Read The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume II Page 24


  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE AUTOPSY

  In a House opposite the court-house, which stood at the corner of astreet which has long since disappeared, were two men who were earnestlyconversing.

  "Doctor," said one of them, "you guarantee a success?"

  "Have no fear; I have often made such experiments, and always withsuccess. I haven't grown gray in the service of science for nothing. Iknow what I am speaking about."

  "But the long time," said the other anxiously. "You know we can operateonly at night, and forty hours are sometimes an eternity."

  "Before I entered upon the plan I weighed everything carefully," saidthe physician earnestly, "otherwise I should not have taken theresponsibility. Have confidence in me; what my knowledge and care can dowill be done to bring everything to a good end."

  The other man shook the physician's hand heartily.

  "Thank you, faithful friend," he cordially said. "I wish I could stopthe uneasy beating of my heart, but I suppose it is only natural that Iam anxious."

  "That's it exactly," replied the doctor; "and to quiet you I will stayhere from now on until the decisive hour. Good-by, I must go. You knowwhere I am to be found."

  The doctor went, while the other man struck his face with his hands andsoftly murmured:

  "God grant that he be right. I would rather die a thousand deaths thanlose the dear boy in this way."

  Hot tears ran over the man's brown cheeks, and his broad breast rose andfell, torn by convulsive sobs.

  "Shame yourself, Firejaws!" he murmured, "if any one saw you now! Let ushope everything will be all right, and then--"

  A loud knock at the door interrupted Girdel's self-conversation, andupon a hasty "Come in," Bobichel entered the room.

  "Well, Bobi, how goes it?" asked the athlete.

  "She is downstairs," said the clown, with a significant gesture.

  Without asking another question, Girdel hurried out, while Bobichellooked observantly around the room, and soon found a well-filled bottleof wine and a glass; he filled the glass and emptied it with oneswallow.

  In the meantime Girdel had met Irene de Salves in the corridor of thehouse.

  The young lady wore a black dress, and when she saw the athlete she ranto meet him and sobbingly cried:

  "He's not dead, is he?"

  "No, he is not dead," confirmed Girdel; and seeing Irene's pale face, hesaid, more to himself: "I knew how the news would work, and yet it couldnot be helped--as God pleases, it will all be right again."

  "But where is he?" asked Irene anxiously.

  "Countess," began the athlete, somewhat embarrassed, "at present he is acorpse on a bier and whoever sees him thinks he is dead; but to-morrowat this time he will be well and at liberty."

  "Ah, if I could only believe it--"

  "You can do so," cried Girdel, hastily; "if I had not thought you weremore courageous than women in general, I would have kept silent; but Ithought to myself you were in despair, and I therefore concluded tospeak."

  "A thousand thanks for your confidence, but tell me everything that hashappened--I can hardly understand the whole thing."

  "I believe you. If you were to accompany me to the cellar now you wouldsee one of the chief actors in the drama. Downstairs in a cage lies awild beast which we have captured. I just want to call Bobichel and givehim a message, then I will accompany you downstairs."

  A low whistle from the athlete brought the clown directly to him, andGirdel ordered him to slip into the court-house and watch what occurredthere. He then accompanied Irene into the damp cellar. Lighting a pocketlantern and holding it aloft, he said:

  "Follow me, countess; we will soon be there."

  The countess followed her guide without hesitation; she had perfectconfidence in Girdel, and after a short journey they both stood in frontof a heavy iron door.

  "Here we are," said the athlete, triumphantly; and taking an iron barwhich stood in a corner in his hand, he cried in stentorian tones:

  "Get up, scoundrel, let us look at you!"

  Low moans answered the gruff command, and Irene uttered a cry ofterror, for in the cell a human form moved.

  "Step nearer, mademoiselle," said Girdel, putting on the manners of acircus proprietor; "the wild beast is pretty tame now--we have taken outits teeth and chained it."

  "But I do not understand--" stammered Irene.

  "Who this beast is? You shall know it at once; the magnificent personageis Simon, the factotum of the Marquis Fougereuse. In his leisure hoursthe miserable wretch occupies himself with poisoning experiments, and itwould not be a loss to humanity if he should never see daylight again.Come, boy, play your tricks; the performance begins."

  "Mercy," whispered Simon, for he was really the prisoner, "let me free."

  "Really? Perhaps later on, but now you must obey. Quick, tell us whatbrought you here."

  "I am hungry," growled Simon.

  "Really? Well, if you answer my questions probably you shall have foodand drink. Why did you want to poison Fanfaro?"

  "I do not know," stammered the steward.

  "How bad your memory is. What interest did your master, the Marquis ofFougereuse, have in Fanfaro's death?"

  Simon was silent. Girdel nudged him gently in the ribs with the ironbar, and turning to Irene, said:

  "Would you believe, mademoiselle, that this fellow was very talkative afew days ago when he tried to bribe Fanfaro's jailer. Growl away, it istrue, anyway! You promised fabulous sums to the jailer if he would mixa small white powder in Fanfaro's food. Fortunately I have eyes and earseverywhere, so I immediately took my measures. With Bobichel'sassistance I captured this monster here, and then I went to the bribedjailer and gave him, in the name of his employer, the white powder. Hetook it without any objection. That I had changed the powder in themeantime for another he was unaware of. If I only knew," he concludedwith a frown, "what object this marquis has to injure Fanfaro. Thisbeast won't talk, and--"

  "Let me speak to him," said the countess, softly. And turning to thegrating, she urged Simon to confess his master's motives and therebyfree himself. At first Simon looked uneasily at the young girl; he madean attempt to speak, but reconsidered it and closed his lips.

  "Let us leave him alone, mademoiselle," said Girdel; "solitude will dohim good."

  When Simon saw that Girdel and Irene were about to depart, he groanedloudly, but the athlete ordered him to keep still if he did not wish tobe gagged, and this warning had the desired effect.

  When Girdel and Irene reached the room, the latter sank, sobbing, upon achair, and "the brave athlete" tried his best to console her.

  "It will be all right," he assured her; "Fanfaro has swallowed a strongnarcotic which makes him appear as if dead. To-morrow he will be buried;we shall dig him up again, and then bring him away as soon as possible."

  At this moment Bobichel breathlessly rushed into the room, and Ireneuttered a cry of terror when she saw his pale face.

  "What has happened?" she cried, filled with gloomy forebodings.

  "O God--he is lost!" stammered the clown.

  "Who is lost?"

  "Fanfaro."

  "Speak clearly," cried Girdel, beside himself.

  "They have brought--Fanfaro--to the--Hotel Dieu," said Bobichel,sobbing.

  "Well, that isn't such a misfortune," said the athlete, breathing morefreely. "You need not have frightened us."

  "But the worst is to come--they want to hold an autopsy over him to findout the cause of death."

  "Merciful God! that must not be," cried Irene, wringing her hands. "Wemust run to the hospital and tell all."

  "Who is the physician that is going to undertake the autopsy?" askedGirdel.

  "Doctor Albaret, as I was informed."

  "Then rely on me, countess," cried the athlete, rushing away; "either Irescue Fanfaro or else I die with him."