THE IMPROVISED HOSPITAL
Among a great number of temporary hospitals opened at the time of the cholera in every quarter of Paris, one had been established on the ground-floor of a large house in the Rue du Mont-Blanc.The vacant apartments had been generously placed by their proprietor at the disposal of the authorities; and to this place were carried a number of persons, who, being suddenly attacked with the contagion, were considered in too dangerous a state to be removed to the principal hospitals.
Two days had elapsed since Rodin's visit to Marshal Simon's daughters.
Shortly after he had been expelled, the Princess de Saint-Dizier had entered to see them, under the cloak of being a house-to-house visitor to collect funds for the cholera sufferers.
Choosing the moment when Dagobert, deceived by her lady-like demeanor, had withdrawn, she counselled the twins that it was their duty to go and see their governess, whom she stated to be in the hospital we now describe.
It was about ten o'clock in the morning.The persons who had watched during the night by the sick people, in the hospital established in the Rue du Mont-Blanc, were about to be relieved by other voluntary assistants.
"Well, gentlemen," said one of those newly arrived, "how are we getting on? Has there been any decrease last night in the number of the sick?"
"Unfortunately, no; but the doctors think the contagion has reached its height."
Then there is some hope of seeing it decrease."
"And have any of the gentlemen, whose places we come to take, been attacked by the disease?"
"We came eleven strong last night; we are only nine now."
"That is bad.Were these two persons taken off rapidly?"
"One of the victims, a young man of twenty-five years of age, a cavalry officer on furlough, was struck as it were by lightning.In less than a quarter of an hour he was dead.Though such facts are frequent, we were speechless with horror."
"Poor young man!"
"He had a word of cordial encouragement and hope for every, one.He had so far succeeded in raising the spirits of the patients, that some of them who were less affected by the cholera than by the fear of it, were able to quit the hospital nearly well."
"What a pity! So good a young man! Well, he died gloriously; it requires as much courage as on the field of battle."
"He had only one rival in zeal and courage, and that is a Young priest, with an angelic countenance, whom they call the Abbe Gabriel.He is indefatigable; he hardly takes an hour's rest, but runs from one to the other, and offers himself to everybody.He forgets nothing.The consolation; which he offers come from the depths of his soul, and are not mere formalities in the way of his profession.No, no, I saw him weep over a poor woman, whose eyes he had closed after a dreadful agony.
Oh, if all priests were like him!"
"No doubt, a good priest is most worthy of respect.But! who is the other victim of last night?"
"Oh! his death was frightful.Do not speak of it.I have still the horrible scene before my eyes."
"A sudden attack of cholera?"
"If it had only been the contagion, I should not so shudder at the remembrance."
"What then did he die of?"
"It is a string of horrors.Three days ago, they brought here a man, who was supposed to be only attacked with cholera.You have no doubt heard speak of this personage.He is the lion-tamer, that drew all Paris to the Porte-Saint-Martin."
"I know the man you mean.Called Morok.He performed a kind of play with a tame panther."
"Exactly so; I was myself present at a similar scene, which a stranger, an Indian, in consequence of a wager, was said at the time, jumped upon the stage and killed the panther."
"Well, this Morok, brought here as a cholera-patient, and indeed with all the symptoms of the contagion, soon showed signs of a still more frightful malady."
"And this was--"
"Hydrophobia."
"Did he become mad?"
"Yes; he confessed, that he had been bitten a few days before by one of the mastiffs in his menagerie; unfortunately, we only learnt this circumstance after the terrible attack, which cost the life of the poor fellow we deplore."
"How did it happen, then?"
"Morok was in a room with three other patients.Suddenly seized with a sort of furious delirium, he rose, uttering ferocious cries, and rushed raving mad into the passage.Our poor friend made an attempt to stop him.This kind of resistance increased the frenzy of Morok, who threw himself on the man that crossed his path, and, tearing him with his teeth, fell down in horrible convulsions."
"Oh! you are right.'Twas indeed frightful.And, not withstanding every assistance this victim of Morok's--"
"Died during the night, in dreadful agony; for the shock had been so violent, that brain-fever almost instantly declared itself."
"And is Morok dead?"
"I do not know.He was to be taken to another hospital, after being fast bound in the state of weakness which generally succeeds the fit.But, till he can be removed he has been confined in a room upstairs."
"But he cannot recover."
