by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXV. THE MURDERERS.
The quarryman, followed by his gang, ran towards Gabriel, who hadadvanced a few paces from the choir-railing, and exclaimed, his eyessparkling with rage: "Where is the poisoner? We will have him!"
"Who has told you, my brethren, that he is a poisoner?" repliedGabriel, with his deep, sonorous voice. "A poisoner! Where are theproofs--witnesses or victims?"
"Enough of that stuff! we are not here for confession," brutallyanswered the quarryman, advancing towards him in a threatening manner."Give up the man to us; he shall be forthcoming, unless you choose tostand in his shoes?"
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed several voices; "they are 'in' with one another!One or the other we will have!"
"Very well, then; since it is so," said Gabriel, raising his head, andadvancing with calmness, resignation; and fearlessness; "he or me,"added he;--"it seems to make no difference to you--you are determinedto have blood--take mine, and I will pardon you, my friends; for a fataldelusion has unsettled your reason."
These words of Gabriel, his courage, the nobleness of his attitude,the beauty of his countenance, had made an impression on some ofthe assailants, when suddenly a voice exclaimed: "Look! there is thepoisoner, behind the railing!"
"Where--where?" cried they.
"There--don't you see?--stretched on the floor."
On hearing this, the mob, which had hitherto formed a compact mass, inthe sort of passage separating the two sides of the nave, between therows of chairs, dispersed in every direction, to reach the railingof the choir, the last and only barrier that now sheltered Fatherd'Aigrigny. During this manoeuvre the quarryman, Ciboule, and others,advanced towards Gabriel, exclaiming, with ferocious joy: "This time wehave him. Death to the poisoner!"
To save Father d'Aigrigny, Gabriel would have allowed himself to bemassacred at the entrance of the choir; but, a little further on, therailing, not above four feet in height, would in another instant bescaled or broken through. The Missionary lost all hope of saving theJesuit from a frightful death. Yet he exclaimed: "Stop, poor deludedpeople!"--and, extending his arms, he threw himself in front of thecrowd.
His words, gesture, and countenance, were expressive of an authorityat once so affectionate and so fraternal, that there was a momentaryhesitation amongst the mob. But to this hesitation soon succeeded themost furious cries of "Death; death!"
"You cry for his death?" cried Gabriel, growing still paler.
"Yes! yes!"
"Well, let him die," cried the missionary, inspired with a suddenthought; "let him die on the instant!"
These words of the young priest struck the crowd with amazement. For afew moments, they all stood mute, motionless, and as it were, paralyzed,looking at Gabriel in stupid astonishment.
"This man is guilty, you say," resumed the young missionary, in a voicetrembling with emotion. "You have condemned him without proof, withoutwitnesses--no matter, he must die. You reproach him with being apoisoner; where are his victims? You cannot tell--but no matter; he iscondemned. You refuse to hear his defense, the sacred right of everyaccused person--no matter; the sentence is pronounced. You are at oncehis accusers, judges, and executioners. Be it so!--You have never seentill now this unfortunate man, he has done you no harm, he has perhapsnot done harm to any one--yet you take upon yourselves the terribleresponsibility of his death--understand me well--of his death. Be it sothen! your conscience will absolve you--I will believe it. He must die;the sacredness of God's house will not save him--"
"No, no!" cried many furious voices.
"No," resumed Gabriel, with increasing warmth; "no you have determinedto shed his blood, and you will shed it, even in the Lord's temple. Itis, you say, your right. You are doing an act of terrible justice. Butwhy then, so many vigorous arms to make an end of one dying man? Whythese outcries? this fury? this violence? Is it thus that the people,the strong and equitable people, are wont to execute their judgments?No, no; when sure of their right, they strike their enemies, it iswith the calmness of the judge, who, in freedom of soul and conscience,passes sentence. No, the strong and equitable people do not deal theirblows like men blind or mad, uttering cries of rage, as if to drown thesense of some cowardly and horrible murder. No, it is not thus that theyexercise the formidable right, to which you now lay claim--for you willhave it--"
"Yes, we will have it!" shouted the quarryman, Ciboule, and others ofthe more pitiless portion of the mob; whilst a great number remainedsilent, struck with the words of Gabriel, who had just painted to them,in such lively colors, the frightful act they were about to commit.
"Yes," resumed the quarryman, "it is our right; we have determined tokill the poisoner!"
So saying, and with bloodshot eyes, and flushed cheek, the wretchadvanced at the head of a resolute group, making a gesture as though hewould have pushed aside Gabriel, who was still standing in front of therailing. But instead of resisting the bandit, the missionary advanceda couple of steps to meet him, took him by the arm, and said in a firmvoice: "Come!"
And dragging, as it were, with him the stupefied quarryman, whosecompanions did not venture to follow at the moment, struck dumb as theywere by this new incident, Gabriel rapidly traversed the space whichseparated him from the choir, opened the iron gate, and, still holdingthe quarryman by the arm, led him up to the prostrate form of Fatherd'Aigrigny, and said to him: "There is the victim. He is condemned.Strike!"
"I" cried the quarryman, hesitating; "I--all alone!"
"Oh!" replied Gabriel, with bitterness, "there is no danger. You caneasily finish him. Look! he is broken down with suffering; he has hardlya breath of life left; he will make no resistance. Do not be afraid!"
The quarryman remained motionless, whilst the crowd, strangely impressedwith this incident, approached a little nearer the railing, withoutdaring to come within the gate.
"Strike then!" resumed Gabriel, addressing the quarryman, whilst hepointed to the crowd with a solemn gesture; "there are the judges; youare the executioner."
"No!" cried the quarryman, drawing back, and turning away his eyes; "I'mnot the executioner--not I!"
The crowd remained silent. For a few moments, not a word, not a cry,disturbed the stillness of the solemn cathedral. In a desperate case,Gabriel had acted with a profound knowledge of the human heart. When themultitude, inflamed with blind rage, rushes with ferocious clamor upona single victim, and each man strikes his blow, this dreadful species ofcombined murder appears less horrible to each, because they all share inthe common crime; and then the shouts, the sight of blood, the desperatedefence of the man they massacre, finish by producing a sort offerocious intoxication; but, amongst all those furious madmen, who takepart in the homicide, select one, and place him face to face with thevictim, no longer capable of resistance, and say to him, "Strike!"--hewill hardly ever dare to do so.
It was thus with the quarryman; the wretch trembled at the idea ofcommitting a murder in cold blood, "all alone." The preceding scene hadpassed very rapidly; amongst the companions of the quarryman, nearestto the railing, some did not understand an impression, which they wouldthemselves have felt as strongly as this bold man, if it had been saidto them: "Do the office of executioner!" These, therefore, began tomurmur aloud at his weakness. "He dares not finish the poisoner," saidone.
"The coward!"
"He is afraid."
"He draws back." Hearing these words, the quarryman ran to the gate,threw it wide open, and, pointing to Father d'Aigrigny, exclaimed: "Ifthere is one here braver than I am, let him go and finish the job--lethim be, the executioner--come!"
On this proposal the murmurs ceased. A deep silence reigned once more inthe cathedral. All those countenances, but now so furious, became sad,confused, almost frightened.
The deluded mob began to appreciate the ferocious cowardice of theaction it had been about to commit. Not one durst go alone to strike thehalf expiring man. Suddenly, Father d'Aigrigny uttered a dying rattle,his head and one of his arms stirred with a convulsive movement,
andthen fell back upon the stones as if he had just expired.
Gabriel uttered a cry of anguish, and threw himself on his knees closeto Father d'Aigrigny, exclaiming: "Great Heaven! he is dead!"
There is a singular variableness in the mind of a crowd, susceptiblealike to good or evil impressions. At the heart-piercing cry of Gabriel,all these people, who, a moment before, had demanded, with loud uproar,the massacre of this man, felt touched with a sudden pity. The words:"He is dead!" circulated in low whispers through the crowd accompaniedby a slight shudder, whilst Gabriel raised with one hand the victim'sheavy head, and with the other sought to feel if the pulse still beatbeneath the ice-cold skin.
"Mr. Curate," said the quarryman, bending towards Gabriel, "is therereally no hope?"
The answer was waited for with anxiety, in the midst of deep silence.The people hardly ventured to exchange a few words in whispers.
"Blessed be God!" exclaimed Gabriel, suddenly. "His heart beats."
"His heart beats," repeated the quarryman, turning his head towards thecrowd, to inform them of the good news.
"Oh! his heart beats!" repeated the others, in whispers.
"There is hope. We may yet save him," added Gabriel with an expressionof indescribable happiness.
"We may yet save him," repeated the quarryman, mechanically.
"We may yet save him," muttered the crowd.
"Quick, quick," resumed Gabriel, addressing the quarryman; "help me,brother. Let us carry him to a neighboring house, where he can haveimmediate aid."
The quarryman obeyed with readiness. Whilst the missionary lifted Fatherd'Aigrigny by holding him under the arms, the quarryman took the legsof the almost inanimate body. Together, they carried him outside of thechoir. At sight of the formidable quarryman, aiding the young priestto render assistance to the man whom he had just before pursued withmenaces of death, the multitude felt a sudden thrill of compassion.Yielding to the powerful influence of the words and example of Gabriel,they felt themselves deeply moved, and each became anxious to offerservices.
"Mr. Curate, he would perhaps be better on a chair, that one could carryupright," said Ciboule.
"Shall I go and fetch a stretcher from the hospital?" asked another.
"Mr. Curate, let me take your place; the body is too heavy for you."
"Don't trouble yourself," said a powerful man, approaching themissionary respectfully; "I can carry him alone."
"Shall I run and fetch a coach, Mr. Curate?" said a young vagabond,taking off his red cap.
"Right," said the quarryman; "run away, my buck!"
"But first, ask Mr. Curate if you are to go for a coach," said Ciboule,stopping the impatient messenger.
"True," added one of the bystanders; "we are here in a church, and Mr.Curate has the command. He is at home."
"Yes, yes; go at once, my child," said Gabriel to the obliging youngvagabond.
Whilst the latter was making his way through the crowd, a voice said:"I've a little wicker-bottle of brandy; will that be of any use?"
"No doubt," answered Gabriel, hastily; "pray give it here. We can rubhis temples with the spirit, and make him inhale a little."
"Pass the bottle," cried Ciboule; "but don't put your noses in it!"And, passed with caution from hand to hand, the flask reached Gabriel insafety.
Whilst waiting for the coming of the coach, Father d'Aigrigny hadbeen seated on a chair. Whilst several good-natured people carefullysupported the abbe, the missionary made him inhale a little brandy. In afew minutes, the spirit had a powerful influence on the Jesuit; he madesome slight movements, and his oppressed bosom heaved with a deep sigh.
"He is saved--he will live," cried Gabriel, in a triumphant voice; "hewill live, my brothers!"
"Oh! glad to hear it!" exclaimed many voices.
"Oh, yes! be glad, my brothers!" repeated Gabriel; "for, instead ofbeing weighed down with the remorse of crime, you will have a just andcharitable action to remember. Let us thank God, that he has changedyour blind fury into a sentiment of compassion! Let us pray to Him, thatneither you, nor those you love, may ever be exposed to such frightfuldanger as this unfortunate man has just escaped. Oh, my brothers!" addedGabriel, as he pointed to the image of Christ with touching emotion,which communicated itself the more easily to others from the expressionof his angelic countenance; "oh, my brothers! let us never forget, thatHE, who died upon that cross for the defence of the oppressed, forthe obscure children of the people like to ourselves, pronounced thoseaffectionate words so sweet to the heart; 'Love ye one another!'--Letus never forget it; let us love and help one another, and we poorpeople shall then become better, happier, just. Love--yes, love ye oneanother--and fall prostrate before that Saviour, who is the God of allthat are weak, oppressed, and suffering in this world!"
So saying, Gabriel knelt down. All present respectfully followed hisexample, such power was there in his simple and persuasive words. Atthis moment, a singular incident added to the grandeur of the scene. Wehave said that a few seconds before the quarryman and his band enteredthe body of the church, several persons had fled from it. Two of thesehad taken refuge in the organ-loft, from which retreat they had viewedthe preceding scene, themselves remaining invisible. One of thesepersons was a young man charged with the care of the organ, and quitemusician enough to play on it. Deeply moved by the unexpected turn of anevent which at first appeared so tragical, and yielding to an artisticalinspiration, this young man, at the moment when he saw the peoplekneeling with Gabriel, could not forbear striking the notes. Then a sortof harmonious sigh, at first almost insensible, seemed to rise from themidst of this immense cathedral, like a divine aspiration. As soft andaerial as the balmy vapor of incense, it mounted and spread through thelofty arches. Little by little the faint, sweet sounds, though still asit were covered, changed to an exquisite melody, religious, melancholy,and affectionate, which rose to heaven like a song of ineffablegratitude and love. And the notes were at first so faint, so covered,that the kneeling multitude had scarcely felt surprise, and had yieldedinsensibly to the irresistible influence of that enchanting harmony.
Then many an eye, until now dry and ferocious, became wet withtears--many hard hearts beat gently, as they remembered the wordspronounced by Gabriel with so tender an accent: "Love ye one another!"It was at this moment that Father d'Aigrigny came to himself--and openedhis eyes. He thought himself under the influence of a dream. He hadlost his senses in sight of a furious populace, who, with insult andblasphemy on their lips, pursued him with cries of death even to thesanctuary of the temple. He opened his eyes--and, by the pale light ofthe sacred lamps, to the solemn music of the organ, he saw that crowd,just now so menacing and implacable, kneeling in mute and reverentialemotion, and humbly bowing their heads before the majesty of the shrine.
Some minutes after, Gabriel, carried almost in triumph on the shouldersof the crowd, entered the coach, in which Father d'Aigrigny, who bydegrees had completely recovered his senses, was already reclining. Bythe order of the Jesuit, the coach stopped before the door of a housein the Rue de Vaugirard; he had the strength and courage to enter thisdwelling alone; Gabriel was not admitted, but we shall conduct thereader thither.
