The Wandering Jew — Complete
would be drunk for a week in some low den. It was thus we had to pay
him twice over for his virulent attack on the pantheistic tendencies of
Professor Martin's philosophy."
"Take note of it--and go on!"
"The merchant announces that the clerk is about to send the banker to
give in his accounts. You understand?' added Rodin, after pronouncing
these words with a marked emphasis.
"Perfectly," said the other, with a start; "they are but the expressions
agreed on. What next?"
"But the clerk," continued the secretary, "is restrained by a last
scruple."
After a moment's silence, during which the features of Rodin's master
worked strongly, he thus resumed: "They must continue to act on the
clerk's mind by silence and solitude; then, let him read once more the
list of cases in which regicide is authorized and absolved. Go on!"
"The woman Sydney writes from Dresden, that she waits for instructions.
Violent scenes of jealousy on her account have again taken place between
the father and son; but neither from these new bursts of mutual hatred,
nor from the confidential communications which each has made to her
against his rival, has she yet been able to glean the information
required. Hitherto, she has avoided giving the preference to one or the
other; but, should this situation be prolonged, she fears it may rouse
their suspicion. Which ought she then to choose--the father or the son?"
"The son--for jealous resentment will be much more violent and cruel in
the old man, and, to revenge himself for the preference bestowed upon
his son, he will perhaps tell what they have both such an interest to
conceal. The next?"
"Within the last three years, two maid-servants of Ambrosius whom
we placed in that little parish in the mountains of the Valais, have
disappeared, without any one knowing what has become of them. A third
has just met with the same fate. The Protestants of the country are
roused--talk of murder with frightful attendant circumstances--"
"Until there is proof positive and complete of the fact, Ambrosius must
be defended against these infamous calumnies, the work of a party that
never shrinks from; monstrous inventions. Go on!"
"Thompson, of Liverpool, has at length succeeded in procuring for Justin
the place of agent or manager to Lord Stewart, a rich Irish Catholic,
whose head grows daily weaker."
"Let the fact be once verified, and Thompson shall have a premium of
fifty louis. Make a note of it for Duplessis. Proceed."
"Frantz Dichstein, of Vienna," resumed Rodin, "announces that his father
has just died of the cholera, in a little village at some leagues from
that city: for the epidemic continues to advance slowly, coming from the
north of Russia by way of Poland."
"It is true," said Rodin's master, interrupting him; "may its terrible
march be stayed, and France be spared."
"Frantz Dichstein," resumed Rodin, "says that his two brothers are
determined to contest the donation made by his father, but that he is of
an opposite opinion."
"Consult the two persons that are charged with all matters of
litigation. What next?"
"The Cardinal Prince d'Amalfi will conform to the three first points of
the proposal: he demands to make a reservation upon the fourth point."
"No reserve!--Either full and absolute acceptance--or else war--and
(mark me well) war without mercy--on him and his creatures. Go on!"
"Fra Paolo announces that the Prince Boccari, chief of a redoubtable
secret society, in despair at seeing his friends accuse him of
treachery, in consequence of suspicions excited in their minds by Fra
Paolo himself, has committed suicide."
"Boccari! is it possible?" cried Rodin's master. "Boccari! the patriot
Boccari! so dangerous a person!"
"The patriot Boccari," repeated the impassible secretary.
"Tell Duplessis to send an order for five-and-twenty louis to Fra Paolo.
Make a note of it."
"Hausman informs us that the French dancer, Albertine Ducornet, is the
mistress of the reigning prince; she has the most complete influence
over him, and it would be easy through her means to arrive at the end
proposed, but that she is herself governed by her lover (condemned in
France as a forger), and that she does nothing without consulting him."
"Let Hausman get hold of this man--if his claims are reasonable, accede
to them--and learn if the girl has any relations in Paris."
"The Duke d'Orbano announces, that the king his master will authorize
the new establishment, but on the conditions previously stated."
"No condition!--either a frank adhesion or a positive refusal. Let
us know our friends from our enemies. The more unfavorable the
circumstances, the more we must show firmness, and overbear opposition
by confidence in ourselves."
"The same also announces, that the whole of the corps diplomatique
continues to support the claims of the father of that young Protestant
girl, who refuses to quit the convent where she has taken refuge, unless
it be to marry her lover against her father's will."
"Ah! the corps diplomatique continues to remonstrate in the father's
name?"
"Yes."
"Then, continue to answer, that the spiritual power has nothing to do
with the temporal."
At this moment, the bell of the outer door again sounded twice. "See who
it is," said Rodin's master; and the secretary rose and left the room.
The other continued to walk thoughtfully up and down, till, coming near
to the huge globe, he stopped short before it.
For some time he contemplated, in profound silence, the innumerable
little red crosses, which appeared to cover, as with an immense net, all
the countries of the earth. Reflecting doubtless on the invisible action
of his power, which seemed to extend over the whole world, the features
of this man became animated, his large gray eye sparkled, his nostrils
swelled, and his manly countenance assumed an indescribable expression
of pride, energy, and daring. With haughty brow and scornful lip, he
drew still nearer to the globe, and leaned his strong hand upon the
pole.
This powerful pressure, an imperious movement, as of one taking
possession, seemed to indicate, that he felt sure of governing this
globe, on which he looked down from the height of his tall figure,
and on which he rested his hand with so lofty and audacious an air of
sovereignty.
But now he no longer smiled. His eye threatened, and his large forehead
was clad with a formidable scowl. The artist, who had wished to
paint the demon of craft and pride, the infernal genius of insatiable
domination, could not have chosen a more suitable model.
When Rodin returned, the face of his master had recovered its ordinary
expression. "It is the postman," said Rodin, showing the letters which
he held in his hand; "there is nothing from Dunkirk."
"Nothing?" cried his master--and his painful emotion formed a
strange contrast to his late haughty and implacable expression of
countenance--"nothing? no news of my mother?--Thirty-six hours more,
then, of anxiety."
"It seems to me, that, if the princess had bad news to give, she would
have written. Probably the improvement goes on."
"You are doubtless right, Rodin--but no matter--I am far from easy. If,
to-morrow, the news should not be completely satisfactory, I set out for
the estate of the princess. Why would my mother pass the autumn in that
part of the country? The environs of Dunkirk do not, I fear, agree with
her."
After a few moments' silence, he added, as he continued to walk:
"Well--these letters--whence are they?"
Rodin looked at the post-marks, and replied: "Out of the four there are
three relative to the great and important affairs of the medals."
"Thank heaven!--provided the news be favorable," cried his master,
with an expression of uneasiness, which showed how much importance he
attached to this affair.
"One is from Charlestown, and no doubt relative to Gabriel, the
missionary," answered Rodin; "this other from Batavia, and no doubt
concerns the Indian, Djalma. The third is from Leipsic, and will
probably confirm that received yesterday, in which the lion-tamer,
Morok, informed us, that, in accordance with his orders, and without his
being compromised in any way, the daughters of General Simon would not
be able to continue their journey."
At the name of General Simon, a cloud passed over the features of
Rodin's master.
CHAPTER XVI. THE ORDERS.
The principal houses correspond with that in Paris; they are also
in direct communication with the General, who resides at Rome. The
correspondence of the Jesuits so active, various, and organized in so
wonderful a manner, has for its object to supply the heads with all the
information they can require. Every day, the General receives a host
of reports, which serve to check one another. In the central house, at
Rome, are immense registers, in which are inscribed the names of all
the Jesuits, of their adherents, and of all the considerable persons,
whether friends or enemies, with whom they have any connection. In these
registers are reported, without alteration, hatred or passion the
facts relating to the life of each individual. It is the most gigantic
biographical collection that has ever been formed. The frailties of a
woman, the secret errors of a statesman, are chronicled in this book
with the same cold impartiality. Drawn up for the purpose of being
useful, these biographies are necessarily exact. When the Jesuits wish
to influence an individual, they have but to turn to this book, and they
know immediately his life, his character, his parts, his faults, his
projects, his family, his friends, his most sacred ties. Conceive,
what a superior facility of action this immense police-register, which
includes the whole world, must give to any one society! It is not
lightly that I speak of these registers; I have my facts from a person
who has seen this collection, and who is perfectly well acquainted with
the Jesuits. Here then, is matter to reflect on for all those families,
who admit freely into their houses the members of a community that
carries its biographical researches to such a point. (Libri, Member of
the Institute. Letters on the Clergy.)
When he had conquered the involuntary emotion which the name or
remembrance of General Simon had occasioned, Rodin's master said to the
secretary: "Do not yet open the letters from Leipsic, Charlestown, and
Batavia; the information they contain will doubtless find its place
presently. It will save our going over the same ground twice."
The secretary looked inquiringly at his master.
The latter continued--"Have you finished the note relating to the
medals?"
"Here it is," replied the secretary; "I was just finishing my
interpretation of the cipher."
"Read it to me, in the order of the facts. You can append to it the news
contained in those three letters."
"True," said Rodin; "in that way the letters will find their right
place."
"I wish to see," rejoined the other, "whether this note is clear and
fully explanatory; you did not forget that the person it is intended for
ought not to know all?"
"I bore it in mind, and drew up the paper accordingly."
"Read," said the master.
M. Rodin read as follows, slowly and deliberately:
"'A hundred and fifty years ago, a French Protestant family, foreseeing
the speedy--revocation of the edict of Nantes, went into voluntary
exile, in order to avoid the just and rigorous decrees already issued
against the members of the reformed church--those indomitable foes of
our holy religion.
"'Some members of this family sought refuge in Holland, and afterwards
in the Dutch colonies; others in Poland, others in Germany; some in
England, and some in America.
"'It is supposed that only seven descendants remain of this family,