Sir Jasper Carew Part 41

It was not until some minutes had elapsed that I saw he had ceased to breathe, for his eyes seemed to stare with meaning on me, and his countenance remained unchanged. At length, however, I became conscious that the struggle was over, and his spirit had pa.s.sed away forever. The stillness of the room was terrible, for not a stir broke it; and I knelt down beside Marguerite to pray.

"Here is the surgeon, mademoiselle," said Lizette, hurriedly; and an old man drew nigh the bed and touched the wrist of the dead man.

"Ma foi!" said he, "this is the fourth time I have been sent for to-day on a like errand;" and, so saying, he tapped me on the shoulder, and motioned me to follow him.

I obeyed at once.

"Are you his son?" asked he, briefly.

"No," I replied.

"His nephew?--his clerk, then?"

"Neither; I am a lodger here, and do not even claim acquaintance with the family."

"No matter," resumed he, dryly, "you will do as well as another; give me pen and paper."

I took some from an open portfolio on the table and laid it before him, and he wrote rapidly a few lines in a straggling hand:--

"The citizen Louis Bernois, age--; domiciled, Rue Neuve de Viardot, No.

318, avocat,"--"we may call him _avocat_, though he was only a writer,"

said he, looking up,--"wounded fatally in the lungs and heart, and attended till his death, on this morning, by the doctor Joseph Caillot, surgeon and licentiate. The above verified by me."--"Sign here," added he, handing me the pen, "and put your quality. Say, 'Friend of the family.'"

"But I never knew them; I have only lodged in the house for some months back."

"What signifies that? It is a mere form for the authorities, to whom his death must be reported, or his family exposed to trouble and annoyance.

I will take it to the bureau myself."

I signed my name, therefore, as he directed me, and sealed the "act"

with a seal I found on the table. The doctor pocketed the paper and withdrew, not even bestowing on me a good-bye as he left the room.

Lizette came to me for instructions as to what was to be done. Madame had never recovered consciousness from the very first moment of the misfortune; mademoiselle was too young and too inexperienced to be consulted on the occasion. The family, too, had only been a few months in Paris, and had no acquaintance save with the tradespeople they dealt with.

I asked the name of the _avocat_ for whom he usually transcribed the deeds and papers, and learned that it was a certain Monsieur le Monnier, a lawyer of high standing at the bar of Paris, and who lived in the Rue Quincampoix! With what a strange sensation I heard the name of that street, which was the same that Herr Robert spoke of as inhabited by his father in the days of his greatest prosperity! The thought merely shot through my head rapidly, for other and far more pressing considerations demanded all my attention. I resolved at once to call on Monsieur le Monnier and ask his advice and guidance in the difficult position I then found myself. Dressing myself with all the care my scanty wardrobe permitted, I set out for the Rue Quincampoix, and soon found the house, which was a large and s.p.a.cious though somewhat sombre-looking hotel, with a half-effaced shield over the doorway. The porter inquired if I came on business; and on my saying "Yes," informed me that I must call on the following morning, from eleven to two o'clock,--that the "batonnier," for such was his rank, did not transact affairs in the evening.

I argued and pressed my suit with all zeal; but it was only when I produced a piece of two francs that he consented to present my card, on which I had written a few lines to explain the urgent cause of my visit.

After a long and most impatient waiting a servant came to Bay that monsieur would receive me, and I followed him up a s.p.a.cious but dimly lighted stair, and across a long dreary gallery, where a single lamp shone, into a small chamber fitted up like a study. Here, although it was autumn, the "batonnier" was seated beside a brisk fire, enjoying his coffee. He was a small man, with a ma.s.sive, well-shaped head covered with a profusion of snow-white hair, which he wore in such careless fashion as to make his head appear even much larger than it was; his features were pleasing, and his eyes were singularly soft and gentle-looking. With a voice of peculiar sweetness, and in a low tone, he welcomed me and desired me to be seated. This done, he begged me to state the object of my visit.

In the very fewest words I could relate it, I mentioned the sad circ.u.mstances about which I came, told my own difficulty in the matter, and asked for advice.

"At any other moment," said he, when I concluded, "your task would be an easy one. You could report the event to the 'commissaire' of the 'Quarter,' state what you know, and withdraw from the affair altogether.

Now, however, the troubles in which we live excite suspicions in every mind. Your name will be a.s.sociated with the opinions for which this poor man has given his life. The authorities will be on your track at every moment, and every act of your life watched and reported. With whom were you acquainted in Paris?"

"With none."

He stared with some surprise; and I told him briefly the circ.u.mstances of my own situation.

"A strange story indeed!" said he, taking up my card from the chimney-piece. "And your name, for I cannot decipher it here, is--"

"Carew,--Jasper Carew."

"That name is Irish, if I mistake not," said he; "at least I remember, some twenty years ago, we had here a distinguished stranger who came from Ireland, and was called Carew. He was the fashionable celebrity of a very famous period."

"He was my father, sir."

The old lawyer bowed and smiled; but though the gesture was eminently polite, the shrewd twinkle of his eyes bespoke incredulity. I saw this, and said at once,--

"I have many letters of his, dated from the 'Place Vendome,' No. 13, where he lived."

"Indeed!" cried he, in astonishment. "You possess these at present?"

"Some few I have with me; others, a large number, are in the keeping of my friends, as well as notes and papers in the hand of the late Duc d'Orleans, with whom my father appeared to live on considerable intimacy."

"That I can vouch for myself," said the _avocat_, hastily; then, suddenly correcting himself, added,--"Perhaps you would give me a sight of some of these doc.u.ments. I do not ask from any impertinent curiosity, but with the conviction that I can be of some service to you."

I readily promised to do so, and the following day was named for the purpose.

"Now, for the present case," said he. "I know nothing of Monsieur Bernois beyond what a client of mine from the Auvergnat told me. He was the son of a poor farmer near Linange, who studied the law at Paris, went back to his native village and married, and, after some years of failure at home, came here to make his fortune. I employed him partly from motives of charity, for he was irregular in his habits of work, and seemed overcome by a depression that rendered him often incapable of all exertion. Make what arrangements you think suitable for his burial, and then induce his poor widow and daughter to return home. Call upon me for any expenses that may be needed, and say that I will send one of my clerks to make an inventory of his effects and draw up the 'proces' the law requires."

There was a mingled kindness and commonplace in the way he spoke this that left me in doubt which of the two frames of mind predominated in his nature. At all events, I had good reason to be satisfied with my reception, and, resisting his invitation to stay to supper, I hastened back to the Rue de Viardot.

The poor widow still remained in the state of stupor in which I first saw her; but Marguerite's grief had taken a more violent form, and the terrible shock had brought on brain-fever,--at least, so Lizette p.r.o.nounced it. My sad duties were thus multiplied by the cares of the sick-room, for Lizette threw all upon me, and would do nothing without my guidance and advice.

By great exertions, and by working all night through, I reduced the affairs of the family to a condition of order; and when Monsieur le Monnier's clerk appeared in the morning, I had already compiled the inventory and drawn up the "acte de deces," as it is called, for the authorities.

By searching amongst papers I also found the address of the widow's father, who lived in the village of "Linange," and to him I wrote a few lines, acquainting him with what had occurred, and asking his counsel with regard to the family. Though Lizette had accompanied them from their native village to Paris, she was greatly indisposed to afford any information as to their circ.u.mstances or condition in life, and seemed only eager to complete all the formalities of the law and quit the capital. I certainly did not impose any unfair burden upon her incommunicative disposition. I asked a few questions,--none that were not in a measure indispensable.

I suppose my reserve in this wise impressed her favorably, for she grew gradually more and more open, dropping hints of sad circ.u.mstances and calamities, in a way that seemed half to invite inquiry on my part. I was resolved, however, not to make any advances, and left her entirely to her own choice as to what revelations she might make me. I have no doubt that had my object been to gratify my curiosity, I could not have hit upon any surer means of success.

We laid the remains of poor Bernois in a little graveyard outside the Porte St. Denis; Lizette and myself the only mourners that followed the bier! As I slowly ascended the stairs towards my room, I said,--

"Come to me this evening, Lizette, and say if I can be of any further service to you, since I mean to leave Paris to-morrow."

"To leave Paris!" cried she; "Grand Dieu!--why, and for where?"

"For Switzerland," replied I. "My friends there have not answered my letters for some time back, and I have determined to set off and see them."

"But why not write again? Think of what a journey it is!"

"I have written till I have lost all hope. I must satisfy myself by going in person."

"But you will not leave us helpless, friendless, as we are!" cried she.

Never till that moment had it occurred to me that my a.s.sistance could avail to any one, or that there existed one in the world humble enough to be benefited by my guidance. The appeal, however, gave me a self-confidence and an energy which I had not felt before, and I listened to the explanations of the old servant with every desire to aid her.

She judged rightly enough that as soon as removal were possible, the safest course would be for the widow and her daughter to return to their village.

"I know," added she, "that this is not to be effected without difficulty. 'Madame' will oppose it to the last; and it may be that nothing short of force will accomplish it."