Whilst M.Baleinier was speaking, Adrienne's countenance, which had hitherto expressed alternately indignation and disdain, assumed an indefinable look of anguish and horror.On hearing this man talk in such a natural manner, and with such an appearance of sincerity, justice and reason, she felt herself more alarmed than ever.An atrocious deception, clothed in such forms, frightened her a hundred times more than the avowed hatred of Madame de Saint-Dizier.This audacious hypocrisy seemed to her so monstrous, that she believed it almost impossible.
Adrienne had so little the art of hiding her emotions, that the doctor, a skillful and profound physiognomist, instantly perceived the impression he had produced."Come," said he to himself, "that is a great step.
Fright has succeeded to disdain and anger.Doubt will come next.I shall not leave this place, till she has said to me: `Return soon, my good M.Baleinier!' "With a voice of sorrowful emotion, which seemed to come from the very depths of his heart, the doctor thus continued: "I see, you are still suspicious of me.All I can say to you is falsehood, fraud, hypocrisy, hate--is it not so?--Hate you? why, in heaven's name, should I hate you? What have you done to me? or rather--you will perhaps attach more value to this reason from a man of my sort," added M.
Baleinier, bitterly, "or rather, what interest have I to hate you?--You, that have only been reduced to the state in which you are by an over-
abundance of the most generous instincts--you, that are suffering, as it were, from an excess of good qualities--you can bring yourself coolly and deliberately to accuse an honest man, who has never given you any but marks of affection, of the basest, the blackest, the most abominable crime, of which a human being could be guilty.Yes, I call it a crime;
because the audacious deception of which you accuse me would not deserve any other name.Really, my poor child, it is hard--very hard--and I now see, that an independent spirit may sometimes exhibit as much injustice and intolerance as the most narrow mind.It does not incense me--no--it only pains me: yes, I assure you--it pains me cruelly." And the doctor drew his hand across his moist eyes.
It is impossible to give the accent, the look, the gesture of M.
Baleinier, as he thus expressed himself.The most able and practiced lawyer, or the greatest actor in the world, could not have played this scene with more effect than the doctor--or rather, no one could have played it so well -M.Baleinier, carried away by the influence of the situations, was himself half convinced of what he said.
In few words, he felt all the horror of his own perfidy but he felt also that Adrienne could not believe it; for there are combinations of such nefarious character, that pure and upright minds are unable to comprehend them as possible.If a lofty spirit looks down into the abyss of evil, beyond a certain depth it is seized with giddiness, and no longer able to distinguish one object from the other.
And then the most perverse of men have a day, an hour, a moment, in which the good instincts, planted in the heart of every creature, appear in spite of themselves.Adrienne was too interesting, was in too cruel a position, for the doctor mot to feel some pity for her in his heart; the tone of sympathy, which for some time past he had been obliged to assume towards her, and the sweet confidence of the young girl in return, had become for this man habitual and necessary ratifications.But sympathy and habit were now to yield to implacable necessity.
Thus the Marquis d'Aigrigny had idolized his mother; dying, she called him to her--and he turned away from the last prayer of a parent in the agony of death.After such an example, how could M.Baleinier hesitate to sacrifice Adrienne? The members of the Order, of which he formed a part, were bound to him--but he was perhaps still more strongly bound to them, for a long partnership in evil creates terrible and indissoluble ties.
The moment M.Baleinier finished his fervid address to Mdlle.de Cardoville, the slide of the wicket in the door was softly pushed back, and a pair of eyes peered attentively into the chamber, unperceived by the doctor.
Adrienne could not withdraw her gaze from the physician's, which seemed to fascinate her.Mute, overpowered, seized with a vague terror, unable to penetrate the dark depths of this man's soul, moved in spite of herself by the accent of sorrow, half feigned and half real--the young lady had a momentary feeling of doubt.For the first time, it came into her mind, that M.Baleinier might perhaps be committing a frightful error--committing it in good faith.
Besides, the anguish of the past night, the dangers of her position, her feverish agitation, all concurred to fill her mind with trouble and indecision.She looked at the physician with ever increasing surprise, and making a violent effort not to yield to a weakness, of which she partly foresaw the dreadful consequences, she exclaimed: "No, no, sir; I will not, I cannot believe it.You have too much skill, too much experience, to commit such an error."
"An error!" said M.Baleinier, in a grave and sorrowful tone."Let me speak to you in the name of that skill and experience, which you are pleased to ascribe to me.Hear me but for a moment, my dear child; and then I will appeal to yourself."
"To me!" replied the young girl, in a kind of stupor; "you wish to persuade me, that--" Then, interrupting herself, she added, with a convulsive laugh: "This only is wanting to your triumph--to bring me to confess that I am mad--that my proper place is here--that I owe you -"
"Gratitude.Yes, you do owe it me, even as I told you at the commencement of this conversation.Listen to me then; my words may be cruel, but there are wounds which can only be cured with steel and fire.
