HYDROPHOBIA.
When the sick people, assembled in the courtyard, saw the desperate efforts of Morok to force the door of the room which contained Sister Martha and the orphans, their fright redoubled."It is all over, Sister Martha!" cried they.
"The door will give way."
"And the closet has no other entrance."
"There are two young girls in mourning with her."
"Come! we must not leave these poor women to encounter the madman.
Follow me, friends!" cried generously one of the spectators, who was still blessed with health, and he rushed towards the steps to return to the ante-chamber.
"It's too late! it's only exposing yourself in vain," cried many persons, holding him back by force.
At this moment, voices were heard, exclaiming: "Here is the Abbe Gabriel."
"He is coming downstairs.He has heard the noise."
"He is asking what is the matter."
"What will he do?"
Gabriel, occupied with a dying person in a neighboring room, had, indeed, just learned that Morok, having broken his bonds, had succeeded in escaping from the chamber in which he had been temporarily confined.
Foreseeing the terrible dangers which might result from the escape of the lion-tamer, the missionary consulted only his courage, and hastened down, in the hope of preventing greater misfortunes.In obedience to his orders, an attendant followed him, bearing a brazier full of hot cinders, on which lay several irons, at a white heat, used by the doctors for cauterizing, in desperate cases of cholera.
The angelic countenance of Gabriel was very pale; but calm intrepidity shone upon his noble brow.Hastily crossing the passage, and making his way through the crowd, he went straight to the ante-chamber door.As he approached it, one of the sick people said to him, in a lamentable voice;
"Ah, sir! it is all over.Those who can see through the window say that Sister Martha is lost."
Gabriel made no answer, but grasped the key of the door.Before entering the room, however, he turned to the attendant, and said to him in a firm voice: "Are the irons of a white heat?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then wait here, and be ready.As for you, my friends," he added, turning to some of the sick, who shuddered with terror, "as soon as I enter shut the door after me.I will answer for the rest.And you;
friend, only bring your irons when I call."
And the young missionary turned the key in the lock.At this juncture, a cry of alarm, pity, and admiration rose from every lip, and the spectators drew back from the door, with an involuntary feeling of fear.
Raising his eyes to heaven, as if to invoke its assistance at this terrible moment, Gabriel pushed open the door, and immediately closed it behind him.He was alone with Morok.
The lion-tamer, by a last furious effort, had almost succeeded in opening the door, to which Sister Martha and the orphans were clinging, in a fit of terror, uttering piercing cries.At the sound of Gabriel's footsteps, Morok turned round suddenly.Then, instead of continuing his attack on the closet, he sprang, with a roar and a bound, upon the new-comer.
During this time, Sister Martha and the orphans, not knowing the cause of the sudden retreat of their assailant, took advantage of the opportunity to close and bolt the door, and thus placed themselves in security from a new attack.Morok, with haggard eye, and teeth convulsively clinched, had rushed upon Gabriel, his hands extended to seize him by the throat.
The missionary stood the shock valiantly.Guessing, at a glance, the intention of his adversary, he seized him by the wrists as he advanced, and, holding him back, bent him down violently with a vigorous hand.For a second, Morok and Gabriel remained mute, breathless, motionless, gazing on each other; then the missionary strove to conquer the efforts of the madman, who, with violent jerks, attempted to throw himself upon him, and to seize and tear him with his teeth.
Suddenly the lion-tamer's strength seemed to fail, his knees quivered, his livid head sank upon his shoulder, his eyes closed.The missionary, supposing that a momentary weakness had succeeded to the fit of rage, and that the wretch was about to fall, relaxed his hold in order to lend him assistance.But no sooner did he feel himself at liberty, thanks to his crafty device, than Morok flung himself furiously upon Gabriel.
Surprised by this sudden attack, the latter stumbled, and at once felt himself clasped into the iron arms of the madman.Yet, with redoubled strength and energy, struggling breast to breast, foot to foot, the missionary in his turn succeeded in tripping up his adversary, and, throwing him with a vigorous effort, again seized his hands, and now held him down beneath his knee.Having thus completely mastered him, Gabriel turned his head to call for assistance, when Morok, by a desperate strain, succeeded in raising himself a little, and seized with his teeth the left arm of the missionary.At this sharp, deep, horrible bite, which penetrated to the very bone, Gabriel could not restrain a scream of anguish and horror.He strove in vain to disengage himself, for his arm was held fast, as in a vice, between the firm-set jaws of Morok.
This frightful scene had lasted less time than it has taken in the description, when suddenly the door leading to the passage was violently opened, and several courageous men, who had learned from the patients to what danger the young priest was exposed, came rushing to his assistance, in spite of his recommendation not to enter till he should call.The attendant was amongst the number, with the brazier and the hot irons.
Gabriel, as soon as he perceived him, said to him in an agitated voice:
"Quick, friend! your iron.Thank God I had thought of that."
