THE AUTOPSY.
In a house opposite the Palais de Justice, two men were talking together
in an attic room. One of these men was seated, the other was standing.
The one who was seated, robust and vigorous, was anxiously questioning a
person, who answered slowly and coldly.
"Then Doctor, you are sure?"
"Have no uneasiness. I know what I am doing."
"You understand that it is for to-morrow, and nothing can be done during
the night. It means, in short, forty hours."
"When I accepted the terrible responsibility which you proposed to me, I
weighed every detail. And once more I bid you have entire confidence in
me and in science, and in the devotion of those who are brothers in a
common cause."
"Forgive me!" repeated the other. "Forgive my anxiety and apparent
distrust."
"I am at your disposal at all times and seasons; if the important moment
be advanced or retarded, be sure that I shall be in readiness."
The two men shook hands cordially, and the Doctor went out. The other
threw himself on a chair, and covering his face with his huge hands,
wept bitterly--wept like a child, did this poor Iron Jaws. Suddenly he
started up, and cried:
"This must succeed! This must succeed!"
He heard hurried steps coming up the stairs, and then a knock at the
door.
"Who is it?"
"Bobichel!"
It was indeed Bobichel, red and much out of breath.
"Well?" asked Gudel.
"Oh! she is an angel! she had been crying when I got there. She brought
me here in her carriage, and she wants to see you."
Gudel strode from the room. On the lower floor he found Irene waiting;
she was pale and dressed in black.
"Ah! sir," she said, anxiety sharpening her voice, "tell me what all
this means!"
"Fanfar is not dead."
The girl swayed to and fro. Gudel caught her, and went on.
"No, he is not dead. I thought you ought to know it."
"Where is he?"
"Ah! dear lady, he lies at this moment in a dark room, and looks as if
he could never again rise."
"Horrible!"
"Yes, in a way, but not so bad when you come to think about it, for
to-morrow Fanfar will be alive and free."
"Alive and free! Ah! I dare not hope. But tell me the whole."
"You remember that I sent you a note to give to Fanfar?"
"Yes--I have it still."
"Now, if you are not afraid of a little dampness, I will show you
something."
Irene looked at Gudel in amazement.
"Very good, but first about Fanfar?"
"I assure you, dear lady, that he is safe. Now, Bobichel, go; see and
hear all you can, and if you find out anything new, come to me at once."
"All right, master," and with a double somersault Bobichel vanished.
Gudel lighted a lantern, and then said to Irene that he was ready. They
went out into a corridor, and Gudel, taking a key from his pocket,
opened a small door which showed stone steps going down.
"Be careful," said Iron Jaws, "for the steps are very slippery."
He held the lantern high and guided her steps. It was like a gnome
guiding a fairy into some mine of wealth. But it was not toward any
treasure that Gudel conducted Irene. He opened another door after
pushing several bolts.
"Up with you!" he cried, "you have company!"
Notwithstanding all her courage, Irene started back.
"Have no fear, Mademoiselle," said Iron Jaws, "he is a ferocious beast,
but he is chained!"
Irene beheld a man fastened to the wall with an iron chain. At first she
did not recognize him.
"This individual," said Gudel, "is Cyprien, the man who does all the
dirty work of his excellency the Marquis de Fongereues, going so far as
to do a little poisoning on occasion."
"Undo my chain!" cried Cyprien.
"Not if I know it! But if you answer my questions, you shall have
something to eat."
"I am hungry!" murmured the rascal.
"Pshaw! one meal each day will certainly prevent your being miserable.
Now, why did you poison Fanfar?"
The fellow sighed.
"Tell me what interest you had in poisoning Fanfar."
"I don't know."
"That is a lie!"
"He can tell you nothing," whispered Irene, "let him go."
"No, Mademoiselle. This scoundrel bribed one of the jailers to give
Fanfar a drug that would have killed him in five minutes. Fortunately, I
was on the watch. I captured Cyprien and I brought him here. But I
confess I am greatly puzzled by one thing--it is that I can't make out
what the Marquis had against Fanfar, and this animal will not tell me."
"My friend," said Irene, "however guilty you may be, you are but the
instrument of others. Why, then, do you not try to make amends for your
errors by telling the truth?"
Cyprien hesitated, but he said again:
"I do not know."
"Then good-night, my dear fellow!" said Gudel. "Here is a loaf of bread
for you, rascal that you are!"
Irene hastened from the dungeon, and when they had again ascended the
stairs, Gudel said to her:
"These fellows are all alike, after all!"
"What are you trying to do?" asked Irene.
"It is simple enough. Instead of poison, Fanfar took a narcotic, and
lies as if dead. He will be buried, of course, but we will look out for
that, and he will be taken care of."
The shock to Irene was so great that she burst into passionate weeping.
Gudel was doing his best to soothe her, when suddenly the door was
thrown open and Bobichel rushed in, all pale and dishevelled.
"Oh! master," he cried, "all is lost! There is to be an autopsy. One of
the great physicians advises it."
Irene uttered a shriek of agony and dropped on her knees.
"Run!" she cried, "the truth must be made known at once. Oh! save him!"
Gudel tore his hair. Suddenly a thought struck him.
"Who is the physician?"
"Dr. Albant, from the Tuileries."
Iron Jaws reflected. He took Irene's hands in his.
"I am but a poor fellow, dear lady, only a strolling player, but I swear
to you that Fanfar shall be saved!"
Irene was comforted.