THE MAGIC TUB.
The abbe was a chameleon--bewildering in the abruptness of his
changes. The carriage that returned from Montbazon was a chariot of
triumph, and the abbe joined with vigour in the paeans of victory. He
wished to leave a good impression, that his absence might be
regretted. He was going on a tour of business and of pleasure; was
determined to enjoy himself immensely--he, who as a provincial had
rarely visited Paris. How delicious before he went, he declared with
rapture, to have his mind relieved, to be assured that the magic tub
was no fraud--Mesmer, a genius, not a charlatan! They must toast the
prophet in bumpers of champagne. He insisted on it, and accordingly
dragged the delighted Clovis from his study to join the circle at
dinner. Clovis was quite another man. A gladness was in his eyes that
transformed his glum visage, and Gabrielle sitting opposite wondered.
In this mood, sure if she spoke, he would hearken. Was the case really
hopeless? Was it, indeed, too late? Alack. It was evident that the
abbe was playing a part, for now and again he glanced at Gabrielle
with an expression that was full of meaning. The situation was
bewildering. Like one who dreams she sat listening to the victorious
duet, wherein the marquis and the governess took up their tale by
turns.
Under the sun of success Clovis opened like a flower. He was radiant
with content. His wife yearned to lead him from the room to her
secluded boudoir, and there, twining her arms about his neck, point
out the facets of the situation of which he seemed so singularly
ignorant. She would have fallen at his feet and clasped his knees;
have hugged him to her breast and warmed him with a spark of her own
fire. But then, that insidious talk of mademoiselle's under which her
memory tingled. The clammy affection of a fish! A man who required a
master. The venom instilled was inoculating her system. Pride laid a
finger on her lips.
Oh! What a scene it had been at Montbazon! To perform a successful
seance, Aglae explained, many accessories were _de rigueur_, since the
vital fluid could not work with effect unless the mind were brought
into a condition of fixed and unruffled calm. Now it is no easy matter
to bring about this state in one who is a prey to aches and pains. The
case is somewhat akin to that in the dentist's room when the patient
is informed on the honour of a gentleman that the twinge will be a
mere nothing, and that agitation is to be deprecated and calm
desirable. Then he suddenly finds an object as large as a coach-house
half down his throat, and the top of his head flies off. Unruffled
calm, indeed, with a twang of the sciatic nerve and a twitter down the
calf, and a great nail being hammered into the big toe! The crusty old
Baron de Vaux growled out that as he could not be calm they had better
remove their apparatus.
Calm being a _sine qua non_, Mesmer had pointed out long since that
music was a necessary feature in an operation while the patient was
being manipulated. He was in the habit of placing his devotees in a
delicious garden carpeted with grass, refreshed by play of fountains,
variegated by beds of perfumed flowers and clumps of bushes, from
amongst which came dulcet strains. In the intervals of crises a
complete orchestra hidden somewhere burst forth into harmonious
symphonies, at one time grave at another gay, quieting the patient
into beatitude due to gratification of his senses. Sight, smell,
hearing, all were considered. So minutely did the prophet delve into
the matter that he issued an order against wind instruments. The
symphonies were to be in D minor, interpreted by stringed instruments
only; and at critical moments their effect was increased by the
strains of an harmonica, touched by his own skilled fingers. Lest
nerves should be excited by all this instead of quieted, a silent
attendant stood behind each patient with a jug, from which, according
to his discretion, he dribbled cold water upon the pate below him.
This item was particularly soothing.
Now it was obvious that all these perfections were not easily to be
obtained in the provinces. The mind of Clovis had been much exercised
in the matter, and he dreaded failure for himself and obloquy for the
prophet. But Aglae was a treasure of resource. While her deft hands
were rubbing the count's withered leg, the marquis was in an outer
chamber to grumble _ad libitum_ on his beloved 'cello. The village
band was to await the crisis, and then break forth into the baron's
favourite air of Vive Henri Quatre. The effect was sure to be
splendid, for country magnates--even of the _grande noblesse_--were of
rougher grit than pampered city ones; and, in sober fact, the baron
did not know a bassoon from a violin.
But then there were unexpected difficulties, under which Clovis
unaided would have succumbed. The bucket was there, and the marquis
delivered a learned lecture on it to somewhat apprehensive lieges.
They would be kind enough to remark that at the bottom of the tub was
a substratum of rusty nails, covered with a layer of iron filings,
over which was laid a set of bottles with necks radiating outward.
Above them was another set of bottles with necks radiating inward.
This was most important, for radiation was one of the secrets of the
system. Cords of silk were attached all round with nooses, each for a
patient's neck, and by these cords the vital fluid was to circulate to
the patient and back again.
Madame de Vaux was much scandalized. "On no account will I allow a
rope around my husband's neck," she vowed emphatically. "The Baron de
Vaux treated like a common felon! Never, while she could prevent it!
Had not the low mob of the capital been stringing people to lamp-posts
with ropes of late? Why the king allowed it she could not think; but
he, no doubt, knew better than his subjects. The marquis ought to be
ashamed of himself for proposing anything so improper and suggestive."
Angelique considered the whole affair undignified, and was sorry that
the village band should assist at such a spectacle. The rope was
abandoned, and in its stead a long tube of glass was passed from the
side of the tub to the right temple of the patient--a much more
decorous proceeding where a live baron was concerned. Then the 'cello
began to drone and the governess to rub, and by and by the old man's
face began to twitch and his toothless gums to move. The baroness,
much shocked at this derogation from accustomed dignity, vowed that it
was impious, that the devil was at work, and that she ought to have
provided a curt and a brush with holy water. The patient began to
laugh, then cry; then shout, then mumble. All down his leg were
prickings--such curious prickings. "Oh, Mother of Heaven! The prods of
the arch-fiend," faintly gurgled the old lady. "Stuff and nonsense!
Angelic punctures!"
"All is going well!" announced the authoritative voice of Aglae.
"Band! Strike up--here is the crisis!" she shouted joyfully, but the
musicians stood aghast. Sure the poor gentleman had the dance of St.
Vitus as well as lesser ailments. A savour of brimstone pervaded the
apartment. Some swore, with shrieks, that they could see his Satanic
majesty--could count the hairs in his tail; and then all rushed forth
pell-mell like panic-stricken sheep. Madame de Vaux screamed and
fainted, while Angelique, who was no coward, retired into a corner.
Clovis had his misgivings, and as he scraped on, louder now to mask
the retreat of defaulters, wondered inwardly whether it was all a
devil's trick? He cast uneasy glances at the stooping Aglae, who
rubbed on unmoved. What a stupendous woman. Not a tremor at suggestion
of the Evil One. He felt sure that face to face with the whole Satanic
court that strong-minded female's colour would not have changed a
shade. It was not possible to feel fear in so sturdily self-reliant a
presence. Clovis's misgivings waned, and he groaned on at his
instrument with lightened heart. His ever-increasing admiration for
mademoiselle became tinctured with an awe in which respect was mingled
with apprehension. Who could resist such a woman whatever she might
decree? She had indeed twisted her admirer round her finger, and could
do with him as she listed.
The seance over, the baron was wrapped in blankets and exhorted to
sleep while the adept and her neophyte refreshed the inner person.
When they returned later to the operating room the old lady, recovered
from her swoon, was weeping silently, while Angelique stood by amazed.
The tears were those of relief and joy. The twang of the sciatic nerve
was stilled. The pain was gone. The baron, wringing the hand of
Mademoiselle Brunelle, vowed he was younger by ten years.
This was the tale told in duet, with the accompanying chorus of the
abbe. Amazing, marvellous, wonderful! Aglae beamed on all around like
the dimmed sun through golden mist. At every moment Clovis appealed to
her with the devoted submissiveness of willing slavery. His chains
were of roses, and he hugged them. Pharamond glanced slyly from time
to time at the two ladies, so contrasted in appearance and demeanour,
and then frowned at the chevalier, who was absorbed by attentions to
the bottle. It was inconvenient that the oaf should take to drink. Had
he not been charged with the important mission of watching over the
marquise? He had better take good care not to transgress. If aught
went wrong in the abbe's absence the chevalier should repent it
bitterly.
END OF VOLUME I.
* * * * *
SIMMONS & BOTTEN, PRINTERS, LONDON. _G. C. & Co_.