CHAPTER XXII.
SET UPON DYING.
Thus stood matters, when Dr. Gilbert's "officiator"--the word servantwas abolished as non-republican--announced at nine in the evening thathis carriage was at the door.
He donned his hat, buttoned up his outer coat, and was going out, whenhe saw the door-way blocked by a man in a cloak and a slouch hat.Gilbert recoiled a step, for all was hostile that came in the dark atsuch a period.
"It is I, Gilbert," said a kindly voice.
"Cagliostro!" exclaimed the doctor.
"Good; there you are forgetting again that I am no longer under thatname, but bear that of Baron Zannone. At the same time, Gilbert, foryou I am changed in neither name nor heart, and am ever your JosephBalsamo, I hope."
"Yes; and the proof is that I was going to find you."
"I suspected as much, and that is what has brought me," said themagician. "For you can imagine that in such times I do not go into thecountry, as Robespierre is doing."
"That is why I feared that I should not find you at home, and I amhappy to meet you. But come in, I beg."
"Well, here I am. Say your wish," said Cagliostro, following the masterinto the most retired room.
"Do you know what is going on?" asked the host, as soon as both wereseated.
"You mean what is going to happen; for at present nothing is doing,"observed the other.
"No, you are right; but something dreadful is brewing, eh?"
"Dreadful, in sooth; but such is sometimes needful."
"Master, you make me shudder," said Gilbert, "when you utter suchsayings with your inexorable coolness."
"I can not help it. I am but the echo of fate."
Gilbert hung his head.
"Do you recall what I told you when I warned you of the fate of MarquisFavras?"
The physician started; strong in facing most men, he felt weak as achild before this mysterious character.
"I told you," went on the enigma, "that if the king had a grain ofcommon sense, which I hoped he had not, he would exercise the wish forself-preservation to flee."
"He did so."
"Yes; but I meant while it was in good time; it was, you know, too latewhen he went. I added, you may remember, that if he and the queen andthe nobles remained, I would bring on the Revolution."
"You are right again, for the Revolution rules," said Gilbert, with asigh.
"Not completely, but it is getting on. Do you further recall thatI showed you an instrument invented by a friend of mine, DoctorGuillotin? Well, that beheading machine, which I exhibited in adrinking-glass to the future queen at Taverney Manor, you willremember, though you were but a boy at the time--no higher thanthat--yet already courting Nicole--the same Nicole whose husband,Beausire, by the way, is being hung at the present speaking--not beforehe deserved it! Well, that machine is hard at work."
"Too slowly, since swords and pikes have to be supplementing itsblade," said Gilbert.
"Listen," said Cagliostro; "you must grant that we have a mostblock-headed crew to deal with. We gave the aristocrats, the court, andthe monarchs all sorts of warnings without their profiting or beingadvised by them. We took the Bastile, their persons from Versailles,their palace in Paris; we shut up their king in the temple, and thearistocrats in the other prisons; and all serves for no end. The king,under lock and bolt, rejoices at the Prussians taking his towns, andthe lords in the abbey cheer the Germans. They drink wine under thenoses of poor people who can not get wholesome water, and eat trufflepies before beggars who can not get bread. On King Wilhelm of Prussiabeing notified that if he passes Longwy into French territory, asit will be the warrant for the king's death, he replies: 'Howeverimbittered may be the fate of the royal family, our armies must notretrograde. I hope with all my heart to arrive in time to save the Kingof France, but my duty before all is to save Europe.' And he marchesforward to Verdun. It is fairly time to end this nonsense."
"End with whom?" cried Gilbert.
"With the king, the queen, and their following."
"Would you murder a king and a queen?"
"Oh, no; that would be a bad blunder. They must be publicly tried,condemned, and executed, as we have the example set by the execution ofCharles I. But, one way or another, doctor, we must get rid of them,and the sooner the better."
"Who has decided this?" protested Gilbert. "Let me hear. Is it theintelligence, the honor, and the conscience of the people of whom youspeak? When genius, loyalty, and justice were represented by Mirabeau,Lafayette, and Vergniaud, if you had said 'Louis must die,' in thename of those three I should still have shuddered, but I should doubt.In whose name do you pronounce now? Hissed actors, paltry editors,hot-heads like Marat, who have to be bled to cool them when they shriekfor thousands of heads. Leave these failures who think they are wondersbecause they can undo in a stroke the work which it has taken nature afew score years, for they are villains, master, and you ought not toassociate with such burlesques of men."
"My dear Gilbert, you are mistaken again," said the prime mover; "theyare not villains; you misuse the word. They are mere instruments."
"Of destruction."
"Ay; but for the benefit of an idea. The enfranchisement of the people,Gilbert; liberty, the Republic--not merely French--God forbid me havingso selfish an idea! but universal, the federation of the free world.No, these men have not genius, or honor, or conscience, but somethingstronger, more inexorable, less resistible--they have instinct."
"Like Attila's."
"You have hit it. Of Attila, who called himself the Scourge of God, andcame with the barbaric blood of the north to redeem Roman civilization,corrupted by the feasting, debauched emperors."
"But, in brief, to sum up instead of generalizing, whither will tend amassacre?" asked Gilbert.
"To a plain issue. We will compromise the Assembly and Commune and thepeople of Paris. We must soak Paris in blood; for you understand thatParis is the brain of France, or of Europe, so that Paris, feeling thatthere is no forgiveness possible for her, will rise like one man, urgeFrance before her, and hurl the enemy off the sacred soil."
"But you are not a Frenchman; what odds is it to you?" asked Gilbert.
"You were not an American, but you were glad to have the rebel PaulJones take you to America and aid the rebels to free the Colonies fromthe British yoke. How can a man of superior mettle and intelligencesay to another: 'Do not meddle with us, for you are not French?' Arenot the affairs of France those of the world? Is France working solelyfor herself now, think you? Hark you, Gilbert; I have debated allthese points with a mind far stronger than yours--the man or devilnamed Althotas; and one day he made a calculation of the quantity ofblood which must be shed before the sun rises on the free world. Hisreasonings did not shake my conviction. I marched on, I march on, andon I shall march, overturning all that stands in my path, and saying tomyself, in a calm voice, as I look around with a serene look: Woe tothe obstacle, for this is the future which is coming! Now you have thepardon of some one to ask? I grant it beforehand. Tell me the name ofthe man or the woman?"
"I wish to save a woman whom neither of us, master, can allow to die."
"The Countess of Charny?"
"The mother of Sebastian Gilbert."
"You know that it is Danton who, as Minister of Justice, has the prisonkeys."
"Yes; but I also know that the chief of the Invisibles can say toDanton, 'Open or shut that door.'"
Cagliostro rose, and going over to a writing-desk, wrote a cabalisticsign on a small square of paper. Presenting this to Gilbert, he said:
"Go and find Danton, and ask him anything you like." Gilbert rose.
"What are you going to do when the king's turn comes?"
"I intend to be elected to the convention, so as to vote with all mypower against his death."
"Be it so; I can understand that," said the leader. "Act as yourconscience dictates, but promise me one thing."
"What is it?"
"There was a time when you would h
ave promised without a condition,Gilbert."
"At that time you would not have told me that a nation could healitself by murdering, or a people gain by massacre."
"Have it your own way. Only promise me that, when the king shall beexecuted, you will follow the advice I give you."
"Any advice from the master will be precious," he said, holding out hishand.
"And will be followed?" persisted Cagliostro.
"I swear, if not hurtful to my conscience."
"Gilbert, you are unjust. I have offered you much; have I ever requiredaught of you?"
"No, master," was Gilbert's reply; "and now, furthermore, you give me alife dearer than mine own."
"Go," said the arch-revolutionist, "and may the genius of France, oneof whose noblest sons you are, ever guide you."
The count went out, and Gilbert followed him, stepping into thecarriage still waiting, to be driven to the Minister of Justice.
Danton was waiting for one of two things: if he turned to the Commune,he and Marat and Robespierre would rule, and he wanted neither of them.Unfortunately, the Assembly would not have him, and its support to rulealone was the other alternative.
When Gilbert came, he had been wrestling with his wife, who guessedthat the massacre was determined upon. He had told her that she talkedlike a woman in asking him to die rather than let the red tide flow on.
"You say that you will die of the stain, and that my sons will blushfor me. No; they will be men some day, and if true Dantons, they willcarry their heads high; if weak, let them deny me. If I let themcommence the massacre by me, for opposing it, do you know what willbecome of the revolution between that blood-thirsty maniac, Marat, andthat sham utopist, Robespierre? I will stay the bloodshed if I can, andif not, I will take all the guilt on my shoulders. The burden will notprevent me marching to my goal, only I shall be the more terrible."
Gilbert entered.
"Come, Doctor Gilbert, I have a word for you."
Opening a little study door, he led the visitor into it.
"How can I be useful to you?" he asked.
Gilbert took out the paper the Invisible had given him and presented itto Danton.
"Ha! you come on _his_ account, do you? What do you desire?"
"The liberation of a woman prisoned in the abbey."
"The name?"
"The Countess of Charny."
Danton took a sheet of paper and wrote the release.
"There it is," he said; "are there others you would wish to save?Speak; I should like to save some of the unfortunates."
"I have all my desire," said Gilbert, bowing.
"Go, doctor," said the minister; "and when you need anything of me,apply direct. I am happy to do anything for you, man to man. Ah,"he muttered at the door, in showing him out, "if I had only yourreputation, doctor, as an honorable man!"
Bearer of the precious paper which assured Andrea's life, the fatherof her son hastened to the abbey. Though nearly midnight, threateninggroups still hung round the door. Gilbert passed through the midst ofthem and knocked at it. The gloomy panel in the low arched way wasopened. Gilbert shuddered as he went through--it was to be the way tothe tomb.
The order, presented to the warden, stated that instant release was tobe given to the person whom Dr. Gilbert should point out. He named theCountess of Charny, and the governor ordered a turnkey to lead Gilbertto the prisoner's cell.
The doctor followed the man up three flights of a spiral staircase,where he entered a cell lighted by a lamp.
Pale as marble, in mourning, a woman sat at a table bearing the lamp,reading a shagreen prayer-book adorned with a silver cross. A brandof fire burned in the fire-place. In spite of the sound of the dooropening, she did not lift her eyes; the steps approaching did not moveher; she appeared absorbed in her book, but it was absence of mind,for Gilbert stood several minutes without her turning a leaf.
The warder had closed the door, with himself on the outer side.
"My lady the countess," ventured Gilbert, after awhile.
Raising her eyes, Andrea looked without perceiving at first; the veilof her mind was between her and the speaker, but it was graduallywithdrawn.
"Ah, and is it you, Doctor Gilbert--what do you want?" she inquired.
"Madame, very ugly rumors are afloat about what is going to happen inthe prisons."
"Yes; it is said that the prisoners are to be slaughtered," rejoinedAndrea; "but you know, Doctor Gilbert, that I am ready to die."
"I come to take you away madame," he continued, bowing.
"Whither would you take me, doctor?" she asked, in surprise.
"Wherever you like, madame; you are free."
He showed her the release order signed by Danton, which she read; butinstead of returning it, she kept it in her hand.
"I might have suspected this," she observed, trying to smile, but shehad forgotten the way. "You were sure to try to prevent me dying."
"Madame, there is but one existence which would be dearer to me than myparents', had I ever known my parents--it is yours."
"Yes; and that is why you broke your promise to me."
"I did not, madame, for I sent you the poison."
"By my son?"
"I did not tell you by what hand I should send it."
"In short, you have thought of me, Gilbert. So you entered the lion'sden for my sake, and came forthwith the talisman which unseals doors?"
"I told you, madame, that as long as I lived you should not die."
"Nay, Doctor Gilbert, I believe that this time I hold death by thehand," said Andrea, with something more like a smile than her previousattempt.
"Madame, I declare to you that I will stay you from dying, even thoughI have to employ force."
Without replying, Andrea tore the order into pieces and tossed theminto the fire.
"Try it," she said.
Gilbert uttered an outcry.
"Doctor Gilbert," said she, "I have given up the idea of suicide, butnot of dying. I long for death."
Gilbert let a groan escape him.
"All that I ask of you is that you will save my body from outrage afterdeath--it has not escaped it in life. Count Charny rests in the familyvault at Boursonnes. There I spent the happiest days of my life, and Iwish to repose by him."
"Oh, in Heaven's name, I implore you--"
"And I implore you in the name of my sorrow--"
"It is well, lady; you were right in saying that I am bound to obey youin all points. I go, but I am not vanquished."
"Do not forget my last wish."
"If I do not save you in spite of yourself, it shall be accomplished,"replied Gilbert.
Saluting her for the last time, he went forth, and the door banged towith that lugubrious sound peculiar to prison doors.