CHAPTER XXXIII.

COUNT AND CARDINAL.

What took place under the princess-abbess' sight was so extraordinary

that her mind, strong and yet tender, questioned if she did not face

a true magician who disposed of sentiments and wills as he liked. But

Count Fenix was not going to leave things thus.

"As your royal highness has heard only part of the story from my wife's

lips, doubts might linger if the rest was not spoken by them. Dear

Lorenza," he said, turning again to the Italian, "after leaving your

country we went on a tour to the Alps and to the Rhine, the magnificent

Tiber of the North----"

"Yes, Lorenza has seen these sights," said the woman.

"Lured by this man--led by a power resistless of which you spoke, my

child?" suggested the princess.

"Why should your highness believe this when all you hear is to the

contrary? I have a palpable proof in the letter my wife wrote me when I

was obliged to leave her at Maintz. She sorrowed and longed for me, so

that she wrote this note, which your highness may read."

She looked at the letter which the count took out of the letter case.

"Return, Acharat; for all goes when you leave me. When shall I

have you for eternity?

LORENZA."

With the flame of choler on her brow the princess went up to the

fugitive, holding out this letter. The other allowed her to approach,

without seeming to see or hear any but the count. "I understand," said

the latter, decided to clear up matters completely. "Your highness

doubts, and wishes to be sure the writing is Lorenza's. She herself

shall enlighten you. Lorenza, answer; who wrote this note?"

On his putting the paper in her hand, she pressed it to her heart.

"It was Lorenza," she said.

"Lorenza knows what is in it?"

"Of course."

"Well, then, tell the princess what it says, that she may not believe

that I deceive her in asserting that you love me. I want you to tell

her."

Appearing to make an effort, but without looking at the note, unfolding

it or bringing it to her eyes, she read, word for word, what the

princess had seen without speaking it aloud.

"This is hard to believe," said the superior. "And I do not believe

you, from what is supernatural and inexplicable in what happens."

"It was this very letter which determined me to hurry on our wedding,"

said Count Fenix, without heeding the interruption. "I love Lorenza as

much as she loves me. In our roaming life, accidents might happen. If I

died, I wanted my property to be my dear one's; so we were united when

we reached Strasburg."

"But she told me that she was not your wife."

"Lorenza," said the count, without replying to the abbess, and turning

to the Italian, "do you remember where and when we were married?"

"Yes; in the St. John's Chapel of Strasburg Cathedral, on the third of

May."

"Did you oppose any resistance to the marriage?"

"No; I was only too happy."

"The fact is, Lorenza," continued the count, taking her hand, "the

princess thinks you were constrained to it."

"I hate you?" she said, shivering all over with delight. "Oh, no; I

love you. You are good, generous and mighty."

Seized with affright, the princess recoiled to where an ivory crucifix

gleamed on a black velvet background.

"Is this all your highness wishes to know?" asked Fenix, letting

Lorenza's hand fall.

"Keep away!" gasped the abbess; "and she, too!"

A carriage was heard to stop before the nunnery door.

"The cardinal?" exclaimed the lady superior; "we shall see how things

stand at last."

Fenix bowed, said a few words to the Italian woman, and waited with the

calmness of one who directs events.

In another instant the door opened and Cardinal Rohan was announced.

"Show him in," said the abbess, encouraged by the new addition to the

party being a churchman.

The prince had no sooner saluted the princess than he exclaimed with

surprise on seeing Balsamo:

"Are you here, my lord?"

"Are you acquaintances?" cried the princess, more and more astonished.

"Then you can tell me who this is."

"Nothing is easier; the gentleman is a magician."

"His eminence will make this clear presently, and to everybody's

satisfaction," said the count.

"Has the gentleman been telling your highness' fortune, that I see you

so affected?" questioned the cardinal.

"The marriage certificate at once!" cried the princess, to the

astonishment of the newcomer, ignorant of the allusion.

"What is this?"

"My lord, the question is, whether this paper is real and the

signature valid?" said the princess, as Balsamo held out the document.

Rohan read the paper as presented by the abbess and nodded.

"It is in proper form, and the signature is Curate Saint-Remy's, of St.

John's, Strasburg, one of my appointees. But what does this matter to

your highness?"

"Considerable; but----"

"The signature might have been extorted."

"True, that is possible," said the princess.

"How about Lorenza's consent, then?" said the count, sarcastically.

"By what means could a priest have been induced----"

"By the magic in the gentleman's powers."

"Your eminence is jesting."

"Not at all, and the proof is that I want to have a serious explanation

from this gentleman. Do not forget, my lord, that I shall do all the

questioning," added the cardinal, with haughtiness.

"And remember that I was quite willing to answer aloud, even before her

royal highness--if your eminence desired so; but I am certain you will

not desire it."

The cardinal had to smile.

"My lord," said he, "it is hard to play the wizard nowadays. I have

seen you perform, and with great success; but everybody has not the

patience, and still less the generosity, of the dauphiness."

"The dauphiness?" queried Princess Louise.

"Yes, your highness, I had the honor of presentation to her," said the

count.

"But how did you repay the honor? Answer that, my lord."

"Alas, with more evil than I liked," said Fenix, "for I have no

personal hate to men, and less to women. My misfortune was that I was

compelled to tell your august niece the truth she craved."

"A piece of truthfulness which caused her to faint."

"Is it fault of mine," retorted the mesmerist, in that voice which he

could sometimes make thunderous, "that truth is so awful as to produce

such effects? Did I seek out the princess, and beg to be presented to

her? No, I was avoiding her, when they almost dragged me before her,

and she ordered me to answer her interrogation."

"But what was the dreadful truth you told her, my lord?" inquired the

princess.

"She saw it in the gap which I tore in the veil over the future,"

rejoined the mysterious man. "That future which has appeared so awful

to your royal highness that you have fled into a cloister to wrestle

against it at the altar with tears and prayers. Is it fault of mine,

I say, if this future, revealed to you as a holy woman, should be

shown to me as a precursor; and if the dauphiness, alarmed at the fate

personally threatening her, swooned when it loomed upon her?"

"Do you hear this?" said the cardinal.

"Woe is me!" moaned the Carmelite superior.

"For her reign is doomed as the most fatal and unfortunate of the

entire monarchy," continued the count.

"My lord!" cried the abbess.

"Perchance your prayers will earn your grace," proceeded the prophet,

"but then you will see nothing of what comes to pass, as you will rest

in the arms of the angels. Pray, lady; continue to pray!"

Overcome by this prophetic voice, which harmonized so well with the

terrors in her soul, the princess dropped kneeling before the crucifix

and began indeed to pray, and with fervor.

"Now, our turn, cardinal," said the count turning to the prince, and

leading him into a window recess. "Speak as to your want of me."

"I want to know what you are?"

"You do know--you say that I am a magician."

"I mean that you are called Joseph Balsamo in the south; and here,

Count Fenix."

"That merely proves that I change my name."

"Yes; but I would have you know that such changes on the part of such a

man will set Chief of Police Sartines to thinking."

"This is petty warfare for a Rohan," said the other, smiling.

"Your eminence stoops to wrangle over words. _Verba et voces_, says the

Latin. Is there nothing worse to fling at me?"

"You are railing, my lord."

"Always; it is my style."

"Then I shall make you change your note; which will help me in the good

graces of the dauphiness, whom you have offended."

"Do so, as it will not be a useless act, considering the delicate

ground on which you stand as regards her," returned Balsamo

phlegmatically.

"What will you say if I have you arrested straightway, my lord the

horoscopist?"

"You would do yourself injury, my lord cardinal."

"Really! How do you make that out?" demanded the proud peer with

crushing scorn.

"You would unmake yourself."

"At least, we shall know who really is Baron Joseph Balsamo, _alias_

Count Fenix, a sprig of a family tree of which I have never seen the

picture in any heraldic work in Europe."

"You should have asked to see it in the portfolio of the Duke of

Breteuil, your friend----"

"His grace is no friend of mine."

"He was, and an intimate one, or your eminence would never have written

him that letter--but draw closer, my lord, lest we are overheard in

what may compromise you!--that letter written from Vienna to Paris to

dissuade the dauphin from making his marriage."

"That letter!" gasped the prince, starting with fright.

"I know it by heart."

"Breteuil has betrayed? because he said it was--burned when I asked it

back, when the marriage was settled."

"He did not like to admit that he had lost it. A lost letter may be

found; and, indeed, I found it in the Marble Court at Versailles. I

took good care not to restore it to the duke, for I knew your eminence

was ill-disposed toward me. If you were going through the woods and

expected highwaymen to attack you, and you found a loaded pistol, would

you not pick it up to use it? A man would be an idiot not to do so."

The cardinal felt giddy and leaned on the window-sill. After

hesitation, during which the count watched the play of his features, he

said:

"Granted thus. But it shall never be said that a prince of my line

yielded to the threats of a mountebank. Though this letter may have

been lost, and found, and will be shown to the dauphiness herself,

and may ruin me as a politician, I will stand to it that I am still a

loyal subject and a faithful ambassador. I will speak the truth--that I

thought the alliance injurious to the interests of my country, and let

it defend me or blame me."

"But what will be the answer of this faithful subject and loyal envoy

if somebody asserts that this gallant young beau of an ambassador,

never doubting his winning all before him with his title of prince and

name of Rohan, did not say this from any opinion that the alliance

would be hurtful to his country, but because--being graciously welcomed

by Marie Antoinette--this coxcomb of an envoy had the vanity to think

the feast was fitter for Jack than his master?"

"He would deny; for of this feeling which you pretend to have existed,

no proof can be exhibited."

"You are wrong; the token is in the dauphiness' coldness toward you."

The cardinal wavered.

"Believe me, prince," went on the count, "instead of quarreling, as we

should have done, only for my having more prudence than you, we had

better be friends--good ones, for such do one another service."

"Have I ever asked aught of your lordship?"

"Just there you are wrong; for you might have called on me during the

two days you spent in town. You cannot conceal from a sorcerer what you

have been about. You left the Austrian princess at Soissons, whence

you rushed posthaste to Paris, where you dunned your friends for help,

which they all refused you. This left you desperate."

"What kind of help could I expect from you, had I applied?" asked the

Rohan, confounded.

"Such as a man gives who can make gold. And you ought to want gold when

you have to pay five hundred thousand francs in forty-eight hours. You

want to know what good a man is who makes gold? Why, he is the very one

where you will find the cash demanded. You could easily tell my house

in Saint Claude Street in the swamp, as the knocker is a brass griffin."

"When could I call?"

"Six, to-morrow afternoon, please your eminence, and whenever after

you like. But we have finished our chat in time, for the princess has

concluded her devotions."

The cardinal was conquered.

"Your highness," he said, "I am forced to acknowledge that Count Fenix

is quite right; the document he produces is most reliable, and the

explanations he has furnished have completely satisfied me."

"Your highness' orders?" asked the count, bowing.

"Let me put one last question to this young lady."

Again the count bowed in assent.

"Is it of your own free will that you quit the abbey of St. Denis,

where you came to seek refuge?"

"Her highness," repeated Fenix, quickly, "asks you whether you are

leaving this place of your own free will. Speak out Lorenza."

"I go of my own free will," replied the Italian.

"In order to accompany Count Fenix, your husband?" prompted the

magician.

"To accompany my husband."

"In this case I retain neither of you," said the princess, "for it

would be running counter to my feelings. But, if there be anything in

all this out of the natural order of things, may the divine punishment

fall on whomsoever disturbs the harmony of nature for his profit or

interests. Go, my Lord Count Fenix; and you, Lorenza Feliciani--I

detain you no more. But take back your jewels."

"They are for the poor," replied Balsamo; "distributed by your hands,

the alms will be doubly agreeable to God. All I ask is to have my horse

Djerid."

"Take him as you go forth. Begone!"

Bowing to the speaker, the count presented his arm to Lorenza, who

leaned upon it and walked out without a word.

"Alas, my lord cardinal," sighed the abbess, sadly shaking her head,

"in the very air we breathe are fatal and incomprehensible things!"

Balsamo, the magician; or, the memoirs of a physician · 第 33 / 46 章