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"You have come to consult me about Marsa," said Andras, unconsciously glad to p.r.o.nounce her name.
"Yes," began the General, becoming suddenly intimidated, "of--of Marsa.
She is very ill-Marsa is. Very ill. Stupor, Fargeas says. She does not say a word-nothing. A regular automaton! It is terrible to see her--terrible--terrible."
He raised his round, uneasy eyes to Andras, who was striving to appear calm, but whose lips twitched nervously.
"It is impossible to rouse her," continued Vogotzine. "The doctors can do nothing. There is no hope except in an--an--an experiment."
"An experiment?"
"Yes, exactly, exactly--an experiment. You see he--he wanted to know if--(you must pardon me for what I am about to propose; it is Doctor Fargeas's idea)--You see--if--if--she should see--(I suppose--these are not my words)--if she should see you again at Doctor Sims's establishment--the emotion--the--the--Well, I don't know exactly what Doctor Fargeas does hope; but I have repeated to you his words--I am simply, quite simply, his messenger."
"The doctor," said Andras, calmly, "would like--your niece to see me again?"
"Yes, yes; and speak to you. You see, you are the only one for whom--"
The Prince interrupted the General, who instantly became as mute as if he were in the presence of the Czar.
"It is well. But what Doctor Fargeas asks of me will cause me intense suffering."
Vogotzine did not open his lips.
"See her again? He wishes to revive all my sorrow, then!"
Vogotzine waited, motionless as if on parade.
After a moment or two, Andras saying no more, the General thought that he might speak.
"I understand. I knew very well what your answer would be. I told the doctor so; but he replied, 'It is a question of humanity. The Prince will not refuse.'"
Fargeas must have known Prince Zilah's character well when he used the word humanity. The Prince would not have refused his pity to the lowest of human beings; and so, never mind what his sufferings might be, if his presence could do any good, he must obey the doctor.
"When does Doctor Fargeas wish me to go?"
"Whenever you choose. The doctor is just now at Vaugirard, on a visit to his colleague, and--"
"Do not let us keep him waiting!"
Vogotzine's eyes brightened.
"Then you consent? You will go?"
He tried to utter some word of thanks, but Andras cut him short, saying:
"I will order the carriage."
"I have a carriage," said Vogotzine, joyously. "We can go at once."
Zilah was silent during the drive; and Vogotzine gazed steadily out of the window, without saying a word, as the Prince showed no desire to converse.
They stopped before a high house, evidently built in the last century, and which was probably formerly a convent. The General descended heavily from the coupe, rang the bell, and stood aside to let Zilah pa.s.s before him.
The Prince's emotion was betrayed in a certain stiffness of demeanor, and in his slow walk, as if every movement cost him an effort. He stroked his moustache mechanically, and glanced about the garden they were crossing, as if he expected to see Marsa at once.
Dr. Fargeas appeared very much pleased to see the Prince, and he thanked him warmly for having come. A thin, light-haired man, with a pensive look and superb eyes, accompanied Fargeas, and the physician introduced him to the Prince as Dr. Sims.
Dr. Sims shared the opinion of his colleague. Having taken the invalid away, and separated her from every thing that could recall the past, the physicians thought, that, by suddenly confronting her with a person so dear to her as Prince Zilah, the shock and emotion might rouse her from her morbid state.
Fargeas explained to the Prince why he had thought it best to transport the invalid from Maisons-Lafitte to Vaugirard, and he thanked him for having approved of his determination.
Zilah noticed that Fargeas, in speaking of Marsa, gave her no name or t.i.tle. With his usual tact, the doctor had divined the separation; and he did not call Marsa the Princess, but, in tones full of pity, spoke of her as the invalid.
"She is in the garden," said Dr. Sims, when Fargeas had finished speaking. "Will you see her now?"
"Yes," said the Prince, in a voice that trembled slightly, despite his efforts to control it.
"We will take a look at her first; and then, if you will be so kind, show yourself to her suddenly. It is only an experiment we are making.
If she does not recognize you, her condition is graver than I think. If she does recognize you, well, I hope that we shall be able to cure her.
Come!"
Dr. Sims motioned the Prince to precede them.
"Shall I accompany you, gentlemen?" asked Vogotzine.
"Certainly, General!"
"You see, I don't like lunatics; they produce a singular effect upon me; they don't interest me at all. But still, after all, she is my niece!"
And he gave a sharp pull to his frock-coat, as he would have tightened his belt before an a.s.sault.
They descended a short flight of steps, and found themselves in a large garden, with trees a century old, beneath which were several men and women walking about or sitting in chairs.
A large, new building, one story high, appeared at one end of the garden; in this were the dormitories of Dr. Sims's patients.
"Are those people insane?" asked Zilah, pointing to the peaceful groups.
"Yes," said Dr. Sims; "it requires a stretch of the imagination to believe it, does it not? You can speak to them as we pa.s.s by. All these here are harmless."
"Shall we cross the garden?"
"Our invalid is below there, in another garden, behind that house."
As he pa.s.sed by, Zilah glanced curiously at these poor beings, who bowed, or exchanged a few words with the two physicians. It seemed to him that they had the happy look of people who had reached the desired goal. Vogotzine, coughing nervously, kept close to the Prince and felt very ill at ease. Andras, on the contrary, found great difficulty in realizing that he was really among lunatics.
"See," said Dr. Sims, pointing out an old gentleman, dressed in the style of 1840, like an old-fas.h.i.+oned lithograph of a beau of the time of Gavarni, "that man has been more than thirty-five years in the inst.i.tution. He will not change the cut of his garments, and he is very careful to have his tailor make his clothes in the same style he dressed when he was young. He is very happy. He thinks that he is the enchanter Merlin, and he listens to Vivian, who makes appointments with him under the trees."
As they pa.s.sed the old man, his neck imprisoned in a high stock, his surtout cut long and very tight in the waist, and his trousers very full about the hips and very close about the ankles, he bowed politely.
"Good-morning, Doctor Sims! Good-morning, Doctor Fargeas!"