Mysteries of Paris Volume III Part 65

Thanks to repose, the salutary rules and comforts with which he was surrounded, the features of Morel were no longer pale, ghastly, and wrinkled by an unhealthy meagerness; his full face, slightly colored, announced the return of health; but a melancholy smile, a certain fixed expression, indicated that his reason was not yet completely re-established.

When the doctor entered, Morel, seated and bent over a table, imitated the exercise of his trade of a lapidary, saying, "Thirteen hundred francs--thirteen hundred francs, or Louise to the scaffold--thirteen hundred francs; let us work--work--work."

This aberration, of which the attacks were becoming less and less frequent, had always been the primordial symptom of his madness. The physician, at first vexed to find Morel at this moment under the influence of his monomania, soon hoped to make it serve his project; he took from his pocket a purse containing sixty-five golden louis, which he had placed there for the purpose, poured the gold into his hand, and said suddenly to Morel, who, profoundly absorbed by his ideal occupation, had not perceived the arrival of the doctor:

"My good Morel! you have worked enough; you have earned the thirteen hundred francs which you need to save Louise--here they are." And the doctor threw on the table his handful of gold.

"Louise saved!" cried the lapidary, clutching the gold eagerly. "I will run to the notary;" and, rising precipitately, he rushed to the door.

"Come!" cried the doctor, with a lively anxiety, for the instantaneous cure of the lapidary might depend upon this first impression.

Hardly had he said "Come," than Louise appeared at the door, at the moment that her father reached it. Morel, stupefied, recoiled two steps, and dropped the gold which he had held. For some moments, he looked at Louise with profound amazement, not yet recognizing her. He seemed, however, to be endeavoring to collect his thoughts; then, approaching her by degrees, he looked at her with an uneasy and timid curiosity. Louise, trembling with emotion, with difficulty restrained her tears, while the doctor, recommending her, by a sign, to remain silent, watched attentively the smallest movements of the lapidary's countenance. He, leaning toward his daughter, began to turn pale; he pa.s.sed both his hands over his forehead, covered with sweat; then, taking a step toward her, he wished to speak, but his voice died upon his lips, his paleness increased, and he looked around him with surprise, as if he were just awaking from a dream.

"Well, well," whispered the doctor to Louise, "it is a good sign; when I say 'Come,' throw yourself into his arms, calling him father."

The lapidary placed his hands on his chest, looking at himself (if we may so express it) from head to foot, as if to convince himself of his ident.i.ty. His features expressed a sad uncertainty: instead of fixing his eyes on his daughter, he seemed as if he wished to hide himself from her sight. Then he said, in a low and broken voice, "No! no! a dream--where am I? impossible--a dream--it is not she." Then, seeing the gold scattered on the floor, "And this gold--I do not remember--am I awake? My head turns--I dare not look--I am ashamed: it is not Louise."

"Come!" said the doctor, in a loud voice. "Father, recognize me! I am Louise, your daughter!" cried she, bursting into tears, and throwing herself into his arms; at the same moment, Madame Morel, Rigolette, Madame George, Germain, and the Pipelets entered the apartment.

"Oh! heavens!" said Morel, whom Louise loaded with caresses, "where am I?

what do they want with me? what has taken place? I cannot believe." Then, after a pause, he took suddenly the head of Louise between his two hands, looked at her fixedly, and cried, after some moments of increasing emotion, "Louise!"

"He is saved," said the doctor.

"My husband! my poor Morel!" cried the wife of the lapidary, running to join Louise.

"My wife!" said Morel; "my wife and child!"

"And I also, M. Morel," said Rigolette; "all your friends are collected around you."

"All your friends! do you see, M. Morel?" added Germain.

"Miss Rigolette! M. Germain!" said the lapidary, recognizing each personage with new astonishment.

"And your old friends of the lodge, too!" said Anastasia, approaching in her turn, with Alfred; "here are the Pipelets--the old Pipelets--friends till death! Daddy Morel, here is a great day."

"M. Pipelet and his wife! so many people around me! it seems to me so long since! And, but, it is Louise, is it not?" cried he with emotion, pressing his daughter to his heart. "It is you, Louise? very sure?"

"My poor father, yes; it is I; it is my mother: here are all your friends--you shall leave us no more--we shall be happy now--very happy."

"Very happy. But wait until I recollect--all happy; it seems to me, however, that they came to conduct you to prison, Louise."

"Yes, my father; but I have been acquitted--you see it--I am here--near to you."

"Wait still--wait--my memory returns." Then he said, with affright, "And the notary?"

"Dead."

"Dead--he! then I believe you; we can be happy; but where am I? how am I here? for how long a time, and why? I do not exactly recollect."

"You have been so sick, sir," said the doctor, "that you have been brought here, into the country; you have had a fever--very violent--delirium."

"Yes, yes I recollect; the last thing--before my illness--I was talking to my daughter, and who--who then? Oh! a very generous man, M. Rudolph, prevented my arrest. Since then I recollect nothing."

"Your disease was attended by a loss of memory," said the doctor. "The sight of your daughter, of your wife, of your friends, has restored it to you."

"And at whose house am I, then?"

"At a friend of M. Rudolph's," Germain hastened to say: "the change of air, it was thought, would be useful to you."

"Very well," whispered the doctor; and, addressing the superintendent, added, "Order the cab round to the garden door, so that he shall not be obliged to pa.s.s through the courts to go out at the main entrance."

Thus, as often happens in cases of madness, Morel had no recollection or consciousness of the alienation of mind with which he had been attacked.

What remains to be told? Some moments afterward, leaning on his wife and daughter, and accompanied by a medical student, who, as a matter of precaution, was to accompany them to Paris, Morel got into the carriage, and left Bicetre, without suspecting that he had been confined there as a lunatic.

"You think this man is completely cured?" said Madame George to the doctor, who was conducting her to the princ.i.p.al entrance of Bicetre.

"I think so, madame, and I have expressly left him under the happy influence of this family meeting. I should have feared to separate them. I shall go and see him every day until his cure is perfectly established; for, not only does he interest me very much, but he was particularly recommended to me, on his first entrance here, by the charge d'affaires of the Grand Duchy of Gerolstein."

Germain and his mother exchanged glances.

"I thank you, sir," said Madame George, "for the kindness with which you have allowed me to visit this fine establishment; and I congratulate myself at having witnessed a touching scene, which your knowledge and skill had foreseen and predicted."

"And I, madame, doubly congratulate myself upon the success which has restored so excellent a man to the arms of his family."

Some moments afterward, Madame George, Rigolette and Germain had left Bicetre, as well as the Pipelets.

Just as Dr. Herbin returned to the courts, he met one of the superior officers of the house, who said to him, "Ah! my dear M. Herbin, you cannot imagine what a scene I have just witnessed. For an observer like you it would have been an inexhaustible source of--"

"How then? What scene?"

"You know that we have here two women who are condemned to death--the mother and daughter--who are to be executed to-morrow?"

"Doubtless."

"Never in my life have I seen hardihood and unconcern like this mother's: she is an infernal woman."

"Is it not Widow Martial, who showed so much unblus.h.i.+ng a.s.surance at her trial?"

"The same."

"And what has she done more?"

"She demanded to be confined in the same cell with her daughter until the moment of her execution. They have granted her request. Her daughter, much less hardened than she is, appears to be softened as the fatal moment approaches, while the diabolical a.s.surance of the widow augments still more, if such a thing were possible. Just now the venerable chaplain of the prison entered their cell to offer them the consolations of religion. The daughter was about to accept them, when her mother, without losing for a moment her usual coolness, attacked both her and the almoner with such frightful remarks that the venerable priest was obliged to leave the dungeon, after having in vain endeavored to address some holy words to this unmanageable woman."

"Upon the eve of mounting the scaffold! Such hardihood is truly infernal,"

said the doctor.