The Maid of Honour Volume I Part 12

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The other pa.s.sage? Through the gates of Death. No. That method of escape might not be employed either. What would the old man's feelings be if he discovered that she had been driven to suicide? And yet--to fall into the maw of the abbe. Never--never--never. Why not? Why should she care what happened? To her it mattered little now what chanced, bereft of all. Her father need never know. Perhaps, if she gave way they would in pity grant her peace? Sure she was going crazy.

Peace? The peace of guilt? Peace where there was no peace? No--no. It should never come to that.

CHAPTER X.

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 a.s.sured that the magic tub was no fraud--Mesmer, a genius, not a charlatan! They must toast the prophet in b.u.mpers 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 fis.h.!.+ 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 tw.a.n.g 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 gra.s.s, 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 beat.i.tude 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 n.o.blesse_--were of rougher grit than pampered city ones; and, in sober fact, the baron did not know a ba.s.soon from a violin.

But then there were unexpected difficulties, under which Clovis unaided would have succ.u.mbed. 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 a.s.sist at such a spectacle. The rope was abandoned, and in its stead a long tube of gla.s.s was pa.s.sed 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 p.r.i.c.kings--such curious p.r.i.c.kings. "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 sc.r.a.ped 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 st.u.r.dily 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 tw.a.n.g 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.

The Maid of Honour Volume I Part 12

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