Page 22 of In Search of a Son


  CHAPTER XXII.

  GEORGE! GEORGE!

  Monsieur Roger stayed up all the remainder of that night by the side ofPaul, whose sleep was calm and dreamless, like the sleep which succeedsto some strong emotion, some great fatigue. Paul was still sleeping inthe morning when Monsieur Dalize softly turned the handle of the doorand entered the room on tiptoe. His entrance was made with so muchprecaution that Monsieur Roger himself did not hear him.

  Monsieur Dalize had some seconds in which to observe Roger. He saw himsitting beside the bed, his eyes fixed upon the child, in a thoughtfulattitude. Monsieur Roger was studying the delicate face which lay uponthe pillow. He examined its features one by one, and, thinking himselfalone, thinking that he would not be interrupted in this examination, hewas calling up the mysterious resemblance with which he had alreadyacquainted his friend. But he had not just now begun this study,--he hadpursued it all night. The light, however, of the lowered lamp had notbeen favorable, and the emotion which he felt agitated him still toomuch to leave his judgment clear. When the morning sun had risen,chasing away all the vague images of the darkness and the doubts of themind. Roger, having recovered his composure, looked at the child whom hehad saved, and asked himself if the child was not his own. He was drawnfrom these reflections by feeling himself touched upon the shoulder.Monsieur Dalize had approached and asked,--

  "Has he passed a good night?"

  "Excellent," answered Monsieur Roger, in a low tone; "but we must lethim sleep as long as he can. Give orders that no noise shall be madearound here and that no one shall enter. He must awake of his ownaccord. When he awakes he will only feel a slight fatigue."

  "Then I am going to give these orders and tell the good news," saidMonsieur Dalize.

  He retired as softly as he had entered, but by accident, near the door,he stumbled against a chair. He stopped, holding his breath; but Rogermade a sign that he could go on. The slight noise had not awakened Paul,or at least had not awakened him completely; he had turned around uponhis bed for the first time since he had been placed there. MonsieurRoger, who never took his eyes off him, understood that he was dreaming.The dream seemed to be a painful one, for some feeble groans and murmursescaped him. Then upon the face of the sleeping child appeared anexpression of great fear. Monsieur Roger did not wish to leave Paul aprey to such a dream. He approached near to raise him a little upon thebed. The moment that Monsieur Roger's two hands softly touched Paul'shead, the expression of fear disappeared, the features became quiet andcalm, the groans ceased, and suddenly there escaped his lips the singleword "Papa."

  Monsieur Roger started. With his trembling hands he still sustained thechild; he bent over, ready to embrace him, forgetting that the child wassleeping and dreaming. Monsieur Roger was about to utter the name whichchoked him,--"My son."

  Then Paul Solange opened his eyes. He looked up dreamily; then herecognized the face before him, and surprise mingled with affection inhis tones.

  "Monsieur Roger!" he said.

  He looked around him, saw that he was in his own room, and rememberednothing else. He asked,--

  "Why are you here, Monsieur Roger?"

  Mastering himself, Monsieur Roger answered that he had come to find outhow Paul was, as he had seen him suffering the night before.

  "I, suffering?" asked Paul. Then he sought to remember, and, all of asudden, he cried, "The fire over there at the farm!"

  Although his memory had not entirely returned, he recollected something.He hesitated to speak. Then, with an anxious voice, he asked,--

  "And Albert?"

  "Albert," answered Monsieur Roger, "he is below; and everybody iswaiting until you come down to breakfast."

  "Then there were no accidents?"

  "No."

  "How fortunate! I will dress myself and be down in a minute."

  And, in fact, in a few minutes Paul was ready, and descended leaning onMonsieur Roger's arm.

  The latter, as they entered the dining-room, made a sign to them thatthey should all keep silence: he did not wish that they should fatiguethe tired mind of the child with premature questions; but when they weresitting at the table, Paul, addressing Albert, said,--

  "Tell me what passed last night. It is strange I scarcely remember."

  "No," said Madame Dalize: "we are at table for breakfast, and we haveall need for food,--you, Paul, above all. Come, now, let us eat; alittle later we may talk."

  "It is well said," said Monsieur Dalize.

  There was nothing to do but to obey. And, indeed, Paul was glad to doso, for he was very hungry. He had lost so much strength that thestomach for the moment was more interesting to him than the brain. Theybreakfasted, and then they went out upon the lawn before the chateau,under a large walnut-tree, which every day gave its hospitable shade tothe Dalize family and their guests.

  "Well, my dear Paul," said Monsieur Dalize, "how are you at present?"

  "Very well, indeed, sir, very well," answered Paul. "I was a littlefeeble when I first awoke, but now,--now----"

  He stopped speaking; he seemed lost in thought.

  "What is the matter?" asked Albert.

  "I am thinking of last night at the farm,--the fire."

  "Oh, that was nothing," said Albert.

  "But," continued Paul, "how did we get back here?"

  "In the carriage. Father came for us and brought us home."

  "And how did we leave the farm?"

  Monsieur Roger followed with rapt attention the workings of Paul'smemory. He was waiting in burning anxiety the moment when Paul shouldremember. One principal fact, only one thing occupied his attention.Would Paul remember how and by whom he had been borne from the torporwhich was strangling him? Would he remember that cry,--that name whichhad had the miraculous power to awake him, to bring him back to life? IfPaul remembered that, then, perhaps---- And again Monsieur Roger was aprey to his fixed idea,--to his stroke of folly, as Monsieur Dalizecalled it.

  The latter, besides, knew nothing as yet, and Monsieur Roger countedupon the sudden revelation of this extraordinary fact to shake hisconviction. But Paul had repeated his question. He asked,--

  "How did we leave the farm-house? How were we saved?"

  And as Albert did not know whether he should speak, whether he shouldtell everything, Paul continued:

  "But speak, explain to me: I am trying to find out. I cannot remember;and that gives me pain here." And he touched his head.

  Monsieur Roger made a sign to Albert, and the latter spoke:

  "Well, do you remember the turret, where we had our rooms? You sleptabove, I below. Do you remember the trap-door that I showed you? In themiddle of the night I felt myself awakened by somebody, and I followedhim. In my half sleep I thought that this some one was you, my poorfriend; but, alas! you remained above; you were sleeping without fear.Why, it was Monsieur Roger who first saw the danger that you were in."

  Paul, while Albert was speaking, had bent his head, seeking in hismemory and beginning to put in order his scattered thoughts. WhenAlbert pronounced the name of Monsieur Roger, Paul raised his eyestowards him with a look which showed that he would soon remember.

  "And afterwards?" said he.

  "And afterwards Monsieur Roger climbed upon the roof, at the risk of hislife, and reached the loop-hole which opened into your chamber. He brokethe glass of the window; but you did not hear him: the smoke which wasissuing through the floor had made you insensible,--had almostasphyxiated you."

  "Ah, I remember!" cried Paul. "I was sleeping, and, at the same time, Iwas not sleeping. I knew that I was exposed to some great danger, but Ihad not the strength to make a movement. I seemed paralyzed. I heardcries and confused murmurs, sounds of people coming and going. I feltthat I ought to rise and flee, but that was impossible. My arms, my legswould not obey me; my eyelids, which I attempted to open, were of lead.I soon thought that everything was finished, that I was lost; and stillI was saying to myself that I might be raised out of this stupor. Itseemed to me that the efforts
of some one outside might be so, that anorder, a prayer might give back to my will the power which it had lost;but the stupor took hold of me more and more intensely. I was going toabandon myself to it, when, all of a sudden, I heard myself called. Yes,somebody called me; but not in the same way that I have been calledbefore. In that cry there was such a command, such a prayer, so muchfaith, that my will at once recovered strength to make my body obey it.I roused myself; I saw and I understood, and, luckily, I remembered thetrap-door which you had shown me. I could scarcely lift it; but therewas some one there,--yes, some one who saved me."

  Paul Solange uttered a great cry.

  "Ah," said he, "it was Monsieur Roger!" And he ran to throw himself intothe arms which Monsieur Roger extended to him.

  Miss Miette profited by the occasion to wipe her eyes, which this scenehad filled with big tears in spite of herself. Then she turned to Paul,and said,--

  "But the one who called to you? Was it true? It was not a dream?"

  "Oh, no; it was some one. But who was it?"

  "It was Monsieur Roger," answered Albert.

  "And so you understood him?" continued Miette, very much interested."And he called you loudly by your name, 'Paul! Paul!'"

  Paul Solange did not answer. This question had suddenly set him tothinking. No, he had not heard himself called thus. But how had he beencalled?

  Seeing that Paul was silent, Albert answered his little sister'squestion:

  "Certainly," said he, "he called Paul by his name."

  Then he interrupted himself, and, remembering all of a sudden:

  "No," cried he; "Monsieur Roger called out another name."

  "What other name?" asked Monsieur Dalize, much surprised.

  "He cried out, 'George! George!'"

  Monsieur Dalize turned his head towards Roger and saw the eyes of hisfriend fixed upon his own. He understood at once. Poor Roger was still aslave to the same thought, the same illusion.

  Madame Dalize and Miette, who were acquainted with the sorrows ofMonsieur Roger, imagined that in this moment of trouble he had in spiteof himself called up the image of his child. Paul, very gravely, wasdreamily saying to himself that the name of George was the name which hehad heard, and that it was to the sound of this name that he hadanswered, and he was asking himself the mysterious reason for such afact.

 
William Shepard Walsh's Novels