The Mesmerist's Victim

“Gilbert?”

“He stands to listen – he goes into the other room but returns frightened. He enters Nicole’s closet – Horror!”

“What?”

“Another man comes in, and I cannot defend myself – not even scream, for I am locked in sleep.”

“Who is this man?”

“Brother,” she answered in the deepest distress, “it is the King!”

Philip shuddered.

“Just as I thought,” muttered Balsamo.

“He approaches me,” continued the medium, “he speaks, he takes me in his arms, he kisses me. Oh, brother!”

Tears rolled down the young captain’s cheeks while he grasped the sword handle which Balsamo had given him.

“Go on,” said the count in a more imperative tone than before.

“What a blessing! he is perplexed, he stops, he looks at me in terror – he flees – Andrea is saved!”

“Saved,” repeated Philip, who was breathlessly listening to her every word.

“Stay! I had forgotten the other, who lurks in the closet, with the bared knife in his hand – pale as death.”

“Gilbert?”

“Gilbert follows the King,” continued Andrea: “he shuts the door behind him, he puts his foot on the candle dropped on the carpet; he advances towards me – Oh!”

Rising on her brother’s arm, her muscles stiffened as though about to snap.

“The villain!” she got out at last, and fell without strength. “It was he!” Then rising so as to reach her brother’s ear, she hissed into it while her eyes glittered: “You will kill him, Philip?”

“Oh, yes,” said the young man.

As he leaped up he overturned a stand of china and the porcelain was shivered to pieces.

The crash was blended with the bang of a door, over which rang Andrea’s shriek.

“We were overheard,” said Philip.

“It is he,” said Andrea.

“Gilbert everywhere? Yes, I will kill him,” and he darted into the anteroom while Andrea fell on the sofa.

But Balsamo ran after him and caught him by the arm.

“Take care, sir,” he said: “the secret will become public; it will come out and the echo in royal residences is noisy.”

“To think it is Gilbert and that he was close to us, listening,” said Philip: “I might have killed the wretch – woe to him!”

“Yes: but silence: you will find him yet. But you must think of your sister. You see how fatigued she is with all this emotion.”

“Yes: I understand what she must suffer by my own feelings; the misfortune is so great and so difficult to repair. I shall die of the shame.”

“No, you will live for her sake. She has need of you, love her, pity her and preserve her! But you have no more want of me?” he asked after a pause.

“No: overlook my suspicions and my insults: although the evil happened through you.”

“I do not excuse myself: but remember what your sister said: that she would have drunk the sleeping draft but for my calling her away. In that case the guilt would have fallen on the King. Would you have considered the fate worse?”

“No, the same crime: I see that we were doomed. Awaken my poor sister, my lord.”

“Not for her to see me and perhaps guess what occurred. Better to do it when at a distance, as I sent her to sleep.”

“One word still, count, as you are a man of honor – ”

“You need not recommend secrecy to me, being what you say: and because having no farther points of community with mankind, I shall forget it and its secrets; but rely on me, knight, if I can in any way be useful. But no, I can be of use to nobody for I am worth nothing on this earth. Farewell, sir, farewell!”

Bowing, he glanced at Andrea, whose head dropped forward with all the tokens of pain and lassitude.

“O Science,” he sighed, “how many victims for a valueless result!”

As he disappeared, Andrea reanimated: she raised her heavy head as though it were made of lead and looking with astounded eyes at her brother, she muttered:

“Oh, Philip, what has passed?”

“Nothing,” he answered, repressing a sob.

“Nothing? and yet I dreamed – I thought that Dr. Louis said – ”

“Nothing: you are pure as the daylight: but all accuses you and looks black against you. A terrible secret is imposed on us both. I am going to see Dr. Louis who will tell the Dauphiness that you are home-sick, and we must get you down to Taverney to save you. Father will not go with us, and I will prepare him. Courage – heaven is the goal for all. Make out that you ought never to have left home – that is what made you ill. Be strong, for our honor – the honor of both of us – depends on this.”

He embraced his sister, picked up the sword which had fallen, sheathed it with a trembling hand and darted down the stairs.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

FATHER AND SON

THE knight of Redcastle knew he should find his father at their Paris Lodgings. Since his rupture with Richelieu, he found life insupportable at Versailles and he tried to conquer torpor by agitation, and by change of residence.

With frightful spells of swearing, he was pacing the little garden when he saw his son appear. In his expectation he snapped at any branch. He greeted him with a mixture of spite and curiosity; but when he saw his moody face, paleness, rigid lines of feature, and set of the mouth, it froze the flow of questions he was about to let go.

“You? by what hazard?”

“I am bringing bad news,” returned the captain gravely.