Back Aa

Marie Antoinette Romances, Vol 2: The Mesmerist's Victim

Close

<h2>CHAPTER XXXI. THE TRIAL.</h2> THE parlor was well lighted, and Balsamo entering could see the grim air of the five men who kept their seats until he was before them and bowed. Then they all rose and returned the salute. He took an armchair facing theirs without appearing to remark that theirs formed a horse-shoe in front of his so that he occupied the place of the culprit at a trial. He did not speak first as he would have done on another occasion. From the painful dulness which succeeded the shock to him he looked without seeing. “You seem to have understood what we come for, brother,” said the man who held the central chair: “yet you were long coming and we were deliberating if we should not send for you.” “I do not understand you,” simply replied the mesmerist. “That did not seem so when you took the place of the accused.” “Accused?” faltered the other, vaguely. “Still I do not understand.” “It will not be hard to make you do so,” said the chief officer: “judging by your pale front, dull eyes and tremulous voice. Do you not hear me?” “Yes, I hear,” was the reply, while he shook his head to drive away the thoughts oppressing him. “Do you remember, brother,” said the president, “that at the last meeting, the Superior Committee gave you warning of treason meditated by one of the main upholders of the Order?” “Perhaps so, I do not know.” “You answer as with a perturbed and tumultuous conscience. But recover—do not be cast down. Answer with the clearness and preciseness which a dreadful position demands. Answer with such certainty that you will convince us, for we come with no more hatred than prejudice. We are the Law. It speaks not till after the judges pronounce.” Balsamo made no reply. Seeing the calm and immobility of the accused, the others stared at him not without astonishment, before fastening their eyes on the chief again. “You are warned. Protect yourself, for I resume. “After this warning the Order delegated five of the members to watch at Paris about him who was designated as a traitor. It was not easy to watch a man like you, whose power was to enter everywhere. You had at your disposal all the means, which are immense, of our association, given for the triumph of our cause. But we respected the mystery of your conduct as you fluctuated between the adherents of Dubarry, of Richelieu and Rohan. But three days ago, five warrants of arrest, signed by the King and put in motion by Sartines, were presented on the same day to five of our principal agents, very faithful and devoted brothers who have been taken away. Two are put in solitary confinement in the Bastile, two at Vincennes Castle, in the dungeons, and one is in Bicetre in the deepest cell. Did you know of this?” “No,” replied the accused. “Strange, with the close connections you have with royalty. But this is stranger still. To arrest those friends, Sartines must have had the note naming them, the only one, under Arabian characters, which was addressed to the Supreme Circle in 1769, when you received them and gave them the grade assigned to them. But the sixth name was the Count of Fenix’s.” “I grant that,” said Balsamo. “Then how comes it that they five should be arrested as by that list while you were spared? you deserved prison as well as they. What have you to answer?” “Nothing.” “Your pride survives your honor. The police discovered those names in reading our papers which you kept in a casket. One day a woman came out of your house with this casket and went to the Chief of Police. Thus all was discovered. Is this true?” “Perfectly true.” The president stood up. “Who was this woman?” he said. “A fair and passionate one devoted to you body and soul and affectionately loved. Lorenza Feliciani is your wife, Balsamo.” He groaned in despair. “A quarter of an hour after she called on the head of the police, you called in your turn. She had sown the seed and you were to gather the harvest. An obedient servant she committed the treachery and you had but to give the finishing touches to the infernal work. Lorenza came out alone. No doubt you arranged this and did not want to be compromised by her company. You came out triumphantly with Lady Dubarry, called there to receive from your mouth the information which she was to pay. You got into the carriage of this courtesan, leaving the papers which ruined us in the hands of Lord Sartines but carrying away the empty casket. Happily we saw you. The light of the All-seeing Eye did not fail us on all occasions.” Balsamo bowed still without remark. “I conclude,” said the chief judge. “Two guilty ones are pointed out: the woman who was your accomplice and may have unwittingly injured us by conveying the revelations of our secrets; the second, yourself the Grand Copt, the luminous ray who had the cowardice to let your wife shield you in this deed of treason.” Balsamo slowly raised his pale face, and fixed on the speaker a glance with the fire in it which had accumulated while the speech was made. “Why do you accuse this woman?” he demanded. “We know that you will try to defend her; that you love her to idolatry and prefer her above all. She is your treasure of science, happiness and fortune; the most precious of your instruments.” “You know this?” “And that in striking her we hurt you more than in striking you. This is the sentence, then: Joseph Balsamo is a traitor. He has broken his oath, but his science is immense and useful to the Order. He ought to live for the cause he has betrayed; he belongs still to his brothers though he has renounced them. A perpetual prison will protect the society against future perfidy, and at the same time let the brothers gather the gain due to them if only as a forfeit. As for Lorenza Feliciani, a dreadful doom—— ” “Stay,” said Balsamo, with the greatest calm in his voice. “You are forgetting that I have not defended myself. The accused ought to have a hearing in his justification. One word will suffice—one piece of evidence. Wait for me one moment while I bring the proof I speak of.” The judges consulted an instant. “Do you fear that I will commit suicide?” said the accused with a bitter smile. “I wear a ring that would kill this room-full of people were I to open it. Do you fear that I will flee? Let me be escorted, if that be your fear.” “Go,” said the president. For only a while did the prisoner disappear; then they heard his step descending the stairs, heavily. He entered. On his shoulder was the cold discolored, rigid corpse of Lorenza, with her white hand sweeping the floor. “As you said, this woman—whom I adored and was my treasure, my only joy, my very life—she betrayed us,” he said: “here she is—take her! The High Justicer of heaven did not wait for you to come and slay her.” With a movement as swift as lightning, he slid the corpse out of his arms, and rolled it to the feet of the judges. The dark hair and inert hands struck them with all their profound horror while by the lamplight the wound glared with its ominous red, deeply yawning in the midst of the swan-white neck. “Utter your sentence, now,” said Balsamo. Aghast, the judges uttered a terror-stricken cry, and fled dizzily in confusion inexpressible. The horses of their carriage and escort were heard neighing in the yard and trampling; the carriage-gate groaned on its hinges and then solemn silence sat once more on the abode of death and despair. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2