Weird Tales, Vol. II (of 2) Read online

  _MADEMOISELLE DE SCUDERI. A TALE OF THE TIMES OF LOUIS XIV._

  The little house in which lived Madeleine de Scuderi,[1] well known forher pleasing verses, and the favour of Louis XIV. and the Marchionessde Maintenon, was situated in the Rue St. Honoree.

  One night almost at midnight--it would be about the autumn, of the year1680--there came such a loud and violent knocking at the door of herhouse that it made the whole entrance-passage ring again. Baptiste, whoin the lady's small household discharged at one and the same time theoffices of cook, footman, and porter, had with his mistress'spermission gone into the country to attend his sister's wedding; andthus it happened that La Martiniere, Mademoiselle's lady-maid wasalone, and the only person awake in the house. The knockings wererepeated. She suddenly remembered that Baptiste had gone for hisholiday, and that she and her mistress were left in the house withoutany further protection. All the outrages burglaries, thefts, andmurders--which were then so common in Paris, crowded upon her mind; shewas sure it was a band of cut-throats who were making all thisdisturbance outside; they must be well aware how lonely the housestood, and if let in would perpetrate some wicked deed against hermistress; and so she remained in her room, trembling and quaking withfear, and cursing Baptiste and his sister's wedding as well.

  Meanwhile the hammering at the door was being continued; and shefancied she heard a voice shouting at intervals, "Oh! do open the door!For God's sake, do open the door!" At last La Martiniere's anxiety roseto such a pitch that, taking up the lighted candle, she ran out intothe passage. There she heard quite plainly the voice of the personknocking, "For God's sake! do open the door, please!" "Certainly,"thought she, "that surely is not the way a robber would knock. Whoknows whether it is not some poor man being pursued and wantsprotection from Mademoiselle, who is always ready to do an act ofkindness? But let us be cautious." Opening a window, she called out,asking who was down making such a loud noise at the house-door so lateat night, awakening everybody up out of their sleep; and sheendeavoured to give her naturally deep voice as manly a tone as shepossibly could.

  By the glimmer of the moon, which now broke through the dark clouds,she could make out a tall figure, enveloped in a light-grey mantle,having his broad-brimmed hat pulled down right over his eyes. Then sheshouted in a loud voice, so as to be heard by the man below, "Baptiste,Claude, Pierre, get up and go and see who this good-for-nothingvagabond is, who is trying to break into the house." But the voice frombelow made answer gently, and in a tone that had a plaintive ring init, "Oh! La Martiniere, I know quite well that it is you, my goodwoman, however much you try to disguise your voice; I also know thatBaptiste has gone into the country, and that you are alone in the housewith your mistress. You may confidently undo the door for me; you needhave no fear. For I must positively speak with your mistress, and thisvery minute." "Whatever are you thinking about?" replied La Martiniere."You want to speak to Mademoiselle in the middle of the night? Don'tyou know that she has been gone to bed a long time, and that for noprice would I wake her up out of her first sound sleep, which at hertime of life she has so much need of?" The person standing below said,"But I know that your mistress has only just laid aside her new romance_Clelie_, at which she labours so unremittingly; and she is now writingcertain verses which she intends to read to the Marchioness deMaintenon[2] to-morrow. I implore you, Madame Martiniere, have pity andopen me the door. I tell you the matter involves the saving of anunfortunate man from ruin,--that the honour, freedom, nay, that thelife of a man is dependent upon this moment, and I _must_ speak toMademoiselle. Recollect how your mistress's anger would rest upon youfor ever, if she learned that you had had the hard-heartedness to turnan unfortunate man away from her door when he came to supplicate herassistance." "But why do you come to appeal to my mistress's compassionat this unusual hour? Come again early in the morning," said LaMartiniere. The person below replied, "Does Destiny, then, heed timesand hours when it strikes, like the fatal flash, fraught withdestruction? When there is but a single moment longer in which rescueis still possible, ought assistance to be delayed? Open me the door;you need have nothing to fear from a poor defenceless wretch, who isdeserted of all the world, pursued and distressed by an awful fate,when he comes to beseech Mademoiselle to save him from threateningdanger?" La Martiniere heard the man below moaning and sobbing withanguish as he said these words, and at the same time the voice was thevoice of a young man, gentle, and gifted with the power of appealingstraight to the heart She was greatly touched; without much furtherdeliberation she fetched the keys.

  But hardly had she got the door opened when the figure enveloped in themantle burst tumultuously in, and striding past Martiniere into thepassage, cried wildly, "Lead me to your mistress!" In terror Martinierelifted up the candle, and its light fell upon a young man's face,deathly pale and fearfully agitated. Martiniere almost dropped on thefloor with fright, for the man now threw open his mantle and showed thebright hilt of a stiletto sticking out of the bosom of his doublet. Hiseyes flashed fire as he fixed them upon her, crying still more wildlythan before, "Lead me to your mistress, I tell you." Martiniere nowbelieved Mademoiselle was in the most imminent danger; and heraffection for her beloved mistress, whom she honoured, moreover, as hergood and faithful mother, burnt up stronger in her heart, enkindling acourage which she had not conceived herself capable of showing. Hastilypulling to the door of her chamber, which she had left standing open,she planted herself before it, and said in a strong firm voice, "I tellyou what, your mad behaviour in the house here, corresponds but illwith your plaintive words outside; I see clearly that I let my pity beexcited on a wrong occasion. You neither ought to, nor shall you, speakto my mistress now. If your intentions are not evil, you need not feardaylight; so come again to-morrow and state your business then. Now,begone with you out of the house." The man heaved a deep and painfulsigh, and fixing Martiniere with a formidable look, grasped hisstiletto. She silently commended her soul to Heaven, but manfully stoodher ground, and boldly met the man's gaze, at the same time drawingherself closer to the door, for through it the man would have to go toget to her mistress's chamber. "Let me go to your mistress, I tellyou!" cried the man again. "Do what you will," replied Martiniere, "Ishall not stir from this place. Go on and finish your wicked deed; butremember that you also will die a shameful death at the Place Greve,like your atrocious partners in crime." "Ah! yes, you are right, LaMartiniere," replied the man, "I do look like a villainous robber andcut-throat, and am armed like one, but my partners have not beenexecuted,--no, not yet." Therewith, hurling looks of furious wrath atthe poor woman, who was almost dead with terror, he drew his stiletto."O God! O God!" she exclaimed, expecting her death-blow; but atthis moment there was heard a rattle of arms in the street, and thehoof-strokes of horses. "The _Marechaussee_![3] the _Marechaussee_!Help! Help!" screamed Martiniere. "You abominable woman, you aredetermined to ruin me. All is lost now--it's all over. But here,here--take this. Give that to your mistress this very night--to-morrowif you like." Whispering these words, he snatched the light from LaMartiniere, extinguished it, and then forced a casket into her hands."By your hopes of salvation, I conjure you, give this casket toMademoiselle," cried the man; and he rushed out of the house.

  Martiniere fell to the floor; at length she rose up with difficulty,and groped her way back in the darkness to her own room, where she sankdown in an arm-chair completely exhausted, unable to utter a sound.Then she heard the keys rattle, which she had left in the lock of thestreet-door. The door was closed and locked, and she heard cautious,uncertain footsteps approaching her room. She sat riveted to the chairwithout power to move, expecting something terrible to happen. But hersensations may be imagined when the door opened, and by the light ofthe night-taper she recognised at the first glance that it was honestBaptiste, looking very pale and greatly troubled. "In the name of allthe saints!" he began, "tell me, Dame Martiniere, what has happened?Oh! the anxiety and fear I have had! I don't know what it was, bu
tsomething drove me away from the wedding last evening. I couldn't helpmyself; I had to come. On getting into our street, I thought. DameMartiniere sleeps lightly, she'll be sure to hear me, thinks I, if Itap softly and gently at the door, and will come out and let me in.Then there comes a strong patrol on horseback as well as on foot, allarmed to the teeth, and they stop me and won't let me go on. Butluckily Desgrais the lieutenant of the _Marechaussee_, is amongst them,who knows me quite well; and when they put their lanterns under mynose, he says, 'Why, Baptiste, where are you coming from at this timeo' night? You'd better stay quietly in the house and take care of itThere's some deviltry at work, and we are hoping to make a good captureto-night.' You wouldn't believe how heavy these words fell on my heart.Dame Martiniere. And then when I put my foot on the threshold, therecomes a man, all muffled up, rushing out of the house with a drawndagger in his hand, and he runs over me--head over heels. The door wasopen, and the keys sticking in the lock. Oh! tell me what it allmeans." Martiniere, relieved of her terrible fear and anxiety, relatedall that had taken place.

  Then she and Baptiste went out into the passage, and there they foundthe candlestick lying on the floor where the stranger had thrown it ashe ran away. "It is only too certain," said Baptiste, "that ourMademoiselle would have been robbed, ay, and even murdered, I make nodoubt. The fellow knew, as you say, that you were alone withMademoiselle,--why, he also knew that she was awake with her writings.I would bet anything it was one of those cursed rogues and thieves whoforce their way right into the houses, cunningly spying out everythingthat may be of use to them in carrying out their infernal plans. And asfor that little casket, Dame Martiniere--I think we'd better throw itinto the Seine where it's deepest. Who can answer for it that there'snot some wicked monster got designs on our good lady's life, and thatif she opens the box she won't fall down dead like old Marquis deTournay did, when he opened a letter that came from somebody he didn'tknow?"

  After a long consultation the two faithful souls made up their minds totell their mistress everything next morning, and also to place themysterious casket in her hands, for of course it could be opened withproper precautions. After minutely weighing every circumstanceconnected with the suspicious stranger's appearance, they were both ofthe same opinion, namely, that there was some special mystery connectedwith the matter, which they durst not attempt to control single-handed;they must leave it to their good lady to unriddle.

  Baptiste's apprehensions were well founded. Just at that time Paris wasthe scene of the most abominable atrocities, and exactly at the sameperiod the most diabolical invention of Satan was made, to offer thereadiest means for committing these deeds.

  Glaser, a German apothecary, the best chemist of his age, had busiedhimself, as people of his profession were in the habit of doing, withalchemistical experiments. He had made it the object of his endeavourto discover the Philosopher's Stone. His coadjutor was an Italian ofthe name of Exili. But this man only practised alchemy as a blind. Hisreal object was to learn all about the mixing and decoction andsublimating of poisonous compounds, by which Glaser on his part hopedto make his fortune; and at last he succeeded in fabricating thatsubtle poison[4] that is without smell and without taste, that killseither on the spot or gradually and slowly, without ever leaving theslightest trace in the human body, and that deceives all the skill andart of the physicians, since, not suspecting the presence of poison,they fail not to ascribe the death to natural causes. Circumspectly asExili[5] went to work, he nevertheless fell under the suspicion ofbeing a seller of poison, and was thrown into the Bastille. Soonafterwards Captain Godin de Sainte Croix was confined in the samedungeon. This man had for a long time been living in relations with theMarchioness de Brinvillier,[6] which brought disgrace on all thefamily; so at last, as the Marquis continued indifferent to his wife'sshameful conduct, her father, Dreux d'Aubray, _Civil Lieutenant_ ofParis, compelled the guilty pair to part by means of a warrant whichwas executed upon the Captain. Passionate, unprincipled, hypocriticallyfeigning to be pious, and yet inclined from his youth up to all kindsof vice, jealous, revengeful even to madness, the Captain could nothave met with any more welcome information than that contained inExili's diabolical secret, since it would give him the power toannihilate all his enemies. He became an eager scholar of Exili, andsoon came to be as clever as his master, so that, on being liberatedfrom the Bastille, he was in a position to work on unaided.

  Before an abandoned woman, De Brinvillier became through Sainte Croix'sinstrumentality a monster. He contrived to induce her to poisonsuccessively her own father, with whom she was living, tending withheartless hypocrisy his declining days, and then her two brothers, andfinally her sister,--her father out of revenge, and the others onaccount of the rich family inheritance. From the histories of severalpoisoners we have terrible examples how the commission of crimes ofthis class becomes at last an all-absorbing passion. Often, without anyfurther purpose than the mere vile pleasure of the thing, just aschemists make experiments for their own enjoyment, have poisonersdestroyed persons whose life or death must have been to them a matterof perfect indifference.

  The sudden decease of several poor people in the Hotel Dieu some timeafterwards excited the suspicion that the bread had been poisoned whichBrinvillier, in order to acquire a reputation for piety andbenevolence, used to distribute there every week. At any rate, it isundoubtedly true that she was in the habit of serving the guests whomshe invited to her house with poisoned pigeon pie. The Chevalier deGuet and several other persons fell victims to these hellish banquets.Sainte Croix, his confederate La Chaussee,[7] and Brinvillier were ablefor a long time to enshroud their horrid deeds behind an impenetrableveil. But of what avail is the infamous cunning of reprobate men whenthe Divine Power has decreed that punishment shall overtake the guiltyhere on earth?

  The poisons which Sainte Croix prepared were of so subtle a nature thatif the powder (called by the Parisians _Pondre de Succession_, orSuccession Powder) were prepared with the face exposed, a singleinhalation of it might cause instantaneous death. Sainte Croixtherefore, when engaged in its manufacture, always wore a mask made offine glass. One day, just as he was pouring a prepared powder into aphial, his mask fell off, and, inhaling the fine particles of thepoison, he fell down dead on the spot. As he had died without heirs,the officers of the law hastened to place his effects under seal.Amongst them they found a locked box, which contained the whole of theinfernal arsenal of poisons that the abandoned wretch Sainte Croix hadhad at command; they also found Brinvillier's letters, which left nodoubt as to her atrocious crimes. She fled to Liege, into a conventthere. Desgrais, an officer of the _Marechaussee_, was sent after her.In the disguise of a monk he arrived at the convent where she hadconcealed herself, and contrived to engage the terrible woman in a loveintrigue, and finally, under the pretext of a secret meeting, to enticeher out to a lonely garden beyond the precincts of the town. Directlyshe arrived at the appointed place she was surrounded by Desgrais'satellites, whilst her monkish lover was suddenly converted into anofficer of the _Marechaussee_, who compelled her to get into thecarriage which stood ready near the garden; and, surrounded by thepolice troop, she was driven straight off to Paris. La Chaussee hadbeen already beheaded somewhat earlier; Brinvillier suffered the samedeath, after which her body was burned and the ashes scattered to thewinds.

  Now that the monster who had been able to direct his secret murderousweapons against both friend and foe alike unpunished was out of theworld, the Parisians breathed freely once more. But it soon becameknown abroad that the villain Sainte Croix's abominable art had beenhanded down to certain successors. Like a malignant invisible spirit,murder insinuated itself into the most intimate circles, even theclosest of those formed by relationship and love and friendship, andlaid a quick sure grasp upon its unfortunate victims. He who was seenone day in the full vigour of health, tottered about the next a weakwasting invalid, and no skill of the physician could save him fromdeath. Wealth, a lucrative office, a beautiful and perhaps too you
ng awife--any of these was sufficient to draw down upon the possessor thispersecution unto death. The most sacred ties were severed by thecruellest mistrust. The husband trembled at his wife, the father at hisson, the sister at the brother. The dishes remained untouched, and thewine at the dinner, which a friend put before his friends; and therewhere formerly jest and mirth had reigned supreme, savage glances werenow spying about for the masked murderer. Fathers of families wereobserved buying provisions in remote districts with uneasy looks andmovements, and preparing them themselves in the first dirty cook-shopthey came to, since they feared diabolical treachery in their ownhomes. And yet even the greatest and most well-considered precautionswere in many cases of no avail.

  In order to put a stop to this iniquitous state of things, whichcontinued to gain ground and grow greater day by day, the kingappointed a special court of justice for the exclusive purpose ofinquiring into and punishing these secret crimes. This was theso-called _Chambre Ardente_, which held its sittings not far from theBastille, its acting president being La Regnie.[8] For a considerableperiod all his efforts, however zealously they were prosecuted,remained fruitless; it was reserved for the crafty Desgrais to discoverthe most secret haunts of the criminals. In the Faubourg St. Germainthere lived an old woman called Voisin, who made a regular business offortune-telling and raising departed spirits; and with the help of herconfederates Le Sage and Le Vigoureux, she managed to excite fear andastonishment in the minds of persons who could not be called exactlyeither weak or credulous. But she did more than this. A pupil of Exili,like La Croix, she, like him, concocted the same subtle poison thatkilled and left no trace behind it; and so she helped in this wayprofligate sons to get early possession of their inheritance, anddepraved wives to another and younger husband. Desgrais wormed his wayinto her secret; she confessed all; the _Chambre Ardente_ condemned herto be burned alive, and the sentence was executed in the Place Greve.

  Amongst her effects was found a list of all the persons who had availedthemselves of her assistance; and hence it was that not only didexecution follow upon execution, but grave suspicion fell even uponpersons of high position. Thus it was believed that Cardinal Bonzy hadobtained from La Voisin the means of bringing to an untimely end allthose persons to whom, as Archbishop of Narbonne, he was obliged to payannuities. So also the Duchess de Bouillon, and the Countess deSoissons,[9] whose names were found on the list, were accused of havinghad dealings with the diabolical woman; and even Francois Henri deMontmorenci, Boudebelle, Duke of Luxemburg,[10] peer and marshal of thekingdom, was not spared. He too was prosecuted by the terrible _ChambreArdente_. He voluntarily gave himself up to be imprisoned in theBastille, where through Louvois'[11] and La Regnie's hatred he wasconfined in a cell only six feet long. Months passed before it was madeout satisfactorily that the Duke's transgression did not deserve anyblame: he had once had his horoscope cast by Le Sage.

  It is certain that the President La Regnie was betrayed by his blindzeal into acts of cruelty and arbitrary violence. The tribunal acquiredthe character of an Inquisition; the most trifling suspicion wassufficient to entail strict incarceration; and it was left to chance toestablish the innocence of a person accused of a capital crime.Moreover, La Regnie was hideous in appearance, and of a malicioustemperament, so that he soon drew down upon himself the hatred of thosewhose avenger or protector he was appointed to be. The Duchess deBouillon, being asked by him during her trial if she had seen thedevil, replied, "I fancy I can see him at this moment."[12]

  But whilst the blood of the guilty and the suspected alike was flowingin streams in the Place Greve, and after a time the secret poisoningsbecame less and less frequent, a new kind of outrage came to light, andagain filled the city with dismay. It seemed as if a band of miscreantrobbers were in league together for the purpose of getting into theirpossession all the jewellery they could. No sooner was any valuableornament purchased than, no matter how or where kept, it vanished in aninconceivable way. But what was still worse, any one who ventured towear jewellery on his person at night was robbed, and often murderedeven, either in the public street or in the dark passage of a house.Those who escaped with their lives declared that they had been knockeddown by a blow on the head, which felled them like a lightning flash,and that on awaking from their stupor they had found that they had beenrobbed and were lying in quite a different place from that where theyhad received the blow. All who were murdered, some of whom were foundnearly every morning lying either in the streets or in the houses, hadall one and the same fatal wound,--a dagger-thrust in the heart,killing, according to the judgment of the surgeons, so instantaneouslyand so surely that the victim would drop down like a stone, unable toutter a sound. Who was there at the voluptuous court of Louis XIV. whowas not entangled in some clandestine intrigue, and stole to hismistress at a late hour, often carrying a valuable present about him?The robbers, as if they were in league with spirits, knew almostexactly when anything of this sort was on foot. Often the unfortunatedid not reach the house where he expected to meet with the reward ofhis passion; often he fell on the threshold, nay, at the very chamberdoor of his mistress, who was horrified at finding the bloody corpse.

  In vain did Argenson, the Minister of Police, order the arrest of everyperson from amongst the populace against whom there was the leastsuspicion; in vain did La Regnie rage and try to extort confessions; invain did they strengthen their watch and their patrols;--they could notfind a trace of the evil-doers. The only thing that did to a certainextent avail was to take the precaution of going armed to the teeth andhave a torch carried before one; and yet instances were not wanting inwhich the servant was annoyed by stones thrown at him, whilst at thesame moment his master was murdered and robbed. It was especiallyremarkable that, in spite of all inquiries in every place where trafficin jewellery was in any way possible, not the smallest specimen of thestolen ornaments ever came to light, and so in this way also no cluewas found which might have been followed.

  Desgrais was furious that the miscreants should thus baffle all hiscunning. The quarter of the town in which he happened to be stationedwas spared; whilst in the others, where nobody apprehended any evil,these robberies and murders claimed their richest victims.

  Desgrais hit upon the ruse of making several Desgrais one after theother, so exactly alike in gait, posture, speech, figure, and face,that the myrmidons of the police themselves did not know which was thereal Desgrais. Meanwhile, at the risk of his own life, he used to watchalone in the most secret haunts and lairs of crime, and follow at adistance first this man and then that, who at his own instance carriedsome valuable jewellery about his person. These men, however, were notattacked; and hence the robbers must be acquainted with thiscontrivance also. Desgrais absolutely despaired.

  One morning Desgrais came to President La Regnie pale and perturbed,quite distracted in fact. "What's the matter? What news? Have you got aclue?" cried the President "Oh! your excellency," began Desgrais,stammering with rage, "oh! your excellency--last night--not far fromthe Louvre--the Marquis de la Fare[13] was attacked in my presence.""By Heaven then!" shouted La Regnie, exultant with joy, "we have them.""But first listen to me," interrupted Desgrais with a bitter smile,"and hear how it all came about. Well then, I was standing near theLouvre on the watch for these devils who mock me, and my heart was onfire with fury. Then there came a figure close past me without noticingme, walking with unsteady steps and looking behind him. By the faintmoonlight I saw that it was Marquis de la Fare. I was not surprised tosee him; I knew where he was stealing to. But he had not gone more thanten or twelve paces past me when a man started up right out of theearth as it seemed and knocked him down, and stooped over him. In thesudden surprise and on the impulse of the moment, which would else havedelivered the murderer into my hands, I was thoughtless enough to cryout; and I was just bursting out of my hiding-place with a rush,intending to throw myself upon him, when I got entangled in my mantleand fell down. I saw the man hurrying away on the wings of the wind; Imade haste and picked
myself up and ran after him; and as I ran I blewmy horn; from the distance came the answering whistles of the man; thestreets were all alive; there was a rattle of arms and a trampling ofhorses in all directions. 'Here! here! Desgrais! Desgrais!' I shoutedtill the streets echoed. By the bright moonlight I could always see theman in front of me, doubling here and there to deceive me. We cameto the Rue Nicaise, and there his strength appeared to fail him:I redoubled my efforts; and he only led me by fifteen paces at themost"---- "You caught him up; you seized him; the patrol came up?"cried La Regnie, his eyes flashing, whilst he seized Desgrais bythe arm as though he were the flying murderer. "Fifteen paces,"continued Desgrais in a hollow voice and with difficulty drawing hisbreath--"fifteen paces from me the man sprang aside into the shade anddisappeared through the wall." "Disappeared?--through the wall? Are youmad?" cried La Regnie, taking a couple of steps backwards and strikinghis hands together.

  "From this moment onwards," continued Desgrais, rubbing his brow like aman tormented by hateful thoughts, "your excellency may call me amadman or an insane ghost-seer, but it was just as I have told you. Iwas standing staring at the wall like one petrified when several men ofthe patrol hurried up breathless, and along with them Marquis de laFare, who had picked himself up, with his drawn sword in his hand. Welighted the torches, and sounded the wall backwards and forwards,--notan indication of a door or a window or an opening. It was a strongstone wall bounding a yard, and was joined on to a house in which livepeople against whom there has never risen the slightest suspicion.To-day I have again taken a careful survey of the whole place. It mustbe the Devil himself who is mystifying us."

  Desgrais' story became known in Paris. People's heads were full of thesorceries and incantations and compacts with Satan of Voisin,Vigoureuse, and the reprobate priest Le Sage; and as in the eternalnature of us men, the leaning to the marvellous and the wonderful sooften outweighs all the authority of reason, so the public soon beganto believe simply and solely that as Desgrais in his mortification hadsaid, Satan himself really did protect the abominable wretches, whomust have sold their souls to him. It will readily be believed thatDesgrais' story received all sorts of ornamental additions. An accountof the adventure, with a woodcut on the title-page representing a grimSatanic form before which the terrified Desgrais was sinking in theearth, was printed and largely sold at the street corners. This alonewas enough to overawe the people, and even to rob the myrmidons of thepolice of their courage, who now wandered about the streets at nighttrembling and quaking, hung about with amulets and soaked in holywater.

  Argenson perceived that the exertions of the _Chambre Ardente_ were ofno avail, and he appealed to the king to appoint a tribunal with stillmore extensive powers to deal with this new epidemic of crime, to huntup the evil-doers, and to punish them. The king, convinced that he hadalready vested too much power in the _Chambre Ardente_ and shaken withhorror at the numberless executions which the bloodthirsty La Regniehad decreed, flatly refused to entertain the proposed plan.

  Another means was chosen to stimulate the king's interest in thematter.

  Louis was in the habit of spending the afternoon in Madame deMaintenon's salons, and also despatching state business therewith hisministers until a late hour at night. Here a poem was presented to himin the name of the jeopardised lovers, complaining that, whenevergallantry bid them honour their mistress with a present, they hadalways to risk their lives on the fulfilment of the injunction. Therewas always both honour and pleasure to be won in shedding their bloodfor their lady in a knightly encounter; but it was quite another thingwhen they had to deal with a stealthy malignant assassin, against whomthey could not arm themselves. Would Louis, the bright polar star ofall love and gallantry, cause the resplendent beams of his glory toshine and dissipate this dark night, and so unveil the black mysterythat was concealed within it? The god-like hero, who had broken hisenemies to pieces, would now (they hoped) draw his sword glitteringwith victory, and, as Hercules did against the Lernean serpent, orTheseus the Minotaur, would fight against the threatening monster whichwas gnawing away all the raptures of love, and darkening all their joyand converting it into deep pain and grief inconsolable.

  Serious as the matter was, yet the poem did not lack clever and wittyturns, especially in the description of the anxieties which the lovershad to endure as they stole by secret ways to their mistresses, and ofhow their apprehensions proved fatal to all the rapturous delights oflove and to every dainty gallant adventure before it could even developinto blossom. If it be added that the poem was made to conclude with amagniloquent panegyric upon Louis XIV., the king could not fail to readit with visible signs of satisfaction. Having reached the end of it, heturned round abruptly to Madame de Maintenon, without lifting his eyesfrom the paper, and read the poem through again aloud; after which heasked her with a gracious smile what was her opinion with respect tothe wishes of the jeopardised lovers.

  De Maintenon, faithful to the serious bent of her mind, and alwayspreserving a certain colour of piety, replied that those who walkedalong secret and forbidden paths were not worthy of any specialprotection, but that the abominable criminals did call for specialmeasures to be taken for their destruction. The king, dissatisfied withthis wavering answer, folded up the paper, and was going back to theSecretary of State, who was working in the next room, when on casting aglance sideways his eye fell upon Mademoiselle de Scuderi, who waspresent in the salon and had taken her seat in a small easy-chair notfar from De Maintenon. Her he now approached, whilst the pleasant smilewhich at first had played about his mouth and on his cheeks, but hadthen disappeared, now won the upper hand again. Standing immediately infront of Mademoiselle, and unfolding the poem once more, he saidsoftly, "Our Marchioness will not countenance in any way thegallantries of our amorous gentlemen, and give us evasive answers of akind that are almost quite forbidden. But you, Mademoiselle, what isyour opinion of this poetic petition?" De Scuderi rose respectfullyfrom her chair, whilst a passing blush flitted like the purple sunsetrays in evening across the venerable lady's pale cheeks, and she said,bowing gently and casting down her eyes,

  "Un amant qui craint les voleurs N'est point digne d'amour."

  (A lover who is afraid of robbers is not worthy of love.)

  The king, greatly struck by the chivalric spirit breathed in these fewwords, which upset the whole of the poem with its yards and yards oftirades, cried with sparkling eyes, "By St. Denis, you are right.Mademoiselle! Cowardice shall not be protected by any blind measureswhich would affect the innocent along with the guilty; Argenson and LaRegnie must do their best as they are."

  All these horrors of the day La Martiniere depicted next morning instartling colours when she related to her mistress the occurrence ofthe previous night; and she handed over to her the mysterious casket infear and trembling. Both she and Baptiste, who stood in the corner aspale as death, twisting and doubling up his night-cap, and hardly ableto speak in his fear and anxiety,--both begged Mademoiselle in the mostpiteous terms and in the names of all the saints, to use the utmostpossible caution in opening the box. De Scuderi, weighing the lockedmystery in her hand, and subjecting it to a careful scrutiny, saidsmiling, "You are both of you ghost-seers! That I am not rich, thatthere are not sufficient treasures here to be worth a murder, is knownto all these abandoned assassins, who, you yourself tell me, spy outall that there is in a house, as well as it is to me and you. You thinkthey have designs upon my life? Who could make capital out of the deathof an old lady of seventy-three, who never did harm to anybody in theworld except the miscreants and peace-breakers in the romances whichshe writes herself, who makes middling verses which can excite nobody'senvy, who will have nothing to leave except the state dresses of an oldmaid who sometimes went to court, and a dozen or two well-bound bookswith gilt edges? And then you, Martiniere,--you may describe thestranger's appearance as frightful as you like, yet I cannot believethat his intentions were evil. So then----"

  La Martiniere recoiled some paces
, and Baptiste, uttering a stifled"Oh!" almost sank upon his knees as Mademoiselle proceeded to pressupon a projecting steel knob; then the lid flew back with a noisy jerk.

  But how astonished was she to see a pair of gold bracelets, richly setwith jewels, and a necklace to match. She took them out of the case;and whilst she was praising the exquisite workmanship of the necklace,Martiniere was eyeing the valuable bracelets, and crying time aftertime, that the vain Lady Montespan herself had no such ornaments asthese. "But what is it for? what does it all mean?" said De Scuderi.But at this same moment she observed a small slip of paper foldedtogether, lying at the bottom of the casket. She hoped, and rightly, tofind in it an explanation of the mystery. She had hardly finishedreading the contents of the scrip when it fell from her tremblinghands. She sent an appealing glance towards Heaven, and then fell backalmost fainting into her chair. Terrified, Martiniere sprang to herassistance, and so also did Baptiste. "Oh! what an insult!" sheexclaimed, her voice half-choked with tears, "Oh! what a burning shame!Must I then endure this in my old age? Have I then gone and acted withwrong and foolish levity like some young giddy thing? O God, are wordslet fall half in jest capable of being stamped with such an atrociousinterpretation? And am I, who have been faithful to virtue, and ofblameless piety from my earliest childhood until now,--am I to beaccused of the crime of making such a diabolical compact?"

  Mademoiselle held her handkerchief to her eyes and wept and sobbedbitterly, so that Martiniere and Baptiste were both of them confusedand rendered helpless by embarrassed constraint, not knowing what to doto help their mistress in her great trouble.

  Martiniere picked up the ominous strip of paper from the floor. Upon itwas written--

  "Un amant qui craint les voleurs N'est point digne d'amour.

  "Your sagacious mind, honoured lady, has saved us from greatpersecution. We only exercise the right of the stronger over the weakand the cowardly in order to appropriate to ourselves treasures thatwould else be disgracefully squandered. Kindly accept these jewels as atoken of our gratitude. They are the most brilliant that we have beenenabled to meet with for a long time; and yet you, honoured lady, oughtto be adorned with jewellery even still finer than this is. We trustyou will not withdraw from us your friendship and kind remembrance.

  "THE INVISIBLES."[14]

  "Is it possible?" exclaimed De Scuderi after she had to some extentrecovered herself, "is it possible for men to carry their shamelessinsolence, their godless scorn, to such lengths?" The sun shonebrightly through the dark-red silk window curtains and made thebrilliants which lay on the table beside the open casket to sparkle inthe reddish gleam. Chancing to cast her eyes upon them, De Scuderi hidher face with abhorrence, and bade Martiniere take the fearfuljewellery away at once, that very moment, for the blood of the murderedvictims was still adhering to it. Martiniere at once carefully lockedthe necklace and bracelets in the casket again, and thought that thewisest plan would be to hand it over to the Minister of Police, and toconfide to him every thing connected with the appearance of the youngman who had caused them so much uneasiness, and the way in which he hadplaced the casket in her hands.

  De Scuderi rose to her feet and slowly paced up and down the room insilence, as if she were only now reflecting what was to be done. Shethen bade Baptiste fetch a sedan chair, while Martiniere was to dressher, for she meant to go straight to the Marchioness de Maintenon.

  She had herself carried to the Marchioness's just at the hour when sheknew she should find that lady alone in her salons. The casket with thejewellery De Scuderi also took with her.

  Of course the Marchioness was greatly astonished to see Mademoiselle,who was generally a pattern of dignity, amiability (notwithstanding heradvanced age), and gracefulness, come in with tottering steps, pale,and excessively agitated. "By all the saints, what's happened to you?"she cried when she saw the poor troubled lady, who, almost distractedand hardly able to walk erect, hurried to reach the easy-chair which DeMaintenon pushed towards her. At length, having recovered her power ofspeech somewhat, Mademoiselle related what a deep insult--she shouldnever get over it--her thoughtless jest in answer to the petition ofthe jeopardised lovers had brought upon her. The Marchioness, afterlearning the whole of the story by fragments, arrived at the conclusionthat De Scuderi took the strange occurrence far too much to heart, thatthe mockery of depraved wretches like these could never come home to apious, noble mind like hers, and finally she requested to see theornaments.

  De Scuderi gave her the open casket; and the Marchioness, on seeing thecostly jewellery, could not help uttering a loud cry of admiration. Shetook out the necklace and the bracelets, and approached the window withthem, where first she let the sun play upon the stones, and then sheheld them up close to her eyes in order to see better the exquisiteworkmanship of the gold, and to admire the marvellous skill with whichevery little link in the elaborate chain was finished. All at once theMarchioness turned round abruptly towards Mademoiselle and cried, "Itell you what, Mademoiselle, these bracelets and necklace must havebeen made by no less a person than Rene Cardillac."

  Rene Cardillac was at that time the most skilful goldsmith in Paris,and also one of the most ingenious as well as one of the most eccentricmen of the age. Rather small than great, but broad-shouldered and witha strong and muscular frame, Cardillac, although considerably more thanfifty, still possessed the strength and activity of youth. And hisstrength, which might be said to be something above the common, wasfurther evidenced by his abundant curly reddish hair, and his thick-setfeatures and the sultry gleam upon them. Had not Cardillac been knownthroughout all Paris, as one of the most honest and honourable of men,disinterested, frank, without any reserve, always ready to help, thevery peculiar appearance of his eyes, which were small, deep-set,green, and glittering, might have drawn upon him the suspicion oflurking malice and viciousness.

  As already said, Cardillac was the greatest master in his trade, notonly in Paris, but also perhaps of his age. Intimately acquainted withthe properties of precious stones, he knew how to treat them and setthem in such a manner that an ornament which had at first been lookedupon as wanting in lustre, proceeded out of Cardillac's shop possessinga dazzling magnificence. Every commission he accepted with burningavidity, and fixed a price that seemed to bear no proportion whateverto the work to be done--so small was it. Then the work gave him norest; both night and day he was heard hammering in his work-shop, andoften when the thing was nearly finished he would suddenly conceive adislike to the form; he had doubts as to the elegance of the setting ofsome or other of the jewels, of a little link--quite a sufficientreason for throwing all into the crucible, and beginning the entirework over again. Thus every individual piece of jewellery that heturned out was a perfect and matchless masterpiece, utterly astoundingto the person who had given the commission.

  But it was now hardly possible to get any work that was once finishedout of his hands. Under a thousand pretexts he put off the owner fromweek to week, and from month to month. It was all in vain to offer himdouble for the work; he would not take a single _Louis d'or_[15] morethan the price bargained for. When at last he was obliged to yield tothe insistence of his customer, he could not help betraying all thesigns of the greatest annoyance, nay, of even fury seething in hisheart. If the piece of work which he had to deliver up was something ofmore than ordinary importance, especially anything of great value,worth many thousands owing to the costliness of the jewels or theextreme delicacy of the gold-work, he was capable of running about likea madman, cursing himself, his labour, and all about him. But then ifany person came up behind him and shouted, "Rene Cardillac, would younot like to make a beautiful necklace for my betrothed?--braceletsfor my sweet-heart," or so forth, he would suddenly stop still, andlooking at him with his little eyes, would ask, as he rubbed hishands, "Well, what have you got?" Thereupon the other would produce asmall jewel-case, and say, "Oh! some jewels--see; they are nothingparticular, only common thi
ngs, but in your hands"---- Cardillac doesnot let him finish what he has to say, but snatching the case out ofhis hand takes out the stones (which are in reality of but littlevalue) and holds them up to the light, crying enraptured, "Ho! ho!common things, are they? Not at all! Pretty stones--magnificent stones;only let me make them up for you. And if you're not squeamish to ahandful or two of _Louis d'or_, I can add a few more little gems, whichshall sparkle in your eyes like the great sun himself." The other says,"I will leave it all to you, Master Rene, and pay you what you like."

  Then, without making any difference whether his customer is a richcitizen only or an eminent nobleman of the court, Cardillac throws hisarms impetuously round his neck and embraces him and kisses him, sayingthat now he is quite happy again, and the work will be finished in aweek's time. Running off home with breathless speed and up into hisworkshop, he begins to hammer away, and at the week's end has produceda masterpiece of art But when the customer comes prepared to pay withjoy the insignificant sum demanded, and expecting to take the finishedornament away with him, Cardillac gets testy, rude, obstinate, and hardto deal with. "But, Master Cardillac, recollect that my wedding isto-morrow."--"But what have I to do with your wedding? come again in afortnight's time." "The ornament is finished; here is your money; and Imust have it." "And I tell you that I've lots of things to alter in it,and I shan't let you have it to-day." "And I tell you that if you won'tdeliver up the ornament by fair means--of course I am willing to payyou double for it--you shall soon see me march up with Argenson'sserviceable underlings."--"Well, then, may Satan torture you withscores of red-hot pincers, and hang three hundredweight on the necklacetill it strangle your bride." And therewith, thrusting the jewelleryinto the bridegroom's breast pocket, Cardillac seizes him by the armand turns him roughly out of the door, so that he goes stumbling alldown the stairs. Then Cardillac puts his head out of the window andlaughs like a demon on seeing the poor young man limp out of the house,holding his handkerchief to his bloody nose.

  But one thing there was about him that was quite inexplicable. Often,after he had enthusiastically taken a piece of work in hand, he wouldimplore his customer by the Virgin and all the saints, with every signof deep and violent agitation, and with moving protestations, nay,amidst tears and sobs, that he might be released from his engagement.Several persons who were most highly esteemed of the king and thepeople had vainly offered large sums of money to get the smallest pieceof work from him. He threw himself at the king's feet and besought as afavour at his hands that he might not be asked to do any work for him.In the same way he refused every commission from De Maintenon; he evenrejected with aversion and horror the proposal she made him tofabricate for her a little ring with emblematic ornaments, which was tobe presented to Racine.

  Accordingly De Maintenon now said, "I would wager that if I sent forCardillac to come here to tell me at least for whom he made theseornaments, he would refuse to come, since he would probably fear it wassome commission; and he never will make anything for me on any account.And yet he has, it seems, dropped something of his inflexible obstinacysome time ago, for I hear that he now labours more industriously thanever, and delivers up his work at once, though still not without muchinward vexation and turning away of his face." De Scuderi, who wasgreatly concerned that the ornaments should, if it could possibly bemanaged, come soon into the hands of the proper owner, thought theymight send express word to Master Whimsicality that they did not wanthim to do any work, but only to pass his opinion upon some jewels. Thiscommended itself to the Marchioness. Cardillac was sent for; and, asthough he had been already on the way, after a brief interval hestepped into the room.

  On observing De Scuderi he appeared to be embarrassed; and, like oneconfounded by something so utterly unexpected that he forgets theclaims of propriety such as the moment demands, he first made a low andreverential obeisance to this venerable lady, and then only did he turnto the Marchioness. She, pointing to the jewellery, which now layglittering on the dark-green table-cloth, asked him hastily if it wasof his workmanship. Hardly glancing at it, and keeping his eyessteadily fixed upon De Maintenon, Cardillac hurriedly packed thenecklace and bracelets into the casket, which stood beside them, andpushed it violently away from him. Then he said, whilst a forbiddingsmile gleamed in his red face, "By my honour, noble lady, he would havebut a poor acquaintance with Rene Cardillac's workmanship who shouldbelieve for a single moment that any other goldsmith in the world couldset a piece of jewellery like that is done. Of course it's myhandiwork." "Then tell me," continued the Marchioness, "for whom youmade these ornaments." "For myself alone," replied Cardillac. "Ah! Idare say your ladyship finds that strange," he continued, since bothshe and De Scuderi had fixed their eyes upon him astounded, the formerfull of mistrust, the latter of anxious suspense as to what turn thematter would take next; "but it is so. Merely out of love for mybeautiful handicraft I picked out all my best stones and gladly set towork upon them, exercising more industry and care over them than I hadever done over any stones before. A short time ago the ornamentsdisappeared in some inconceivable way out of my workshop." "ThankHeaven!" cried De Scuderi, whilst her eyes sparkled with joy, and shejumped up from her chair as quick and nimble as a young girl; thengoing up to Cardillac, she placed both her hands upon his shoulders,and said, "Here, Master Rene, take your property back again, whichthese rascally miscreants stole from you." And she related every detailof how she had acquired possession of the ornaments, to all of whichCardillac listened silently, with his eyes cast down upon the floor.Only now and again he uttered an indistinct "Hm!--So!--Ho! ho!" nowthrowing his hands behind his back, and now softly stroking his chinand cheeks.

  When De Scuderi came to the end of her story, Cardillac appeared to bestruggling with some new and striking thought which had occurred to himduring the course of it, and as though he were labouring with somerebellious resolve that refused to conform to his wishes. He rubbed hisforehead, sighed, drew his hand across his eyes, as if to check tearswhich were gushing from them. At length he seized the casket which DeScuderi was holding out towards him, and slowly sinking upon one knee,said, "These jewels have been decreed to you, my noble and respectedlady, by Destiny. Yes, now I know that it was you I thought about whenI was labouring at them, and that it was for you I worked. Do notdisdain to accept these ornaments, nor refuse to wear them; they areindeed the best things I have made for a very long time." "Why, why,Master Rene," replied De Scuderi, in a charming, jesting manner; "whatare you thinking about? Would it become me at my years to trick myselfout with such bright gems? And what makes you think of giving me suchan over-rich present? Nay, nay, Master Rene. Now if I were beautifullike the Marchioness de Fontange,[16] and rich too, I assure you Ishould not let these ornaments pass out of my hands; but what do thesewithered arms want with vain show, and this covered neck withglittering ornaments?" Meanwhile Cardillac had risen to his feet again;and whilst persistently holding out the casket towards De Scuderi hesaid, like one distracted--and his looks were wild and uneasy,--"Havepity upon me, Mademoiselle, and take the ornaments. You don't know whatgreat respect I cherish in my heart for your virtue and your high goodqualities. Accept this little present as an effort on my behalf to showmy deep respect and devotion." But as De Scuderi still continued tohesitate, De Maintenon took the casket out of Cardillac's hands,saying, "Upon my word, Mademoiselle, you are always talking about yourgreat age. What have we, you and I, to do with years and their burdens?And aren't you acting just like a shy young thing, who would only toowell like to take the sweet fruit that is offered to her if she couldonly do so without stirring either hand or finger? Don't refuse toaccept from our good Master Rene as a free gift what scores of otherscould never get, in spite of all their gold and all their prayers andentreaties."

  Whilst speaking De Maintenon had forced the casket into Mademoiselle'shand; and now Cardillac again fell upon his knees and kissed DeScuderi's gown and hands, sighing and gasping, weeping and sobbing;then he jumped up and ran off like a madman, as fast as
he could run,upsetting chairs and tables in his senseless haste, and making theglasses and porcelain tumble together with a ring and jingle and clash.

  De Scuderi cried out quite terrified, "Good Heavens! what's happened tothe man?" But the Marchioness, who was now in an especially lively moodand in such a pert humour as was in general quite foreign to her, burstout into a silvery laugh, and said, "Now, I've got it, Mademoiselle.Master Rene has fallen desperately in love with you, and according tothe established form and settled usage of all true gallantry, he isbeginning to storm your heart with rich presents." She even pushed herraillery further, admonishing De Scuderi not to be too cruel towardsher despairing lover, until Mademoiselle, letting her natural-bornhumour have play, was carried away by the bubbling stream of merryconceits and fancies. She thought that if that was really the state ofthe case, she should be at last conquered and would not be able to helpaffording to the world the unprecedented example of a goldsmith'sbride, of untarnished nobility, of the age of three and seventy. DeMaintenon offered her services to weave the wedding-wreath, and toinstruct her in the duties of a good house-wife, since such a snippetybit of a girl could not of course know much about such things.

  But when at length De Scuderi rose to say adieu to the Marchioness, sheagain, notwithstanding all their laughing jests, grew very grave as shetook the jewel-case in her hand, and said, "And yet, Marchioness, doyou know, I can never wear these ornaments. Whatever be their history,they have at some time or other been in the hands of those diabolicalwretches who commit robbery and murder with all the effrontery of Satanhimself; nay, I believe they must be in an unholy league with him. Ishudder with awe at the sight of the blood which appears to adhere tothe glittering stones. And then, I must confess, I cannot help feelingthat there is something strangely uneasy and awe-inspiring aboutCardillac's behaviour. I cannot get rid of the dark presentiment thatbehind all this there is lurking some fearful and terrible secret; butwhen, on the other hand, I pass the whole matter with all itscircumstantial adjuncts in clear review before my mind, I cannot evenguess what the mystery consists in, nor yet how our brave honest MasterRene, the pattern of a good industrious citizen, can have anything todo with what is bad or deserving of condemnation; but of this I amquite sure, that I shall never dare to put the ornaments on."

  The Marchioness thought that this was carrying scruples too far. Butwhen De Scuderi asked her on her conscience what she should really doin her (Scuderi's) place, De Maintenon replied earnestly anddecisively, "Far sooner throw the ornaments into the Seine than everwear them."

  The scene with Master Rene was described by De Scuderi in charmingverses, which she read to the king on the following evening in DeMaintenon's salon. And of course it may readily be conceived that,conquering her uncomfortable feelings and forebodings of evil, she drewat Master Rene's expense a diverting picture, in bright vivaciouscolours, of the goldsmith's bride of three and seventy who was of suchancient nobility. At any rate the king laughed heartily, and swore thatBoileau Despreux had found his master; hence De Scuderi's poem waspopularly adjudged to be the wittiest that ever was written.

  Several months had passed, when, as chance would have it, De Scuderiwas driving over the Pont Neuf in the Duchess de Montansier's glasscoach. The invention of this elegant class of vehicles was still sorecent that a throng of the curious always gathered round it when oneappeared in the streets. And so there was on the present occasion agaping crowd round De Montansier's coach on the Pont Neuf, so great asalmost to hinder the horses from getting on. All at once De Scuderiheard a continuous fire of abuse and cursing, and perceived a manmaking his way through the thick of the crowd by the help of his fistsand by punching people in the ribs. And when he came nearer she sawthat his piercing eyes were riveted upon her. His face was pale asdeath and distorted by pain; and he kept his eyes riveted upon her allthe time he was energetically working his way onwards with his fistsand elbows, until he reached the door. Pulling it open with impetuousviolence, he threw a strip of paper into De Scuderi's lap, and againdealing out and receiving blows and punches, disappeared as he hadcome. Martiniere, who was accompanying her mistress, uttered a screamof terror when she saw the man appear at the coach door, and fell backupon the cushions in a swoon. De Scuderi vainly pulled the cord andcalled out to the driver; he, as if impelled by the foul Fiend, whippedup his horses, so that they foamed at the mouth and tossed their heads,and kicked and plunged, and finally thundered over the bridge at asharp trot. De Scuderi emptied her smelling-bottle over the insensiblewoman, who at length opened her eyes. Trembling and shaking, she clungconvulsively to her mistress, her face pale with anxiety and terror asshe gasped out, "For the love of the Virgin, what did that terrible manwant? Oh! yes, it was he! it was he!--the very same who brought you thecasket that awful night." Mademoiselle pacified the poor woman,assuring her that not the least mischief had been done, and that themain thing to do just then was to see what the strip of papercontained. She unfolded it and found these words--

  "I am being plunged into the pit of destruction by an evil destinywhich you may avert. I implore you, as the son does the mother whom hecannot leave, and with the warmest affection of a loving child, sendthe necklace and bracelets which you received from me to Master ReneCardillac; any pretext will do, to get some improvement made--or to getsomething altered. Your welfare, your life, depend upon it. If you havenot done so by the day after to-morrow I will force my way into yourdwelling and kill myself before your eyes."

  "Well now, it is at any rate certain," said De Scuderi when she hadread it, "that this mysterious man, even if he does really belong tothe notorious band of thieves and robbers, yet has no evil designsagainst me. If he had succeeded in speaking to me that night, who knowswhether I should not have learnt of some singular event or somemysterious complication of things, respecting which I now try in vainto form even the remotest guess. But let the matter now take what shapeit may, I shall certainly do what this note urgently requests me to do,if for no other reason than to get rid of those ill-starred jewels,which I always fancy are a talisman of the foul Fiend himself. And Iwarrant Cardillac, true to his rooted habit, won't let it pass out ofhis hands again so easily."

  The very next day De Scuderi intended to go and take the jewellery tothe goldsmith's. But somehow it seemed as if all the wits andintellects of entire Paris had conspired together to overwhelmMademoiselle just on this particular morning with their verses andplays and anecdotes. No sooner had La Chapelle[17] finished reading atragedy, and had slyly remarked with some degree of confident assurancethat he should now certainly beat Racine, than the latter poet himselfcame in, and routed him with a pathetic speech of a certain king, untilBoileau appeared to let off the rockets of his wit into this black skyof Tragedy--in order that he might not be talked to death on thesubject of the colonnade[18] of the Louvre, for he had been penned upin it by Dr. Perrault, the architect.

  It was high noon; De Scuderi had to go to the Duchess de Montansier's;and so the visit to Master Rene Cardillac's was put off until the nextday. Mademoiselle, however, was tormented by a most extraordinaryfeeling of uneasiness. The young man's figure was constantly before hereyes; and deep down in her memory there was stirring a dim recollectionthat she had seen his face and features somewhere before. Her sleep,which was of the lightest, was disturbed by troublesome dreams. Shefancied she had acted frivolously and even criminally in having delayedto grasp the hand which the unhappy wretch, who was sinking into theabyss of ruin, was stretching up towards her; nay, she was even hauntedby the thought that she had had it in her power to prevent a fatalevent from taking place or an enormous crime from being committed. So,as soon as the morning was fully come, she had Martiniere finish hertoilet, and drove to the goldsmith, taking the jewel-casket with her.

  The people were pouring into the Rue Nicaise, to the house whereCardillac lived, and were gathering about his door, shouting,screaming, and creating a wild tumult of noise; and they were withdifficulty prevented by the _Marechaussee_, who had drawn a
cordonround the house, from forcing their way in. Angry voices were crying ina wild confused hubbub, "Tear him to pieces! pound him to dust! theaccursed murderer!" At length Desgrais appeared on the scene with astrong body of police, who formed a passage through the heart of thecrowd. The house door flew open and a man stepped out loaded withchains; and he was dragged away amidst the most horrible imprecationsof the furious mob.

  At the moment that De Scuderi, who was half swooning from fright andher apprehensions that something terrible had happened, was witness ofthis scene, a shrill piercing scream of distress rang upon her ears."Go on, go on, right forward," she cried to her coachman, almostdistracted. Scattering the dense mass of people by a quick clever turnof his horses, he pulled up immediately in front of Cardillac's door.There De Scuderi observed Desgrais, and at his feet a young girl, asbeautiful as the day, with dishevelled hair, only half dressed, and hercountenance stamped with desperate anxiety and wild with despair. Shewas clasping his knees and crying in a tone of the most terrible, themost heart-rending anguish, "Oh! he is innocent! he is innocent." Invain were Desgrais' efforts, as well as those of his men, to make herleave hold and to raise her up from the floor. At last a strong brutalfellow laid his coarse rough hands upon the poor girl and dragged heraway from Desgrais by main force, but awkwardly stumbling let her drop,so that she rolled down the stone steps and lay in the street, withoututtering a single sound more; she appeared to be dead.

  Mademoiselle could no longer contain herself. "For God's sake, what hashappened? What's all this about?" she cried as she quickly opened thedoor of her coach and stepped out. The crowd respectfully made way forthe estimable lady. She, on perceiving that two or three compassionatewomen had raised up the girl and set her on the steps, where they wererubbing her forehead with aromatic waters, approached Desgrais andrepeated her question with vehemence. "A horrible thing has happened,"said Desgrais. "Rene Cardillac was found this morning murdered, stabbedto the heart with a dagger. His journeyman Olivier Brusson is themurderer. That was he who was just led away to prison." "And the girl?"exclaimed Mademoiselle---- "Is Madelon, Cardillac's daughter," broke inDesgrais. "Yon abandoned wretch is her lover. And she's screaming andcrying, and protesting that Olivier is innocent, quite innocent. Butthe real truth is she is cognisant of the deed, and I must have heralso taken to the _conciergerie_ (prison)."

  Saying which, Desgrais cast a glance of such spiteful malicious triumphupon the girl that De Scuderi trembled. Madelon was just beginning tobreathe again, but she still lay with her eyes closed incapable ofeither sound or motion; and they did not know what to do, whether totake her into the house or to stay with her longer until she came roundagain. Mademoiselle's eyes filled with tears, and she was greatlyagitated, as she looked upon the innocent angel; Desgrais and hismyrmidons made her shudder. Downstairs came a heavy rumbling noise;they were bringing down Cardillac's corpse. Quickly making up her mind.De Scuderi said loudly, "I will take the girl with me; you may attendto everything else, Desgrais." A muttered wave of applause sweptthrough the crowd. They lifted up the girl, whilst everybody crowdedround and hundreds of arms were proffered to assist them; like onefloating in the air the young girl was carried to the coach and placedwithin it,--blessings being showered from the lips of all upon thenoble lady who had come to snatch innocence from the scaffold.

  The efforts of Seron, the most celebrated physician in Paris, to bringMadelon back to herself were at length crowned with success, for shehad lain for hours in a dead swoon, utterly unconscious. What thephysician began was completed by De Scuderi, who strove to excitethe mild rays of hope in the girl's soul, till at length reliefcame to her in the form of a violent fit of tears and sobbing. Shemanaged to relate all that had happened, although from time to timeher heart-rending grief got the upper hand, and her voice was chokedwith convulsive sobs.

  About midnight she had been awakened by a light tap at her chamberdoor, and heard Olivier's voice imploring her to get up at once, as herfather was dying. Though almost stunned with dismay, she started up andopened the door, and saw Olivier with a light in his hand, pale anddreadfully agitated, and dripping with perspiration. He led the wayinto her father's workshop, with an unsteady gait, and she followedhim. There lay her father with fixed staring eyes, his throat rattlingin the agonies of death. With a loud wail she threw herself upon him,and then first noticed his bloody shirt. Olivier softly drew her awayand set to work to wash a wound in her father's left breast with atraumatic balsam, and to bind it up. During this operation her father'ssenses came back to him; his throat ceased to rattle; and he bent,first upon her and then upon Olivier, a glance full of feeling, tookher hand, and placed it in Olivier's, fervently pressing them together.She and Olivier both fell upon their knees beside her father's bed; heraised himself up with a cry of agony, but at once sank back again, andin a deep sigh breathed his last. Then they both gave way to theirgrief and sorrow, and wept aloud.

  Olivier related how during a walk, on which he had been commanded byhis master to attend him, the latter had been murdered in his presence,and how through the greatest exertions he had carried the heavy manhome, whom he did not believe to have been fatally wounded.

  When morning dawned the people of the house, who had heard thelumbering noises, and the loud weeping and lamenting during the night,came up and found them still kneeling in helpless trouble by herfather's corpse. An alarm was raised; the _Marechaussee_ made their wayinto the house, and dragged off Olivier to prison as the murderer ofhis master. Madelon added the most touching description of her belovedOlivier's goodness, and steady industry, and faithfulness. He hadhonoured his master highly, as though he had been his own father; andthe latter had fully reciprocated this affection, and had chosenBrusson, in spite of his poverty, to be his son-in-law, since his skillwas equal to his faithfulness and the nobleness of his character. Allthis the girl related with deep, true, heart-felt emotion; and sheconcluded by saying that if Olivier had thrust his dagger into herfather's breast in her own presence she should take it for someillusion caused by Satan, rather than believe that Olivier could becapable of such a horrible wicked crime.

  De Scuderi, most deeply moved by Madelon's unutterable sufferings, andquite ready to regard poor Olivier as innocent, instituted inquiries,and she found that all Madelon had said about the intimate terms onwhich master and journeyman had lived was fully confirmed. The peoplein the same house, as well as the neighbours, unanimously agreed incommending Olivier as a pattern of goodness, morality, faithfulness,and industry; nobody knew anything evil about him, and yet when mentionwas made of his heinous deed, they all shrugged their shoulders andthought there was something passing comprehension in it.

  Olivier, on being arraigned before the _Chambre Ardente_ denied thedeed imputed to him, as Mademoiselle learned, with the most steadfastfirmness and with honest sincerity, maintaining that his master hadbeen attacked in the street in his presence and stabbed, that then, asthere were still signs of life in him, he had himself carried him home,where Cardillac had soon afterwards expired. And all this tooharmonised with Madelon's account.

  Again and again and again De Scuderi had the minutest details of theterrible event repeated to her. She inquired minutely whether there hadever been a quarrel between master and journeyman, whether Olivier wasperhaps not subject occasionally to those hasty fits of passion whichoften attack even the most good-natured of men like a blind madness,impelling the commission of deeds which appear to be done quiteindependent of voluntary action. But in proportion as Madelon spokewith increasing heartfelt warmth of the quiet domestic happiness inwhich the three had lived, united by the closest ties of affection,every shadow of suspicion against poor Olivier, now being tried for hislife, vanished away. Scrupulously weighing every point and startingwith the assumption that Olivier, in spite of all the things whichspoke so loudly for his innocence, was nevertheless Cardillac'smurderer, De Scuderi did not find any motive within the bounds ofpossibility for the hideous deed; for from every point of view it wouldnec
essarily destroy his happiness. He is poor but clever. He hassucceeded in gaining the good-will of the most renowned master of histrade; he loves his master's daughter; his master looks upon his lovewith a favourable eye; happiness and prosperity seem likely to be hislot through life. But now suppose that, provoked in some way that Godalone may know, Olivier had been so overmastered by anger as to make amurderous attempt upon his benefactor, his father, what diabolicalhypocrisy he must have practised to have behaved after the deed in theway in which he really did behave. Firmly convinced of Olivier'sinnocence, Mademoiselle made up her mind to save the unhappy young manat no matter what cost.

  Before appealing, however, to the king's mercy, it seemed to her thatthe most advisable step to take would be to call upon La Regnie, anddirect his attention to all the circumstances that could not fail tospeak for Olivier's innocence, and so perhaps awaken in the President'smind a feeling of interest favourable to the accused, which might thencommunicate itself to the judges with beneficial results.

  La Regnie received De Scuderi with all the great respect to which thevenerable lady, highly honoured as she was by the king himself, mightjustly lay claim. He listened quietly to all that she had to adducewith respect to the terrible crime, and Olivier's relations to thevictim and his daughter, and his character. Nevertheless the only proofhe gave that her words were not falling upon totally deaf ears was aslight and well-nigh mocking smile; and in the same way he heard herprotestations and admonitions, which were frequently interrupted bytears, that the judge was not the enemy of the accused, but must alsoduly give heed to anything that spoke in his favour. When at lengthMademoiselle paused, quite exhausted, and dried the tears from hereyes. La Regnie began, "It does honour to the excellence of your heart.Mademoiselle, that, being moved by the tears of a young lovesick girl,you believe everything she tells you, and none the less so that you areincapable of conceiving the thought of such an atrocious deed; but notso is it with the judge, who is wont to rend asunder the mask of brazenhypocrisy. Of course I need not tell you that it is not part of myoffice to unfold to every one who asks me the various stages of acriminal trial. Mademoiselle, I do my duty and trouble myself littleabout the judgment of the world. All miscreants shall tremble beforethe _Chambre Ardente_, which knows no other punishment except thescaffold and the stake. But since I do not wish you, respected lady, toconceive of me as a monster of hard-heartedness and cruelty, suffer mein a few words to put clearly before you the guilt of this youngreprobate, who, thank Heaven, has been overtaken by the avenging arm ofjustice. Your sagacious mind will then bid you look with scorn uponyour own good kindness, which does you so much honour, but which wouldnever under any circumstances be fitting in me.

  "Well then! Rene Cardillac is found in the morning stabbed to the heartwith a dagger. The only persons with him are his journeyman OlivierBrusson and his own daughter. In Olivier's room, amongst other things,is found a dagger covered with blood, still fresh, which dagger fitsexactly into the wound. Olivier says, 'Cardillac was cut down at nightbefore my eyes.' 'Somebody attempted to rob him?' 'I don't know.' 'Yousay you went with him, how then were you not able to keep off themurderer, or hold him fast, or cry out for help?' 'My master walkedfifteen, nay, fully twenty paces in front of me, and I followed him.''But why, in the name of wonder, at such a distance?' 'My master wouldhave it so.' 'But tell us then what Master Cardillac was doing out inthe streets at so late an hour?' 'That I cannot say.' 'But you havenever before known him to leave the house after nine o'clock in theevening, have you?' Here Olivier falters; he is confused; he sighs; hebursts into tears; he protests by all that is holy that Cardillacreally went out on the night in question, and then met with his death.But now your particular attention, please, Mademoiselle. It has beenproved to absolute certainty that Cardillac never left the house thatnight, and so, of course, Olivier's assertion that he went out with himis an impudent lie. The house door is provided with a ponderous lock,which on locking and unlocking makes a loud grating echoing noise;moreover, the wings of the door squeak and creak horribly on theirhinges, so that, as we have proved by repeated experiments, the noiseis heard all the way up to the garrets. Now in the bottom story, and soof course close to the street door, lives old Master Claude Patru andhis housekeeper, a person of nearly eighty years of age, but stilllively and nimble. Now these two people heard Cardillac come downstairspunctually at nine o'clock that evening, according to his usualpractice, and lock and bolt the door with considerable noise, and thengo up again, where they further heard him read the evening prayersaloud, and then, to judge by the banging of doors, go to his ownsleeping-chamber. Master Claude, like many old people, suffers fromsleeplessness; and that night too he could not close an eye. And so,somewhere about half-past nine it seems, his old housekeeper went intothe kitchen (to get into which she had to cross the passage) for alight, and then came and sat down at the table beside Master Claudewith an old Chronicle, out of which she read; whilst the old man,following the train of his thoughts, first sat down in his easy-chair,and then stood up again, and paced softly and slowly up and down theroom in order to bring on weariness and sleepiness. All remained quietand still until after midnight. Then they heard quick steps above themand a heavy fall like some big weight being thrown on the floor, andthen soon after a muffled groaning. A peculiar feeling of uneasinessand dreadful suspense took possession of them both. It was horror atthe bloody deed which had just been committed, which passed out besidethem. The bright morning came and revealed to the light what had beenbegun in the hours of darkness."

  "But," interrupted De Scuderi, "but by all the saints, tell me whatmotive for this diabolical deed you can find in any of thecircumstances which I just now repeated to you at such length?" "Hm!"rejoined La Regnie, "Cardillac was not poor--he had some valuablestones in his possession." "But would not his daughter inheriteverything?" continued De Scuderi. "You are forgetting that Olivier wasto be Cardillac's son-in-law." "But perhaps he had to share or only dothe murderous deed for others," said La Regnie. "Share? do a murderousdeed for others?" asked De Scuderi, utterly astounded. "I must tellyou, Mademoiselle," continued the President, "that Olivier's bloodwould long ago have been shed in the Place Greve, had not his crimebeen bound up with that deeply enshrouded mystery which has hithertoexercised such a threatening sway over all Paris. It is evident thatOlivier belongs to that accursed band of miscreants who, laughing toscorn all the watchfulness, and efforts, and strict investigations ofthe courts, have been able to carry out their plans so safely andunpunished. Through him all shall--all must be cleared up. Cardillac'swound is precisely similar to those borne by all the persons who havebeen found murdered and robbed in the streets and houses. But the mostdecisive fact is that since the time Olivier Brusson has been underarrest all these murders and robberies have ceased The streets are nowas safe by night as they are by day. These things are proof enough thatOlivier probably was at the head of this band of assassins. As yet hewill not confess it; but there are means of making him speak againsthis will." "And Madelon," exclaimed De Scuderi, "and Madelon, thefaithful, innocent dove!" "Oh!" said La Regnie, with a venomous smile,"Oh! but who will answer to me for it that she also is not anaccomplice in the plot? What does she care about her father's death?Her tears are only shed for this murderous rascal." "What do you say?"screamed De Scuderi; "it cannot possibly be. Her father--this girl!""Oh!" went on La Regnie, "Oh, but pray recollect De Brinvillier. Youwill be so good as to pardon me if I perhaps soon find myself compelledto take your favourite from your protection, and have her cast into theConciergerie."

  This terrible suspicion made Mademoiselle shudder. It seemed to her asif no faithfulness, no virtue, could stand fast before this fearfulman; he seemed to espy murder and blood-guiltiness in the deepest andmost secret thoughts. She rose to go. "Be human!" was all that shecould stammer out in her distress, and she had difficulty in breathing.Just on the point of going down the stairs, to the top of which thePresident had accompanied her with ceremonious courtesy, she wassuddenly str
uck by a strange thought, at which she herself wassurprised. "And could I be allowed to see this unhappy OlivierBrusson?" she asked, turning round quickly to the President. He,however, looked at her somewhat suspiciously, but his face was sooncontracted into the forbidding smile so characteristic of him. "Ofcourse, honoured lady," said he, "relying upon your feelings and thelittle voice within you more than upon what has taken place before ourvery eyes, you will yourself prove Olivier's guilt or innocence, Iperceive. If you are not afraid to see the dark abodes of crime, and ifyou think there will be nothing too revolting in looking upon picturesof depravity in all its stages, then the doors of the Conciergerieshall be opened to you in two hours from now. You shall have thisOlivier, whose fate excites your interest so much, presented to you."

  To tell the truth, De Scuderi could by no means convince herself of theyoung man's guilt. Although everything spoke against him, and no judgein the world could have acted differently from what La Regnie did inface of such conclusive circumstantial evidence, yet all these basesuspicions were completely outweighed by the picture of domestichappiness which Madelon had painted for her in such warm lifelikecolours; and hence she would rather adopt the idea of someunaccountable mystery than believe in the truth of that at which herinmost heart revolted.

  She was thinking that she would get Olivier to repeat once more all theevents of that ill-omened night and worm her way as much as possibleinto any secret there might be which remained sealed to the judges,since for their purposes it did not seem worth while to give themselvesany further trouble about the matter.

  On arriving at the Conciergerie, De Scuderi was led into a large lightapartment. She had not long to wait before she heard the rattle ofchains. Olivier Brusson was brought in. But the moment he appeared inthe doorway De Scuderi sank on the floor fainting. When she recovered,Olivier had disappeared. She demanded impetuously that she should betaken to her carriage; she would go--go at once, that very moment, fromthe apartments of wickedness and infamy. For oh! at the very firstglance she had recognised in Olivier Brusson the young man who hadthrown the note into the carriage on the Pont Neuf, and who had broughther the casket and the jewels. Now all doubts were at an end; LaRegnie's horrible suspicion was fully confirmed. Olivier Brussonbelonged to the atrocious band of assassins; undoubtedly he murderedhis master. And Madelon? Never before had Mademoiselle been so bitterlydeceived by the deepest promptings of her heart; and now, shaken to thevery depths of her soul by the discovery of a power of evil on earth inthe existence of which she had not hitherto believed, she began todespair of all truth. She allowed the hideous suspicion to enter hermind that Madelon was involved in the complot, and might have had ahand in the infamous deed of blood. As is frequently the case with thehuman mind, that, once it has laid hold upon an idea, it diligentlyseeks for colours, until it finds them, with which to deck out thepicture in tints ever more vivid and ever more glaring; so also DeScuderi, on reflecting again upon all the circumstances of the deed, aswell as upon the minutest features in Madelon's behaviour, found manythings to strengthen her suspicion. And many points which hitherto shehad regarded as a proof of innocence and purity now presentedthemselves as undeniable tokens of abominable wickedness and studiedhypocrisy. Madelon's heartrending expressions of trouble, and herfloods of piteous tears, might very well have been forced from her, notso much from fear of seeing her lover perish on the scaffold, as offalling herself by the hand of the executioner. To get rid at once ofthe serpent she was nourishing in her bosom, this was the determinationwith which Mademoiselle got out of her carriage.

  When she entered her room, Madelon threw herself at her feet. With herlovely eyes--none of God's angels had truer--directed heavenwards, andwith her hands folded upon her heaving bosom, she wept and wailed,craving help and consolation. Controlling herself by a painful effort,De Scuderi, whilst endeavouring to impart as much earnestness andcalmness as she possibly could to the tone in which she spoke, said,"Go--go--comfort yourself with the thought that righteous punishmentwill overtake yon murderer for his villainous deeds. May the HolyVirgin forbid that you yourself come to labour under the heavy burdenof blood-guiltiness." "Oh! all hope is now lost!" cried Madelon, with apiercing shriek, as she reeled to the floor senseless. Leaving LaMartiniere to attend to the girl, Mademoiselle withdrew into anotherroom.

  De Scuderi's heart was torn and bleeding; she felt herself at variancewith all mankind, and no longer wished to live in a world so full ofdiabolical deceit! She reproached Destiny which in bitter mockery hadso many years suffered her to go on strengthening her belief in virtue,and truth, only to destroy now in her old age the beautiful imageswhich had been her guiding-stars through life.

  She heard Martiniere lead away Madelon, who was sighing softly andlamenting. "Alas! and she--she too--these cruel men have infatuatedher. Poor, miserable me! Poor, unhappy Olivier!" The tones of her voicecut De Scuderi to the heart; again there stirred in the depths of hersoul a dim presentiment that there was some mystery connected with thecase, and also the belief in Olivier's innocence returned. Her minddistracted by the most contradictory feelings, she cried, "What spiritof darkness is it which has entangled me in this terrible affair? I amcertain it will be the death of me." At this juncture Baptiste came in,pale and terrified, with the announcement that Desgrais was at thedoor. Ever since the trial of the infamous La Voisin the appearance ofDesgrais in any house was the sure precursor of some criminal charge;hence came Baptiste's terror, and therefore it was that Mademoiselleasked him with a gracious smile, "What's the matter with you, Baptiste?The name Scuderi has been found on La Voisin's list, has it not, eh?""For God's sake," replied Baptiste, trembling in every limb, "how canyou speak of such a thing? But Desgrais, that terrible man Desgrais,behaves so mysteriously, and is so urgent; he seems as if he couldn'twait a moment before seeing you." "Well, then, Baptiste," said DeScuderi, "then bring him up at once--the man who is so terrible to you;in me, at least, he will excite no anxiety."

  "The President La Regnie has sent me to you, Mademoiselle," saidDesgrais on stepping into the room, "with a request which he wouldhardly dare hope you could grant, did he not know your virtue and yourcourage. But the last means of bringing to light a vile deed of bloodlie in your hands; and you have already of your own accord taken anactive part in the notorious trial which the _Chambre Ardente_, and infact all of us, are watching with breathless interest. Olivier Brussonhas been half a madman since he saw you. He was beginning to show signsof compliance and a readiness to make a confession, but he now swearsagain, by all the powers of Heaven, that he is perfectly innocent ofthe murder of Cardillac; and yet he says he is ready to die the deathwhich he has deserved. You will please observe, Mademoiselle, that thelast clause evidently has reference to other crimes which weigh uponhis conscience. But vain are all our efforts to get him to utter asingle word more; even the threat of torture has been of no avail. Hebegs and prays, and beseeches us to procure him an interview with you;for to _you_, to _you_ only, will he confess all. Pray deign,Mademoiselle, to hear Brusson's confession." "What!" exclaimed DeScuderi indignantly, "am I to be made an instrument of by a criminalcourt, am I to abuse this unhappy man's confidence to bring him to thescaffold? No, Desgrais. However vile a murderer Brusson may be, I wouldnever, never deceive him in that villainous way. I don't want to knowanything about his secrets; in any case they would be locked up withinmy own bosom as if they were a holy confession made to a priest""Perhaps," rejoined Desgrais with a subtle smile, "perhaps,Mademoiselle, you would alter your mind after you had heard Brusson.Did you not yourself exhort the President to be human? And he is beingso, in that he gives way to Brusson's foolish request, and thus resortsto the last means before putting him to the rack, for which he was wellripe some time ago." De Scuderi shuddered involuntarily. "And then,honoured lady," continued Desgrais, "it will not be demanded of youthat you again enter those dark gloomy rooms which filled you with suchhorror and aversion. Olivier shall be brought to you here in your ownhouse as a free man, but at night, w
hen all excitement can be avoided.Then, without being even listened to, though of course he would bewatched, he may without constraint make a clean confession to you. Thatyou personally will have nothing to fear from the wretch--for that Iwill answer to you with my life. He mentions your name with theintensest veneration. He reiterates again and again that it is nothingbut his dark destiny, which prevented him seeing you before, that hasbrought his life into jeopardy in this way. Moreover, you will be atliberty to divulge what you think well of the things which Brussonconfesses to you. And what more could we indeed compel you to do?"

  De Scuderi bent her eyes upon the floor in reflection. She felt shemust obey the Higher Power which was thus demanding of her that sheshould effect the disclosure of some terrible secret, and she felt,too, as though she could not draw back out of the tangled skein intowhich she had run without any conscious effort of will. Suddenly makingup her mind, she replied with dignity, "God will give me firmness andself-command, Bring Brusson here; I will speak with him."

  Just as on the previous occasion when Brusson brought the casket, therecame a knock at De Scuderi's house door at midnight. Baptiste,forewarned of this nocturnal visit, at once opened the door. De Scuderifelt an icy shiver run through her as she gathered from the lightfootsteps and hollow murmuring voices that the guards who had broughtBrusson were taking up their stations about the passages of the house.

  At length the room door was softly opened. Desgrais came in, followedby Olivier Brusson, freed from his fetters, and dressed in his own neatclothing. The officer bowed respectfully and said, "Here is Brusson,honoured lady," and then left the room. Brusson fell upon his kneesbefore Mademoiselle, and raised his folded hands in entreaty, whilstcopious tears ran down his cheeks.

  De Scuderi turned pale and looked down upon him without being able toutter a word. Though his features were now gaunt and hollow fromtrouble and anguish and pain, yet an expression of the trueststaunchest honesty shone upon his countenance. The longer Mademoiselleallowed her eyes to rest upon his face, the more forcibly was shereminded of some loved person, whom she could not in any way clearlycall to mind. All her feelings of shivery uncomfortableness left her;she forgot that it was Cardillac's murderer who was kneeling beforeher; she spoke in the calm pleasing tone of goodwill that wascharacteristic of her, "Well, Brusson, what have you to tell me?" He,still kneeling, heaved a sigh of unspeakable sadness, that came fromthe bottom of his heart, "Oh! honoured, highly esteemed lady, can youhave lost all traces of recollection of me?" Mademoiselle scanned hisfeatures more narrowly, and replied that she had certainly discoveredin his face a resemblance to some one she had once loved, and that itwas entirely owing to this resemblance that she had overcome herdetestation of the murderer, and was listening to him calmly.

  Brusson was deeply hurt at these words; he rose hastily to his feet andtook a step, backwards, fixing his eyes gloomily on the floor. "Thenyou have completely forgotten Anne Guiot?" he said moodily; "it is herson Olivier,--the boy whom you often tossed on your lap--who now standsbefore you." "Oh help me, good Heaven!" exclaimed Mademoiselle,covering her face with both hands and sinking back upon the cushions.And reason enough she had to be thus terribly affected. Anne Guiot, thedaughter of an impoverished burgher, had lived in De Scuderi's housefrom a little girl, and had been brought up by Mademoiselle with allthe care and faithfulness which a mother expends upon her own child.Now when she was grown up there came a modest good-looking young man,Claude Brusson by name, and he wooed the girl. And since he was athoroughly clever watchmaker, who would be sure to find a very goodliving in Paris, and since Anne had also grown to be truly fond of him,De Scuderi had no scruples about giving her consent to her adopteddaughter's marriage. The young people, having set up housekeeping, leda quiet life of domestic happiness; and the ties of affection were knitstill closer by the birth of a marvellously pretty boy, the perfectimage of his lovely mother.

  De Scuderi made a complete idol of little Olivier, carrying him offfrom his mother for hours and days together to caress him and to fondlehim. Hence the boy grew quite accustomed to her, and would just aswillingly be with her as with his mother. Three years passed away, whenthe trade-envy of Brusson's fellow-artificers made them concerttogether against him, so that his business decreased day by day, untilat last he could hardly earn enough for a bare subsistence. Along withthis he felt an ardent longing to see once more his beautiful nativecity of Geneva; accordingly the small family moved thither, in spite ofDe Scuderi's opposition and her promises of every possible means ofsupport Anne wrote two or three times to her foster-mother, and thennothing more was heard from her; so that Mademoiselle had to takerefuge in the conclusion that the happy life they were leading inBrusson's native town prevented their memories dwelling upon the daysthat were past and gone. It was now just twenty-three years sinceBrusson had left Paris along with his wife and child and had gone toGeneva.

  "Oh! horrible!" exclaimed De Scuderi when she had again recoveredherself to some extent. "Oh! horrible! are you Olivier? my Anne's son?And now----" "Indeed, honoured lady," replied Olivier calmly andcomposedly, "indeed you never could, I suppose, have any the least ideathat the boy whom you fondled with all a mother's tenderness, intowhose mouth you never tired of putting sweets and candies as you tossedhim on your lap, whom you called by the most caressing names, would,when grown up to be a young man, one day stand before you accused of anatrocious crime. I am not free from reproach; the _Chambre Ardente_ mayjustly bring a charge against me; but by my hopes of happiness afterdeath, even though it be by the executioner's hand, I am innocent ofthis bloody deed; the unhappy Cardillac did not perish through me, northrough any guilty connivance on my part." So saying, Olivier began toshake and tremble. Mademoiselle silently pointed to a low chair whichstood beside him, and he slowly sank down upon it.

  "I have had plenty of time to prepare myself for my interview withyou," he began, "which I regard as the last favour to be granted me byHeaven in token of my reconciliation with it, and I have also had timeenough to gain what calmness and composure are needful in order torelate to you the history of my fearful and unparalleled misfortunes. Ientreat your pity, that you will listen calmly to me, however much youmay be surprised--nay, even struck with horror, by the disclosure of asecret which I am sure you have never for a moment suspected. Oh! thatmy poor father had never left Paris! As far back as my recollections ofGeneva go I remember how I felt the tears of my unhappy parents fallingupon my cheeks; and how their complaints of misery, which I did notunderstand, provoked me also to tears. Later I experienced to the fulland with keen consciousness in what a state of crushing want and ofdeep distress my parents lived. My father found all his hopes deceived.He died bowed to the earth with pain, and broken with trouble,immediately after he had succeeded in placing me as apprentice to agoldsmith. My mother talked much about you; she said she would pour outall her troubles to you; but then she fell a victim to that despondencywhich is born of misery. That, and also a feeling of false shame, whichoften preys upon a deeply wounded spirit, prevented her from taking anydecisive step. Within a few months after my father's death my motherfollowed him to the grave." "Poor Anne! poor Anne!" exclaimedMademoiselle, quite overcome by sorrow. "All praise and thanks to theEternal Power of Heaven that she is gone to the better land; she willnot see her darling son, branded with shame, fall by the hand of theexecutioner," cried Olivier aloud, casting his eyes upwards with a wildunnatural look of anguish.

  The police grew uneasy outside; footsteps passed to an fro. "Ho! ho!"said Olivier, smiling bitterly, "Desgrais is waking up his myrmidons,as though I could make my escape _here_. But to continue--I led a hardlife with my master, albeit I soon got to be the best workman, and atlast even surpassed my master himself. One day a stranger happened tocome into our shop to buy some jewellery. And when he saw a beautifulnecklace which I had made he clapped me on the shoulder in a friendlyway and said, eyeing the ornament, 'Ha! i' faith, my young friend,that's an excellent piece of work. To tell you the truth, I don't kn
owwho there is who could beat you, unless it were Rene Cardillac, who,you know, is the first goldsmith in the world. You ought to go to him;he would gladly take you into his workshop; for nobody but you couldhelp him in his artistic labours; and on the other hand he is the onlyman from whom you could learn anything.' The stranger's words sank intomy heart and took deep root there. I hadn't another moment's ease inGeneva; I felt a violent impulse to be gone. At last I contrived to getfree from my master. I came to Paris. Rene Cardillac received me coldlyand churlishly. I persevered in my purpose; he must give me some work,however insignificant it might be. I got a small ring to finish. On mytaking the work to him, he fixed his keen glittering eyes upon me as ifhe would read the very depths of my soul. Then he said, 'You are a goodclever journeyman; you may come to me and help me in my shop. I willpay you well; you shall be satisfied with me.' Cardillac kept his word.I had been several weeks with him before I saw Madelon; she was at thattime, if I mistake not, in the country, staying, with a female relativeof Cardillac's; but at length she came. O Heaven! O God! what did Ifeel when I saw the sweet angel? Has any man ever loved as I do? Andnow--O Madelon!"

  Olivier was so distressed he could not go on. Holding both hands beforehis face, he sobbed violently, But at length, fighting down with aneffort the sharp pain that shook him, he went on with his story.

  "Madelon looked upon me with friendly eyes. Her visits into theworkshop grew more and more frequent. I was enraptured to perceive thatshe loved me. Notwithstanding the strict watch her father kept upon usmany a stolen pressure of the hand served as a token of the mutualunderstanding arrived at between us; Cardillac did not appear to noticeanything. I intended first to win his favour, and, if I could gain mymastership, then to woo for Madelon. One day, as I was about to beginwork, Cardillac came to me, his face louring darkly with anger andscornful contempt 'I don't want your services any longer,' he began,'so out you go from my house this very hour; and never show yourself inmy sight again. Why I can't do with you here any longer, I have no needto tell you. For you, you poor devil, the sweet fruit at which you arestretching out your hand hangs too high.' I attempted to speak, but helaid hold upon me with a powerful grasp and threw me out of doors, sothat I fell to the floor and severely wounded my head and arm. I leftthe house hotly indignant and furious with the stinging pain; at last Ifound a good-natured acquaintance in the remotest corner of theFaubourg St. Martin, who received me into his garret. But I had neitherease nor rest. Every night I used to lurk about Cardillac's housedeluding myself with the fancy that Madelon would hear my sighing andlamenting, and that she would perhaps find a way to speak to me out ofthe window unheard. All sorts of confused plans were revolving in mybrain, which I hoped to persuade her to carry out.

  "Now joining Cardillac's house in the Rue Nicaise there is a high wall,with niches and old stone figures in them, now half crumbled away. Onenight I was standing close beside one of these stone images and lookingup at those windows of the house which looked out upon the courtenclosed by the wall. All at once I observed a light in Cardillac'sworkshop. It was midnight; Cardillac never used to be awake at thathour; he was always in the habit of going to rest on the stroke ofnine. My heart beat in uncertain trepidation; I began to thinksomething might have happened which would perhaps pave the way for meto go back into the house once more. But soon the light vanished again.I squeezed myself into the niche close to the stone figure; but Istarted back in dismay on feeling a pressure against me, as if theimage had become instinct with life. By the dusky glimmer of the nightI perceived that the stone was slowly revolving, and a dark formslipped out from behind it and went away down the street with light,soft footsteps. I rushed towards the stone figure; it stood as before,close to the wall. Almost without thinking, rather as if impelled bysome inward prompter, I stealthily followed the figure. Just beside animage of the Virgin he turned round; the light of the street lampstanding exactly in front of the image fell full upon his face. It wasCardillac.

  "An unaccountable feeling of apprehension--an unearthly dread fell uponme. Like one subject to the power of magic, I had to go on--on--in thetrack of the spectre-like somnambulist. For that was what I took mymaster to be, notwithstanding that it was not the time of full moon,when this visitation is wont to attack the sleeper. Finally Cardillacdisappeared into the deep shade on the side of the street. By a sort oflow involuntary cough, which, however, I knew well, I gathered that hewas standing in the entry to a house. 'What is the meaning of that?What is he going to do?' I asked myself, utterly astounded, pressingclose against a house-wall. It was not long before a man came alongwith fluttering plumes and jingling spur, singing and gaily humming anair. Like a tiger leaping upon his prey, Cardillac burst out of hislurking-place and threw himself upon the man, who that very sameinstant fell to the ground, gasping in the agonies of death. I rushedup with a cry of horror; Cardillac was stooping over the man, who layon the floor. 'Master Cardillac, what are you doing?' I shouted.'Cursed fool!' growled Cardillac, running past me with lightning-likespeed and disappearing from sight.

  "Quite upset and hardly able to take a step, I approached the man whohad been stabbed. I knelt down beside him. 'Perhaps,' thought I, 'hestill may be saved;' but there was not the least sign of life. In myfearful agitation I had hardly noticed that the _Marechausee_ hadsurrounded me. 'What? already another assassinated by these demons!Hi! hi! Young man, what are you about here?--Are you one of theband?--Away with him!' Thus they cried one after another, and theylaid hold of me. I was scarcely able to stammer out that I should neverbe capable of such an abominable deed, and that they might thereforelet me go my way in peace. Then one of them turned his lamp upon myface and said laughing, 'Why, it's Olivier Brusson, the journeymangoldsmith, who works for our worthy honest Master Rene Cardillac. Ay, Ishould think so!--_he_ murder people in the street--he looks like itindeed! It's just like murderous assassins to stoop lamenting overtheir victim's corpse till somebody comes and takes them into custody.Well, how was it, youngster? Speak out boldly?' 'A man sprang outimmediately in front of me,' I said, 'and threw himself upon this manand stabbed him, and then ran away as quick as lightning when I shoutedout. I only wanted to see if the stabbed man might still be saved.''No, my son,' cried one of those who had taken up the corpse; 'he'sdead enough; the dagger has gone right through the heart as usual.''The Devil!' said another; 'we have come too late again, as we didyesterday.' Thereupon they went their way, taking the corpse with them.

  "What my feelings were I cannot attempt to describe. I felt myself tomake sure whether I were not being mocked by some hideous dream; Ifancied I must soon wake up and wonder at the preposterous delusion.Cardillac, the father of my Madelon, an atrocious murderer! My strengthfailed me; I sank down upon the stone steps leading up to a house. Themorning light began to glimmer and was stronger and stronger; anofficer's hat decorated with feathers lay before me on the pavement. Isaw again vividly Cardillac's bloody deed, which had been perpetratedon the spot where I sat. I ran off horrified.

  "I was sitting in my garret, my thoughts in a perfect whirl, nay, I wasalmost bereft of my senses, when the door opened, and Rene Cardillaccame in. 'For God's sake, what do you want?' I exclaimed on seeing him.Without heeding my words, he approached close to me, smiling withcalmness and an air of affability which only increased my inwardabhorrence. Pulling up a rickety old stool and taking his seat upon itclose beside me, for I was unable to rise from the heap of straw uponwhich I had thrown myself, he began, 'Well, Olivier, how are yougetting on, my poor fellow? I did indeed do an abominably rash thingwhen I turned you out of the house; I miss you at every step and turn.I have got a piece of work on hand just now which I cannot finishwithout your help. How would it be if you came back to work in my shop?Have you nothing to say? Yes, I know I have insulted you. I will notattempt to conceal it from you that I was angry on account of your lovemaking to my Madelon. But since then I have ripely reflected upon thematter, and decided that, considering your skill and industry andfaithful honesty, I could not
wish for any better son-in-law than you.So come along with me, and see if you can win Madelon to be yourbride.'

  "Cardillac's words cut me to the very heart; I trembled with dread athis wickedness; I could not utter a word. 'Do you hesitate?' hecontinued in a sharp tone, piercing me through and through with hisglittering eyes; 'do you hesitate? Perhaps you can't come along with mejust to-day--perhaps you have some other business on hand! Perhaps youmean forsooth to pay a visit to Desgrais or get yourself admitted to aninterview with D'Argenson or La Regnie. But you'd better take care,boy, that the claws which you entice out of their sheaths to otherpeople's destruction don't seize upon you yourself and tear you topieces!' Then my swelling indignation suddenly found vent 'Let thosewho are conscious of having committed atrocious crimes,' I cried,--'letthem start at the names you just named. As for me, I have no reason todo so--I have nothing to do with them.' 'Properly speaking,' went onCardillac, 'properly speaking, Olivier, it is an honour to you to workwith me--with me, the most renowned master of the age, and highlyesteemed everywhere for his faithfulness and honesty, so that allwicked calumnies would recoil upon the head of the backbiter. And asfar as concerns Madelon, I must now confess that it is she alone towhom you owe this compliance on my part. She loves you with anintensity which I should not have credited the delicate child with.Directly you had gone she threw herself at my feet, clasped my knees,and confessed amid endless tears that she could not live without you.I thought she only fancied so, as so often happens with young andlove-sick girls; they think they shall die at once the first time amilky-faced boy looks kindly upon them. But my Madelon did reallybecome ill and begin to pine away; and when I tried to talk her out ofher foolish silly notions, she only uttered your name scores of times.What on earth could I do if I didn't want her to die away in despair?Last evening I told her I would give my consent to her dearest wishes,and would come and fetch you to-day. And during the night she hasblossomed up like a rose, and is now waiting for you with all thelonging impatience of love.'

  "May God in heaven forgive me! I don't know myself how it came about,but I suddenly found myself in Cardillac's house; and Madelon criedaloud with joy, 'Olivier! my Olivier! my darling! my husband!' as sherushed towards me and threw both her arms round my neck, pressing meclose to her bosom, till in a perfect delirium of passionate delight Iswore by the Virgin and all the saints that I would never, never leaveher."

  Olivier was so deeply agitated by the recollection of this fatefulmoment, that he was obliged to pause. De Scuderi, struck with horror atthis foul iniquity in a man whom she had always looked upon as a modelof virtue and honest integrity, cried, "Oh! it is horrible! So ReneCardillac belongs to the murderous band which has so long made our goodcity a mere bandits' haunt?" "What do you say, Mademoiselle, to the_band_?" said Olivier. "There has never been such a band. It wasCardillac _alone_ who, active in wickedness, sought for his victims andfound them throughout the entire city. And it was because he actedalone that he was enabled to carry on his operations with so muchsecurity, and from the same cause arose the insuperable difficulty ofgetting a clue to the murderer. But let me go on with my story; thesequel will explain to you the secrets of the most atrocious but at thesame time of the most unfortunate of men.

  "The situation in which I now found myself fixed at my master's may beeasily imagined. The step was taken; I could not go back. At times Ifelt as though I were Cardillac's accomplice in crime; the only thingthat made me forget the inner anguish that tortured me was Madelon'slove, and it was only in her presence that I succeeded in totallysuppressing all external signs of the nameless trouble and anxiety Ihad in my heart. When I was working with the old man in the shop, Icould never look him in the face; and I was hardly able to speak aword, owing to the awful dread with which I trembled whenever near thevillain, who fulfilled all the duties of a faithful and tender father,and of a good citizen, whilst the night veiled his monstrous iniquity.Madelon, dutiful, pure, confiding as an angel, clung to him withidolatrous affection. The thought often struck like a dagger to myheart that, if justice should one day overtake the reprobate and unmaskhim, she, deceived by the diabolical arts of the foul Fiend, wouldassuredly die in the wildest agonies of despair. This alone would keepmy lips locked, even though it brought upon me a criminal's death.Notwithstanding that I picked up a good deal of information from thetalk of the _Marechaussee_ yet the motive for Cardillac's atrocities,as well as his manner of accomplishing them, still remained riddles tome; but I had not long to wait for the solution.

  "One day Cardillac was very grave and preoccupied over his work,instead of being in the merriest of humours, jesting and laughing as heusually did, and so provoking my abhorrence of him. All of a sudden hethrew aside the ornament he was working at, so that the pearls andother stones rolled across the floor, and starting to his feet heexclaimed, 'Olivier, things can't go on in this way between us; thefooting we are now on is getting unbearable. Chance has played intoyour hands the knowledge of a secret which has baffled the mostinventive cunning of Desgrais and all his myrmidons. You have seen meat my midnight work, to which I am goaded by my evil destiny; noresistance is ever of any avail. And your evil destiny it was which ledyou to follow me, which wrapped you in an impenetrable veil and gaveyou the lightness of foot which, enabled you to walk as noiselessly asthe smallest insect, so that I, who in the blackest night see asplainly as a tiger and hear the slightest noise, the humming of midges,far away along the streets, did not perceive you near me. Your evilstar has brought you to me, my associate. As you are now circumstancedthere can be no thought of treachery on your part, and so you may nowknow all.' 'Never, never will I be your associate, you hypocriticalreprobate,' I endeavoured to cry out, but I felt a choking sensation inmy throat, caused by the dread which came upon me as Cardillac spoke.Instead of speaking words, I only gasped out certain unintelligiblesounds. Cardillac again sat down on his bench, drying the perspirationfrom his brow. He appeared to be fearfully agitated by hisrecollections of the past and to have difficulty in preserving hiscomposure. But at length he began.

  "'Learned men say a good deal about the extraordinary impressions ofwhich women are capable when _enceinte_, and of the singular influencewhich such a vivid involuntary external impression has upon the unbornchild. I was told a surprising story about my mother. About eightmonths before I was born, my mother accompanied certain other women tosee a splendid court spectacle in the Trianon.[19] There her eyes fellupon a cavalier wearing a Spanish costume, who wore a flashing jewelledchain round his neck, and she could not keep her eyes off it. Her wholebeing was concentrated into desire to possess the glittering stones,which she regarded as something of supernatural origin. Several yearspreviously, before my mother was married, the same cavalier had paidhis insidious addresses to her, but had been repulsed with indignantscorn. My mother knew him again; but now by the gleam of the brilliantdiamonds he appeared to her to be a being of a higher race--the paragonof beauty. He noticed my mother's looks of ardent desire. He believedhe should now be more successful than formerly. He found means toapproach her, and, yet more, to draw her away from her acquaintances toa retired place. Then he clasped her passionately in his arms, whilstshe laid hold of the handsome chain; but in that moment the cavalierreeled backwards, dragging my mother to the ground along with him.Whatever was the cause--whether he had a sudden stroke, or whether itwas due to something else--enough, the man was dead. All my mother'sefforts to release herself from the stiffened arms of the corpse provedfutile. His glazed eyes, their faculty of vision now extinguished, werefixed upon her; and she lay on the ground with the dead man. At lengthher piercing screams for help reached the ears of some people passingat a distance; they hurried up and freed her from the arms of herghastly lover. The horror prostrated her in a serious illness. Herlife, and mine too, was despaired of; but she recovered, and heraccouchement was more favourable than could have been expected. But theterror of that fearful moment had left its stamp upon _me_. The evilstar of my destiny had got in the ascendant an
d shot down its sparksupon me, enkindling in me a most singular but at the same time a mostpernicious passion. Even in the earliest days of my childhood there wasnothing I thought so much of as I did of flashing diamonds andornaments of gold. It was regarded as an ordinary childish inclination.But the contrary was soon made manifest, for when a boy I stole all thegold and jewellery I could anywhere lay my hands on. Like the mostexperienced goldsmith I could distinguish by instinct false jewelleryfrom real. The latter alone proved an attraction to me; objects made ofimitated gold as well as gold coins I heeded not in the least. Myinborn propensity had, however, to give way to the excessively cruelthrashings which I received at my father's hand.

  "'I adopted the trade of a goldsmith, merely that I might be able tohandle gold and precious stones. I worked with passionate enthusiasmand soon became the first master in the craft. But now began a periodin which my innate propensity, so long repressed, burst forth withvehemence and grew most rapidly, imbibing nourishment from everythingabout it. So soon as I had completed a piece of jewellery, and haddelivered it up to the customer, I fell into a state of unrest, ofdesperate disquiet, which robbed me of sleep and health and courage formy daily life. Day and night the person for whom I had done the workstood before my eyes like a spectre, adorned with my jewellery, whilsta voice whispered in my ears, "Yes, it's yours; yes it's yours. Go andtake it. What does a dead man want diamonds for?" Then I began topractise thievish arts. As I had access to the houses of the great, Ispeedily turned every opportunity to good account: no lock could bafflemy skill; and I soon had the object which I had made in my hands again.But after a time even that did not banish my unrest. That unearthlyvoice still continued to make itself heard in my ears, mocking me toscorn, and crying, "Ho! ho! a dead man is wearing your jewellery." Bysome inexplicable means, which I do not understand, I began to conceivean unspeakable hatred of those for whom I made my ornaments. Ay, deepdown in my heart there began to stir a murderous feeling against them,at which I myself trembled with apprehension.

  "'About this time I bought this house. I had just struck a bargain withthe owner; we were sitting in this room drinking a glass of winetogether and enjoying ourselves over the settlement of our business.Night had come; I rose to go; then the vendor of the house said, "Seehere, Master Rene; before you go, I must make you acquainted with thesecret of the place." Therewith he unlocked that press let into thewall there, pushed away the panels at the back, and stepped into alittle room, where, stooping down, he lifted up a trap-door. Wedescended a flight of steep, narrow stairs, and came to a narrowpostern, which he unlocked, and let us out into the court-yard. Thenthe old gentleman, the previous owner of the house, stepped up to thewall and pressed an iron knob, which projected only very triflinglyfrom it; immediately a portion of the wall swung round, so that a mancould easily slip through the opening, and in that way gain the street.I will show you the neat contrivance some day, Olivier; very likely itwas constructed by the cunning monks of the monastery which formerlystood on this site, in order that they might steal in and out secretly.It is a piece of wood, plastered with mortar and white-washed on theoutside only, and within it, on the side next the street, is fixed astatue, also of wood, but coloured to look exactly like stone, and thewhole piece, together with the statue, moves upon concealed hinges.Dark thoughts swept into my mind when I saw this contrivance; itappeared to have been built with a predestined view to such deeds asyet remained unknown to myself.

  "'I had just completed a valuable ornament for a courtier, and knewthat he intended it for an opera-dancer. The ominous torture assailedme again; the spectre dogged my footsteps; the whispering fiend was atmy ear. I took possession of my new house. I tossed sleeplessly on mycouch, bathed in perspiration, caused by the hideous torments I wasenduring. In imagination I saw the man gliding along to the dancer'sabode with my ornament. I leapt up full of fury; threw on my mantle,went down by the secret stairs, through the wall, and into the RueNicaise. He is coming along; I throw myself upon him; he screams out;but I have seized him fast from behind, and driven my dagger right intohis heart; the ornament is mine. This done I experienced a calmness, asatisfaction in my soul, which I had never yet experienced. The spectrehad vanished; the voice of the fiend was still. Now I knew what my evilDestiny wanted; I had either to yield to it or to perish. And now tooyou understand the secret of all my conduct, Olivier. But do notbelieve, because I must do that for which there is no help, thattherefore I have entirely lost all sense of pity, of compassion, whichis said to be one of the essential properties of human nature. You knowhow hard it is for me to part with a finished piece of work, and thatthere are many for whom I refuse to work at all, because I do not wishtheir death; and it has also happened that when I felt my spectre wouldhave to be exorcised on the following day by blood, I have satisfied itwith a stout blow of the fist the same day, which stretched on theground the owner of my jewel, and delivered the jewel itself into myhand.'

  "Having told me all this Cardillac took me into his secret vault andgranted me a sight of his jewel-cabinet; and the king himself has notone finer. A short label was attached to each article, statingaccurately for whom it was made, when it was recovered, and whether bytheft, or by robbery from the person accompanied with violence, or bymurder. Then Cardillac said in a hollow and solemn voice, 'On yourwedding-day, Olivier, you will have to lay your hand on the image ofthe crucified Christ and swear a solemn oath that after I am dead youwill reduce all these riches to dust, through means which I shall then,before I die, disclose to you. I will not have any human creature,and certainly neither Madelon nor you, come into possession of thisblood-bought treasure-store.' Entangled in this labyrinth of crime, andwith my heart lacerated by love and abhorrence, by rapture and horror,I might be compared to the condemned mortal whom a lovely angel isbeckoning upwards with a gentle smile, whilst on the other hand Satanis holding him fast in his burning talons, till the good angel's smilesof love, in which are reflected all the bliss of the highest heaven,become converted into the most poignant of his miseries. I thought offlight--ay, even of suicide--but Madelon! Blame me, reproach me,honoured lady, for my too great weakness in not fighting down by aneffort of will a passion that was fettering me to crime; but am I notabout to atone for my fault by a death of shame?

  "One day Cardillac came home in uncommonly good spirits. He caressedMadelon, greeted me with the most friendly good-will, and at dinnerdrank a bottle of better wine, of a brand that he only produced on highholidays and festivals, and he also sang and gave vent to his feelingsin exuberant manifestations of joy. When Madelon had left us I rose toreturn to the workshop. 'Sit still, lad,' said Cardillac; 'we'll notwork any more to-day. Let us drink another glass together to the healthof the most estimable and most excellent lady in Paris.' After I hadjoined glasses with him and had drained mine to the bottom, he went on,'Tell me, Olivier, how do you like these verses,'

  'Un amant qui craint les voleuis N'est point digne d'amour.'

  "Then he went on to relate the episode between you and the king in DeMaintenon's salons, adding that he had always honoured you as he neverhad any other human creature, and that you were gifted with such loftyvirtue as to make his ill-omened star of Destiny grow pale, and that ifyou were to wear the handsomest ornament he ever made it would neverprovoke in him either an evil spectre or murderous thoughts. 'Listennow, Olivier,' he said, 'what I have made up my mind to do. A long timeago I received an order for a necklace and a pair of bracelets forHenrietta of England,[20] and the stones were given me for the purpose.The work turned out better than the best I had ever previously done;but my heart was torn at the thought of parting from the ornaments, forthey had become my pet jewels. You are aware of the Princess's unhappydeath by sinister means. The ornaments I retained, and will now sendthem to Mademoiselle de Scuderi in the name of the persecuted band ofrobbers as a token of my respect and gratitude. Not only willMademoiselle receive an eloquent token of her triumph, but I shall alsolaugh Desgrais and his associates to scorn
, as they deserve to belaughed at. You shall take her the ornaments.' As Cardillac mentionedyour name, Mademoiselle, I seemed to see a dark veil thrown aside,revealing the fair, bright picture of my early happy childhood days ingay and cheerful colours. A wondrous source of comfort entered my soul,a ray of hope, before which all my dark spirits faded away. PossiblyCardillac noted the effect which his words had upon me and interpretedit in his own way, 'You appear to find pleasure in my plan,' he said.'And I may as well state to you that I have been commanded to do thisby an inward monitor deep down in my heart, very different from thatwhich demands its holocaust of blood like some ravenous beast of prey.I often experience very remarkable feelings; I am powerfully affectedby an inward apprehension, by fear of something terrible, the horrorsof which breathe upon me in the air from a far-distant world of theSupernatural. I then feel even as if the crimes I commit as the blindinstrument of my ill-starred Destiny may be charged upon my immortalsoul, which has no share in them. During one such mood I vowed to makea diamond crown for the Holy Virgin in St. Eustace's Church. But sooften as I thought seriously about setting to work upon it, I wasoverwhelmed by this unaccountable apprehension, so that I gave up theproject altogether. Now I feel as if I must humbly offer anacknowledgment at the altar of virtue and piety by sending to DeScuderi the handsomest ornaments I have ever worked.'

  "Cardillac, who was intimately acquainted with your habits and ways oflife. Mademoiselle, gave me instructions respecting the manner and thehour--the how and the when--in which I was to deliver the ornaments,which he locked in an elegant case, into your hands. I was completelythrilled with delight, for Heaven itself now pointed out to me throughthe miscreant Cardillac, a way by which I might rescue myself from thehellish thraldom in which I, a sinner and outcast, was slowlyperishing; these at least were my thoughts. In express opposition toCardillac's will I resolved to force myself in to an interview withyou. I intended to reveal myself as Anne Brusson's son, as your ownadoptive child, and to throw myself at your feet and confess all--all.I knew that you would have been so touched by the overwhelming miserywhich would have threatened poor innocent Madelon by any disclosurethat you would have respected the secret; whilst your keen, sagaciousmind would, I felt assured, have devised some means by whichCardillac's infamous wickedness might have been prevented without anyexposure. Pray do not ask me what shape these means would have taken; Ido not know. But that you would save Madelon and me, of that I was mostfirmly convinced, as firmly as I believe in the comfort and help of theHoly Virgin. You know how my intention was frustrated that night,Mademoiselle. I still cherished the hope of being more successfulanother time. Soon after this Cardillac seemed suddenly to lose all hisgood-humour. He went about with a cloudy brow, fixed his eyes onvacancy in front of him, murmured unintelligible words, andgesticulated with his hands, as if warding off something hostile fromhim; his mind appeared to be tormented by evil thoughts. Thus hebehaved during the course of one whole morning. Finally he sat down tohis work-table; but he soon leapt up again peevishly and looked out ofthe window, saying moodily and earnestly, 'I wish after all thatHenrietta of England had worn my ornaments.' These words struck terrorto my heart. Now I knew that his warped mind was again enslaved by theabominable spectre of murder, and that the voice of the fiend was againringing audibly in his ears. I saw your life was threatened by thevillainous demon of murder. If Cardillac only had his ornaments in hishands again, you were saved.

  "Every moment the danger increased. Then I met you on the Pont Neuf,and forced my way to your carriage, and threw you that note, beseechingyou to restore the ornaments which you had received to Cardillac'shands at once. You did not come. My distress deepened to despair whenon the following day Cardillac talked about nothing else but themagnificent ornaments which he had seen before his eyes during thenight. I could only interpret that as having reference to yourjewellery, and I was certain that he was brooding over some freshmurderous onslaught which he had assuredly determined to put intoexecution during the coming night. I must save you, even if it costCardillac's own life. So soon as he had locked himself in his own roomafter evening prayers, according to his wont, I climbed out of a windowinto the court-yard, slipped through the opening in the wall, and tookup my station at no great distance, hidden in the deep shade. I had notlong to wait before Cardillac appeared and stole softly up the street,me following him. He bent his steps towards the Rue St. Honore; myheart trembled with apprehension. All of a sudden I lost sight of him.I made up my mind to take post at your house-door. Then there came anofficer past me, without perceiving me, singing and gaily humming atune to himself, as on the occasion when chance first made me a witnessof Cardillac's bloody deeds. But that selfsame moment a dark figureleapt forward and fell upon the officer. It was Cardillac. This murderI would at any rate prevent. With a loud shout I reached the spot intwo or three bounds, when, not the officer, but Cardillac, fell on thefloor groaning. The officer let his dagger fall, and drawing his swordput himself in a posture for fighting, imagining that I was themurderer's accomplice; but when he saw that I was only concerned aboutthe slain man, and did not trouble myself about him, he hurried away.Cardillac was still alive. After picking up and taking charge of thedagger which the officer had let fall, I loaded my master upon myshoulders and painfully hugged him home, carrying him up to theworkshop by way of the concealed stairs. The rest you know.

  "You see, honoured lady, that my only crime consists in the fact that Idid not betray Madelon's father to the officers of the law, and so putan end to his enormities. My hands are clean of any deed of blood. Notorture shall extort from me a confession of Cardillac's crimes. I willnot, in defiance of the Eternal Power, which veiled the father'shideous bloodguiltiness from the eyes of the virtuous daughter, beinstrumental in unfolding all the misery of the past, which would nowhave a far more disastrous effect upon her, nor do I wish to aidworldly vengeance in rooting up the dead man from the earth whichcovers him, nor that the executioner should now brand the moulderingbones with dishonour. No; the beloved of my soul will weep for me asone who has fallen innocent, and time will soften her sorrow; but howirretrievable a shock would it be if she learnt of the fearful anddiabolical deeds of her dearly-loved father."

  Olivier paused; but now a torrent of tears suddenly burst from hiseyes, and he threw himself at De Scuderi's feet imploringly. "Oh! nowyou are convinced of my innocence--oh! surely you must be! have pityupon me; tell me how my Madelon bears it." Mademoiselle summoned LaMartiniere, and in a few moments more Madelon's arms were roundOlivier's neck. "Now all is well again since you are here. I knew it, Iknew this most noble-minded lady would save you," cried Madelon againand again; and Olivier forgot his situation and all that was impendingover him, he was free and happy. It was most touching to hear the twomutually pour out all their troubles, and relate all that they hadsuffered for one another's sake; then they embraced one another anew,and wept with joy to see each other again.

  If De Scuderi had not been already convinced of Olivier's innocence shewould assuredly have been satisfied of it now as she sat watching thetwo, who forgot the world and their misery and their excessivesufferings in the happiness of their deep and genuine mutual affection."No," she said to herself, "it is only a pure heart which is capable ofsuch happy oblivion."

  The bright beams of morning broke in through the window. Desgraisknocked softly at the room door, and reminded those within that it wastime to take Olivier Brusson away, since this could not be done laterwithout exciting a commotion. The lovers were obliged to separate.

  The dim shapeless feelings which had taken possession of De Scuderi'smind on Olivier's first entry into the room, had now acquired form andcontent--and in a fearful way. She saw the son of her dear Anneinnocently entangled in such a way that there hardly seemed anyconceivable means of saving him from a shameful death. She honoured theyoung man's heroic purpose in choosing to die under an unjust burden ofguilt rather than divulge a secret that would certainly kill hisMadelon. In the whole region of possibility s
he could not find anymeans whatever to snatch the poor fellow out of the hands of the crueltribunal. And yet she had a most clear conception that she ought not tohesitate at any sacrifice to avert this monstrous perversion of justicewhich was on the point of being committed. She racked her brain with ahundred different schemes and plans, some of which bordered upon theextravagant, but all these she rejected almost as soon as theysuggested themselves. Meanwhile the rays of hope grew fainter andfainter, till at last she was on the verge of despair. But Madelon'sunquestioning child-like confidence, the rapturous enthusiasm withwhich she spoke of her lover, who now, absolved of all guilt, wouldsoon clasp her in his arms as his bride, infused De Scuderi with newhope and courage, exactly in proportion as she was the more touched bythe girl's words.

  At length, for the sake of doing something. De Scuderi wrote a longletter to La Regnie, in which she informed him that Olivier Brusson hadproved to her in the most convincing manner his perfect innocence ofCardillac's death, and that it was only his heroic resolve to carrywith him into the grave a secret, the revelation of which would entaildisaster upon virtue and innocence, that prevented him making arevelation to the court which would undoubtedly free him, not only fromthe fearful suspicion of having murdered Cardillac, but also of havingbelonged to a band of vile assassins. De Scuderi did all that burningzeal, that ripe and spirited eloquence could effect, to soften LaRegnie's hard heart. In the course of a few hours La Regnie repliedthat he was heartily glad to learn that Olivier Brusson had justifiedhimself so completely in the eyes of his noble and honouredprotectress. As for Olivier's heroic resolve to carry with him into thegrave a secret that had an important bearing upon the crime underinvestigation, he was sorry to say that the _Chambre Ardente_ could notrespect such heroic courage, but would rather be compelled to adopt thestrongest means to break it. At the end of three days he hoped to be inpossession of this extraordinary secret, which it might be presumedwould bring wonders to light.

  De Scuderi knew only too well what those means were by which the savageLa Regnie intended to break Brusson's heroic constancy. She was nowsure that the unfortunate was threatened with the rack. In herdesperate anxiety it at length occurred to her that the advice of adoctor of the law would be useful, if only to effectuate a postponementof the torture. The most renowned advocate in Paris at that time wasPierre Amaud d'Andilly; and his sound knowledge and liberal mind wereonly to be compared to his virtue and his sterling honesty. To him,therefore, De Scuderi had recourse, and she told him all, so far as shecould, without violating Brusson's secret She expected that D'Andillywould take up the cause of the innocent man with zeal, but she foundher hopes most bitterly deceived. The lawyer listened calmly to all shehad to say, and then replied in Boileau's words, smiling as he did so,"_Le vrai peut quelque fois n'etre pas vraisemblable_" (Sometimes truthwears an improbable garb). He showed De Scuderi that there were mostnoteworthy grounds for suspicion against Brusson, that La Regnie'sproceedings could neither be called cruel nor yet hurried, rather theywere perfectly within the law--nay, that he could not act otherwisewithout detriment to his duties as judge. He himself did not see hisway to saving Brusson from torture, even by the cleverest defence.Nobody but Brusson himself could avert it, either by a candidconfession or at least by a most detailed account of all thecircumstances attending Cardillac's murder, and this might then perhapsfurnish grounds for instituting fresh inquiries. "Then I will throwmyself at the king's feet and pray for mercy," said De Scuderi,distracted, her voice half choked by tears. "For Heaven's sake, don'tdo it, Mademoiselle, don't do it. I would advise you to reserve thislast resource, for if it once fail it is lost to you for ever. The kingwill never pardon a criminal of this class: he would draw down uponhimself the bitterest reproaches of the people, who would believe theirlives were always in danger. Possibly Brusson, either by disclosing hissecret or by some other means, may find a way to allay the suspicionswhich are working against him. Then will be the time to appeal to theking for mercy, for he will not inquire what has been proved before thecourt, but be guided by his own inner conviction." De Scuderi had nohelp for it but to admit that D'Andilly with his great experience wasin the right.

  Late one evening she was sitting in her own room in very great trouble,appealing to the Virgin and the Holy Saints, and thinking whatevershould she do to save the unhappy Brusson, when La Martiniere came into announce that Count de Miossens, colonel of the King's Guards, wasurgently desiring to speak to Mademoiselle.

  "Pardon me, Mademoiselle," said Miossens, bowing with military grace,"pardon me for intruding upon you so late, at such an inconvenienthour. We soldiers cannot do as we like, and then a couple of words willsuffice to excuse me. It is on Olivier Brusson's account that I havecome." De Scuderi's attention was at once on the stretch as to what wasto follow, and she said, "Olivier Brusson?--that most unhappy ofmortals? What have you to do with him?" "Yes, I did indeed think,"continued Miossens smiling, "that your _protege's_ name would besufficient to procure me a favourable hearing. All the public areconvinced of Brusson's guilt. But you, I know, cling to anotheropinion, which is based, to be sure, upon the protestations of theaccused, as it is said; with me, however, it is otherwise. Nobody canbe more firmly convinced that Brusson is innocent of Cardillac's deaththan I am." "Oh! go on and tell me; go on, pray!" exclaimed De Scuderi,whilst her eyes sparkled with delight. Miossens continued, speakingwith emphasis, "It was I--I who stabbed the old goldsmith not far fromyour house here in the Rue St. Honors." "By the Saints!--you--you?"exclaimed Mademoiselle. "And I swear to you, Mademoiselle," went onMiossens, "that I am proud of the deed. For let me tell you thatCardillac was the most abandoned and hypocritical of villains, that itwas he who committed those dreadful murders and robberies by night, andso long escaped all traps laid for him. Somehow, I can't say how, astrong feeling of suspicion was aroused in my mind against the oldreprobate when he brought me an ornament I had ordered and was sovisibly disturbed on giving it to me; and then he inquired particularlyfor whom I wanted the ornament, and also questioned my valet in themost artful way as to when I was in the habit of visiting a certainlady. I had long before noticed that all the unfortunates who fellvictims to this abominable epidemic of murder and robbery bore one andthe same wound. I felt sure that the assassin had by practice grownperfect in inflicting it, and that it must prove instantaneously fatal,and upon this he relied implicitly. If it failed, then it would come toa fight on equal terms. This led me to adopt a measure of precautionwhich is so simple that I cannot comprehend why it did not occur toothers, who might then have safeguarded themselves against anymurderous assault that threatened them. I wore a light shirt of mailunder my tunic. Cardillac attacked me from behind. He laid hold upon mewith the strength of a giant, but the surely-aimed blow glanced asidefrom the iron. That same moment I wrested myself free from his grasp,and drove my dagger, which I held in readiness, into his heart." "Andyou maintained silence?" asked De Scuderi; "you did not notify to thetribunals what you had done?" "Permit me to remark," went on Miossens,"permit me to remark, Mademoiselle, that such an announcement, if ithad not at once entailed disastrous results upon me, would at any ratehave involved me in a most detestable trial. Would La Regnie, whoferrets out crime everywhere--would he have believed my unsupportedword if I had accused honest Cardillac, the pattern of piety andvirtue, of an attempted murder? What if the sword of justice had turnedits point against me?" "That would not have been possible," said DeScuderi, "your birth--your rank"---- "Oh! remember Marshal deLuxembourg, whose whim for having his horoscope cast by Le Sage broughthim under the suspicion of being a poisoner, and eventually intothe Bastille. No! by St. Denis! I would not risk my freedom for anhour--not even the lappet of my ear--in the power of that madman LaRegnie, who only too well would like to have his knife at the throatsof all of us." "But do you know you are bringing innocent Brusson tothe scaffold?" "Innocent?" rejoined Miossens, "innocent? Are youspeaking of the villain Cardillac's accomplice, Mademoiselle? he whohelped him in his evil deeds? who deserves
to die a hundred deaths?No, indeed! He would meet a just end on the scaffold. I have onlydisclosed to you, honoured lady, the details of the occurrence on thepresupposition that, without delivering me into the hands of the_Chambre Ardent_, you will yet find a way to turn my secret to accounton behalf of your _protege_."

  De Scuderi was so enraptured at finding her conviction of Brusson'sinnocence confirmed in such a decisive manner that she did not scrupleto tell the Count all, since he already knew of Cardillac's iniquity,and to exhort him to accompany her to see D'Andilly. To _him_ allshould be revealed under the seal of secrecy, and he should advise themwhat was to be done.

  After De Scuderi had related all to D'Andilly down to the minutestparticulars, he inquired once more about several of the mostinsignificant features. In particular he asked Count Miossens whetherhe was perfectly satisfied that it was Cardillac who had attacked him,and whether he would be able to identify Olivier Brusson as the man whohad carried away the corpse. De Miossens made answer, "Not only did Ivery well recognise Cardillac by the bright light of the moon, but Ihave also seen in La Regnie's hands the dagger with which Cardillac wasstabbed; it is mine, distinguished by the elegant workmanship of thehilt. As I only stood one yard from the young man, and his hat hadfallen off, I distinctly saw his features, and should certainlyrecognise him again."

  After gazing thoughtfully before him for some minutes in silence,D'Andilly said, "Brusson cannot possibly be saved from the hands ofjustice in any ordinary and regular way. Out of consideration forMadelon he refuses to accuse Cardillac of being the thievish assassin.And he must continue to do so, for even if he succeeded in proving hisstatements by pointing out the secret exit and the accumulated store ofstolen jewellery, he would still be liable to death as a partner inCardillac's guilt. And the bearings of things would not be altered ifCount Miossens were to state to the judges the real details of themeeting with Cardillac. The only thing we can aim at securing is apostponement of the torture. Let Count Miossens go to the_Conciergerie_, have Olivier Brusson brought forward, and recognise inhim the man who carried away Cardillac's dead body. Then let him hurryoff to La Regnie and say, 'I saw a man stabbed in the Rue St. Honore,and as I stood close beside the corpse another man sprang forward andstooped down over the dead body; but on finding signs of life in him helifted him on his shoulders and carried him away. This man I recognisein Olivier Brusson.' This evidence would lead to another hearing ofBrusson and to his confrontation with Miossens. At all events thetorture would be delayed and further inquiries would be instituted.Then will come the proper time to appeal to the king. It may be left toyour sagacity, Mademoiselle, to do this in the adroitest manner. As faras my opinion goes, I think it would be best to disclose to him thewhole mystery. Brusson's confessions are borne out by this statement ofCount Miossens; and they may, perhaps, be still further substantiatedby secret investigations at Cardillac's own house. All this could notafford grounds for a verdict of acquittal by the court, but it mightappeal to the king's feelings, that it is his prerogative to speakmercy where the judge can only condemn, and so elicit a favourabledecision from His Majesty." Count Miossens followed implicitlyD'Andilly's advice; and the result was what the latter had foreseen.

  But now the thing was to get at the king; and this was the mostdifficult part of all to accomplish, since he believed that Brussonalone was the formidable assassin who for so long a time had held allParis enthralled by fear and anxiety, and accordingly he had conceivedsuch an abhorrence of him that he burst into a violent fit of passionat the slightest allusion to the notorious trial. De Maintenon,faithful to her principle of never speaking to the king on any subjectthat was disagreeable, refused to take any steps in the affair; and soBrusson's fate rested entirely in De Scuderi's hands. After longdeliberation she formed a resolution which she carried into executionas promptly as she had conceived it. Putting on a robe of heavy black,silk, and hanging Cardillac's valuable necklace round her neck, andclasping the bracelets on her arms, and throwing a black veil over herhead, she presented herself in De Maintenon's salons at a time when sheknew the king would be present there. This stately robe invested thevenerable lady's noble figure with such majesty as could not fail toinspire respect, even in the mob of idle loungers who were wont tocollect in anterooms, laughing and jesting in frivolous and irreverentfashion. They all shyly made way for her; and when she entered thesalon the king himself in his astonishment rose and came to meet her.As his eyes fell upon the glitter of the costly diamonds in thenecklace and bracelets, he cried, "'Pon my soul, that's Cardillac'sjewellery!" Then, turning to De Maintenon, he added with an arch smile,"See, Marchioness, how our fair bride mourns for her bridegroom." "Oh!your Majesty," broke in De Scuderi, taking up the jest and carrying iton, "would it indeed beseem a deeply sorrowful bride to adorn herselfin this splendid fashion? No, I have quite broken off with thatgoldsmith, and should never think about him more, were it not that thehorrid recollection of him being carried past me after he had beenmurdered so often recurs to my mind." "What do you say?" asked theking. "What! you saw the poor devil?" De Scuderi now related in a fewwords how she chanced to be near Cardillac's house just as the murderwas discovered--as yet she did not allude to Brusson's being mixed upin the matter. She sketched Madelon's excessive grief, told what a deepimpression the angelic child made upon her, and described in what wayshe had rescued the poor girl out of Desgrais' hands, amid theapproving shouts of the people. Then came the scenes with La Regnie,with Desgrais, with Brusson--the interest deepening and intensifyingfrom moment to moment. The king was so carried away by theextraordinary graphic power and burning eloquence of Mademoiselle'snarration that he did not perceive she was talking about the hatefultrial of the abominable wretch Brusson; he was quite unable to utter aword; all he could do was to let off the excess of his emotion by anexclamation from time to time. Ere he knew where he was--he was soutterly confused by this unprecedented tale which he had heard that hewas unable to order his thoughts--De Scuderi was prostrate at his feet,imploring pardon for Olivier Brusson. "What are you doing?" burst outthe king, taking her by both hands and forcing her into a chair. "Whatdo you mean, Mademoiselle? This is a strange way to surprise me. Oh!it's a terrible story. Who will guarantee me that Brusson's marvelloustale is true?" Whereupon De Scuderi replied, "Miossens' evidence--anexamination of Cardillac's house--my heart-felt conviction--and oh!Madelon's virtuous heart, which recognised the like virtue in unhappyBrusson's." Just as the king was on the point of making some reply hewas interrupted by a noise at the door, and turned round. Louvois, whoduring this time was working in the adjoining apartment, looked in withan expression of anxiety stamped upon his features. The king rose andleft the room, following Louvois.

  The two ladies, both De Scuderi and De Maintenon, regarded thisinterruption as dangerous, for having been once surprised the kingwould be on his guard against falling a second time into the trap setfor him. Nevertheless after a lapse of some minutes the king came backagain; after traversing the room once or twice at a quick pace, heplanted himself immediately in front of De Scuderi and, throwing hisarms behind his back, said in almost an undertone, yet without lookingat her, "I should very much like to see your Madelon." Mademoisellereplied, "Oh! my precious liege! what a great--great happiness yourcondescension will confer upon the poor unhappy child. Oh! the littlegirl only waits a sign from you to approach, to throw herself at yourfeet." Then she tripped towards the door as quickly as she was able inher heavy clothing, and called out on the outside of it that the kingwould admit Madelon Cardillac; and she came back into the room weepingand sobbing with overpowering delight and gladness.

  De Scuderi had foreseen that some such favour as this might be grantedand so had brought Madelon along with her, and she was waiting with theMarchioness' lady-in-waiting with a short petition in her hands thathad been drawn up by D'Andilly. After a few minutes she lay prostrateat the king's feet, unable to speak a word. The throbbing blood wasdriven quicker and faster through the poor girl's veins owing toanxiety, nerv
ous confusion, shy reverence, love, and anguish. Hercheeks were died with a deep purple blush; her eyes shone with brightpearly tears, which from time to time fell through her silken eyelashesupon her beautiful lily-white bosom. The king appeared to be struckwith the surprising beauty of the angelic creature. He softly raisedher up, making a motion as if about to kiss the hand which he hadgrasped. But he let it go again and regarded the lovely girl with tearsin his eyes, thus betraying how great was the emotion stirring withinhim. De Maintenon softly whispered to Mademoiselle, "Isn't she exactlylike La Valliere,[21] the little thing? There's hardly a pin'sdifference between them. The king luxuriates in the most pleasingmemories. Your cause is won."

  Notwithstanding the low tone in which De Maintenon spoke, the kingappeared to have heard what she said. A fleeting blush passed acrosshis face; his eye wandered past De Maintenon; he read the petitionwhich Madelon had presented to him, and then said mildly and kindly, "Iam quite ready to believe, my dear child, that you are convinced ofyour lover's innocence; but let us hear what the _Chambre Ardente_ hasgot to say to it." With a gentle wave of the hand he dismissed theyoung girl, who was weeping as if her heart would break.

  To her dismay De Scuderi observed that the recollection of La Valliere,however beneficial it had appeared to be at first, had occasioned theking to alter his mind as soon as De Maintenon mentioned her name.Perhaps the king felt he was being reminded in a too indelicate way ofhow he was about to sacrifice strict justice to beauty, or perhaps hewas like the dreamer, when, on somebody's shouting to him, the lovelydream-images which he was about to clasp, quickly vanish away. Perhapshe no longer saw _his_ La Valliere before his eyes, but only thought ofS[oe]ur Louise de la Misericorde (Louise the Sister of Mercy),--thename La Valliere had assumed on joining the Carmelite nuns--who worriedhim with her pious airs and repentance. What else could they now do butcalmly wait for the king's decision?

  Meanwhile Count Miossens' deposition before the _Chambre Ardente_ hadbecome publicly known; and as it frequently happens that the peoplerush so readily from one extreme to another, so on this occasion hewhom they had at first cursed as a most abominable murderer and hadthreatened to tear to pieces, they now pitied, even before he ascendedthe scaffold, as the innocent victim of barbarous justice. Now hisneighbours first began to call to mind his exemplary walk of life, hisgreat love for Madelon, and the faithfulness and touching submissiveaffection which he had cherished for the old goldsmith. Considerablebodies of the populace began to appear in a threatening manner beforeLa Regnie's palace and to cry out, "Give us Olivier Brusson; he isinnocent;" and they even stoned the windows, so that La Regnie wasobliged to seek shelter from the enraged mob with the _Marechaussee_.

  Several days passed, and Mademoiselle heard not the least intelligenceabout Olivier Brusson's trial. She was quite inconsolable and went offto Madame de Maintenon; but she assured her that the king maintained astrict silence about the matter, and it would not be advisable toremind him of it. Then when she went on to ask with a smile of singularimport how little La Valliere was doing, De Scuderi was convinced thatdeep down in the heart of the proud lady there lurked some feeling ofvexation at this business, which might entice the susceptible king intoa region whose charm she could not understand. Mademoiselle needtherefore hope for nothing from De Maintenon.

  At last, however, with D'Andilly's help, De Scuderi succeeded infinding out that the king had had a long and private interview withCount Miossens. Further, she learned that Bontems, the king's mostconfidential valet and general agent, had been to the Conciergerie andhad an interview with Brusson, also that the same Bontems had one nightgone with several men to Cardillac's house, and there spent aconsiderable time. Claude Patru, the man who inhabited the lowerstorey, maintained that they were knocking about overhead all nightlong, and he was sure that Olivier had been with them, for hedistinctly heard his voice. This much was, therefore, at any ratecertain, that the king himself was having the true history of thecircumstances inquired into; but the long delay before he gave hisdecision was inexplicable. La Regnie would no doubt do all he possiblycould to keep his grip upon the victim who was to be taken out of hisclutches. And this annihilated every hope as soon as it began to bud.

  A month had nearly passed when De Maintenon sent word to Mademoisellethat the king wished to see her that evening in her salons.

  De Scuderi's heart beat high; she knew that Brusson's case would now bedecided. She told poor Madelon so, who prayed fervently to the Virginand the saints that they would awaken in the king's mind a convictionof Brusson's innocence.

  Yet it appeared as though the king had completely forgotten the matter,for in his usual way he dallied in graceful conversation with the twoladies, and never once made any allusion to poor Brusson. At lastBontems appeared, and approaching the king whispered certain words inhis ear, but in so low a tone that neither De Maintenon nor De Scudericould make anything out of them. Mademoiselle's heart quaked. Then theking rose to his feet and approached her, saying with brimming eyes, "Icongratulate you, Mademoiselle. Your _protege_ Olivier Brusson, isfree." The tears gushed from the old lady's eyes; unable to speak aword, she was about to throw herself at the king's feet. But heprevented her, saying, "Go, go, Mademoiselle. You ought to be myadvocate in Parliament and plead my causes, for, by St. Denis, there'snobody on earth could withstand your eloquence; and yet," he continued,"and yet when Virtue herself has taken a man under her own protection,is he not safe from all base accusations, from the _Chambre Ardente_and all other tribunals in the world?" De Scuderi now found words andpoured them out in a stream of glowing thanks. The king interruptedher, by informing her that she herself would find awaiting her in herown house still warmer thanks than he had a right to claim from her,for probably at that moment the happy Olivier was clasping his Madelonin his arms. "Bontems shall pay you a thousand _Louis d'or_," concludedthe king. "Give them in my name to the little girl as a dowry. Let hermarry her Brusson, who doesn't deserve such good fortune, and then letthem both be gone out of Paris, for such is my will."

  La Martiniere came running forward to meet her mistress, and Baptistebehind her; the faces of both were radiant with joy; both crieddelighted, "He is here! he is free! O the dear young people!" The happycouple threw themselves at Mademoiselle's feet. "Oh! I knew it! I knewit!" cried Madelon. "I knew that you, that nobody but you, would savemy darling Olivier." "And O my mother," cried Olivier, "my belief inyou never wavered." They both kissed the honoured lady's hands, andshed innumerable tears. Then they embraced each other again and again,affirming that the exquisite happiness of that moment outweighed allthe unutterable sufferings of the days that were past; and they vowednever to part from each other till Death himself came to part them.

  A few days later they were united by the blessing of the priest. Eventhough it had not been the King's wish, Brusson would not have stayedin Paris, where everything would have reminded him of the fearful timeof Cardillac's crimes, and where, moreover, some accident might revealin pernicious wise his dark secret, now become known to severalpersons, and so his peace of mind might be ruined for ever. Almostimmediately after the wedding he set out with his young wife forGeneva, Mademoiselle's blessings accompanying them on the way. Richlyprovided with means through Madelon's dowry, and endowed with uncommonskill at his trade, as well as with every virtue of a good citizen, heled there a happy life, free from care. He realised the hopes which haddeceived his father and had brought him at last to his grave.

  A year after Brusson's departure there appeared a public proclamation,signed by Harloy de Chauvalon, Archbishop of Paris, and by theparliamentary advocate, Pierre Arnaud d'Andilly, which ran to theeffect that a penitent sinner had, under the seal of confession, handedover to the Church a large and valuable store of jewels and goldornaments which he had stolen. Everybody who up to the end of the year1680 had lost ornaments by theft, particularly by a murderous attack inthe public street, was to apply to D'Andilly, and then, if hisdescription of the ornament which had been stolen from him ta
lliedexactly with any of the pieces awaiting identification, and if furtherthere existed no doubt as to the legitimacy of his claim, he shouldreceive his property again. Many of those whose names stood onCardillac's list as having been, not murdered, but merely stunned by ablow, gradually came one after the other to the parliamentary advocate,and received, to their no little amazement, their stolen property backagain. The rest fell to the coffers of the Church of St. Eustace.

  FOOTNOTES TO "MADEMOISELLE DE SCUDERI":

  [Footnote 1: Madeleine de Scudery (1607-1701), a native of Normandy,went to Paris and became connected with the Hotel Rambouillet.Afterwards, on its being broken up by the troubles of the Fronde, sheformed a literary circle of her own, their "Saturday gatherings"becoming celebrated. Mademoiselle de Scudery wrote some vapid andtedious novels, amongst which were the _Clelie_ (1656), an historicalromance, to be mentioned presently in the text.]

  [Footnote 2: The well-known wife of Scarron, then the successor ofMadame de Montespan in the favour of Louis XIV., and afterwards hiswife.]

  [Footnote 3: A kind of mounted gensdarmes or police.]

  [Footnote 4: Supposed to have been arsenic.]

  [Footnote 5: These facts are all for the most part historically true.]

  [Footnote 6: Marie M. d'Aubray, Marquise de Brinvilliers, a notoriouspoisoner, executed July 16, 1676. Madame de Sevigne's _Lettres_ containinteresting information on the events of this period. A special historyof De Brinvillier's trial was also published in the same year, 1676.]

  [Footnote 7: An old servant of Sainte Croix's, whose real name was JeanAmelin.]

  [Footnote 8: Nicholas G. de la Reynie was born at Limoges in 1625; heacquired a sort of Judge Jeffreys' reputation by his cruelties andbloodthirstiness as president of the _Chambre Ardente_.]

  [Footnote 9: These two ladies, Marie and Olympe Mancini, were sisters,nieces of Mazarin. The latter was promoted to be head of the Queen'shousehold, and thus provoked the hatred of Madame de Montespan (theKing's mistress) and Louvois, through whose machinations she wasaccused before the _Chambre Ardente_.]

  [Footnote 10: Francois Henry de Montmorency, Duke of Luxembourg, wasknown until 1661 by the name of Bouteville. His name stands high on theroll of distinguished French Marshals.]

  [Footnote 11: Francois Michel Le Tellier, Marquis de Louvois(1639-91), Louis XIV.'s minister at this time.]

  [Footnote 12: Her real answer was, "Je le vois en ce moment; il estfort laid et fort vilain; il est deguise en conseiller d'etat." (I seehim at this moment; he is very ugly and very hideous; he is disguisedas a state councillor.)]

  [Footnote 13: The Marquis de la Fare had liaisons, first with Madame deRochefort, with Louvois for rival, and afterwards with Madame de laSabliere.]

  [Footnote 14: This incident is not an invention of the author's. Hestates that he got it from Wagenseil's _Chronik von Nuernberg_ (1697),the said Wagenseilius having been to Paris and paid a visit toMademoiselle de Scudery herself. The answer this lady gave the king isalso historically true, according to Hoffmann, and it was spoken undercircumstances almost exactly like those represented in the text.]

  [Footnote 15: The old _Louis d'Or_ of Louis XIV. = about L1, 0s. 3d.(Cf. A _Frederick d'or_ was a gold coin worth five thalers.--Note, p.281, vol. I.)]

  [Footnote 16: One of Louis XIV.'s former mistresses--Marie deRoussille, Duchess de Fontanges (1661-1681)--is described as being ofgreat beauty, but deficient in intellectual grace and charm of manner,and as being arrogant and cold-hearted.]

  [Footnote 17: Jean de la Chapelle (1655-1723) attempted to fill the gapleft in the dramatic world by Racine's retirement from play-writing,though,--it is said, with but indifferent success.]

  [Footnote 18: It was constructed after plans by this Claude Perrault in1666-1670.]

  [Footnote 19: The well-known pleasure castle erected by Louis XIV. atVersailles for De Maintenon.]

  [Footnote 20: Daughter of Charles I. and Henrietta Maria of France; shedied 29th June, 1670, believing herself to have been poisoned; and thiswas currently accepted in France, though now rejected by historians asincorrect.]

  [Footnote 21: Francoise Louise, Duchess de La Valliere, a formermistress of Louis XIV. On being supplanted in the monarch's favour byMadame de Montespan, she entered the order of Carmelite nuns.]