CHAPTER IX
The next morning he woke, thinking of her, just as he had been doingwhen he went to sleep. He tried to rationalize the episode and revolvedhis conjectures over and over. Once again he put himself this question:"Why, when I went to her house, did she not let me see that I pleasedher? Never a look, never a word to encourage me. Why thiscorrespondence, when it was so easy to insist on having me to dine, sosimple to prepare an occasion which would bring us together, either ather home or elsewhere?" And he answered himself, "It would have beenusual and not at all diverting. She is perhaps skilled in these matters.She knows that the unknown frightens a man's reason away, that theunembodied puts the soul in ferment, and she wished to give me a feverbefore trying an attack--to call her advances by their right name.
"It must be admitted that if my conjectures are correct she is strangelyastute. At heart she is, perhaps, quite simply a crazy romantic or acomedian. It amuses her to manufacture little adventures, to throwtantalizing obstacles in the way of the realization of a vulgar desire.And Chantelouve? He is probably aware of his wife's goings on, whichperhaps facilitate his career. Otherwise, how could she arrange to comehere at nine o'clock at night, instead of the morning or afternoon onpretence of going shopping?"
To this new question there could be no answer, and little by little heceased to interrogate himself on the point. He began to be obsessed bythe real woman as he had been by the imaginary creature. The latter hadcompletely vanished. He did not even remember her physiognomy now. Mme.Chantelouve, just as she was in reality, without borrowing the other'sfeatures, had complete possession of him and fired his brain and sensesto white heat. He began to desire her madly and to wish furiously fortomorrow night. And if she did not come? He felt cold in the small ofhis back at the idea that she might be unable to get away from home orthat she might wilfully stay away.
"High time it was over and done with," he said, for this Saint Vitus'dance went on not without certain diminution of force, which disturbedhim. In fact he feared, after the febrile agitation of his nights, toreveal himself as a sorry paladin when the time came. "But why bother?"he rejoined, as he started toward Carhaix's, where he was to dine withthe astrologer Gevingey and Des Hermies.
"I shall be rid of my obsession awhile," he murmured, groping along inthe darkness of the tower.
Des Hermies, hearing him come up the stair, opened the door, casting ashaft of light into the spiral. Durtal, reaching the landing, saw hisfriend in shirt sleeves and enveloped in an apron.
"I am, as you see, in the heat of composition," and upon a stew-panboiling on the stove Des Hermies cast that brief and sure look which amechanic gives his machine, then he consulted, as if it were amanometer, his watch, hanging to a nail. "Look," he said, raising thepot lid.
Durtal bent over and through a cloud of vapour he saw a coiled napkinrising and falling with the little billows. "Where is the leg ofmutton?"
"It, my friend, is sewn into that cloth so tightly that the air cannotenter. It is cooking in this pretty, singing sauce, into which I havethrown a handful of hay, some pods of garlic and slices of carrot andonion, some grated nutmeg, and laurel and thyme. You will have manycompliments to make me if Gevingey doesn't keep us waiting too long,because a _gigot a l'Anglaise_ won't stand being cooked to shreds."
Carhaix's wife looked in.
"Come in," she said. "My husband is here."
Durtal found him dusting the books. They shook hands. Durtal, at random,looked over some of the dusted books lying on the table.
"Are these," he asked, "technical works about metals and bell-foundingor are they about the liturgy of bells?"
"They are not about founding, though there is sometimes reference to thefounders, the 'sainterers' as they were called in the good old days. Youwill discover here and there some details about alloys of red copper andfine tin. You will even find, I believe, that the art of the 'sainterer'has been in decline for three centuries, probably due to the fact thatthe faithful no longer melt down their ornaments of precious metals,thus modifying the alloy. Or is it because the founders no longer invokeSaint Anthony the Eremite when the bronze is boiling in the furnace? Ido not know. It is true, at any rate, that bells are now made in carloadlots. Their voices are without personality. They are all the same.They're like docile and indifferent hired girls when formerly they werelike those aged servants who became part of the family whose joys andgriefs they have shared. But what difference does that make to theclergy and the congregation? At present these auxiliaries devoted to thecult do not represent any symbol. And that explains the wholedifficulty.
"You asked me, a few seconds ago, whether these books treated of bellsfrom the liturgical point of view. Yes, most of them give tabulatedexplanations of the significance of the various component parts. Theinterpretations are simple and offer little variety."
"What are a few of them?"
"I can sum them all up for you in a very few words. According to the_Rational_ of Guillaume Durand, the hardness of the metal signifies theforce of the preacher. The percussion of the clapper on the sidesexpresses the idea that the preacher must first scourge himself tocorrect himself of his own vices before reproaching the vices of others.The wooden frame represents the cross of Christ, and the cord, whichformerly served to set the bell swinging, allegorizes the science of theScriptures which flows from the mystery of the Cross itself.
"The most ancient liturgists expound practically the same symbols. JeanBeleth, who lived in 1200, declares also that the bell is the image ofthe preacher, but adds that its motion to and fro, when it is setswinging, teaches that the preacher must by turns elevate his languageand bring it down within reach of the crowd. For Hugo of Saint Victorthe clapper is the tongue of the officiating priest, which strikes thetwo sides of the vase and announces thus, at the same time, the truth ofthe two Testaments. Finally, if we consult Fortunatus Amalarius, perhapsthe most ancient of the liturgists, we find simply that the body of thebell denotes the mouth of the preacher and the hammer his tongue."
"But," said Durtal, somewhat disappointed, "it isn't--what shall Isay?--very profound."
The door opened.
"Why, how are you!" said Carhaix, shaking hands with Gevingey, and thenintroducing him to Durtal.
While the bell-ringer's wife finished setting the table, Durtal examinedthe newcomer. He was a little man, wearing a soft black felt hat andwrapped up like an omnibus conductor in a cape with a military collar ofblue cloth.
His head was like an egg with the hollow downward. The skull, waxed asif with siccatif, seemed to have grown up out of the hair, which washard and like filaments of dried coconut and hung down over his neck.The nose was bony, and the nostrils opened like two hatchways, over atoothless mouth which was hidden by a moustache grizzled like the goateespringing from the short chin. At first glance one would have taken himfor an art-worker, a wood engraver or a glider of saints' images, but onlooking at him more closely, observing the eyes, round and grey, setclose to the nose, almost crossed, and studying his solemn voice andobsequious manners, one asked oneself from what quite special kind ofsacristy the man had issued.
He took off his things and appeared in a black frock coat of square,boxlike cut. A fine gold chain, passed about his neck, lost itself inthe bulging pocket of an old vest. Durtal gasped when Gevingey, as soonas he had seated himself, complacently put his hands on exhibition,resting them on his knees. Enormous, freckled with blotches of orange,and terminating in milk-white nails cut to the quick, the fingers werecovered with huge rings, the sets of which formed a phalanx.
Seeing Durtal's gaze fixed on his fingers, he smiled. "You examine myvaluables, monsieur. They are of three metals, gold, platinum, andsilver. This ring bears a scorpion, the sign under which I was born.That with its two accoupled triangles, one pointing downward and theother upward, reproduces the image of the macrocosm, the seal ofSolomon, the grand pantacle. As for the little one you see here," hewent on, showing a lady's ring set with a tiny sapphire between tw
oroses, "that is a present from a person whose horoscope I was goodenough to cast."
"Ah!" said Durtal, somewhat surprised at the man's self-satisfaction.
"Dinner is ready," said the bell-ringer's wife.
Des Hermies, doffing his apron, appeared in his tight cheviot garments.He was not so pale as usual, his cheeks being red from the heat of thestove. He set the chairs around.
Carhaix served the broth, and everyone was silent, taking spoonfuls ofthe cooler broth at the edge of the bowl. Then madame brought DesHermies the famous leg of mutton to cut. It was a magnificent red, andlarge drops flowed beneath the knife. Everybody ecstasized when tastingthis robust meat, aromatic with a puree of turnips sweetened with capersauce.
Des Hermies bowed under a storm of compliments. Carhaix filled theglasses, and, somewhat confused in the presence of Gevingey, paid theastrologer effusive attention to make him forget their formerill-feeling. Des Hermies assisted in this good work, and wishing also tobe useful to Durtal, brought the conversation around to the subject ofhoroscopes.
Then Gevingey mounted the rostrum. In a tone of satisfaction he spoke ofhis vast labours, of the six months a horoscope required, of thesurprise of laymen when he declared that such work was not paid for bythe price he asked, five hundred francs.
"But you see I cannot give my science for nothing," he said. "And nowpeople doubt astrology, which was revered in antiquity. Also in theMiddle Ages, when it was almost sacred. For instance, messieurs, look atthe portal of Notre Dame. The three doors which archeologists--notinitiated into the symbolism of Christianity and the occult--designateby the names of the door of Judgment, the door of the Virgin, and thedoor of Saint Marcel or Saint Anne, really represent Mysticism,Astrology, and Alchemy, the three great sciences of the Middle Ages.Today you find people who say, 'Are you quite sure that the stars havean influence on the destiny of man?' But, messieurs, without enteringhere into details reserved for the adept, in what way is this spiritualinfluence stranger than that corporal influence which certain planets,the moon, for example, exercise on the organs of men and women?
"You are a physician, Monsieur Des Hermies, and you are not unaware thatthe doctors Gillespin, Jackson, and Balfour, of Jamaica, haveestablished the influence of the constellations on human health in theWest Indies. At every change of the moon the number of sick peopleaugments. The acute crises of fever coincide with the phases of oursatellite. Finally, there are _lunatics_. Go out in the country andascertain at what periods madness becomes epidemic. But does this serveto convince the incredulous?" he asked sorrowfully, contemplating hisrings.
"It seems to me, on the contrary, that astrology is picking up," saidDurtal. "There are now two astrologers casting horoscopes in the nextcolumn to the secret remedies on the fourth page of the newspapers."
"And it's a shame! Those people don't even know the first thing aboutthe science. They are simply tricksters who hope thus to pick up somemoney. What's the use of speaking of them when they _don't even exist_!Really it must be admitted that only in England and America is thereanybody who knows how to establish the genethliac theme and construct ahoroscope."
"I am very much afraid," said Des Hermies, "that not only theseso-called astrologers, but also all the mages, theosophists, occultists,and cabalists of the present day, know absolutely nothing--those withwhom I am acquainted are indubitably, incontestably, ignorant imbeciles.And that is the pure truth, messieurs. These people are, for the mostpart, down-and-out journalists or broken spendthrifts seeking to exploitthe taste of a public weary of positivism. They plagiarize Eliphas Levi,steal from Fabre d'Olivet, and write treatises of which they themselvesare incapable of making head or tail. It's a real pity, when you come tothink of it."
"The more so as they discredit sciences which certainly contain veritiesomitted in their jumble," said Durtal.
"Then another lamentable thing," said Des Hermies, "is that in additionto the dupes and simpletons, these little sects harbour some frightfulcharlatans and windbags."
"Peladan, among others. Who does not know that shoddy mage,commercialized to his fingertips?" cried Durtal.
"Oh, yes, that fellow--"
"Briefly, messieurs," resumed Gevingey, "all these people are incapableof obtaining in practise any effect whatever. The only man in thiscentury who, without being either a saint or a diabolist, has penetratedthe mysteries, is William Crookes." And as Durtal, who appeared to doubtthe apparitions sworn to by this Englishman, declared that no theorycould explain them, Gevingey perorated, "Permit me, messieurs. We havethe choice between two diverse, and I venture to say, very clear-cutdoctrines. Either the apparition is formed by the fluid disengaged bythe medium in trance to combine with the fluid of the persons present;or else there are in the air immaterial beings, elementals as they arecalled, which manifest themselves under very nearly determinableconditions; or else, and this is the theory of pure spiritism, thephenomena are produced by souls evoked from the dead."
"I know it," Durtal said, "and that horrifies me. I know also the Hindudogma of the migrations of souls after death. These disembodied soulsstray until they are reincarnated or until they attain, from avatar toavatar, to complete purity. Well, I think it's quite enough to liveonce. I'd prefer nothingness, a hole in the ground, to all thosemetamorphoses. It's more consoling to me. As for the evocation of thedead, the mere thought that the butcher on the corner can force the soulof Hugo, Balzac, Baudelaire, to converse with him, would put me besidemyself, if I believed it. Ah, no. Materialism, abject as it is, is lessvile than that."
"Spiritism," said Carhaix, "is only a new name for the ancientnecromancy condemned and cursed by the Church."
Gevingey looked at his rings, then emptied his glass.
"In any case," he returned, "you will admit that these theories can beupheld, especially that of the elementals, which, setting Satanismaside, seems the most veridic, and certainly is the most clear. Space ispeopled by microbes. Is it more surprising that space should also becrammed with spirits and larvae? Water and vinegar are alive withanimalcules. The microscope shows them to us. Now why should not theair, inaccessible to the sight and to the instruments of man, swarm,like the other elements, with beings more or less corporeal, embryosmore or less mature?"
"That is probably why cats suddenly look upward and gaze curiously intospace at something that is passing and that we can't see," said thebell-ringer's wife.
"No, thanks," said Gevingey to Des Hermies, who was offering him anotherhelping of egg-and-dandelion salad.
"My friends," said the bell-ringer, "you forget only one doctrine, thatof the Church, which attributes all these inexplicable phenomena toSatan. Catholicism has known them for a long time. It did not need towait for the first manifestations of the spirits--which were produced, Ibelieve, in 1847, in the United States, through the Fox family--beforedecreeing that spirit rapping came from the Devil. You will find inSaint Augustine the proof, for he had to send a priest to put an end tonoises and overturning of objects and furniture, in the diocese ofHippo, analogous to those which Spiritism points out. At the time ofTheodoric also, Saint Caesaraeus ridded a house of lemurs haunting it. Yousee, there are only the City of God and the City of the Devil. Now,since God is above these cheap manipulations, the occultists andspiritists satanize more or less, whether they wish to or not."
"Nevertheless, Spiritism has accomplished one important thing. It hasviolated the threshold of the unknown, broken the doors of thesanctuary. It has brought about in the extranatural a revolution similarto that which was effected in the terrestrial order in France in 1789.It has democratized evocation and opened a whole new vista. Only, it haslacked initiates to lead it, and, proceeding at random without science,it has agitated good and bad spirits together. In Spiritism you willfind a jumble of everything. It is the hash of mystery, if I may bepermitted the expression."
"The saddest thing about it," said Des Hermies, laughing, "is that at aseance one never sees a thing! I know that experiments have beensuccessful, but
those which I have witnessed--well, the experimentersseemed to take a long shot and miss."
"That is not surprising," said the astrologer, spreading some firmcandied orange jelly on a piece of bread, "the first law to observe inmagism and Spiritism is to send away the unbelievers, because very oftentheir fluid is antagonistic to that of the clairvoyant or the medium."
"Then how can there be any assurance of the reality of the phenomena?"thought Durtal.
Carhaix rose. "I shall be back in ten minutes." He put on his greatcoat,and soon the sound of his steps was lost in the tower.
"True," murmured Durtal, consulting his watch. "It's a quarter toeight."
There was a moment of silence in the room. As all refused to have anymore dessert, Mme. Carhaix took up the tablecloth and spread an oilclothin its place.
The astrologer played with his rings, turning them about; Durtal wasrolling a pellet of crumbled bread between his fingers; Des Hermies,leaning over to one side, pulled from his patch pocket his embossedJapanese pouch and made a cigarette.
Then when the bell-ringer's wife had bidden them good night and retiredto her room, Des Hermies got the kettle and the coffee pot.
"Want any help?" Durtal proposed.
"You can get the little glasses and uncork the liqueur bottles, if youwill."
As he opened the cupboard, Durtal swayed, dizzy from the strokes of thebells which shook the walls and filled the room with clamour.
"If there are spirits in this room, they must be getting knocked topieces," he said, setting the liqueur glasses on the table.
"Bells drive phantoms and spectres away," Gevingey answered, doctorally,filling his pipe.
"Here," said Des Hermies, "will you pour hot water slowly into thefilter? I've got to feed the stove. It's getting chilly here. My feetare freezing."
Carhaix returned, blowing out his lantern. "The bell was in good voice,this clear, dry night," and he took off his mountaineer cap and hisovercoat.
"What do you think of him?" Des Hermies asked Durtal in a very lowvoice, and pointed at the astrologer, now lost in a cloud of pipe smoke.
"In repose he looks like an old owl, and when he speaks he makes methink of a melancholy and discursive schoolmaster."
"Only one," said Des Hermies to Carhaix, who was holding a lump of sugarover Des Hermies's coffee cup.
"I hear, monsieur, that you are occupied with a history of Gilles deRais," said Gevingey to Durtal.
"Yes, for the time being I am up to my eyes in Satanism with that man."
"And," said Des Hermies, "we were just going to appeal to your extensiveknowledge. You only can enlighten my friend on one of the most obscurequestions of Diabolism."
"Which one?"
"That of incubacy and succubacy."
Gevingey did not answer at once. "That is a much graver question thanSpiritism," he said at last, "and grave in a different way. But monsieuralready knows something about it?"
"Only that opinions differ. Del Rio and Bodin, for instance, considerthe incubi as masculine demons which couple with women and the succubias demons who consummate the carnal act with men.
"According to their theories the incubi take the semen lost by men indream and make use of it. So that two questions arise: first, can achild be born of such a union? The possibility of this kind ofprocreation has been upheld by the Church doctors, who affirm, even,that children of such commerce are heavier than others and can drainthree nurses without taking on flesh. The second question is whether thedemon who copulates with the mother or the man whose semen has beentaken is the father of the child. To which Saint Thomas answers, withmore or less subtle arguments, that the real father is not the incubusbut the man."
"For Sinistrari d'Ameno," observed Durtal, "the incubi and succubi arenot precisely demons, but animal spirits, intermediate between the demonand the angel, a sort of satyr or faun, such as were revered in the timeof paganism, a sort of imp, such as were exorcised in the Middle Ages.Sinistrari adds that they do not need to pollute a sleeping man, sincethey possess genitals and are endowed with prolificacy."
"Well, there is nothing further," said Gevingey. "Goerres, so learned, soprecise, in his _Mystik_ passes rapidly over this question, evenneglects it, and the Church, you know, is completely silent, for theChurch does not like to treat this subject and views askance the priestwho does occupy himself with it."
"I beg your pardon," said Carhaix, always ready to defend the Church."The Church has never hesitated to declare itself on this detestablesubject. The existence of succubi and incubi is certified by SaintAugustine, Saint Thomas, Saint Bonaventure, Denys le Chartreux, PopeInnocent VIII, and how many others! The question is resolutely settledfor every Catholic. It also figures in the lives of some of the saints,if I am not mistaken. Yes, in the legend of Saint Hippolyte, Jacques deVoragine tells how a priest, tempted by a naked succubus, cast his stoleat its head and it suddenly became the corpse of some dead woman whomthe Devil had animated to seduce him."
"Yes," said Gevingey, whose eyes twinkled. "The Church recognizessuccubacy, I grant. But let me speak, and you will see that myobservations are not uncalled for.
"You know very well, messieurs," addressing Des Hermies and Durtal,"what the books teach, but within a hundred years everything haschanged, and if the facts I am are unknown to the many members of theclergy, and you will not find them cited in any book whatever.
"At present it is less frequently demons than bodies raised from thedead which fill the indispensable role of incubus and succubus. In otherwords, formerly the living being subject to succubacy was known to bepossessed. Now that vampirism, by the evocation of the dead, is joinedto demonism, the victim is worse than possessed. The Church did not knowwhat to do. Either it must keep silent or reveal the possibility of theevocation of the dead, already forbidden by Moses, and this admissionwas dangerous, for it popularized the knowledge of acts that are easierto produce now than formerly, since without knowing it Spiritism hastraced the way.
"So the Church has kept silent. And Rome is not unaware of the frightfuladvance incubacy has made in the cloisters in our days."
"That proves that continence is hard to bear in solitude," said DesHermies.
"It merely proves that the soul is feeble and that people have forgottenhow to pray," said Carhaix.
"However that may be, messieurs, to instruct you completely in thismatter, I must divide the creatures smitten with incubacy or succubacyinto two classes. The first is composed of persons who have directly andvoluntarily given themselves over to the demoniac action of the spirits.These persons are quite rare and they all die by suicide or some otherform of violent death. The second is composed of persons on whom thevisitation of spirits has been imposed by a spell. These are verynumerous, especially in the convents dominated by the demoniacsocieties. Ordinarily these victims end in madness. The psychopathichospitals are crowded with them. The doctors and the majority of thepriests do not know the cause of their madness, but the cases arecurable. A thaumaturge of my acquaintance has saved a good many of thebewitched who without his aid would be howling under hydrotherapeuticdouches. There are certain fumigations, certain exsufflations, certaincommandments written on a sheet of virgin parchment thrice blessed andworn like an amulet which almost always succeed in delivering thepatient."
"I want to ask you," said Des Hermies, "does a woman receive the visitof the incubus while she is asleep or while she is awake?"
"A distinction must be made. If the woman is not the victim of a spell,if she voluntarily consorts with the impure spirit, she is always awakewhen the carnal act takes place. If, on the other hand, the woman is thevictim of sorcery, the sin is committed either while she is asleep orwhile she is awake, but in the latter case she is in a cataleptic statewhich prevents her from defending herself. The most powerful ofpresent-day exorcists, the man who has gone most thoroughly into thismatter, one Johannes, Doctor of Theology, told me that he had saved nunswho had been ridden without respite for two, three, even four days by
incubi!"
"I know that priest," remarked Des Hermies.
"And the act is consummated in the same manner as the normal human act?"
"Yes and no. Here the dirtiness of the details makes me hesitate," saidGevingey, becoming slightly red. "What I can tell you is more thanstrange. Know, then, that the organ of the incubus is bifurcated and atthe same time penetrates both vases. Formerly it extended, and while onebranch of the fork acted in the licit channels, the other at the sametime reached up to the lower part of the face. You may imagine,gentlemen, how life must be shortened by operations which are multipliedthrough all the senses."
"And you are sure that these are facts?"
"Absolutely."
"But come now, you have proofs?"
Gevingey was silent, then, "The subject is so grave and I have gone sofar that I had better go the rest of the way. I am not mad nor thevictim of hallucination. Well, messieurs, I slept one time in the roomof the most redoubtable master Satanism now can claim."
"Canon Docre," Des Hermies interposed.
"Yes, and my sleep was fitful. It was broad daylight. I swear to youthat the succubus came, irritant and palpable and most tenacious.Happily, I remembered the formula of deliverance, which kept me--
"So I ran that very day to Doctor Johannes, of whom I have spoken. Heimmediately and forever, I hope, liberated me from the spell."
"If I did not fear to be indiscreet, I would ask you what kind of thingthis succubus was, whose attack you repulsed."
"Why, it was like any naked woman," said the astrologer hesitantly.
"Curious, now, if it had demanded its little gifts, its little gloves--"said Durtal, biting his lips.
"And do you know what has become of the terrible Docre?" Des Hermiesinquired.
"No, thank God. They say he is in the south, somewhere around Nimes,where he formerly resided."
"But what does this abbe do?" inquired Durtal.
"What does he do? He evokes the Devil, and he feeds white mice on thehosts which he consecrates. His frenzy for sacrilege is such that he hadthe image of Christ tattooed on his heels so that he could always stepon the Saviour!"
"Well," murmured Carhaix, whose militant moustache bristled while hisgreat eyes flamed, "if that abominable priest were here, I swear to youthat I would respect his feet, but that I would throw him downstairshead first."
"And the black mass?" inquired Des Hermies.
"He celebrates it with foul men and women. He is openly accused ofhaving influenced people to make wills in his favor and of causinginexplicable death. Unfortunately, there are no laws to represssacrilege, and how can you prosecute a man who sends maladies from adistance and kills slowly in such a way that at the autopsy no traces ofpoison appear?"
"The modern Gilles de Rais!" exclaimed Durtal.
"Yes, less savage, less frank, more hypocritically cruel. He does notcut throats. He probably limits himself to 'sendings' or to causingsuicide by suggestion," said Des Hermies, "for he is, I believe, amaster hypnotist."
"Could he insinuate into a victim the idea to drink, regularly, ingraduated doses, a toxin which he would designate, and which wouldsimulate the phases of a malady?" asked Durtal.
"Nothing simpler. 'Open window burglars' that the physicians of thepresent day are, they recognize perfectly the ability of a more skilfulman to pull off such jobs. The experiments of Beaunis, Liegois, Liebaut,and Bernheim are conclusive: you can even get a person assassinated byanother to whom you suggest, without his knowledge, the will to thecrime."
"I was thinking of something, myself," said Carhaix, who had beenreflecting and not listening to this discussion of hypnotism. "Of theInquisition. It certainly had its reason for being. It is the only agentthat could deal with this fallen priest whom the Church has swept out."
"And remember," said Des Hermies, with his crooked smile playing aroundthe corner of his mouth, "that the ferocity of the Inquisition has beengreatly exaggerated. No doubt the benevolent Bodin speaks of drivinglong needles between the nails and the flesh of the sorcerers' fingers.'An excellent gehenna,' says he. He eulogizes equally the torture byfire, which he characterizes as 'an exquisite death.' But he wishes onlyto turn the magicians away from their detestable practises and savetheir souls. Then Del Rio declares that 'the question' must not beapplied to demoniacs after they have eaten, for fear they will vomit. Heworried about their stomachs, this worthy man. Wasn't it also he whodecreed that the torture must not be repeated twice in the same day, soas to give fear and pain a chance to calm down? Admit that the goodJesuit was not devoid of delicacy!"
"Docre," Gevingey went on, not paying any attention to the words of DesHermies, "is the only individual who has rediscovered the ancientsecrets and who obtains results in practise. He is rather more powerful,I would have you believe, than all those fools and quacks of whom wehave been speaking. And they know the terrible canon, for he has sentmany of them serious attacks of ophthalmia which the oculists cannotcure. So they tremble when the name Docre is pronounced in theirpresence."
"But how did a priest fall so low?"
"I can't say. If you wish ampler information about him," said Gevingey,addressing Des Hermies, "question your friend Chantelouve."
"Chantelouve!" cried Durtal.
"Yes, he and his wife used to be quite intimate with Canon Docre, but Ihope for their sakes that they have long since ceased to have dealingswith the monster."
Durtal listened no more. Mme. Chantelouve knew Canon Docre! Ah, was sheSatanic, too? No, she certainly did not act like a possessed. "Surelythis astrologer is cracked," he thought. She! And he called her imagebefore him, and thought that tomorrow night she would probably giveherself to him. Ah, those strange eyes of hers, those dark cloudssuddenly cloven by radiant light!
She came now and took complete possession of him, as before he hadascended to the tower. "But if I didn't love you would I have come toyou?" That sentence which she had spoken, with a caressing inflection ofthe voice, he heard again, and again he saw her mocking and tender face.
"Ah, you are dreaming," said Des Hermies, tapping him on the shoulder."We have to go. It's striking ten."
When they were in the street they said good night to Gevingey, who livedon the other side of the river. Then they walked along a little way.
"Well," said Des Hermies, "are you interested in my astrologer?"
"He is slightly mad, isn't he?"
"Slightly? Humph."
"Well, his stories are incredible."
"Everything is incredible," said Des Hermies placidly, turning up thecollar of his overcoat. "However, I will admit that Gevingey astounds mewhen he asserts that he was visited by a succubus. His good faith is notto be doubted, for I know him to be a man who means what he says, thoughhe is vain and doctorial. I know, too, that at La Salpetriere suchoccurrences are not rare. Women smitten with hystero-epilepsy seephantoms beside them in broad daylight and mate with them in acataleptic state, and every night couch with visions that must beexactly like the fluid creatures of incubacy. But these women arehystero-epileptics, and Gevingey isn't, for I am his physician. Then,what can be believed and what can be proved? The materialists have takenthe trouble to revise the accounts of the sorcery trials of old. Theyhave found in the possession-cases of the Ursulines of Loudun and thenuns of Poitiers, in the history, even, of the convulsionists of SaintMedard, the symptoms of major hysteria, the same contractions of thewhole system, the same muscular dissolutions, the same lethargies, even,finally, the famous arc of the circle. And what does this demonstrate,that these demonomaniacs were hystero-epileptics? Certainly. Theobservations of Dr. Richet, expert in such matters, are conclusive, butwherein do they invalidate possession? From the fact that the patientsof La Salpetriere are not possessed, though they are hysterical, does itfollow that others, smitten with the same malady as they, are notpossessed? It would have to be demonstrated also that all demonopathicsare hysterical, and that is false, for there are women of sound mind andperfectly good sense who are demo
nopathic without knowing it. Andadmitting that the last point is controvertible, there remains thisunanswerable question: is a woman possessed because she is hysterical,or is she hysterical because she is possessed? Only the Church cananswer. Science cannot.
"No, come to think it over, the effrontery of the positivists isappalling. They decree that Satanism does not exist. They lay everythingat the account of major hysteria, and they don't even know what thisfrightful malady is and what are its causes. No doubt Charcot determinesvery well the phases of the attack, notes the nonsensical and passionalattitudes, the contortionistic movements; he discovers hysterogeniczones and can, by skilfully manipulating the ovaries, arrest oraccelerate the crises, but as for foreseeing them and learning thesources and the motives and curing them, that's another thing. Sciencegoes all to pieces on the question of this inexplicable, stupefyingmalady, which, consequently, is subject to the most diversifiedinterpretations, not one of which can be declared exact. For the soulenters into this, the soul in conflict with the body, the souloverthrown in the demoralization of the nerves. You see, old man, allthis is as dark as a bottle of ink. Mystery is everywhere and reasoncannot see its way."
"Mmmm," said Durtal, who was now in front of his door. "Since anythingcan be maintained and nothing is certain, succubacy has it. Basically itis more literary--and cleaner--than positivism."
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