined for him the lodge I
occupied at my aunt's."
"And you, my dear young lady?"
"To-day, I shall remove to a house, which I had prepared some time ago,
with the determination of quitting Madame de Saint-Dizier, and living
alone as I pleased. Then, sir, as you seem bent upon being the good
genius of our family, be as generous with regard to Prince Djalma, as
you have been to me and Marshal Simon's daughters. I entreat you to
discover the hiding-place of this poor king's son, as you call him; keep
my secret for me, and conduct him to the house offered by the unknown
friend. Let him not disquiet himself about anything; all his wants shall
be provided for; he shall live--like a prince."
"Yes; he will indeed live like a prince, thanks to your royal
munificence. But never was such kind interest better deserved. It is
enough to see (as I have seen) his fine, melancholy countenance--"
"You have seen him, then, sir?" said Adrienne, interrupting Rodin.
"Yes, my dear young lady; I was with him for about two hours. It was
quite enough to judge of him. His charming features are the mirror of
his soul."
"And where did you see him, sir?"
"At your old Chateau de Cardoville, my dear young lady, near which he
had been shipwrecked in a storm, and whither I had gone to--" Rodin
hesitated for a moment, and then, as if yielding to the frankness of
his disposition, added: "Whither I had gone to commit a bad action--a
shameful, miserable action, I must confess!"
"You, sir?--at Cardoville House--to commit a bad action?" cried
Adrienne, much surprised.
"Alas! yes, my dear young lady," answered Rodin with simplicity. "In one
word, I had orders from Abbe d'Aigrigny, to place your former bailiff in
the alternative either of losing his situation or lending himself to a
mean action--something, in fact, that resembled spying and calumny; but
the honest, worthy man refused."
"Why, who are you, sir?" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, more and more
astonished.
"I am Rodin, lately secretary of the Abbe d'Aigrigny--a person of very
little importance, as you see."
It is impossible to describe the accent, at once humble and ingenuous,
of the Jesuit, as he pronounced these words, which he accompanied with
a respectful bow. On this revelation, Mdlle. de Cardoville drew back
abruptly. We have said that Adrienne had sometimes heard talk of Rodin,
the humble secretary of the Abbe d'Aigrigny, as a sort of obedient and
passive machine. That was not all; the bailiff of Cardoville Manor,
writing to Adrienne on the subject of Prince Djalma, had complained of
the perfidious and dishonest propositions of Rodin. She felt, therefore,
a vague suspicion, when she heard that her liberator was the man who had
played so odious a part. Yet this unfavorable feeling was balanced by
the sense of what she owed to Rodin, and by his frank denunciation of
Abbe d'Aigrigny before the magistrate. And then the Jesuit, by his own
confession, had anticipated, as it were, the reproaches that might have
been addressed to him. Still, it was with a kind of cold reserve that
Mdlle. de Cardoville resumed this dialogue, which she had commenced with
as much frankness as warmth and sympathy.
Rodin perceived the impression he had made. He expected it. He was not
the least disconcerted when Mdlle. de Cardoville said to him, as she
fixed upon him a piercing glance, "Ah! you are M. Rodin--secretary to
the Abbe d'Aigrigny?"
"Say ex-secretary, if you please, my dear young lady," answered the
Jesuit; "for you see clearly that I can never again enter the house of
the Abbe d'Aigrigny. I have made of him an implacable enemy, and I am
now without employment--but no matter--nay, so much the better--since,
at this price, the wicked are unmasked, and honest people rescued."
These words, spoken with much simplicity, and dignity, revived a feeling
of pity in Adrienne's heart. She thought within herself that, after all,
the poor old man spoke the truth. Abbe d'Aigrigny's hate, after this
exposure, would be inexorable, and Rodin had braved it for the sake of a
generous action.