THE OPERATION.
We have given up the attempt to paint the countenance, attitude, and gesticulation of Rodin during the reading of this note, which seemed to ruin all his most cherished hopes.Everything was failing at once, at the moment when only superhuman trust in the success of his plans could give him sufficient energy to strive against mortal sickness.A single, absorbing thought had agitated him even to delirium: What progress, during his illness, had been made in this immense affair? He had first heard a good piece of news, the death of Jacques Rennepont; but now the advantages of this decease, which reduced the number of the heirs from seven to six, were entirely lost.To what purpose would be this death, if the other members of the family, dispersed and persecuted with such infernal perseverance, were to unite and discover the enemies who had so long aimed at them in darkness? If all those wounded hearts were to console, enlighten, support each other, their cause would be gained, and the inheritance rescued from the reverend fathers.What was to be done?
Strange power of the human will!--Rodin had one foot in the grave, he was almost at the last gasp; his voice had failed him.And yet that obstinate nature, so full of energy and resources, did not despair.Let but a miracle restore his health, and that firm confidence in the success of his projects which has given him power to struggle against disease, tells him that he could yet save all--but then he must have health and life! Health! life! His physician does not know if he will survive the shock--if he can bear the pain--of a terrible operation.Health! life!
and just now Rodin heard talk of the solemn funeral they had prepared for him.And yet--health, life, he will have them.Yes; he has willed to live--and he has lived--why should he not live longer? He will live--
because he has willed it.
All that we have just written passed though Rodin's mind in a second.
His features, convulsed by the mental torment he endured, must have assumed a very strange expression, for Father d'Aigrigny and the cardinal looked at him in silent consternation.Once resolved to live, and to sustain a desperate struggle with the Rennepont family, Rodin acted in consequence.For a few moments Father d'Aigrigny and the prelate believed themselves under the influence of a dream.By an effort of unparalleled energy, and as if moved by hidden mechanism, Rodin sprang from the bed, dragging the sheet with him, and trailing it, like a shroud, behind his livid and fleshless body.The room was cold; the face of the Jesuit was bathed in sweat; his naked and bony feet left their moist print upon the stones.
"What are you doing? It is death!" cried Father d'Aigrigny, rushing towards Rodin, to force him to lie down again.
But the latter, extending one of his skeleton arms, as hard as iron, pushed aside Father d'Aigrigny with inconceivable vigor, considering the state of exhaustion in which he had so long been.
"He has the strength of a man in a fit of epilepsy," said Father d'Aigrigny, recovering his balance.
With a steady step Rodin advanced to the desk on which Dr.Baleinier daily wrote his prescriptions.Seating himself before it, the Jesuit took pen and paper, and began to write in a firm hand.His calm, slow, and sure movements had in them something of the deliberateness remarked in somnambulists.Mute and motionless, hardly knowing whether they dreamed or not, the cardinal and Father d'Aigrigny remained staring at the incredible coolness of Rodin, who, half-naked, continued to write with perfect tranquillity.
"But, father," said the Abbe d'Aigrigny, advancing towards him, "this is madness!"
Rodin shrugged his shoulders, stopped him with a gesture and made him a sign to read what he had just written.
The reverend father expected to see the ravings of a diseased brain; but he took the note, whilst Rodin commenced another.
"My lord," exclaimed Father d'Aigrigny, "read this!"
The cardinal read the paper, and returning it to the reverend father with equal amazement, added: "It is full of reason, ability, and resources.
We shall thus be able to neutralize the dangerous combination of Abbe Gabriel and Mdlle.de Cardoville, who appear to be the most formidable leaders of the coalition."
"It is really miraculous," said Father d'Aigrigny.
"Oh, my dear father!" whispered the cardinal, shaking his head; "what a pity that we are the only witnesses of this scene! What an excellent MIRACLE we could have made of it! In one sense, it is another Raising of Lazarus!"
"What an idea, my lord!" answered Father d'Aigrigny, in a low voice."It is perfect--and we must not give it up--"
This innocent little plot was interrupted by Rodin, who, turning his head, made a sign to Father d'Aigrigny to approach, and delivered to him another sheet, with this note attached: "To be executed within an hour."
Having rapidly perused the paper, Father d'Aigrigny exclaimed: "Right! I had not thought of that.Instead of being fatal, the correspondence between Agricola and M.Hardy may thus have the best results.Really,"
added the reverend father in a low voice to the prelate, while Rodin continued to write, "I am quite confounded.I read--I see--and yet I can hardly believe my eyes.Just before, exhausted and dying--and now with his mind as clear and penetrating as ever.Can this be one of the phenomena of somnambulism, in which the mind alone governs and sustains the body?"
Suddenly the door opened, and Dr.Baleinier entered the room.At sight of Rodin, seated half-naked at the desk, with his feet upon the cold stones, the doctor exclaimed, in a tone of reproach and alarm: "But, my lord--but, father--it is murder to let the unhappy man do this!--If he is delirious from fever, he must have the strait-waistcoat, and be tied down in bed."
