The Queen's Necklace - Alexandre Dumas père (electric book reader TXT) 📗

was not a court doctor, who understands everything; so, willing to show his knowledge, "Old, sir! this wound is not twenty-four hours old."

Charny raised himself at this, and said, "Do you teach me, sir, when I received my wound?" Then, turning round, he cried, "The king!" and hastened to button his waistcoat.

"Yes, M. de Charny, who fortunately arrived in time to procure you assistance."

"A mere scratch, sire," stammered Charny, "an old wound."

"Old or new," replied Louis, "it has shown me the blood of a brave man."

"Whom a couple of hours in bed will quite restore," continued Charny, trying to rise; but his strength failed him, his head swam, and he sank back again.

"He is very ill," said the king.

"Yes, sire," said the doctor, with importance, "but I can cure him."

The king understood well that M. de Charny wished to hide some secret from him, and determined to respect it. "I do not wish," said he, "that M. de Charny should run the risk of being moved; we will take care of him here. Let M. de Suffren be called, this gentleman recompensed, and my own physician, Dr. Louis, be sent for."

While one officer went to execute these orders, two others carried Charny into a room at the end of the gallery. Dr. Louis and M. de Suffren soon arrived. The latter understood nothing of his nephew's illness. "It is strange," said he; "do you know, doctor, I never knew my nephew ill before."

"That proves nothing," replied the doctor.

"The air of Versailles must be bad for him."

"It is his wound," said one of the officers.

"His wound!" cried M. de Suffren; "he never was wounded in his life."

"Oh, excuse me," said the officer, opening the shirt, covered with blood, "but I thought----"

"Well," said the doctor, who began to see the state of the case, "do not let us lose time disputing over the cause, but see what can be done to cure him."

"Is it dangerous, doctor?" asked M. de Suffren, with anxiety.

"Not at all," replied he.

M. de Suffren took his leave, and left Charny with the doctor. Fever commenced, and before long he was delirious. Three hours after the doctor called a servant, and told him to take Charny in his arms, who uttered doleful cries. "Roll the sheet over his head," said the doctor.

"But," said the man, "he struggles so much that I must ask assistance from one of the guards."

"Are you afraid of a sick man, sir? If he is too heavy for you, you are not strong enough for me. I must send you back to Auvergne." This threat had its effect. Charny, crying, fighting, and gesticulating, was carried by the man through the guards.

Some of the officers questioned the doctor.

"Oh! gentlemen," said he, "this gallery is too far off for me; I must have him in my own rooms."

"But I assure you, doctor, we would all have looked after him here. We all love M. de Suffren."

"Oh yes, I know your sort of care! The sick man is thirsty, and you give him something to drink, and kill him."

"Now there remains but one danger," said the doctor to himself, as he followed Charny, "that the king should want to visit him, and if he hear him---- Diable! I must speak to the queen." The good doctor, therefore, having bathed the head and face of his patient with cold water, and seen him safe in bed, went out and locked the door on him, leaving his servant to look after him. He went towards the queen's apartments, and met Madame de Misery, who had just been despatched to ask after the patient.

"Come with me," he said.

"But, doctor, the queen waits for intelligence."

"I am going to her."

"The queen wishes----"

"The queen shall know all she wishes. I will take care of that."


CHAPTER L.

AEGRI SOMNIA

The queen was expecting the return of Madame de Misery. The doctor entered with his accustomed familiarity. "Madame," he said, "the patient in whom your majesty and the king are interested is as well as any one can be who has a fever."

"Is it a slight wound?" asked the queen.

"Slight or not, he is in a fever."

"Poor fellow!--a bad fever?"

"Terrible!"

"You frighten me; dear doctor; you, who are generally so cheering. Besides, you look about you, as though you had a secret to tell."

"So I have."

"About the fever?"

"Yes."

"To tell me?"

"Yes."

"Speak, then, for I am curious."

"I wait for you to question me, madame."

"Well, how does the fever go on?"

"No; ask me why I have taken him away from the guard's gallery, where the king left him, to my own room."

"Well, I ask. Indeed it is strange."

"Then, madame, I did so, because it is not an ordinary fever."

The queen looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"M. de Charny is delirious already, and in his delirium he says a number of things rather delicate for the gentlemen of the guard to hear."

"Doctor!"

"Oh, madame! you should not question me, if you do not wish to hear my answers."

"Well, then, dear doctor, is he an atheist? Does he blaspheme?"

"Oh, no! he is on the contrary a devotee."

The queen assumed a look of sang-froid. "M. de Charny," she said, "interests me. He is the nephew of M. de Suffren, and has besides rendered me personal services. I wish to be a friend to him. Tell me, therefore, the exact truth."

"But I cannot tell you, madame. If your majesty wishes to know, the only way is to hear him yourself."

"But if he says such strange things?"

"Things which your majesty ought to hear."

"But," said the queen, "I cannot move a step here, without some charitable spy watching me."

"I will answer for your security. Come through my private way, and I will lock the door after us."

"I trust to you, then, dear doctor." And she followed him, burning with curiosity.

When they reached the second door the doctor put his ear to the keyhole.

"Is your patient in there, doctor?"

"No, madame, or you would have heard him at the end of the corridor. Even here you can hear his voice."

"He groans."

"No, he speaks loud and distinct."

"But I cannot go in to him."

"I do not mean you to do so. I only wish you to listen in the adjoining room, where you will hear without being seen." They went on, and the doctor entered the sick-room alone.

Charny, still dressed in his uniform, was making fruitless efforts to rise, and was repeating to himself his interview with the German lady in the coach. "German!" he cried--"German! Queen of France!"

"Do you hear, madame?"

"It is frightful," continued Charny, "to love an angel, a woman--to love her madly--to be willing to give your life for her; and when you come near her, to find her only a queen--of velvet and of gold, of metal and of silk, and no heart."

"Oh! oh!" cried the doctor again.

"I love a married woman!" Charny went on, "and with that wild love which, makes me forget everything else. Well, I will say to her, there remain for us still some happy days on this earth. Come, my beloved, and we will live the life of the blessed, if we love each other. Afterwards there will be death--better than a life like this. Let us love at least."

"Not badly reasoned for a man in a fever," said the doctor.

"But her children!" cried Charny suddenly, with fury; "she will not leave her children. Oh! we will carry them away also. Surely I can carry her, she is so light, and her children too." Then he gave a terrible cry: "But they are the children of a king!"

The doctor left his patient and approached the queen.

"You are right, doctor," said she; "this young man would incur a terrible danger if he were overheard."

"Listen again," said the doctor.

"Oh, no more."

But just then Charny said, in a gentler voice:

"Marie, I feel that you love me, but I will say nothing about it. Marie, I felt the touch of your foot in the coach; your hand touched mine, but I will never tell; I will keep this secret with my life. My blood may all flow away, Marie, but my secret shall not escape with it. My enemy steeped his sword in my blood, but if he has guessed my secret, yours is safe. Fear nothing, Marie, I do not even ask you if you love me; you blushed, that is enough."

"Oh!" thought the doctor; "this sounds less like delirium than like memory."

"I have heard enough," cried the queen, rising and trembling violently; and she tried to go.

The doctor stopped her. "Madame," said he, "what do you wish?"

"Nothing, doctor, nothing."

"But if the king ask to see my patient?"

"Oh! that would be dreadful!"

"What shall I say?"

"Doctor, I cannot think; this dreadful spectacle has confused me."

"I think you have caught his fever," said the doctor, feeling her pulse.

She drew away her hand, and escaped.


CHAPTER LI.

ANDREE.

The doctor remained thoughtful, then said to himself,--"There are other difficulties here besides those I can contend with by science." He bathed again the temples of his patient, who for the time began to grow calmer.

All at once the doctor heard the rustling of a dress outside. "Can it be the queen returned?" thought he; and opening the door softly, he saw before him the motionless figure of a woman, looking like a statue of despair. It was almost dark; he advanced suddenly along the corridor to the place where the figure was standing. On seeing him, she uttered a cry.

"Who is there?" asked Doctor Louis.

"I, doctor!" replied a sweet and sorrowful voice--a voice that he knew but could not immediately recognize. "I, Andree de Taverney," continued she.

"Oh, mon Dieu! what is the matter?" cried the doctor; "is she ill?"

"She! who?"

The doctor felt that he had committed an imprudence.

"Excuse me, but I saw a lady going away just now, perhaps it was you."

"Oh, yes, there has been a lady here before me, has there not?" asked Andree, in a tone of emotion.

"My dear child," replied the doctor, "of whom do you speak? what do you want to know?"

"Doctor," answered Andree, in a sorrowful voice, "you always speak the truth, do not deceive me now; I am sure there was a woman here before me."

"Doubtless. Why should I deceive you? Madame de Misery was here."

"It was Madame de Misery who came?"

"Certainly; what makes you doubt? What inexplicable beings women are."

"Dear doctor."

"Well, but to the point. Is she worse?"

"Who?"

"Pardieu, the queen."

"The queen!"

"Yes, the queen, for whom Madame de Misery came to fetch me, and who was troubled with her palpitations. If you come from her, tell me, and we will go back together."

"No, doctor, I do not come from the queen, and was even ignorant