CHAPTER XXVI. A GOOD GENIUS.
The first of the two, whose arrival had interrupted the answer of thenotary, was Faringhea. At sight of this man's forbidding countenance,Samuel approached, and said to him: "Who are you, sir?"
After casting a piercing glance at Rodin, who started but soon recoveredhis habitual coolness, Faringhea replied to Samuel: "Prince Djalmaarrived lately from India, in order to be present here this day, as itwas recommended to him by an inscription on a medal, which he wore abouthis neck."
"He, also!" cried Gabriel, who had been the shipmate of the IndianPrince from the Azores, where the vessel in which he came fromAlexandria had been driven into port: "he also one of the heirs! Infact, the prince told me during the voyage that his mother was of Frenchorigin. But, doubtless, he thought it right to conceal from me theobject of his journey. Oh! that Indian is a noble and courageous youngman. Where is he?"
The Strangler again looked at Rodin, and said, laying strong emphasisupon his words: "I left the prince yesterday evening. He informed methat, although he had a great interest to be here, he might possiblysacrifice that interest to other motives. I passed the night in the samehotel, and this morning, when I went to call on him, they told me he wasalready gone out. My friendship for him led me to come hither, hopingthe information I should be able to give might be of use to the prince."
In making no mention of the snare into which he had fallen the daybefore, in concealing Rodin's machinations with regard to Djalma, andin attributing the absence of this latter to a voluntary cause, theStrangler evidently wished to serve the socius, trusting that Rodinwould know how to recompense his discretion. It is useless to observe,that all this story was impudently false. Having succeeded that morningin escaping from his prison by a prodigious effort of cunning, audacity,and skill, he had run to the hotel where he had left Djalma; therehe had learned that a man and woman, of an advanced age, and mostrespectable appearance, calling themselves relations of the youngIndian, had asked to see him--and that, alarmed at the dangerous stateof somnolency in which he seemed to be plunged, they had taken him homein their carriage, in order to pay him the necessary attention.
"It is unfortunate," said the notary, "that this heir also did notmake his appearance--but he has, unhappily, forfeited his right to theimmense inheritance that is in question."
"Oh! an immense inheritance is in question," said Faringhea, lookingfixedly at Rodin, who prudently turned away his eyes.
The second of the two personages we have mentioned entered at thismoment. It was the father of Marshal Simon, an old man of tall stature,still active and vigorous for his age. His hair was white and thin. Hiscountenance, rather fresh-colored, was expressive at once of quickness,mildness and energy.
Agricola advanced hastily to meet him. "You here, M. Simon!" heexclaimed.
"Yes, my boy," said the marshal's father, cordially pressing Agricola'shand "I have just arrived from my journey. M. Hardy was to have beenhere, about some matter of inheritance, as he supposed: but, as he willstill be absent from Paris for some time, he has charged me--"
"He also an heir!--M. Francis Hardy!" cried Agricola, interrupting theold workman.
"But how pale and agitated you are, my boy!" said the marshal's father,looking round with astonishment. "What is the matter?"
"What is the matter?" cried Dagobert, in despair, as he approached theforeman. "The matter is that they would rob your granddaughters, andthat I have brought them from the depths of Siberia only to witness thisshameful deed!"
"Eh?" cried the old workman, trying to recognize the soldiers face, "youare then--"
"Dagobert."
"You--the generous, devoted friend of my son!" cried the marshal'sfather, pressing the hands of Dagobert in his own with strong emotion;"but did you not speak of Simon's daughter?"
"Of his daughters; for he is more fortunate than he imagines," saidDagobert. "The poor children are twins."
"And where are they?" asked the old man.
"In a convent."
"In a convent?"
"Yes; by the treachery of this man, who keeps them there in order todisinherit them."
"What man?"
"The Marquis d'Aigrigny."
"My son's mortal enemy!" cried the old workman, as he threw a glance ofaversion at Father d'Aigrigny, whose audacity did not fail him.
"And that is not all," added Agricola. "M. Hardy, my worthy andexcellent master, has also lost his right to this immense inheritance."
"What?" cried Marshal Simon's father; "but M. Hardy did not know thatsuch important interests were concerned. He set out hastily to join oneof his friends who was in want of him."
At each of these successive revelations, Samuel felt his troubleincrease: but he could only sigh over it, for the will of the testatorwas couched, unhappily, in precise and positive terms.
Father d'Aigrigny, impatient to end this scene, which caused him cruelembarrassment, in spite of his apparent calmness, said to the notary,in a grave and expressive voice: "It is necessary, sir, that allthis should have an end. If calumny could reach me, I would answervictoriously by the facts that have just come to light. Why attributeto odious conspiracies the absence of the heirs, in whose names thissoldier and his son have so uncourteously urged their demands? Whyshould such absence be less explicable than the young Indian's, or thanM. Hardy's, who, as his confidential man has just told us, did not evenknow the importance of the interests that called him hither? Is it notprobable, that the daughters of Marshal Simon, and Mdlle. de Cardovillehave been prevented from coming here to-day by some very naturalreasons? But, once again, this has lasted too long. I think M. Notarywill agree with me, that this discovery of new heirs does not at allaffect the question, which I had the honor to propose to him just now;namely whether, as trustee for the poor, to whom Abbe Gabriel made afree gift of all he possessed, I remain notwithstanding his tardy andillegal opposition, the only possessor of this property, which Ihave promised, and which I now again promise, in presence of all hereassembled, to employ for the Greater Glory of the Lord? Please to answerme plainly, M. Notary; and thus terminate the scene which must needs bepainful to us all."
"Sir," replied the notary, in a solemn tone, "on my soul and conscience,and in the name of law and justice--as a faithful and impartial executorof the last will of M. Marius de Rennepont, I declare that, by virtueof the deed of gift of Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont, you, M. l'Abbed'Aigrigny, are the only possessor of this property, which I place atyour immediate disposal, that you may employ the same according to theintention of the donor."
These words pronounced with conviction and gravity, destroyed the lastvague hopes that the representatives of the heirs might till then haveentertained. Samuel became paler than usual, and pressed convulsivelythe hand of Bathsheba, who had drawn near to him. Large tears rolleddown the cheeks of the two old people. Dagobert and Agricola wereplunged into the deepest dejection. Struck with the reasoning ofthe notary, who refused to give more credence and authority to theirremonstrances than the magistrates had done before him, they sawthemselves forced to abandon every hope. But Gabriel suffered more thanany one; he felt the most terrible remorse, in reflecting that, by hisblindness, he had been the involuntary cause and instrument of thisabominable theft.
So, when the notary, after having examined and verified the amount ofsecurities contained in the cedar box, said to Father d'Aigrigny:"Take possession, sir, of this casket--" Gabriel exclaimed, with bitterdisappointment and profound despair: "Alas! one would fancy, under thesecircumstances, that an inexorable fatality pursues all those who areworthy of interest, affection or respect. Oh, my God!" added the youngpriest, clasping his hands with fervor, "Thy sovereign justice willnever permit the triumph of such iniquity."
It was as if heaven had listened to the prayer of the missionary. Hardlyhad he spoken, when a strange event took place.
Without waiting for the end of Gabriel's invocation, Rodin, profiting bythe decision of the notary, had seized the casket in his a
rms, unableto repress a deep aspiration of joy and triumph. At the very momentwhen Father d'Aigrigny and his socius thought themselves at last in safepossession of the treasure, the door of the apartment in which the clockhad been heard striking was suddenly opened.
A woman appeared upon the threshold.
At sight of her, Gabriel uttered a loud cry, and remained as ifthunderstruck. Samuel and Bathsheba fell on their knees together, andraised their clasped hands. The Jew and Jewess felt inexplicable hopesreviving within them.
All the other actors in this scene appeared struck with stupor.Rodin--Rodin himself--recoiled two steps, and replaced the casket on thetable with a trembling hand. Though the incident might appear naturalenough--a woman appearing on the threshold of a door, which she had justthrown open--there was a pause of deep and solemn silence. Every bosomseemed oppressed, and as if struggling for breath. All experienced,at sight of this woman, surprise mingled with fear, and indefinableanxiety--for this woman was the living original of the portrait, whichhad been placed in the room a hundred and fifty years ago. The samehead-dress, the same flowing robe, the same countenance, so full ofpoignant and resigned grief! She advanced slowly, and without appearingto perceive the deep impression she had caused. She approached one ofthe pieces of furniture, inlaid with brass, touched a spring concealedin the moulding of gilded bronze, so that an upper drawer flew open, andtaking from it a sealed parchment envelope, she walked up to the table,and placed this packet before the notary, who, hitherto silent andmotionless, received it mechanically from her.
Then, casting upon Gabriel, who seemed fascinated by her presence, along, mild, melancholy look, this woman directed her steps towards thehall, the door of which had remained open. As she passed near Samuel andBathsheba, who were still kneeling, she stopped an instant, bowed herfair head towards them, and looked at them with tender solicitude. Then,giving them her hands to kiss, she glided away as slowly as she hadentered--throwing a last glance upon Gabriel. The departure of thiswoman seemed to break the spell under which all present had remained forthe last few minutes. Gabriel was the first to speak, exclaiming, in anagitated voice. "It is she--again--here--in this house!"
"Who, brother?" said Agricola, uneasy at the pale and almost wildlooks of the missionary; for the smith had not yet remarked the strangeresemblance of the woman to the portrait, though he shared in thegeneral feeling of amazement, without being able to explain it tohimself. Dagobert and Faringhea were in a similar state of mind.
"Who is this woman?" resumed Agricola, as he took the hand of Gabriel,which felt damp and icy cold.
"Look!" said the young priest. "Those portraits have been there for morethan a century and a half."
He pointed to the paintings before which he was now seated, andAgricola, Dagobert, and Faringhea raised their eyes to either side ofthe fireplace. Three exclamations were now heard at once.
"It is she--it is the same woman!" cried the smith, in amazement, "andher portrait has been here for a hundred and fifty years!"
"What do I see?" cried Dagobert, as he gazed at the portrait of the man."The friend and emissary of Marshal Simon. Yes! it is the same face thatI saw last year in Siberia. Oh, yes! I recognize that wild and sorrowfulair--those black eyebrows, which make only one!"
"My eyes do not deceive me," muttered Faringhea to himself, shudderingwith horror. "It is the same man, with the black mark on his forehead,that we strangled and buried on the banks of the Ganges--the same man,that one of the sons of Bowanee told me, in the ruins of Tchandi, hadbeen met by him afterwards at one of the gates of Bombay--the man of thefatal curse, who scatters death upon his passage--and his picture hasexisted for a hundred and fifty years!"
And, like Dagobert and Agricola, the stranger could not withdraw hiseyes from that strange portrait.
"What a mysterious resemblance!" thought Father d'Aigrigny. Then, as ifstruck with a sudden idea, he said to Gabriel: "But this woman is thesame that saved your life in America?"
"It is the same," answered Gabriel, with emotion; "and yet she told meshe was going towards the North," added the young priest, speaking tohimself.
"But how came she in this house?" said Father d'Aigrigny, addressingSamuel. "Answer me! did this woman come in with you, or before you?"
"I came in first, and alone, when this door was first opened since acentury and half," said Samuel, gravely.
"Then how can you explain the presence of this woman here?" said Fatherd'Aigrigny.
"I do not try to explain it," said the Jew. "I see, I believe, and now Ihope." added he, looking at Bathsheba with an indefinable expression.
"But you ought to explain the presence of this woman!" said Fatherd'Aigrigny, with vague uneasiness. "Who is she? How came she hither?"
"All I know is, sir, that my father has often told me; there aresubterraneous communications between this house and distant parts of thequarter."
"Oh! then nothing can be clearer," said Father d'Aigrigny; "it onlyremains to be known what this woman intends by coming hither. As forher singular resemblance to this portrait, it is one of the freaks ofnature."
Rodin had shared in the general emotion, at the apparition of thismysterious woman. But when he saw that she had delivered a sealed packetto the notary, the socius, instead of thinking of the strangeness ofthis unexpected vision, was only occupied with a violent desire to quitthe house with the treasure which had just fallen to the Company. Hefelt a vague anxiety at sight of the envelope with the black seal, whichthe protectress of Gabriel had delivered to the notary, and was stillheld mechanically in his hands. The socius, therefore, judging this avery good opportunity to walk off with the casket, during the generalsilence and stupor which still continued, slightly touched Fatherd'Aigrigny's elbow, made him a sign of intelligence, and, tucking thecedar-wood chest under his arm, was hastening towards the door.
"One moment, sir," said Samuel, rising, and standing in his path; "Irequest M. Notary to examine the envelope, that has just been deliveredto him. You may then go out."
"But, sir," said Rodin, trying to force a passage, "the question isdefinitively decided in favor of Father d'Aigrigny. Therefore, with yourpermission--"
"I tell you, sir," answered the old man, in a loud voice, "that thiscasket shall not leave the house, until M. Notary has examined theenvelope just delivered to him!"
These words drew the attention of all, Rodin was forced to retrace hissteps. Notwithstanding the firmness of his character, the Jew shudderedat the look of implacable hate which Rodin turned upon him at thismoment.
Yielding to the wish of Samuel, the notary examined the envelope withattention. "Good Heaven!" he cried suddenly; "what do I see?--Ah! somuch the better!"
At this exclamation all eyes turned upon the notary. "Oh! read, read,sir!" cried Samuel, clasping his hands together. "My presentiments havenot then deceived me!"
"But, sir," said Father d'Aigrigny to the notary, for he began to sharein the anxiety of Rodin, "what is this paper?"
"A codicil," answered the notary; "a codicil, which reopens the wholequestion."
"How, sir?" cried Father d'Aigrigny, in a fury, as he hastily drewnearer to the notary, "reopens the whole question! By what right?"
"It is impossible," added Rodin. "We protest against it.
"Gabriel! father! listen," cried Agricola, "all is not lost. There isyet hope. Do you hear, Gabriel? There is yet hope."
"What do you say?" exclaimed the young priest, rising, and hardlybelieving the words of his adopted brother.
"Gentlemen," said the notary; "I will read to you the superscriptionof this envelope. It changes, or rather, it adjourns, the whole of thetestamentary provisions."
"Gabriel!" cried Agricola, throwing himself on the neck of themissionary, "all is adjourned, nothing is lost!"
"Listen, gentlemen," said the notary; and he read as follows:
"'This is a Codicil, which for reasons herein stated, adjourns andprorogues to the 1st day of June, 1832, though without any other change,all the p
rovisions contained in the testament made by me, at one o'clockthis afternoon. The house shall be reclosed, and the funds left in thehands of the same trustee, to be distributed to the rightful claimantson the 1st of June, 1832.
"'Villetaneuse, this 13th of February, 1682, eleven o'clock at night."'MARIUS DE RENNEPONT.'"
"I protest against this codicil as a forgery!" cried Father d'Aigrignylivid with rage and despair.
"The woman who delivered it to the notary is a suspicious character,"added Rodin. "The codicil has been forged."
"No, sir," said the notary, severely; "I have just compared the twosignatures, and they are absolutely alike. For the rest--what I saidthis morning, with regard to the absent heirs, is now applicable toyou--the law is open; you may dispute the authenticity of this codicil.Meanwhile, everything will remain suspended--since the term for theadjustment of the inheritance is prolonged for three months and a half."
When the notary had uttered these last words, Rodin's nails drippedblood; for the first time, his wan lips became red.
"Oh, God! Thou hast heard and granted my prayer!" cried Gabriel,kneeling down with religious fervor, and turning his angelic facetowards heaven. "Thy sovereign justice has not let iniquity triumph!"
"What do you say, my brave boy?" cried Dagobert, who, in the firsttumult of joy, had not exactly understood the meaning of the codicil.
"All is put off, father!" exclaimed the smith; "the heirs will havethree months and a half more to make their claim. And now that thesepeople are unmasked," added Agricola, pointing to Rodin and Fatherd'Aigrigny, "we have nothing more to fear from them. We shall be onour guard; and the orphans, Mdlle. de Cardoville, my worthy master, M.Hardy, and this young Indian, will all recover their own."
We must renounce the attempt to paint the delight, the transport ofGabriel and Agricola, of Dagobert, and Marshal Simon's father, of Samueland Bathsheba. Faringhea alone remained in gloomy silence, before theportrait of the man with the black-barred forehead. As for the fury ofFather d'Aigrigny and Rodin, when they saw Samuel retake possession ofthe casket, we must also renounce any attempt to describe it. On thenotary's suggestion, who took with him the codicil, to have it openedaccording to the formalities of the law, Samuel agreed that it would bemore prudent to deposit in the Bank of France the securities of immensevalue that were now known to be in his possession.
While all the generous hearts, which had for a moment suffered so much,were overflowing with happiness, hope, and joy, Father d'Aigrigny andRodin quitted the house with rage and death in their souls. The reverendfather got into his carriage, and said to his servants: "To Saint-DizierHouse!"--Then, worn out and crushed, he fell back upon the seat, and hidhis face in his hands, while he uttered a deep groan. Rodin sat next tohim, and looked with a mixture of anger and disdain at this so dejectedand broken-spirited man.
"The coward!" said he to himself. "He despairs--and yet--"
A quarter of an hour later, the carriage stopped in the Rue de Babylone,in the court-yard of Saint-Dizier House.