THE EGYPTIAN SCARABEE.
All at once Madame Du Berry sprang to her feet; her audacious courage
assumed all its force. She would not believe the fearful thing that man
had said with so much pain.
“Go,” she said to the dwarf, “there is no need of all this whimpering.
The man is an imposter; my enemies have sent him here. He will boast of
the fright he has given me, and they will enjoy the treat. Take your
hand from that poniard, Zamara. I will deal with this false wizard
alone.”
Zamara crept from the room, sobbing piteously. Then the countess turned
upon Gosner.
“Confess you were put up to this—some bitter enemy hoped to give me a
horrible fright. Perhaps it was the Dauphiness, herself, who could not
wait for a report, but came, with a crowd of her ladies, to be near when
your work was done.”
The doctor shook off his weakness, under this rude attack, and walked
firmly toward the angry woman.
“Madame will remember that I came here by her own command—I will add
now, much against my wishes. Heaven knows I do not willingly enter into
a scene like the one which has just passed! It has not surprised or
wounded you more than it has me.”
The countess laughed. Tears stood in her eyes, and her voice broke forth
in a shriek. She was hysterical with anger and affright.
“You still persist? You wish to leave me in abject terror. Know that in
my whole life I—I have never been afraid. Still it would be better to
tell me all. I will forgive this wicked attempt to terrify me. Make
yourself sure that it has failed—miserably failed. I shall only look
upon it as an absurd joke. So you may speak out, and have no fear of
punishment.”
“I have nothing to say, madame,” answered the doctor, “save that I came
here by your command, that I am now ready to retire.”
“Then you will not confess? Well, yes, I will appeal to you. I shall be
happier, not that I was really frightened; but I shall be happier to
know that this was the work of an enemy. Make yourself sure of this, no
queen ever rewarded or punished as I will reward or punish you.”
“Lady, permit me to depart as I came, deserving neither reward or
punishment.”
Dr. Gosner moved toward the door. The countess followed him.
“Still obstinate, still faithful to my enemies. Here, take this, it once
shone in the crown of France. If that is not enough, I will send Zamara
to the lord treasurer for gold. Only have some compassion, and do not
leave me haunted by that awful prediction. Oh, it is terrible!”
The countess took Gosner’s hand and attempted to force a large diamond
on his little finger; but he resisted. A ring was already there, so
singular in its form that it drew her attention. In a setting of rough
gold was a small beetle cut from a chrysoprase gem, and engraved with
hieroglyphics. The countess gave this ring a curious glance, and with
eager violence attempted to draw it from his finger in order to give
place for her diamond; but he tore his hand from her grasp, exclaiming
passionately,
“Not for ten thousand diamonds!”
“Why? It is but a green stone spoiled by the graver; let me look at it.”
“Lady, for your own sake, forbear. When this ring leaves my finger, it
will be to carry sorrow and misfortune wherever it goes. With me, or any
of my blood, it brings a blessing; away from us, nothing but evil will
follow it.”
The countess exhibited no haste to touch the ring again, but her eyes
dwelt on it curiously, until a sort of fascination possessed her. In her
intense interest she seemed to forget all that had passed before.
“Tell me about it! Give me its history! In what way did it become
possessed of this marvellous power of good and evil?
“As for its history, I can tell you this much. An ancestor of mine,
being warned of its existence by a power which I have no right to
explain, found this stone in the sarcophagus of an Egyptian monarch, who
had been inclosed in the marble many many thousand years. The gold which
encircles it was found coiled around the finger of the mummy in the form
of a serpent. This serpent seemed alive, its eyes were so bright and its
jaws closed on the fangs with such a clinging grip. In this form my
ancestor wore it during the rest of his life.”
“And it gave him prosperity—happiness?”
“I have said, madame, that it brings nothing but good to any man or
woman who has a drop of my ancestor’s blood in his or her veins—nothing
but evil to the person who has not. My ancestor, who lived centuries
ago, believed that his own line ran back thousands of years through the
man from whose tomb this chrysoprase was taken. He also believed that it
possessed a supernatural influence on the possessor; and the ring has
fallen to us from father to son as the most precious inheritance that
ever descended for generations in one family.”
“Always bringing happiness?” inquired the countess.
“The man who wears this ring finds all knowledge easy to him—and
knowledge to the men of our house is in itself happiness.”
“But it is sure to carry mental blindness and ruin into any strange
line?”
“So the tradition connected with the ring assures us.”
“Has it never passed out of the direct line?”
“Once.”
“And what happened?”
“The man who stole it died a maniac, with the ring upon his finger.”
“And you would not part with it for gold or honors?”
The doctor only answered with a smile—the idea seemed impossible to him.
Madame put the diamond slowly back upon her finger, still keeping her
eyes wistfully on the Egyptian relic. All at once her countenance
changed; an idea flashed through her brain, and shone upon her face. She
waved her hand in dismissal.
Dr. Gosner gladly accepted this permission to withdraw from a presence
which, from the first, had been hateful to him. The moment he was gone,
madame snatched up the bell and rang it sharply. Zamara answered it.
“Tell one of my people to follow that man even to Paris, if it is
necessary; trace him to his abode, wherever it is. Then, and not till
then, I shall expect my messenger back. Quick, Zamara, for he walks
fast; glad to escape.”
The Indian dwarf made a hurried salam, and left the room. In a few
moments madame had the pleasure of seeing one of her retainers, whose
talent as a spy she could depend on, stealthily following the track of
her late visitor.