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  CHAPTER X.

  HOW BUSSY WENT TO SEEK FOR THE REALITY OF HIS DREAM.

  When Bussy returned home again, he was still thinking of his dream.

  "Morbleu!" said he, "it is impossible that a dream should have leftsuch a vivid impression on my mind. I see it all so clearly;--thebed, the lady, the doctor. I must seek for it--surely I can findit again." Then Bussy, after having the bandage of his woundresettled by a valet, put on high boots, took his sword, wrappedhimself in his cloak, and set off for the same place where he hadbeen nearly murdered the night before, and nearly at the samehour.

  He went in a litter to the Rue Roi-de-Sicile, then got out, andtold his servants to wait for him. It was about nine in the evening,the curfew had sounded, and Paris was deserted. Bussy arrivedat the Bastile, then he sought for the place where his horsehad fallen, and thought he had found it; he next endeavored torepeat his movements of the night before, retreated to the wall,and examined every door to find the corner against which he hadleaned, but all the doors seemed alike.

  "Pardieu!" said he, "if I were to knock at each of these doorsquestion all the lodgers, spend a thousand crowns to make valetsand old women speak, I might learn what I want to know. Thereare fifty houses; it would take me at least five nights."

  As he spoke, he perceived a small and trembling light approaching.

  This light advanced slowly, and irregularly, stopping occasionally,moving on again, and going first to the right, then to the left,then, for a minute, coming straight on, and again diverging.Bussy leaned against a door, and waited. The light continuedto advance, and soon he could see a black figure, which, as itadvanced, took the form of a man, holding a lantern in his lefthand. He appeared to Bussy to belong to the honorable fraternityof drunkards, for nothing else seemed to explain the eccentricmovements of the lantern. At last he slipped over a piece ofice, and fell. Bussy was about to come forward and offer hisassistance, but the man and the lantern were quickly up again,and advanced directly towards him, when he saw, to his greatsurprise, that the man had a bandage over his eyes. "Well!" thoughthe, "it is a strange thing to play at blind man's buff with alantern in your hand. Am I beginning to dream again? And, goodheavens! he is talking to himself. If he be not drunk or mad,he is a mathematician."

  This last surmise was suggested by the words that Bussy heard.

  "488, 489, 490," murmured the man, "it must be near here." Andthen he raised his bandage, and finding himself in front of ahouse, examined it attentively.

  "No, it is not this," he said. Then, putting back his bandage,he recommenced his walk and his calculations. "491, 492, 493,494; I must be close." And he raised his bandage again, and,approaching the door next to that against which Bussy was standing,began again to examine.

  "Hum!" said he, "it might, but all these doors are so alike."

  "The same reflection I have just made," thought Bussy.

  However, the mathematician now advanced to the next door, andgoing up to it, found himself face to face with Bussy.

  "Oh!" cried he, stepping back.

  "Oh!" cried Bussy.

  "It is not possible."

  "Yes; but it is extraordinary. You are the doctor?"

  "And you the gentleman?"

  "Just so."

  "Mon Dieu! how strange."

  "The doctor," continued Bussy, "who yesterday dressed a woundfor a gentleman?"

  "Yes, in the right side."

  "Exactly so. You had a gentle, light, and skilful hand."

  "Ah, sir, I did not expect to find you here."

  "But what were you looking for?"

  "The house."

  "Then you do not know it?"

  "How should I? They brought me here with my eyes bandaged."

  "Then you really came here?"

  "Either to this house or the next."

  "Then I did not dream?"

  "Dream?"

  "I confess I feared it was all a dream."

  "Ah! I fancied there was some mystery."

  "A mystery which you must help me to unravel."

  "Willingly."

  "What is your name?"

  "Monsieur, to such a question I ought, perhaps, to reply by lookingfierce, and saying, 'Yours, monsieur, if you please; but you havea long sword, and I only a lancet; you seem to me a gentleman,and I cannot appear so to you, for I am wet and dirty. Therefore,I reply frankly: I am called Remy-le-Haudouin."

  "Very well, monsieur; I thank you. I am Louis de Clermont, Comtede Bussy."

  "Bussy d'Amboise! the hero Bussy!" cried the young doctor, joyfully."What, monsieur, you are that famous Bussy----?"

  "I am Bussy," replied he. "And now, wet and dirty as you are,will you satisfy my curiosity?"

  "The fact is," said the young man, "that I shall be obliged,like Epaminondas the Theban, to stay two days at home, for Ihave but one doublet and trousers. But, pardon, you did me thehonor to question me, I think?"

  "Yes, monsieur, I asked you how you came to this house?"

  "M. le Comte, this is how it happened; I lodge in the RueBeauheillis, 502 steps from here. I am a poor surgeon, not unskilful,I hope."

  "I can answer for that."

  "And who has studied much, but without any patients. Seven oreight days ago, a man having received behind the Arsenal a stabwith a knife, I sewed up the wound, and cured him. This made forme some reputation in the neighborhood, to which I attributethe happiness of having been last night awoke by a pretty voice."

  "A woman's?"

  "Yes, but, rustic as I am, I knew it to be the voice of a servant.I know them well."

  "And what did you do?"

  "I rose and opened my door, but scarcely had I done so, when twolittle hands, not very soft, but not very hard, put a bandageover my eyes, without saying anything."

  "'Oh!' she said, 'come, do not try to see where you are going,be discreet, here is your recompense;' and she placed in my handa purse."

  "Ah! and what did you say?"

  "That I was ready to follow my charming conductress. I did notknow if she were charming or not, but I thought that the epithet,even if exaggerated, could do no harm."

  "And you asked no more?"

  "I had often read these kinds of histories in books, and I hadremarked that they always turned out well for the doctor. ThereforeI followed, and I counted 498 paces."

  "Good; then this must be the door."

  "It cannot be far off, at all events, unless she led me by somedetour, which I half suspect."

  "But did she pronounce no name?"

  "None."

  "But you remarked something?"

  "All that one could with one's fingers, a door with nails, thena passage, and then a staircase----"

  "On the left?"

  "Yes; and I counted the steps. Then I think we came to a corridor,for they opened three doors."

  "Well?"

  "Then I heard another voice, and that belonged to the mistress,I am sure; it was sweet and gentle."

  "Yes, yes, it was hers."

  "Good, it was hers."

  "I am sure of it."

  "Then they pushed me into the room where you were, and told meto take off my bandage, when I saw you----"

  "Where was I?"

  "On a bed."

  "A bed of white and gold damask?"

  "Yes."

  "In a room hung with tapestry?"

  "Just so."

  "And a painted ceiling?"

  "Yes, and between two windows----"

  "A portrait?"

  "Yes."

  "Representing a woman about nineteen?"

  "Yes."

  "Blonde, and beautiful as an angel?"

  "More beautiful."

  "Bravo! what did you do then?"

  "I dressed your wound."

  "And, ma foi! very well."

  "As well as I could."

  "Admirably! this morning it was nearly well."

  "It is thanks to a balm I have composed, and which appears tome sovereign, for many times, not knowing
who to practise upon,I have made wounds on myself, and they were always well in twoor three days."

  "My dear M. Remy, you are a charming doctor. Well, afterwards?"

  "You fainted again. The voice asked me how you were."

  "From whence?"

  "From a room at the side."

  "So you did not see her?"

  "No."

  "And you replied?"

  "That the wound was not dangerous, and in twenty-four hours wouldbe well."

  "She seemed pleased?"

  "Charmed; for she cried, 'I am very glad of that.'"

  "My dear M. Remy, I will make your fortune. Well?"

  "That was all; I had no more to do; and the voice said, 'M.Remy----'"

  "She knew your name?"

  "Yes; 'M. Remy,' said she, 'be a man of honor to the last; do notcompromise a poor woman carried away by an excess of humanity.Take your bandage, and let them take you straight home.'"

  "You promised?"

  "I gave my word."

  "And you kept it?"

  "As you see, for I am seeking now."

  "You are an honest man, and here is my hand," cried Bussy.

  "Monsieur, it will be an eternal glory for me to have touchedthe hand of Bussy d'Amboise. However, I have a scruple. Therewere ten pistoles in the purse."

  "Well?"

  "It is too much for a man who charges five sous for his visits,when he does not give them gratis, and I was seeking the house----"

  "To return the purse?"

  "Just so."

  "My dear M. Remy, it is too much delicacy; you have earned themoney well, and may surely keep it."

  "You think so?" said Remy, well pleased.

  "But I also am in your debt; indeed, it was I who ought to havepaid you, and not the lady. Come, give me your confidence. Whatdo you do in Paris?"

  "What do I do? I do nothing; but I would if I had a connection."

  "Well, that is just right; I will give you a patient. Will youhave me? I am famous practise; for there is scarcely a day whenI do not deface God's noblest work for others, or they for me.Will you undertake the care of all the holes I make in the skinof others or others in mine?"

  "Ah, M. le Comte! this honor."

  "No; you are just the man I want. You shall come and live withme; you shall have your own rooms, and your own servants; accept,or you will really annoy me."

  "M. le Comte, I am so overjoyed, I cannot express it. I will work--Iwill make a connection----"

  "But, no, I tell you, I keep you for myself and my friends. Now,do you remember anything more?"

  "Nothing."

  "Ah, well! help me to find out, if it be possible."

  "I will."

  "And you, who are a man of observation, how do you account forit, that after being doctored by you, I found myself by the Temple,close to the ditch."

  "You!"

  "Yes, I. Did you help to take me there?"

  "Certainly not, and I should have opposed it if they had consultedme; for the cold might have done you much harm."

  "Then I can tell nothing. Will you search a little more with me?"

  "I will if you wish it; but I much fear it will be useless forall these houses are alike."

  "Well, we must come again by day."

  "Yes; but then we shall be seen."

  "Then we must inquire."

  "We will, monseigneur."

  "And we shall unravel the mystery. Be sure, Remy, now there aretwo of us to work."