The Wandering Jew — Complete
Such was the last thought of Cephyse. Using what little strength she had
left, she ran to the window and opened it--and, at the same instant
that the half-broken door yielded to a vigorous effort from without, the
unfortunate creature precipitated herself from that third story into the
court below. Just then, Adrienne and Agricola appeared on the threshold
of the chamber. In spite of the stifling odor of the charcoal, Mdlle. de
Cardoville rushed into the garret, and, seeing the stove, she exclaimed,
"The unhappy girl has killed herself!"
"No, she has thrown herself from the window," cried Agricola: for, at
the moment of breaking open the door, he had seen a human form disappear
in that direction, and he now ran to the window.
"Oh! this is frightful!" he exclaimed, with a cry of horror, as he put
his hand before his eyes, and returned pale and terrified to Mdlle. de
Cardoville.
But, misunderstanding the cause of his terror, Adrienne, who had just
perceived Mother Bunch through the darkness, hastened to answer: "No!
she is here."
And she pointed to the pale form stretched on the mattress, beside which
Adrienne now threw herself on her knees. Grasping the hands of the poor
sempstress, she found them as cold as ice. Laying her hand on her heart,
she could not feel it beat. Yet, in a few seconds, as the fresh air
rushed into the room from the door and window, Adrienne thought she
remarked an almost imperceptible pulsation, and she exclaimed: "Her
heart beats! Run quickly for help! Luckily, I have my smelling bottle."
"Yes, yes! help for her--and for the other too, if it is yet time!"
cried the smith in despair, as he rushed down the stairs, leaving Mdlle.
de Cardoville still kneeling by the side of the mattress.
BOOK X.
XXXIII. Confessions XXXIV. More Confessions XXXV. The Rivals
XXXVI. The Interview XXXVII. Soothing Words XXXVIII. The Two
Carriages XXXIX. The Appointment XL. Anxiety XLI. Adrienne
and Djalma XLII. "The Imitation" XLIII. Prayer XLIV.
Remembrances XLV. The Blockhead XLVI. The Anonymous Letters
XLVII. The Golden City XLVIII. The Stung Lion XLIX. The Test
CHAPTER XXXIII. CONFESSIONS.
During the painful scene that we have just described, a lively emotion
glowed in the countenance of Mdlle. de Cardoville, grown pale and thin
with sorrow. Her cheeks, once so full, were now slightly hollowed,
whilst a faint line of transparent azure encircled those large black
eyes, no longer so bright as formerly. But the charming lips, though
contracted by painful anxiety, had retained their rich and velvet
moisture. To attend more easily to Mother Bunch, Adrienne had thrown
aside her bonnet, and the silky waves of her beautiful golden hair
almost concealed her face as she bent over the mattress, rubbing the
thin, ivory hands of the poor sempstress, completely called to life by
the salubrious freshness of the air, and by the strong action of the
salts which Adrienne carried in her smelling-bottle. Luckily, Mother
Bunch had fainted, rather from emotion and weakness than from the
effects of suffocation, the senses of the unfortunate girl having
failed her before the deleterious gas had attained its highest degree of
intensity.
Before continuing the recital of the scene between the sempstress and
the patrician, a few retrospective words will be necessary. Since
the strange adventure at the theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin, where
Djalma, at peril of his life, rushed upon the black panther in sight of
Mdlle. de Cardoville, the young lady had been deeply affected in various
ways. Forgetting her jealousy, and the humiliation she had suffered in
presence of Djalma--of Djalma exhibiting himself before every one with a
woman so little worthy of him--Adrienne was for a moment dazzled by the
chivalrous and heroic action of the prince, and said to herself: "In
spite of odious appearances, Djalma loves me enough to brave death in
order to pick up my nosegay."
But with a soul so delicate as that of this young lady, a character so
generous, and a mind so true, reflection was certain soon to demonstrate
the vanity of such consolations, powerless to cure the cruel wounds of
offended dignity an love.
"How many times," said Adrienne to herself, and with reason, "has the
prince encountered, in hunting, from pure caprice and with no gain, such
danger as he braved in picking up my bouquet! and then, who tells me he
did not mean to offer it to the woman who accompanied him?"
Singular (it may be) in the eyes of the world, but just and great in
those of heaven, the ideas which Adrienne cherished with regard to love,
joined to her natural pride, presented an invincible obstacle to the
thought of her succeeding this woman (whoever she might be), thus
publicly displayed by the prince as his mistress. And yet Adrienne
hardly dared avow to herself, that she experienced a feeling of
jealousy, only the more painful and humiliating, the less her rival
appeared worthy to be compared to her.
At other times, on the contrary, in spite of a conscious sense of her
own value, Mdlle. de Cardoville, remembering the charming countenance of
Rose-Pompon, asked herself if the bad taste and improper manners of this
pretty creature resulted from precocious and depraved effrontery, or
from a complete ignorance of the usages of society. In the latter case,
such ignorance, arising from a simple and ingenuous nature, might in
itself have a great charm; and if to this attraction, combined with that
of incontestable beauty, were added sincere love and a pure soul, the
obscure birth, or neglected education of the girl might be of little
consequence, and she might be capable of inspiring Djalma with a
profound passion. If Adrienne hesitated to see a lost creature in
Rose-Pompon, notwithstanding unfavorable appearances, it was because,
remembering what so many travellers had related of Djalma's greatness of
soul, and recalling the conversation she had overheard between him
and Rodin, she could not bring herself to believe that a man of
such remarkable intelligence, with so tender a heart, so poetical,
imaginative and enthusiastic a mind could be capable of loving a
depraved and vulgar creature, and of openly exhibiting himself in public
along with her. There was a mystery in the transaction, which Adrienne
sought in vain to penetrate. These trying doubts, this cruel curiosity,
only served to nourish Adrienne's fatal love; and we may imagine her
incurable despair, when she found that the indifference, or even disdain
of Djalma, was unable to stifle a passion that now burned more fiercely
than ever. Sometimes, having recourse to notions of fatality, she
fancied that she was destined to feel this love; that Djalma must
therefore deserve it, and that one day whatever was incomprehensible in
the conduct of the prince would be explained to his advantage. At other
times, on the contrary, she felt ashamed of excusing Djalma, and the
consciousness of this weakness was for Adrienne a constant occasion
for remorse and torture. The victim of all these agonies, she lived in
perfect solitude.
The cholera soon broke out, startling as a clap of thunder. Too unhappy
to fear the pestilence on her own account, Adrienne was only moved by
the sorrows of others. She was amongst the first to contribute to those
charitable donations, which were now flowing in from all sides in the
admirable spirit of benevolence. Florine was suddenly attacked by the
epidemic. In spite of the danger, her mistress insisted on seeing her,
and endeavored to revive her failing courage. Conquered by this new mark
of kindness, Florine could no longer conceal the treachery in which she
had borne a part. Death was about to deliver her from the odious tyranny
of the people whose yoke weighed upon her, and she was at length in a
position to reveal everything to Adrienne. The latter thus learned how
she had been continually betrayed by Florine, and also the cause of the
sewing-girl's abrupt departure. At these revelations, Adrienne felt her
affection and tender pity for the poor sempstress greatly increase. By
her command, the most active steps were taken to discover traces of the
hunchback; but Florine's confession had a still more important result.
Justly alarmed at this new evidence of Rodin's machinations, Adrienne
remembered the projects formed, when, believing herself beloved, the
instinct of affection had revealed to her the perils to which Djalma and
other members of the Rennepont family were exposed. To assemble the
race around her, and bid them rally against the common enemy, such was
Adrienne's first thought, when she heard the confession of Florine. She
regarded it as a duty to accomplish this project. In a struggle with
such dangerous and powerful adversaries as Rodin, Father d'Aigrigny, and
the Princess de Saint-Dizier, and their allies, Adrienne saw not only
the praiseworthy and perilous task of unmasking hypocrisy and cupidity,
but also, if not a consolation, at least a generous diversion in the
midst of terrible sorrows.
From this moment, a restless, feverish activity took the place of the
mournful apathy in which the young lady had languished. She called round
her all the members of her family capable of answering the appeal, and,
as had been mentioned in the secret note delivered to Father d'Aigrigny,
Cardoville House soon became the centre of the most active and unceasing
operations, and also a place of meeting, in which the modes of attack
and defence were fully discussed. Perfectly correct in all points, the
secret note of which we have spoken stated, as a mere conjecture, that
Mdlle. de Cardoville had granted an interview to Djalma. This fact was
untrue, but the cause which led to the supposition will be explained
hereafter. Far from such being the case, Mdlle. de Cardoville scarcely
found, in attending to the great family interests now at stake, a
momentary diversion from the fatal love, which was slowly undermining
her health, and with which she so bitterly reproached herself.
The morning of the day on which Adrienne, at length discovering Mother
Bunch's residence, came so miraculously to rescue her from death,
Agricola Baudoin had been to Cardoville House to confer on the subject
of Francis Hardy, and had begged Adrienne to permit him to accompany her
to the Rue Clovis, whither they repaired in haste.
Thus, once again, there was a noble spectacle, a touching symbol! Mdlle.
de Cardoville and Mother Bunch, the two extremities of the social chain,
were united on equal terms--for the sempstress and the fair patrician
were equal in intelligence and heart--and equal also, because the one
was the ideal of riches, grace, and beauty, and the other the ideal
of resignation and unmerited misfortune--and does not a halo rest on
misfortune borne with courage and dignity? Stretched on her mattress,
the hunchback appeared so weak, that even if Agricola had not been
detained on the ground floor with Cephyse, now dying a dreadful death,
Mdlle. de Cardoville would have waited some time, before inducing Mother
Bunch to rise and accompany her to her carriage. Thanks to the presence
of mind and pious fraud of Adrienne, the sewing-girl was persuaded
that Cephyse had been carried to a neighboring hospital, to receive
the necessary succors, which promised to be crowned with success. The
hunchback's faculties recovering slowly from their stupor, she at first
received this fable without the least suspicion--for she did not even
know that Agricola had accompanied Mdlle. de Cardoville.
"And it is to you, lady, that Cephyse and I owe our lives," said she,
turning her mild and melancholy face towards Adrienne, "you, kneeling in
this garret, near this couch of misery, where I and my sister meant to