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Monsieur de Serizy, who had suddenly rushed away while the public prosecutor and the magistrate were talking together, presently returned, having fetched a small jar of virgin wax. With this he dressed his wife's fingers, saying in an undertone:
"Leontine, why did you come here without letting me know?"
"My dear," replied she in a whisper, "forgive me. I seem mad, but indeed your interests were as much involved as mine."
"Love this young fellow if fatality requires it, but do not display your pa.s.sion to all the world," said the luckless husband.
"Well, my dear Countess," said Monsieur de Granville, who had been engaged in conversation with Comte Octave, "I hope you may take Monsieur de Rubempre home to dine with you this evening."
This half promise produced a reaction; Madame de Serizy melted into tears.
"I thought I had no tears left," said she with a smile. "But could you not bring Monsieur de Rubempre to wait here?"
"I will try if I can find the ushers to fetch him, so that he may not be seen under the escort of the gendarmes," said Monsieur de Granville.
"You are as good as G.o.d!" cried she, with a gush of feeling that made her voice sound like heavenly music.
"These are the women," said Comte Octave, "who are fascinating, irresistible!"
And he became melancholy as he thought of his own wife. (See _Honorine_.)
As he left the room, Monsieur de Granville was stopped by young Chargeboeuf, to whom he spoke to give him instructions as to what he was to say to Ma.s.sol, one of the editors of the _Gazette des Tribunaux_.
While beauties, ministers, and magistrates were conspiring to save Lucien, this was what he was doing at the Conciergerie. As he pa.s.sed the gate the poet told the keeper that Monsieur Camusot had granted him leave to write, and he begged to have pens, ink, and paper. At a whispered word to the Governor from Camusot's usher a warder was instructed to take them to him at once. During the short time that it took for the warder to fetch these things and carry them up to Lucien, the hapless young man, to whom the idea of facing Jacques Collin had become intolerable, sank into one of those fatal moods in which the idea of suicide--to which he had yielded before now, but without succeeding in carrying it out--rises to the pitch of mania. According to certain mad-doctors, suicide is in some temperaments the closing phase of mental aberration; and since his arrest Lucien had been possessed by that single idea. Esther's letter, read and reread many times, increased the vehemence of his desire to die by reminding him of the catastrophe of Romeo dying to be with Juliet.
This is what he wrote:--
"_This is my Last Will and Testament_.
"AT THE CONCIERGERIE, May 15th, 1830.
"I, the undersigned, give and bequeath to the children of my sister, Madame Eve Chardon, wife of David Sechard, formerly a printer at Angouleme, and of Monsieur David Sechard, all the property, real and personal, of which I may be possessed at the time of my decease, due deduction being made for the payments and legacies, which I desire my executor to provide for.
"And I earnestly beg Monsieur de Serizy to undertake the charge of being the executor of this my will.
"First, to Monsieur l'Abbe Carlos Herrera I direct the payment of the sum of three hundred thousand francs. Secondly, to Monsieur le Baron de Nucingen the sum of fourteen hundred thousand francs, less seven hundred and fifty thousand if the sum stolen from Mademoiselle Esther should be recovered.
"As universal legatee to Mademoiselle Esther Gobseck, I give and bequeath the sum of seven hundred and sixty thousand francs to the Board of Asylums of Paris for the foundation of a refuge especially dedicated to the use of public prost.i.tutes who may wish to forsake their life of vice and ruin.
"I also bequeath to the Asylums of Paris the sum of money necessary for the purchase of a certificate for dividends to the amount of thirty thousand francs per annum in five per cents, the annual income to be devoted every six months to the release of prisoners for debts not exceeding two thousand francs. The Board of Asylums to select the most respectable of such persons imprisoned for debt.
"I beg Monsieur de Serizy to devote the sum of forty thousand francs to erecting a monument to Mademoiselle Esther in the Eastern cemetery, and I desire to be buried by her side. The tomb is to be like an antique tomb--square, our two effigies lying thereon, in white marble, the heads on pillows, the hands folded and raised to heaven. There is to be no inscription whatever.
"I beg Monsieur de Serizy to give to Monsieur de Rastignac a gold toilet-set that is in my room as a remembrance.
"And as a remembrance, I beg my executor to accept my library of books as a gift from me.
"LUCIEN CHARDON DE RUBEMPRE."
This Will was enclosed in a letter addressed to Monsieur le Comte de Granville, Public Prosecutor in the Supreme Court at Paris, as follows:
"MONSIEUR LE COMTE,--
"I place my Will in your hands. When you open this letter I shall be no more. In my desire to be free, I made such cowardly replies to Monsieur Camusot's insidious questions, that, in spite of my innocence, I may find myself entangled in a disgraceful trial.
Even if I were acquitted, a blameless life would henceforth be impossible to me in view of the opinions of the world.
"I beg you to transmit the enclosed letter to the Abbe Carlos Herrera without opening it, and deliver to Monsieur Camusot the formal retraction I also enclose.
"I suppose no one will dare to break the seal of a packet addressed to you. In this belief I bid you adieu, offering you my best respects for the last time, and begging you to believe that in writing to you I am giving you a token of my grat.i.tude for all the kindness you have shown to your deceased humble servant,
"LUCIEN DE R."
"_To the Abbe Carlos Herrera_.
"MY DEAR ABBE,--I have had only benefits from you, and I have betrayed you. This involuntary ingrat.i.tude is killing me, and when you read these lines I shall have ceased to exist. You are not here now to save me.
"You had given me full liberty, if I should find it advantageous, to destroy you by flinging you on the ground like a cigar-end; but I have ruined you by a blunder. To escape from a difficulty, deluded by a clever question from the examining judge, your son by adoption and grace went over to the side of those who aim at killing you at any cost, and insist on proving an ident.i.ty, which I know to be impossible, between you and a French villain. All is said.
"Between a man of your calibre and me--me of whom you tried to make a greater man than I am capable of being--no foolish sentiment can come at the moment of final parting. You hoped to make me powerful and famous, and you have thrown me into the gulf of suicide, that is all. I have long heard the broad pinions of that vertigo beating over my head.
"As you have sometimes said, there is the posterity of Cain and the posterity of Abel. In the great human drama Cain is in opposition. You are descended from Adam through that line, in which the devil still fans the fire of which the first spark was flung on Eve. Among the demons of that pedigree, from time to time we see one of stupendous power, summing up every form of human energy, and resembling the fevered beasts of the desert, whose vitality demands the vast s.p.a.ces they find there. Such men are as dangerous as lions would be in the heart of Normandy; they must have their prey, and they devour common men and crop the money of fools. Their sport is so dangerous that at last they kill the humble dog whom they have taken for a companion and made an idol of.
"When it is G.o.d's will, these mysterious beings may be a Moses, an Attila, Charlemagne, Mahomet, or Napoleon; but when He leaves a generation of these stupendous tools to rust at the bottom of the ocean, they are no more than a Pugatschef, a Fouche, a Louvel, or the Abbe Carlos Herrera. Gifted with immense power over tenderer souls, they entrap them and mangle them. It is grand, it is fine --in its way. It is the poisonous plant with gorgeous coloring that fascinates children in the woods. It is the poetry of evil. Men like you ought to dwell in caves and never come out of them. You have made me live that vast life, and I have had all my share of existence; so I may very well take my head out of the Gordian knot of your policy and slip it into the running knot of my cravat.
"To repair the mischief I have done, I am forwarding to the public prosecutor a retraction of my deposition. You will know how to take advantage of this doc.u.ment.
"In virtue of a will formally drawn up, rest.i.tution will be made, Monsieur l'Abbe, of the moneys belonging to your Order which you so imprudently devoted to my use, as a result of your paternal affection for me.
"And so, farewell. Farewell, colossal image of Evil and Corruption; farewell--to you who, if started on the right road, might have been greater than Ximenes, greater than Richelieu! You have kept your promises. I find myself once more just as I was on the banks of the Charente, after enjoying, by your help, the enchantments of a dream. But, unfortunately, it is not now in the waters of my native place that I shall drown the errors of a boy; but in the Seine, and my hole is a cell in the Conciergerie.
"Do not regret me: my contempt for you is as great as my admiration.
"LUCIEN."
"_Recantation_.
"I, the undersigned, hereby declare that I retract, without reservation, all that I deposed at my examination to-day before Monsieur Camusot.
"The Abbe Carlos Herrera always called himself my spiritual father, and I was misled by the word father used in another sense by the judge, no doubt under a misapprehension.
"I am aware that, for political ends, and to quash certain secrets concerning the Cabinets of Spain and of the Tuileries, some obscure diplomatic agents tried to show that the Abbe Carlos Herrera was a forger named Jacques Collin; but the Abbe Carlos Herrera never told me anything about the matter excepting that he was doing his best to obtain evidence of the death or of the continued existence of Jacques Collin.
"LUCIEN DE RUBEMPRE.