Mysteries of Paris
Chapter 175 : The lady pressed the hand of Rudolph to her dying lips in an ecstasy of joy and grat.i

The lady pressed the hand of Rudolph to her dying lips in an ecstasy of joy and grat.i.tude, and said, "Let the clergyman come in, my friend, and tell him that afterward he must stay. I feel myself very weak."

This scene was heart-rending; Rudolph opened the folding-doors, and the clergyman entered, followed by the witnesses. All the actors in this sad scene were grave and sad; M. de Lucenay himself had forgotten his habitual frivolity. The contract of marriage between the most ill.u.s.trious and very puissant prince, His Serene Highness, Gustavus Rudolph V., reigning Grand Duke of Gerolstein, and Sarah Seyton of Halsbury, Countess M'Gregor, had been prepared by the care of Baron de Graun: it was read by him, and signed by the bride and groom and their witnesses. Notwithstanding the repentance of the countess, when the clergyman said, with a solemn voice, to Rudolph, "Does your royal highness consent to take for wife Madame Sarah Seyton of Halsbury, Countess M'Gregor?" and the prince had answered "YES!" with a loud and firm voice, the deathlike countenance of the lady brightened; a rapid and transitory expression of triumphant pride pa.s.sed over her livid features; it was the last flash of the ambition which died with her. During this sad and imposing ceremony, not a word was uttered by the witnesses.

When it was finished, they all came forward, profoundly saluted the prince, and retired.

"Brother," said Sarah in a low tone, "beg the clergyman to have the goodness to wait a moment in the adjoining room."

"How do you feel now, my sister? you are very pale."

"I am sure to live now--am I not the Grand d.u.c.h.ess of Gerolstein?" added she, with a bitter smile.

Remaining alone with Rudolph, Sarah murmured, in an exhausted voice, while her features changed in an alarming manner, "My strength is gone. I feel that I am dying--I shall never see her."

"Yes, yes, calm yourself, Sarah--you will see her."

"I have no more hope--this delay--oh! it needs a strength superhuman. My sight fails already."

"Sarah!" said the prince, approaching, and taking her hands within his own, "she will come--now she cannot delay."

"G.o.d has not willed this last consolation."

"Sarah, listen--listen. I hear a carriage--yes--it is she; here is your child!"

"Rudolph, you will not tell her that I was a bad mother?" articulated the countess, slowly. The noise of a carriage resounded on the pavement of the court. The countess could not hear it. Her words were more and more incoherent. Rudolph leaned over her with anxiety; he saw her eyes covered with a film.

"Pardon--my child--see, my child--pardon--at least--after my death--the honors--of--my--rank----" These were her last intelligible words. The fixed, predominating thought of her whole life returned again, notwithstanding her sincere repentance. At this moment Murphy entered the room.

"Your highness, the Princess Marie----"

"No," cried Rudolph, quickly, "let her not enter. Tell Seyton to bring the clergyman." Then, pointing to Sarah, who was gradually expiring, Rudolph added, "Heaven refuses her the last consolation of embracing her child."

Half an hour afterward, the Countess M'Gregor had ceased to exist.

CHAPTER XXIV.

BICETRE.

Fifteen days had pa.s.sed since Rudolph, by marrying the Countess M'Gregor _in extremis_, had legitimatized the birth of Fleur-de-Marie. It was Mid-Lent. This date being established, we will conduct the reader to Bicetre. This immense establishment, founded for the treatment of the insane, serves also as a place of refuge for seven or eight hundred poor old men, who are admitted when they have reached the age of seventy, or are afflicted with any very serious infirmity. On arriving at Bicetre, the visitor enters at first a vast court planted with large trees, and divided into gra.s.s plots, ornamented in summer with flower borders. Nothing could be more cheerful, more peaceful, or more salubrious than this promenade, which was specially designed for the indigent old men of whom we have spoken. It surrounds the buildings, in which, on the first floor, are found the s.p.a.cious sleeping apartments; and on the ground floor, the dining halls, kept in admirable order, where the pensioners of Bicetre eat, in common, most excellent food, prepared with great care, thanks to the paternal solicitude of the directors of this establishment. To enumerate completely the different purposes for which this inst.i.tution is designed, we mention that, at the time of which we speak, the condemned prisoners were brought here after their sentence. It was in one of the cells of this house that Widow Martial and her daughter Calabash awaited the moment of their execution, which was fixed for the next day. Nicholas, Skeleton, and several other scoundrels, had succeeded in making their escape from La Force.

We have already said that nothing could be more cheerful than the approach to this edifice, when, on coming from Paris, one entered it by the poorhouse yard. Thanks to a forward spring, the elms and the lindens were already beginning to shoot forth their leaves; the large plots of gra.s.s were of a luxuriant growth; here and there the flower beds were enameled with crocuses, primroses, and auriculas. The sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly, and the old pensioners, dressed in gray coats, were walking up and down, or seated on the benches; their placid countenances expressed calmness, or a kind of tranquil indifference. Eleven o'clock had just struck, when two carriages stopped before the outer gate: from the first descended Madame George, Germain, and Rigolette; from the second, Louise Morel and her mother. Germain and Rigolette had been married a fortnight. We will leave the reader to imagine the saucy gayety, the lively happiness, which shone in the blooming visage of the grisette, whose rosy lips were only opened to smile or embrace Madame George, whom she called her mother. The features of Germain expressed a felicity more calm, more reflecting, more grave; there was mingled with it a feeling of profound grat.i.tude, almost of respect, toward this n.o.ble and excellent girl, who had offered him in prison consolations so sustaining and delightful, which Rigolette did not seem to recollect the least in the world; thus, as soon as Germain turned the conversation on this subject, she spoke of something else, saying these recollections made her sad. Although she had become Madame Germain, and Rudolph had settled on her forty thousand francs, Rigolette had not been willing (and her husband was of the same opinion) to change her grisette cap for a hat. Certainly, never had humility served better an innocent coquetry; for nothing could be more becoming, more elegant, than her little cap, ornamented on each side with orange bows, which contrasted well with her s.h.i.+ning black hair, now worn in long ringlets, since she had _time_ to put them in paper; around her charming neck she wore a richly-embroidered collar and a scarf of French cashmere of the same shade as the ribbons of her cap, which half concealed her fine person; and although she wore no corset, according to her usual custom, her dress showed not the slightest wrinkle on her slender figure. Madame George contemplated her son and Rigolette with quiet happiness.

Louise Morel, after a rigid examination and autopsy of her child, had been set at liberty; the beautiful features of the daughter of the lapidary expressed a kind of sad and melancholy resignation. Thanks to the generosity of Rudolph, and the care and attention which he had caused to be shown her, the mother of Louise Morel, who accompanied her, had recovered her health. The porter at the gate had asked Madame George whom she desired to see; she replied that one of the physicians of the asylum for the insane had made an appointment with her and her friends at eleven o'clock. Madame George had the option either to wait for the doctor in an office which was pointed out to her, or in the court of which we have spoken. She chose the latter; leaning on the arm of her son, and continuing to converse with the wife of the lapidary, she walked in the garden, Louise and Rigolette following at a short distance.

"How happy I am to see you, dear Louise!" said the grisette. "Just now when we went to seek you in the Rue du Temple on our arrival from Bouqueval, I wished to go up and see you; but my husband did not wish it, saying it was high up; I waited in the cab. Your vehicle followed ours, so that I now see you for the first time since---"

"Since you came to see me in prison. Ah! Miss Rigolette," cried Louise, "what a kind heart! what--"

"In the first place, my good Louise," said the grisette, interrupting gayly the daughter of the lapidary, in order to escape her thanks, "I am no more Miss Rigolette, but Madame Germain. I do not know if you are aware of it, and I am proud of it!"

"Yes, I knew you were married. But let me thank you again--"

"That of which you are most completely ignorant, my good Louise," replied Madame Germain, again interrupting the daughter of Morel, in order to change the course of her ideas: "that of which you are ignorant is, that I am married, thanks to the generosity of him who has been our Providence--mine as well as yours!"

"M. Rudolph! Oh! we bless him every day! When I came out of prison, the lawyer whom he sent to see me told me that (owing to M. Rudolph, who had already done so much for us) M. Ferrand," the poor creature shuddered, "M.

Ferrand, to make amends for his cruelties, had settled some money on my father and me--my poor father, who is still here, but who, thanks to G.o.d, gets better and better."

"And who will return with us to-day to Paris, if the hopes of the worthy doctor are realized."

"May heaven grant it!"

"It will grant it. Your father is so good and honest! I am sure that we will take him back with us. The doctor thinks that now a great effort must be made, and that the unexpected presence of several persons whom your father was accustomed to see almost daily before he lost his reason may effect a cure. As for me, in my poor judgment, it appears certain."

"I dare hardly believe it, Miss--"

"Mrs. Germain--Mrs. Germain, if it is all the same to you, my good Louise.

But to return to what I was speaking about: you do not know who M. Rudolph is?"

"He is the Providence of the unfortunate!"

"It is true; and what then? you do not know. Well, I am going to tell you."

Then, addressing her husband, who was walking near her, Rigolette cried, "Do not go so fast, my dear!--you fatigue our good mother; and, besides, I prefer to have you nearer to me."

Germain turned round, lessening his pace a little, and smiled on Rigolette who playfully threw him a kiss.

"How genteel my little Germain is! is he not, Louise? With that air so stylis.h.!.+ such a fine figure! was I not right when I found him more to my liking than M. Girandeau, the traveling clerk, or M. Cabrion? Oh! speaking of Cabrion--M. Pipelet and his wife? where are they? The doctor said they ought to come also, because your father often p.r.o.nounces their names."

"They will not long delay. When I left the house, they had been gone for a long time."

"Oh! then they will not fail to be here; for M. Pipelet is as punctual as a clock. But let us return to my marriage and to M. Rudolph. Only think, Louise, it was he who sent me with the order for Germain's release. You can imagine our joy on leaving that dreadful prison! We reached my room, and there, aided by Germain, I arranged a slight repast, but a repast for real gourmands. It is true, it was of no great use to us, for when we had finished, we had neither of us eaten anything--we were too happy. At eleven o'clock, Germain went away; we agreed to meet the next morning. At five o'clock I was up and at work, for I was two days behindhand. At eight o'clock some one knocked; I opened; who should come in but M. Rudolph. At once I began to thank him from the bottom of my heart for what he had done for Germain; he would not let me finish. 'My neighbor,' said he to me, 'Germain will soon be here; give him this letter. You and he will take a cab, and go at once to a little village called Bouqueval, near Ecouen, on the St. Denis Road. Once there, you will ask for Madame George; and I wish you much pleasure.' 'M. Rudolph, I am going to tell you it will be another day lost, and, without any reproach, this will make three.' 'Rea.s.sure yourself, my neighbor; there is some work for you at Madame George's, whom you will find an excellent customer.' 'If that is so, very good, M.

Rudolph.' 'Adieu, neighbor.' 'Adieu, and thank you, neighbor.' He went, and Germain arrived. I told him what had occurred; M. Rudolph could not deceive us; we got into a carriage, as frolicsome as children--we, who were so sad the day previous. Well! we arrive. Oh! my good Louise--hold! in spite of myself the tears will come to my eyes. This Madame George whom you see before us is the mother of Germain."

"His mother?"

"Dear me! yes, his own mother, from whom her child had been carried off when quite young, and whom she had no hope of ever seeing again. You can imagine their happiness. After Madame George had wept much, and embraced her son, it was my turn. M. Rudolph had written many fine things about me, for she told me, as she held me in her arms, that she knew of my conduct toward her son. 'And if you wish, mother,' said Germain, 'Rigolette shall be your daughter also.' 'If I wish it, my children? with all my heart. I know you will never find a better or nicer little wife.' Behold me, then, installed in a fine farm with Germain, his mother, and my birds, which I sent for, poor little things, so that they should be of the party. Although I do not like the country, the days pa.s.sed so quickly, that it was like a dream; I only worked for my pleasure; I a.s.sisted Madame George, I walked with Germain, I sung, I jumped; it was enough to make one crazy. At length our marriage was fixed for two weeks ago yesterday. Two days previous, who should arrive in a fine carriage but a stout, bald gentleman, with a very good-natured look, who brought me from M. Rudolph a wedding gift. Just imagine, Louise, a large rosewood box, with these words written in gold on a plate of blue enamel: 'Industry and Virtue, Love and Happiness.' I opened the box; what did I find? some small lace caps like the one I have on, dress patterns, jewels, gloves, this scarf, a beautiful shawl; in fine, it was like a real fairy tale."

"It is true, it is like a real fairy tale; but, do you see, to have been so good, so industrious, has brought you happiness."

"As to being good and industrious, my dear Louise, I have not been so purposely; it has so happened: so much the better for me. But this is not all: at the bottom of the box I discovered a handsome portfolio, with these words, 'Neighbor to Neighbor.' I opened it: there were two packages, one for Germain, the other for me; in Germain's I found a paper, which named him director of a Bank for the Poor, with a salary of 4,000 francs; in the envelope directed to me, there was a check for 40,000 francs on the--on the Treasury; yes, that is it; this was my marriage portion. I wished to refuse it, but Madame George, who had talked with the tall, bald gentleman and with Germain, said to me, 'My child, you can, and ought to accept it; it is the recompense of your virtue, your industry, and of your devotion to those who suffer; for it is only by depriving yourself of your usual hours of repose, at the risk of making yourself sick, and thus losing your sole means of subsistence, that you have been able to go and console your unfortunate friends.'"

"Oh! that is very true," cried Louise; "there is no one else like you, at least, Miss--Mrs. Germain."

"Very good! I told the bald gentleman that what I had done was my pleasure; he answered, 'No matter! M. Rudolph is immensely rich; your marriage portion on his part is a testimony of esteem and friends.h.i.+p; your refusal would cause him great sorrow; he will be present at your marriage, and will force you to accept.' What happiness that so much wealth should be in the possession of a person as charitable as M. Rudolph!"

"Doubtless he is very rich, but if that were all--"

"Oh! my good Louise, if you only knew who M. Rudolph is! and I made him carry my bundles! But patience! you shall see. The evening before the marriage, very late, the bald gentleman arrived, having traveled post. M.