The Wandering Jew, Complete

E >> Eugene Sue >> The Wandering Jew, Complete


"But that is not all," continued the princess: "there are still, without
reckoning my niece, two persons, who, for our interests, ought not to be
found in Paris on the 13th of February."

"Yes, M. Hardy: but his most dear and intimate friend has betrayed him;
for, by means of that friend, we have drawn M. Hardy into the South,
whence it is impossible for him to return before a month. As for that
miserable vagabond workman, surnamed 'Sleepinbuff!'"

"Fie!" exclaimed the princess, with an expression of outraged modesty.

"That man," resumed the marquis, "is no longer an object of inquietude.
Lastly, Gabriel, upon whom our vast and certain hope reposes, will not be
left by himself for a single minute until the great day. Everything
seems, you see, to promise success; indeed, more so than ever; and it is
necessary to obtain this success at any price. It is for us a question of
life or death; for, in returning, I stopped at Forli, and there saw the
Duke d'Orbano. His influence over the mind of the king is all
powerful--indeed, absolute; and he has completely prepossessed the royal
mind. It is with the duke alone, then, that it is possible to treat."

"Well?"

"D'Orbano has gained strength; and he can, I know it, assure to us a
legal existence, highly protected, in the dominions of his master, with
full charge of popular education. Thanks to such advantages, after two or
three years in that country we shall become so deeply rooted, that this
very Duke d'Orbano, in his turn, will have to solicit support and
protection from us. But at present he has everything in his power; and he
puts an absolute condition upon his services."

"What is the condition?"

"Five millions down; and an annual pension of a hundred thousand francs."

"It is very much."

"Nay, but little if it be considered that our foot once planted in that
country, we shall promptly repossess ourselves of that sum, which, after
all, is scarcely an eighth part of what the affair of the medals, if
happily brought to an issue, ought to assure to the Order."

"Yes, nearly forty millions," said the princess, thoughtfully.

"And again: these five millions that Orbano demands will be but an
advance. They will be returned to us in voluntary gifts, by reason even
of the increase of influence that we shall acquire from the education of
children; through whom we have their families. And yet, the fools
hesitate! those who govern see not, that in doing our own business, we do
theirs also;--that in abandoning education to us (which is what we wish
for above all things) we mold the people into that mute and quiet
obedience, that servile and brutal submission, which assures the repose
of states by the immobility of the mind. They don't reflect that most of
the upper and middle classes fear and hate us; don't understand that
(when we have persuaded the mass that their wretchedness is an eternal
law, that sufferers must give up hope of relief, that it is a crime to
sigh for welfare in this world, since the crown of glory on high is the
only reward for misery here), then the stupefied people will resignedly
wallow in the mire, all their impatient aspirations for better days
smothered, and the volcano-blasts blown aside, which made the future of
rulers so horrid and so dark? They see not, in truth, that this blind and
passive faith which we demand from the mass, furnishes their rulers with
a bridle with which both to conduct and curb them; whilst we ask from the
happy of the world only some appearances which ought, if they had only
the knowledge of their own corruption, to give an increased stimulant to
their pleasures.

"It signifies not," resumed the princess; "since, as you say, a great day
is at hand, bringing nearly forty millions, of which the Order can become
possessed by the happy success of the affair of the medals. We certainly
can attempt very great things. Like a lever in your hands, such a means
of action would be of incalculable power, in times during which all men
buy and sell one another."

"And then," resumed M. d'Aigrigny, with a thoughtful air, "here the
reaction continues: the example of France is everything. In Austria and
Holland we can rarely maintain ourselves; while the resources of the
Order diminish from day to day. We have arrived at a crisis; but it can
be made to prolong itself. Thus, thanks to the immense resource of the
affair of the medals, we can not only brave all eventualities, but we can
again powerfully establish ourselves, thanks to the offer of the Duke
d'Orbano, which we accept; and then, from that inassailable centre, our
radiations will be incalculable. Ah! the 13th of February!" added M.
d'Aigrigny, after a moment of silence, and shaking his head: "the 13th of
February, a date perhaps fortunate and famous for our power as that of
the council which gave to us (so to say) a new life!"

"And nothing must be spared." resumed the princess, "in order to succeed
at any price. Of the six persons whom we have to fear, five are or will
be out of any condition to hurt us. There remains then only my niece; and
you know that I have waited but for your arrival in order to take my last
resolution. All my preparations are completed; and this very morning we
will begin to act."

"Have your suspicions increased since your last letter?"

"Yes, I am certain that she is more instructed than she wishes to appear;
and if so, we shall not have a more dangerous enemy."

"Such has always been my opinion. Thus it is six month: since I advised
you to take in all cases the measures which you have adopted, in order to
provoke, on her part, that demand of emancipation, the consequences of
which now render quite easy that which would have been impossible without
it."

"At last," said the princess, with an expression of joy, hateful and
bitter, "this indomitable spirit will be broken. I am at length about to
be avenged of the many insolent sarcasms which I have been compelled to
swallow, lest I should awaken her suspicions. I! I to have borne so much
till now! for this Adrienne has made it her business (imprudent as she
is!) to irritate me against herself!"

"Whosoever offends you, offends me; you know it," said D'Aigrigny, "my
hatreds are yours."

"And you yourself!" said the princess, "how many times have you been the
butt of her poignant irony!"

"My instincts seldom deceive me. I am certain that this young girl may
become a dangerous enemy for us," said the marquis, with a voice
painfully broken into short monosyllables.

"And, therefore, it is necessary that she may be rendered incapable of
exciting further fear," responded Madame de Saint-Dizier, fixedly
regarding the marquis.

"Have you seen Dr. Baleinier, and the sub-guardian, M. Tripeaud?" asked
he.

"They will be here this morning. I have informed them of everything."

"Did you find them well disposed to act against her?"

"Perfectly so--and the best is, Adrienne does not at all suspect the
doctor, who has known how, up to a certain point, to preserve her
confidence. Moreover, a circumstance which appears to me inexplicable has
come to our aid."

"What do you allude to?"

"This morning, Mrs. Grivois went, according to my orders, to remind
Adrienne that I expected her at noon, upon important business. As she
approached the pavilion, Mrs. Grivois saw, or thought she saw, Adrienne
come in by the little garden-gate."

"What do you tell me? Is it possible? Is there any positive proof of it?"
cried the marquis.

"Till now, there is no other proof than the spontaneous declaration of
Mrs. Grivois: but whilst I think of it," said the Princess, taking up a
paper that lay before her, "here is the report, which, every day, one of
Adrienne's women makes to me."

"The one that Rodin succeeded in introducing into your niece's service?"

"The same; as this creature is entirely in Rodin's hands, she has
hitherto answered our purpose very well. In this report, we shall perhaps
find the confirmation of what Mrs. Grivois affirms she saw."

Hardly had the Princess glanced at the note, than she exclaimed almost in
terror: "What do I see? Why, Adrienne is a very demon!"

"What now?"

"The bailiff at Cardoville, having written to my niece to ask her
recommendation, informed her at the same time of the stay of the Indian
prince at the castle. She knows that he is her relation, and has just
written to her old drawing-master, Norval, to set out post with Eastern
dresses, and bring Prince Djalma hither--the man that must be kept away
from Paris at any cost."

The marquis grew pale, and said to Mme. de Saint-Dizier: "If this be not
merely one of her whims, the eagerness she displays in sending for this
relation hither, proves that she knows more than you even suspected. She
is 'posted' on the affair of the medals. Have a care--she may ruin all."

"In that case," said the princess, resolutely, "there is no room to
hesitate. We must carry things further than we thought, and make an end
this very morning."

"Yes, though it is almost impossible."

"Nay, all is possible. The doctor and M. Tripeaud are ours," said the
princess, hastily.

"Though I am as sure as you are of the doctor, or of M. Tripeaud, under
present circumstances, we must not touch on the question of acting--which
will be sure to frighten them at first--until after our interview with
your niece. It will be easy, notwithstanding her cleverness, to find out
her armor's defect. If our suspicions should be realized--if she is
really informed of what it would be so dangerous for her to know--then we
must have no scruples, and above all no delay. This very day must see all
set at rest. The time for wavering is past."

"Have you been able to send for the person agreed on?" asked the
princess, after a moment's silence.

"He was to be here at noon. He cannot be long."

"I thought this room would do very well for our purpose. It is separated
from the smaller parlor by a curtain only behind which your man may be
stationed."

"Capital!"

"Is he a man to be depended on?"

"Quite so--we have often employed him in similar matters. He is as
skillful as discreet."

At this moment a low knock was heard at the door.

"Come in," said the princess.

"Dr. Baleinier wishes to know if her Highness the Princess can receive
him," asked the valet-de-chambre.

"Certainly. Beg him to walk in."

"There is also a gentleman that M. l'Abbe appointed to be here at noon,
by whose orders I have left him waiting in the oratory."

"'Tis the person in question," said the marquis to the princess. "We must
have him in first. 'Twould be useless for Dr. Baleinier to see him at
present."

"Show this person in first," said the princess; "next when I ring the
bell, you will beg Dr. Baleinier to walk this way: and, if Baron Tripeaud
should call, you will bring him here also. After that, I am at home to no
one, except Mdlle. Adrienne." The servant went out.

[9] With regard to this text, a commentary upon it will be found in the
Constitutions of the Jesuits, as follows: "In order that the habit of
language may come to the help of the sentiments, it is wise not to say,
'I have parents, or I have brothers;' but to say, 'I had parents; I had
brothers.'"--General Examination, p. 29; Constitutions.--Paulin; 1843.
Paris.




CHAPTER XXXVIII.

ADRIENNE'S ENEMIES.

The Princess de Saint-Dizier's valet soon returned, showing in a little,
pale man, dressed in black, and wearing spectacles. He carried under his
left arm a long black morocco writing-case.

The princess said to this man: "M. l'Abbe, I suppose, has already
informed you of what is to be done?"

"Yes, your highness," said the man in a faint, shrill, piping voice,
making at the same time a low bow.

"Shall you be conveniently placed in this room?" asked the princess,
conducting him to the adjoining apartment, which was only separated from
the other by a curtain hung before a doorway.

"I shall do nicely here, your highness," answered the man in spectacles,
with a second and still lower bow.

"In that case, sir, please to step in here; I will let you know when it
is time."

"I shall wait your highness's order."

"And pray remember my instructions," added the marquis, as he unfastened
the loops of the curtain.

"You may be perfectly tranquil, M. l'Abbe." The heavy drapery, as it
fell, completely concealed the man in spectacles.

The princess touched the bell; some moments after, the door opened, and
the servant announced a very important personage in this work.

Dr. Baleinier was about fifty years of age, middling size, rather plump,
with a full shining, ruddy countenance. His gray hair, very smooth and
rather long, parted by a straight line in the middle, fell flat over his
temples. He had retained the fashion of wearing short, black silk
breeches, perhaps because he had a well-formed leg; his garters were
fastened with small, golden buckles, as were his shoes of polished
morocco leather; his coat, waistcoat, and cravat were black, which gave
him rather a clerical appearance; his sleek, white hand was half hidden
beneath a cambric ruffle, very closely plaited; on the whole, the gravity
of his costume did not seem to exclude a shade of foppery.

His face was acute and smiling; his small gray eye announced rare
penetration and sagacity. A man of the world and a man of pleasure, a
delicate epicure, witty in conversation, polite to obsequiousness,
supple, adroit, insinuating, Baleinier was one of the oldest favorites of
the congregational set of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. Thanks to this
powerful support, its cause unknown, the doctor, who had been long
neglected, in spite of real skill and incontestable merit, found himself,
under the Restoration, suddenly provided with two medical sinecures most
valuable, and soon after with numerous patients. We must add, that, once
under the patronage of the princess, the doctor began scrupulously to
observe his religious duties; he communicated once a week, with great
publicity, at the high mass in Saint Thomas Aquinas Church.

At the year's end, a certain class of patients, led by the example and
enthusiasm of Madame de Saint-Dizier's followers, would have no other
physician than Doctor Baleinier, and his practice was now increased to an
extraordinary degree. It may be conceived how important it was for the
order, to have amongst its "plain clothes members" one of the most
popular practitioners of Paris.

A doctor has in some sort a priesthood of his own. Admitted at all hours
to the most secret intimacy of families, he knows, guesses, and is able
to effect much. Like the priest, in short, he has the ear of the sick and
the dying. Now, when he who cares for the health of the body, and he who
takes charge of the health of the soul, understands each other, and
render mutual aid for the advancement of a common interest, there is
nothing (with certain exceptions), which they may not extract from the
weakness and fears of a sick man at the last gasp--not for themselves
(the laws forbid it)--but for third parties belonging more or less to the
very convenient class of men of straw. Doctor Baleinier was therefore one
of the most active and valuable assistant members of the Paris Jesuits.

When he entered the room, he hastened to kiss the princess's hand with
the most finished gallantry.

"Always punctual, my dear M. Baleinier."

"Always eager and happy to attend to your highness's orders." Then
turning towards the marquis, whose hand he pressed cordially, he added:
"Here we have you then at last. Do you know, that three months' absence
appears very long to your friends?"

"The time is as long to the absent as to those who remain, my dear
doctor. Well! here is the great day, Mdlle. de Cardoville is coming."

"I am not quite easy," said the princess; "suppose she had any suspicion?"

"That's impossible," said M. Baleinier; "we are the best friends in the
world. You know, that Mdlle. Adrienne has always had great confidence in
me. The day before yesterday, we laughed a good deal, and as I made some
observations to her, as usual, on her eccentric mode of life, and on the
singular state of excitement in which I sometimes found her--"

"M. Baleinier never fails to insist on these circumstances, in appearance
so insignificant," said Madame de Saint-Dizier to the marquis with a
meaning look.

"They are indeed very essential," replied the other.

"Mdlle. Adrienne answered my observations," resumed the doctor, "by
laughing at me in the gayest and most witty manner; for I must confess,
that this young lady has one of the aptest and most accomplished minds I
know."

"Doctor, doctor!" said Madame de Saint-Dizier, "no weakness!"

Instead of answering immediately, M. Baleinier drew his gold snuff-box
from his waistcoat pocket, opened it, and took slowly a pinch of snuff,
looking all the time at the princess with so significant an air, that she
appeared quite reassured. "Weakness, madame?" observed he at last,
brushing some grains of snuff from his shirt-front with his plump white
hand; "did I not have the honor of volunteering to extricate you from
this embarrassment?"

"And you are the only person in the world that could render us this
important service," said D'Aigrigny.

"Your highness sees, therefore," resumed the doctor, "that I am not
likely to show any weakness. I perfectly understand the responsibility of
what I undertake; but such immense interests, you told me, were at
stake--"

"Yes," said D'Aigrigny, "interests of the first consequence."

"Therefore I did not hesitate," proceeded M. Baleinier; "and you need not
be at all uneasy. As a man of taste, accustomed to good society, allow me
to render homage to the charming qualities of Mdlle. Adrienne; when the
time for action comes, you will find me quite as willing to do my work."

"Perhaps, that moment may be nearer than we thought," said Madame de
Saint-Dizier, exchanging a glance with D'Aigrigny.

"I am, and will be, always ready," said the doctor. "I answer for
everything that concerns myself. I wish I could be as tranquil on every
other point."

"Is not your asylum still as fashionable--as an asylum can well be?"
asked Madame de Saint-Dizier, with a half smile.

"On the contrary. I might almost complain of having too many boarders. It
is not that. But, whilst we are waiting for Mdlle. Adrienne, I will
mention another subject, which only relates to her indirectly, for it
concerns the person who, bought Cardoville Manor, one Madame de la
Sainte-Colombe, who has taken me for a doctor, thanks to Rodin's able
management."

"True," said D'Aigrigny; "Rodin wrote to me on the subject--but without
entering into details."

"These are the facts," resumed the doctor. "This Madame de la Sainte
Colombe, who was at first considered easy enough to lead, has shown
herself very refractory on the head of her conversion. Two spiritual
directors have already renounced the task of saving her soul. In despair,
Rodin unslipped little Philippon on her. He is adroit, tenacious, and
above all patient in the extreme--the very man that was wanted. When I
got Madame de la Sainte-Colombe for a patient, Philippon asked my aid,
which he was naturally entitled to. We agreed upon our plan. I was not to
appear to know him the least in the world; and he was to keep me informed
of the variations in the moral state of his penitent, so that I might be
able, by the use of very inoffensive medicines--for there was nothing
dangerous in the illness--to keep my patient in alternate states of
improvement or the reverse, according as her director had reason to be
satisfied or displeased--so that he might say to her: 'You see, madame,
you are in the good way! Spiritual grace acts upon your bodily health,
and you are already better. If, on the contrary, you fall back into evil
courses, you feel immediately some physical ail, which is a certain proof
of the powerful influence of faith, not only on the soul, but on the body
also?'"

"It is doubtless painful," said D'Aigrigny, with perfect coolness, "to be
obliged to have recourse to such means, to rescue perverse souls from
perdition--but we must needs proportion our modes of action to the
intelligence and the character of the individual."

"By-the-bye, the princess knows," resumed the doctor, "that I have often
pursued this plan at St. Mary's Convent, to the great advantage of the
soul's peace and health of some of our patients, being extremely
innocent. These alternations never exceed the difference between 'pretty
well,' and 'not quite so well.' Yet small as are the variations, they act
most efficaciously on certain minds. It was thus with Madame de la
Sainte-Colombe. She was in such a fair way of recovery, both moral and
physical, that Rodin thought he might get Philippon to advise the country
for his penitent, fearing that Paris air might occasion a relapse. This
advice, added to the desire the woman had to play 'lady of the parish,'
induced her to buy Cardoville Manor, a good investment in any respect.
But yesterday, unfortunate Philippon came to tell me, that Madame de la
Sainte-Colombe was about to have an awful relapse--moral, of course--for
her physical health is now desperately good. The said relapse appears to
have been occasioned by an interview she has had with one Jacques
Dumoulin, whom they tell me you know, my dear abbe; he has introduced
himself to her, nobody can guess how."

"This Jacques Dumoulin," said the marquis, with disgust, "is one of those
men, that we employ while we despise. He is a writer full of gall, envy,
and hate, qualities that give him a certain unmercifully cutting
eloquence. We pay him largely to attack our enemies, though it is often
painful to see principles we respect defended by such a pen. For this
wretch lives like a vagabond--is constantly in taverns--almost always
intoxicated--but, I must own, his power of abuse is inexhaustible, and he
is well versed in the most abstruse theological controversies, so that he
is sometimes very useful to us."

"Well! though Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is hard upon sixty, it appears
that Dumoulin has matrimonial views on her large fortune. You will do
well to inform Rodin, so that he may be on his guard against the dark
designs of this rascal. I really beg a thousand pardons for having so
long occupied you with such a paltry affair--but, talking of St. Mary's
Convent," added the doctor, addressing the princess, "may I take the
liberty of asking if your highness has been there lately?"

The princess exchanged a rapid glance with D'Aigrigny, and answered: "Oh,
let me see! Yes, I was there about a week ago."

"You will find great changes then. The wall that was next to my asylum
has been taken down, for they are going to build anew wing and a chapel,
the old one being too small. I must say in praise of Mdlle. Adrienne"
continued the doctor with a singular smile aside, "that she promised me a
copy of one of Raphael's Madonnas for this chapel."

"Really? very appropriate!" said the princess. "But here it is almost
noon, and M. Tripeaud has not come."

"He is the deputy-guardian of Mdlle. de Cardoville, whose property he has
managed, as former agent of the count-duke," said the marquis, with
evident anxiety, "and his presence here is absolutely indispensable. It
is greatly to be desired that his coming should precede that of Mdlle. de
Cardoville, who may be here at any moment."

"It is unlucky that his portrait will not do as well," said the doctor,
smiling maliciously, and drawing a small pamphlet from his pocket.

"What is that, doctor?" asked the princess.

"One of those anonymous sheets, which are published from time to time. It
is called the 'Scourge,' and Baron Tripeaud's portrait is drawn with such
faithfulness, that it ceases to be satire. It is really quite life like;
you have only to listen. The sketch is entitled: 'TYPE OF THE LYNX
SPECIES.'

"'The Baron Tripeaud.--This man, who is as basely humble towards his
social superiors, as he is insolent and coarse to those who depend upon
him--is the living, frightful incarnation of the worst pardon of the
moneyed and commercial aristocracy--one of the rich and cynical
speculators, without heart, faith or conscience, who would speculate for
a rise or fall on the death of his mother, if the death of his mother
could influence the price of stocks.

"'Such persons have all the odious vices of men suddenly elevated, not
like those whom honest and patient labor has nobly enriched, but like
those who owe their wealth to some blind caprice of fortune, or some
lucky cast of the net in the miry waters of stock-jobbing.

"'Once up in the world, they hate the people--because the people remind
them of a mushroom origin of which they are ashamed. Without pity for the
dreadful misery of the masses, they ascribe it wholly to idleness or
debauchery because this calumny forms an excuse for their barbarous
selfishness.

"'And this is not all. On the strength of his well-filled safe, mounted
on his right of the candidate, Baron Tripeaud insults the poverty and
political disfranchisement--of the officer, who, after forty years of
wars and hard service, is just able to live on a scanty pension--Of the
magistrate, who has consumed his strength in the discharge of stern and
sad duties, and who is not better remunerated in his litter days--Of the
learned man who has made his country illustrious by useful labors; or the
professor who has initiated entire generations in the various branches of
human knowledge--Of the modest and virtuous country curate, the pure
representative of the gospel, in its charitable, fraternal, and
democratic tendencies, etc.