The Count François stopped and looked at his father who still sat, or
lay, motionless as a corpse in that singular _dormeuse_, half chair,
half couch. Had there appeared on those utterly blank features some
expression which I had not perceived? The count, at any rate, turned at
once toward me, and said:
“Monsieur, we are almost ready. Think again, I beg of you. Is there
really nothing you would like before the operation begins? Is there
anything we can do for you within the limits you now know? Our earnest
wish is to satisfy your slightest desire, if possible; and we hope you
will enable us to demonstrate our best good will!”
I was about to shake my head from right to left, in sign of refusal,
when an idea flashed across my mind, setting my whole being afire with
a sudden glow. I checked myself, my eyes fixed upon my interlocutor,
one hand raised, my lips opening to form a word.
“Do not hesitate, Monsieur,” the count encouraged.
“Gentlemen,” said I, with decision, and sweeping all three of them
with a rapid glance, “Gentlemen, there is one favor you could do me,
a favor which I trust you will have no difficulty in according, such
immense store do I set upon it. Grant me this boon I ask, and I am
ready to repay you not with my passive consent merely, but with my most
active and sincere assistance in whatever you intend to do with me--be
it even against my life. Look, gentlemen: some time ago you allowed
me, did you not, to visit the room where my friend Madame de X.... is
sleeping, perhaps in an hypnotic trance. My desire, my fervent prayer
is to see her ... once more ... for one last time; but I must see her
natural self, awake, that is, conscious, living, so that I may speak
to her and hear her speak to me, that I may bid her farewell, forever,
and spend one short hour alone, alone, with her. An hour, yes, just
one hour. Then ... I shall be at your service, your man, your chattel,
anything you wish, for as long a time as you wish.”
I fell silent, crossing my arms upon my chest. Neither the count nor
the vicomte replied for a moment; and I could see them consulting each
other out of the corners of their eyes. Then, as they had so often done
before, they turned toward their respective father and grandfather, and
questioned him in silence. Again there was no change that I could see
on that inert and expressionless countenance; and the old man’s eyelids
remained firmly closed. But the Count François must have seen something
that I did not see; for he addressed me straightway and without the
shadow of incertitude:
“Monsieur,” said he, “your wish shall be granted. We will do as you
propose.”
A thrill of undescribable emotion swept over me. The count meanwhile
held his gaze intently fixed upon his father’s face, interpreting to me
the decision he found written there:
“Monsieur,” he repeated, “we shall do as you propose. We shall have
the honor of escorting you to the room where Madame de X.... is
sleeping. We shall leave you alone with her. As soon as we are gone,
she, according to your request, will regain consciousness, and you will
be free to converse with her on any subject without any restriction
whatsoever. Do not be surprised, Monsieur. During your visit Madame
de X.... will be her material self, awake, conscious, living, as you
have asked. She will know that you are there, and she will be glad to
see you. But of course she will still have over her eyes the invisible
blinder that we have placed upon them. She will not know where she
is, and will not find it extraordinary to be meeting you in a strange
room. Indeed it will not be strange to her. She will take it for her
own or for yours. She will, in short, be unaware of everything which
the vital interest of the Ever-living Men requires her not to know.
Supposing, for example, you were to spend your time and pains in trying
to enlighten this beneficent unconsciousness of hers. You will not
succeed, I warn you in advance, for, at the end of the sixtieth minute,
Madame de X.... will fall asleep again, as we have bargained, and will
lose all memory of this talk with you, which memory will be erased from
her mind, rendered absolutely null and nil forever ... Monsieur, will
you be so kind as to step this way?...”
He was already on the threshold, and, with the younger man leading, he
crossed the same anteroom again. I followed close behind him. I am sure
I staggered as I walked along.
Outside the badly jointed door, the familiar perfume that I loved came
to my nostrils in warm subtle waves of fragrance. I thought I was
fainting as I breathed it in.
“Monsieur,” the Count François was now saying in a low voice,
“Monsieur, for the duration of one hour, please consider this your
house!”