Monte-Cristo's Daughter Part 32

"M. Morrel, kindly conduct your wife hither, and you, M. the Count, go to your daughter and remain with her until I summon you. Tell the poor child to be of good cheer! that her lover shall be restored to her!"

Monte-Cristo quitted the chamber, followed by Maximilian, who instantly came back with Valentine.

"Mme. Morrel," said the Jewish physician, "go to the patient and take his hand."

Valentine did as directed. At her touch the Viscount started up, exclaiming, in tones of the utmost delight:

"Divine Juno, pardon me! I have wronged you! I thought you had deserted me, but I was in error, for you are here!"

He fixed his eyes upon her, gazing at her like one entranced, paying no heed whatever to the others in the apartment. Valentine glanced at Dr.

Absalom, who slowly left his place, gliding stealthily to Ma.s.setti's side. Erecting himself to his full height, he extended his hands above Giovanni's head; almost instantly the demented man sank back into his chair as if pressed down by some colossal, some irresistible force; then he closed his eyes, falling into a calm, peaceful slumber. Valentine, released from his clasp, stood looking on, lost in speechless wonder.

Maximilian was also amazed at this prompt exhibition of the Hebrew's power, but the Italian physician, who had been intently watching, whispered in his ear:

"The Jew is a mesmerist; that is all; at least, all that has been developed so far!"

Meanwhile Dr. Absalom continued to hold his hands above the patient's head that drooped more and more until it finally sank upon his breast.

For a moment longer the Hebrew maintained his position; then he withdrew his hands, taking a small vial from the pocket of his coat and uncorking it; immediately a powerful and subtle odor pervaded the apartment, causing Valentine, Maximilian and the Italian physician to breathe painfully, as if stifling.

"What is it?" gasped M. Morrel, catching the Italian by the arm.

"I do not know," answered the latter. "But look at Ma.s.setti--his face is violet, the preliminary hue of death! If the Jew kills the patient nothing can save him from the fury of the Roman populace!"

The subtle odor increased in intensity and the Viscount's face changed from violet to an ashen paleness.

"He is dead!" cried the Italian. "Dr. Absalom, you are a murderer!"

The Hebrew waved his hand commandingly and, with a look of the utmost dignity and sternness, said:

"Be silent and wait!"

He corked the vial, replaced it in his pocket and opened a window. The fresh air flooded the place and gradually the oppressive odor vanished.

The patient was yet of a ghastly pallor. Dr. Absalom felt his pulse, counting the beats by his watch. A smile of satisfaction overspread his intellectual countenance.

"The remedy has done its work!" he said. "Now for the second and vital application! Whatever may happen," he added, impressively, turning to the Italian physician, "I charge you on your life not to interfere or interrupt me!"

Producing another vial, larger than the first, he held it aloft and shook it, examining its contents with the closest scrutiny. The deeply interested and somewhat awed observers saw a bright green fluid flash in the sunlight. Satisfied with his examination, the Hebrew uncorked the vial; then, opening the patient's mouth, he poured the emerald liquid gradually down his throat, drop by drop. For some seconds after this no change in Ma.s.setti was perceptible. He still sat sleeping in his chair with his head bowed, and the ghastly hue of his visage remained unaltered. Dr. Absalom had again drawn his watch from his fob, dividing his attention between noting the flight of time and intently observing the patient. So profound was the silence in the room that the regular tick of the watch was distinctly audible in all parts of it.

Suddenly Giovanni began to quiver. A violent convulsion followed, shaking him from head to foot and fearfully contorting his face, his hands curling up like a strip of paper that has been sc.r.a.ped with a knife. His condition was frightful to behold. Maximilian and the Italian looked on anxiously, holding their breath. Valentine unable to bear the sight turned away, emotion and terror contending within her for the mastery. The Hebrew, however, was all nerve and confidence. When a quarter of an hour had elapsed he put up his watch. Ma.s.setti's convulsion had pa.s.sed away, his hands had uncurled and his unearthly pallor had been succeeded by a faint flush. He reclined in his chair as if wrapped in a healthful slumber. Presently his lips parted.

"Zuleika!" he murmured. "Oh! my beloved!"

Dr. Absalom glanced at the Italian physician significantly, triumphantly.

"The patient is dreaming," he said, "and it is a good sign--he is dreaming of his betrothed whom in his insanity he had entirely forgotten--another good sign! My treatment is working! I shall succeed!"

Turning to Maximilian, he added: "Aid me to place the Viscount upon his bed, if you please."

M. Morrel complied with alacrity and Ma.s.setti was immediately extended on his couch in a comfortable position. Dr. Absalom again felt his pulse, counting it as before by his watch; then he said:

"The patient may now awake at any time, but it is probable that fifteen minutes will first elapse. Let the Count and his daughter be summoned."

Maximilian opened the door and beckoned without. Monte-Cristo and Zuleika entered.

"My child," said the Hebrew, taking the latter by the hand and leading her to her lover's bedside, "look upon your betrothed! He is sleeping peacefully and dreaming of you! Awhile ago he uttered your name!

Courage, daughter, courage! The worst is over! The clouds are sweeping from the young man's mind to leave it clear and perfect! Remain here where I place you! It is important that upon awaking the patient's eyes shall rest on you!"

Zuleika, astounded, bewildered, gazed at her lover and with difficulty resisted the impulse to cast herself upon his neck.

Monte-Cristo, Maximilian, Valentine and the Italian physician grouped themselves a short distance away, waiting and watching. Their eagerness and anxiety were intense.

Five minutes, ten minutes pa.s.sed, then fifteen. As Dr. Absalom's watch told the quarter of an hour, the Viscount all at once opened his eyes.

They rested on Zuleika. The anxious interest of the spectators was now at the highest pitch. The Count, M. Morrel, Valentine and the Italian leaned forward breathlessly. Giovanni put his hand to his brow, uttered a low sigh and then sat up, gazing at Monte-Cristo's daughter in bewilderment. At last he spoke.

"Zuleika, darling Zuleika!" he said, faintly, but very tenderly, at the same time extending his arms towards her. The girl glanced at Dr.

Absalom. He pointed to Giovanni and smiled. She instantly comprehended his permission and threw herself into her lover's embrace.

"Giovanni, dear Giovanni," she murmured, "you are yourself again, are you not?"

"Myself, Zuleika? Have I ever been otherwise?"

"You have been very ill, Giovanni."

"Ah! yes. That is the reason I am here." Glancing around him he added: "There is your father, too, but who are those strangers with him?"

"The physicians, and two of our most devoted friends, M. Morrel and his wife."

The Viscount sank back upon the couch and took Zuleika's hand in his, clasping it warmly.

"I feel faint and feeble," he said, "oh! so very faint and feeble, but a terrible, crus.h.i.+ng weight seems to have been removed from my brain!"

He spoke rationally. Dr. Absalom had worked a modern miracle--the young man's reason was fully restored!

The Count and Maximilian exchanged glances of delight. Valentine's eyes were wet with tears of joy. As for Zuleika, her cup of happiness was full. Dr. Absalom smiled placidly. The Italian physician advanced and took him by the hand.

"I congratulate you," said he, cordially. "Your skill is simply amazing!"

The Hebrew bowed profoundly.

"Doctor," said he, "I have fulfilled my promise and my portion of the work is done. The rest remains for you to accomplish. You must resume charge of the patient and restore his strength."

With these words the old savant resumed his hat, saluted all present and, leaning heavily upon his gold-headed cane, pa.s.sed slowly from the apartment.

Monte-Cristo followed him, enthusiastically expressing his grat.i.tude; taking from his pocket a huge roll of bank-bills, he offered it to the Hebrew, but the latter firmly refused to accept.

"I remember the Athenian mob, M. the Count!" said he, impressively.

As they pa.s.sed the director's office, that official came out.

"Well?" said he to Monte-Cristo. "The Jew has failed, of course!"