by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER LV. THE IMPROVISED HOSPITAL
Among a great number of temporary hospitals opened at the time of thecholera in every quarter of Paris, one had been established on theground-floor of a large house in the Rue du Mont-Blanc. The vacantapartments had been generously placed by their proprietor at thedisposal of the authorities; and to this place were carried a numberof persons, who, being suddenly attacked with the contagion, wereconsidered in too dangerous a state to be removed to the principalhospitals.
Two days had elapsed since Rodin's visit to Marshal Simon's daughters.Shortly after he had been expelled, the Princess de Saint-Dizier hadentered to see them, under the cloak of being a house-to-house visitorto collect funds for the cholera sufferers.
Choosing the moment when Dagobert, deceived by her lady-like demeanor,had withdrawn, she counselled the twins that it was their duty to goand see their governess, whom she stated to be in the hospital we nowdescribe.
It was about ten o'clock in the morning. The persons who had watchedduring the night by the sick people, in the hospital established inthe Rue du Mont-Blanc, were about to be relieved by other voluntaryassistants.
"Well, gentlemen," said one of those newly arrived, "how are we gettingon? Has there been any decrease last night in the number of the sick?"
"Unfortunately, no; but the doctors think the contagion has reached itsheight."
"Then there is some hope of seeing it decrease."
"And have any of the gentlemen, whose places we come to take, beenattacked by the disease?"
"We came eleven strong last night; we are only nine now."
"That is bad. Were these two persons taken off rapidly?"
"One of the victims, a young man of twenty-five years of age, a cavalryofficer on furlough, was struck as it were by lightning. In less than aquarter of an hour he was dead. Though such facts are frequent, we werespeechless with horror."
"Poor young man!"
"He had a word of cordial encouragement and hope for every one. He hadso far succeeded in raising the spirits of the patients, that some ofthem who were less affected by the cholera than by the fear of it, wereable to quit the hospital nearly well."
"What a pity! So good a young man! Well, he died gloriously; it requiresas much courage as on the field of battle."
"He had only one rival in zeal and courage, and that is a Young priest,with an angelic countenance, whom they call the Abbe Gabriel. He isindefatigable; he hardly takes an hour's rest, but runs from one tothe other, and offers himself to everybody. He forgets nothing. Theconsolation; which he offers come from the depths of his soul, and arenot mere formalities in the way of his profession. No, no, I saw himweep over a poor woman, whose eyes he had closed after a dreadful agony.Oh, if all priests were like him!"
"No doubt, a good priest is most worthy of respect. But! who is theother victim of last night?"
"Oh! his death was frightful. Do not speak of it. I have still thehorrible scene before my eyes."
"A sudden attack of cholera?"
"If it had only been the contagion, I should not so shudder at theremembrance."
"What then did he die of?"
"It is a string of horrors. Three days ago, they brought here a man, whowas supposed to be only attacked with cholera. You have no doubt heardspeak of this personage. He is the lion-tamer, that drew all Paris tothe Porte-Saint-Martin."
"I know the man you mean. Called Morok. He performed a kind of play witha tame panther."
"Exactly so; I was myself present at a similar scene, which a stranger,an Indian, in consequence of a wager, was said at the time, jumped uponthe stage and killed the panther."
"Well, this Morok, brought here as a cholera-patient, and indeed withall the symptoms of the contagion, soon showed signs of a still morefrightful malady."
"And this was--"
"Hydrophobia."
"Did he become mad?"
"Yes; he confessed, that he had been bitten a few days before by oneof the mastiffs in his menagerie; unfortunately, we only learnt thiscircumstance after the terrible attack, which cost the life of the poorfellow we deplore."
"How did it happen, then?"
"Morok was in a room with three other patients. Suddenly seized with asort of furious delirium, he rose, uttering ferocious cries, and rushedraving mad into the passage. Our poor friend made an attempt to stophim. This kind of resistance increased the frenzy of Morok, who threwhimself on the man that crossed his path, and, tearing him with histeeth, fell down in horrible convulsions."
"Oh! you are right. 'Twas indeed frightful. And, not withstanding everyassistance this victim of Morok's--"
"Died during the night, in dreadful agony; for the shock had been soviolent, that brain-fever almost instantly declared itself."
"And is Morok dead?"
"I do not know. He was to be taken to another hospital, after being fastbound in the state of weakness which generally succeeds the fit. But,till he can be removed he has been confined in a room upstairs."
"But he cannot recover."
"I should think he must be dead by this time. The doctors did not givehim twenty-four hours to live."
The persons engaged in this conversation were standing in anante-chamber on the ground-floor, in which usually assembled those whocame to offer their voluntary aid to the sick. One door of this roomcommunicated with the rest of the hospital, and the other with thepassage that opened upon the courtyard.
"Dear me!" said one of the two speakers, looking through the window."See what two charming girls have just got out of that elegant carriage.How much alike they are! Such a resemblance is indeed extraordinary."
"No doubt they are twins. Poor young girls! dressed in Mourning. Theyhave perhaps lost father or mother."
"One would imagine they are coming this way."
"Yes, they are coming up the steps."
And indeed Rose and Blanche soon entered the antechamber, with a timid,anxious air, though a sort of feverish excitement was visible in theirlooks. One of the two men that were talking together, moved by theembarrassment of the girls, advanced toward them, and said, in a tone ofattentive politeness: "Is there anything I can do for you, ladies?"
"Is not this, sir," replied Rose, "the infirmary of the Rue du MontBlanc?"
"Yes, miss."
"A lady, called Madame Augustine du Tremblay, was brought here, we aretold, about two days ago. Could we see her?"
"I would observe to you, miss, that there is some danger in entering thesick-wards."
"It is a dear friend that we wish to see," answered Rose, in a mild andfirm tone, which sufficiently expressed that she was determined to bravethe danger.
"I cannot be sure, miss," resumed the other, "that the person you seekis here; but, if you will take the trouble to walk into this room on theleft, you will find there the good Sister Martha; she has the careof the women's wards, and will give you all the information you candesire."
"Thank you, sir," said Blanche, with a graceful bow; and she and hersister entered together the apartment which had been pointed out tothem.
"They are really charming," said the man, looking after the two sisters,who soon disappeared from his view. "It would be a great pity if--"
He was unable to finish. A frightful tumult, mingled with cries of alarmand horror, rose suddenly from the adjoining rooms. Almost instantly,two doors were thrown open, and a number of the sick, half-naked, pale,fleshless, and their features convulsed with terror, rushed into theantechamber, exclaiming: "Help! help! the madman!" It is impossible topaint the scene of despairing and furious confusion which followed thispanic of so many affrighted wretches, flying to the only other door, toescape from the perils they dreaded, and there, struggling and tramplingon each other to pass through the narrow entrance.
At the moment when the last of these unhappy creatures succeeded inreaching the door, dragging himself along upon his bleeding hands, forhe had been thrown down and almost crushed in the confusion--Morok,the object of so much terror-
-Morok himself appeared. He was a horriblesight. With the exception of a rag bound about his middle, his wan formwas entirely naked, and from his bare legs still hung the remnants ofthe cords he had just broken. His thick, yellow hair stood almost onend, his beard bristled, his savage eyes rolled full of blood in theirorbits, and shone with a glassy brightness; his lips were covered withfoam; from time to time, he uttered hoarse, guttural cries. The veins,visible on his iron limbs were swollen almost to bursting. He boundedlike a wild beast, and stretched out before him his bony and quiveringhands. At the moment Morok reached the doorway, by which those hepursued made their escape, some persons, attracted by the noise, managedto close this door from without, whilst others secured that whichcommunicated with the sick-ward.
Morok thus found himself a prisoner. He ran to the window to force itopen, and threw himself into the courtyard. But, stopping suddenly, hedrew back from the glittering panes, seized with that invincible horrorwhich all the victims of hydrophobia feel at the sight of any shiningobject, particularly glass. The unfortunate creatures whom he hadpursued, saw him from the courtyard exhausting himself in furiousefforts to open the doors that just had been closed upon him. Then,perceiving the inutility of his attempts, he uttered savage cries, andrushed furiously round the room, like a wild beast that seeks in vain toescape from its cage.
But, suddenly, those spectators of this scene, who had approachednearest to the window, uttered a loud exclamation of fear and anguish.Morok had perceived the little door which led to the closet occupied bySister Martha, where Rose and Blanche had entered a few minutes before.Hoping to get out by this way, Morok drew the door violently towardshim, and succeeded in half opening it, notwithstanding the resistance heexperienced from the inside. For an instant the affrighted crowd saw thestiffened arms Of Sister Martha and the orphans, clinging to the door,and holding it back with all their might.
