The Wandering Jew — Complete
Adrienne was so completely ignorant of the forms of a constitutional
government, and had so blind a confidence in the doctor, that she did
not doubt for an instant what he told her. She therefore resumed with
joy: "What happiness it will be! when I go to fetch the daughters of
Marshal Simon, to be able to console this workman's mother, who is now
perhaps in a state of cruel anxiety, at not seeing her son return home!"
"Yes, you will have this pleasure," said M. Baleinier, with a smile;
"for we will solicit and intrigue to such purpose, that the good, mother
may learn from you the release of her son before she even knows that he
has been arrested."
"How kind, how obliging you are!" said Adrienne. "Really, if the motive
were not so serious, I should be ashamed of making you lose so much
precious time, my dear M. Baleinier. But I know your heart."
"I have no other wish, than to prove to you my profound devotion, my
sincere attachment," said the doctor inhaling a pinch of snuff. But
at the same time, he cast an uneasy glance through the window, for the
carriage was just crossing the Place de l'Odeon, and in spite of
the snow, he could see the front of the Odeon theatre brilliantly
illuminated. Now Adrienne, who had just turned her head towards that
side, might perhaps be astonished at the singular road they were taking.
In order to draw off her attention by a skillful diversion, the doctor
exclaimed suddenly: "Bless me! I had almost forgotten."
"What is the matter, M. Baleinier?" said Adrienne, turning hastily
towards him.
"I had forgotten a thing of the highest importance, in regard to the
success of our petition."
"What is it, please?" asked the young girl, anxiously.
M. Baleinier gave a cunning smile. "Every man," said he, "has his
weakness--ministers even more than others. The one we are going to visit
has the folly to attach the utmost importance to his title, and the
first impression would be unfavorable, if you did not lay great stress
on the Minister."
"Is that all, my dear M. Baleinier?" said Adrienne, smiling in her turn.
"I will even go so far as Your Excellency, which is, I believe, one of
his adopted titles."
"Not now--but that is no matter; if you could even slide in a My Lord or
two, our business would be done at once."
"Be satisfied! since there are upstart ministers as well as City-turned
gentlemen, I will remember Moliere's M. Jourdain, and feed full the
gluttonous vanity of your friend."
"I give him up to you, for I know he will be in good hands," replied the
physician, who rejoiced to see that the carriage had now entered those
dark streets which lead from the Place de l'Odeon to the Pantheon
district; "I do not wish to find fault with the minister for being
proud, since his pride may be of service to us on this occasion."
"These petty devices are innocent enough," said Mdlle. de Cardoville,
"and I confess that I do not scruple to have recourse to them." Then,
leaning towards the door-sash, she added: "Gracious! how sad and dark
are these streets. What wind! what snow! In which quarter are we?"
"What! are you so ungrateful, that you do not recognize by the absence
of shops, your dear quarter of the Faubourg Saint Germain?"
"I imagine we had quitted it long ago."
"I thought so too," said the physician, leaning forward as if to
ascertain where they were, "but we are still there. My poor coachman,
blinded by the snow, which is beating against his face, must have gone
wrong just now--but we are all right again. Yes, I perceive we are in
the Rue Saint Guillaume--not the gayest of streets by the way--but, in
ten minutes, we shall arrive at the minister's private entrance, for
intimate friends like myself enjoy the privilege of escaping the honors
of a grand reception."
Mdlle. de Cardoville, like most carriage-people, was so little
acquainted with certain streets of Paris, as well as with the customs
of men in office, that she did not doubt for a moment the statements of
Baleinier, in whom she reposed the utmost confidence.
When they left the Saint-Dizier House, the doctor had upon his lips a
question which he hesitated to put, for fear of endangering himself in
the eyes of Adrienne. The latter had spoken of important interests, the
existence of which had been concealed from her. The doctor, who was
an acute and skillful observer, had quite clearly remarked the
embarrassment and anxiety of the princess and D'Aigrigny. He no longer
doubted, that the plot directed against Adrienne--one in which he was
the blind agent, in submission to the will of the Order--related to
interests which had been concealed from him, and which, for that very
reason, he burned to discover; for every member of the dark conspiracy
to which he belonged had necessarily acquired the odious vices inherent
to spies and informers--envy, suspicion, and jealous curiosity.
It is easy to understand, therefore, that Dr. Baleinier, though quite
determined to serve the projects of D'Aigrigny, was yet very anxious
to learn what had been kept from him. Conquering his irresolution, and
finding the opportunity favorable, and no time to be lost, he said to
Adrienne, after a moment's silence: "I am going perhaps to ask you a
very indiscreet question. If you think it such, pray do not answer."
"Nay--go on, I entreat you."
"Just now--a few minutes before the arrival of the commissary of police
was announced to your aunt--you spoke, I think, of some great interests,
which had hitherto been concealed from you."
"Yes, I did so."
"These words," continued M. Baleinier, speaking slowly and emphatically,
"appeared to make a deep impression on the princess."
"An impression so deep," said Adrienne, "that sundry suspicions of mine
were changed to certainty."
"I need not tell you, my charming friend," resumed M. Baleinier, in a
bland tone, "that if I remind you of this circumstance, it is only to
offer you my services, in case they should be required. If not--and
there is the shadow of impropriety in letting me know more--forget that
I have said a word."
Adrienne became serious and pensive, and, after a silence of some
moments, she thus answered Dr. Baleinier: "On this subject, there are
some things that I do not know--others that I may tell you--others again
that I must keep from you: but you are so kind to-day, that I am happy
to be able to give you a new mark of confidence."
"Then I wish to know nothing," said the doctor, with an air of humble
deprecation, "for I should have the appearance of accepting a kind of
reward; whilst I am paid a thousand times over, by the pleasure I feel
in serving you."
"Listen," said Adrienne, without attending to the delicate scruples of
Dr. Baleinier; "I have powerful reasons for believing that an immense
inheritance must, at no very distant period, be divided between
the members of my family, all of whom I do not know--for, after the
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, those from whom we are descended
were dispersed in foreign countries, and experienced a great variety of
fortunes."
"Really!" cried the doctor, becoming extremely interested. "Where is
this inheritance, in whose hands?"
"I do not know."
"Now how will you assert your rights?"
"That I shall learn soon."
"Who will inform you of it?"
"That I may not tell you."
"But how did you find out the existence of this inheritance?"
"That also I may not tell you," returned Adrienne, in a soft and
melancholy tone, which remarkably contrasted with the habitual vivacity
of her conversation. "It is a secret--a strange secret--and in those
moments of excitement, in which you have sometimes surprised me, I have
been thinking of extraordinary circumstances connected with this secret,
which awakened within me lofty and magnificent ideas."
Adrienne paused and was silent, absorbed in her own reflections.
Baleinier did not seek to disturb her. In the first place, Mdlle.
de Cardoville did not perceive the direction the coach was taking;
secondly, the doctor was not sorry to ponder over what he had just
heard. With his usual perspicuity, he saw that the Abbe d'Aigrigny
was concerned in this inheritance, and he resolved instantly to make a
secret report on the subject; either M. d'Aigrigny was acting under the
instructions of the Order, or by his own impulse; in the one event, the
report of the doctor would confirm a fact; in the other, it would reveal
one.
For some time, therefore, the lady and Dr. Baleinier remained perfectly
silent, no longer even disturbed by the noise of the wheels, for the
carriage now rolled over a thick carpet of snow, and the streets had
become more and more deserted. Notwithstanding his crafty treachery,
notwithstanding his audacity and the blindness of his dupe, the doctor
was not quite tranquil as to the result of his machinations. The
critical moment approached, and the least suspicion roused in the
mind of Adrienne by any inadvertence on his part, might ruin all his
projects.
Adrienne, already fatigued by the painful emotions of the day, shuddered
from time to time, as the cold became more and more piercing; in her
haste to accompany Dr. Baleinier, she had neglected to take either shawl
or mantle.
For some minutes the coach had followed the line of a very high wall,
which, seen through the snow, looked white against a black sky. The
silence was deep and mournful. Suddenly the carriage stopped, and
the footman went to knock at a large gateway; he first gave two rapid
knocks, and then one other at a long interval. Adrienne did not notice
the circumstance, for the noise was not loud, and the doctor had
immediately begun to speak, to drown with his voice this species of
signal.
"Here we are at last," said he gayly to Adrienne; "you must be very
winning--that is, you must be yourself."
"Be sure I will do my best," replied Adrienne, with a smile; then she
added, shivering in spite of herself: "How dreadfully cold it is! I must
confess, my dear Dr. Baleinier, that when I have been to fetch my poor
little relations from the house of our workman's mother, I shall be
truly glad to find myself once more in the warmth and light of my own
cheerful rooms, for you know my aversion to cold and darkness."
"It is quite natural," said the doctor, gallantly; "the most charming
flowers require the most light and heat."
Whilst the doctor and Mdlle. de Cardoville exchanged these few words,
a heavy gate had turned creaking upon its hinges, and the carriage had
entered a court-yard. The physician got down first, to offer his arm to
Adrienne.
CHAPTER XLIV. THE MINISTER'S CABINET.
The carriage had stopped before some steps covered with snow, which led
to a vestibule lighted by a lamp. The better to ascend the steps, which
were somewhat slippery, Adrienne leaned upon the doctor's arm.
"Dear me! how you tremble," said he.
"Yes," replied she, shuddering, "I feel deadly cold. In my haste, I
came out without a shawl. But how gloomy this house appears," she added,
pointing to the entrance.
"It is what you call the minister's private house, the sanctum
sanctorum, whither our statesman retires far from the sound of the
profane," said Dr. Baleinier, with a smile. "Pray come in!" and he
pushed open the door of a large hall, completely empty.
"They are right in saying," resumed Dr. Baleinier, who covered his
secret agitation with an appearance of gayety, "that a minister's house
is like nobody else's. Not a footman--not a page, I should say--to be
found in the antechamber. Luckily," added he, opening the door of a room
which communicated with the vestibule,
"'In this seraglio reared, I know the secret ways.'"
Mdlle. de Cardoville was now introduced into an apartment hung with
green embossed paper, and very simply furnished with mahogany chairs,