UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 S' 
 
 iODIES 
 FOR OLD 
 
 The Strange Experiments of 
 
 Dr. Lerne 
 
 by 
 
 ^) 
 
 To the once beautiful Chateau Fonval, 
 hidden away in a lonely, wooded section of the 
 Ardennes— now the retreat of the famous 
 surgeon-scientist, Dr. Lerne— comes Nicolas 
 \'crmont, the great man's nephew. From the 
 moment he is usJiered into the secret Ufe of 
 Konval, a series of truly startling incidents 
 occur. 
 
 Associated with Dr. Lerne are two famous 
 German scientists. The world has whispered 
 about the mysterious experiments going on 
 behind Fonval's locked and guarded gates, so, 
 though prepared to be surprised, young 
 .Xicolas is left aghast at the horrors and won- 
 ders which, despite his uncle's caution, are 
 biot to be concealed. 
 
 From these marvels, this profanation of Na- 
 ure, he turns away with his blood cold to 
 nd a - beautiful girl held prisoner in the 
 :hateau. She warns him that other men have 
 isappeared mysteriously from Fonval, that if 
 ^ e stays, he will end up in the laboratory. 
 The net closes about him, but kis aiTection 
 for the girl holds him. And. his fate? For 
 [hcer thrill nothing to equal it has happened 
 ~ fiction since Poe. 
 
 ^ Mystery lurks at every turn ; baffling situa- 
 tions confront the reader continually; and of. 
 only less interest is the love story of the 
 strange girl who through her sex appeal exerts 
 - xh a powerful influence over the inhabitants 
 •'' Fonval. And Dr. Lemes goal—? It stag 
 .,ris belief, and by comparison the Steimacl 
 i-itnd transference seem trivial. 
 
 -v foi 
 
 m 
 
THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 ENDOWED BY THE 
 
 DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC 
 
 SOCIETIES 
 
 PQ2635 
 .E5 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 k 
 
NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/newbodiesforoldOOrena 
 
NEW BODIES 
 
 FOR OLD ^il^^^ 
 
 A/y 
 
 BY 
 
 MAURICE RENARD 
 
 ({' V:! ft^-WlfJj 5/ f^rKhc^ I 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE MACAULAY COMPANY 
 
Copyright, 1923 
 By MAURICE RENARD 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 To H. G. Wells: 
 
 I beg you, Sir, to accept this book. 
 
 Of all the pleasures that its writing gave me, 
 that of dedicating it to you is assuredly not the 
 least. 
 
 I conceived it under the inspiration of ideas 
 that you cherish, and I could have wished that it 
 had come nearer to your own works than it does, 
 not in merit — that would be an absurd pretension 
 — but, at any rate, in that pleasant quality shown 
 in all your books, which allows the chastest minds, 
 as well as those that exact the greatest realism, to 
 have communion with your genius — a communion 
 which the ablest people of our time can acknowl- 
 edge without feeling its charm lessened by such 
 considerations. 
 
 But when Fortune for good or ill allowed me 
 to discover the subject of this allegorical novel, I 
 felt bound not to set it aside because of a few 
 audacities which a faithful rendering involved and 
 which an arrest of development alone — that is, a 
 crime against the literary conscience — could avoid. 
 
vi DEDICATION 
 
 You now know — you could have guessed as 
 much — what I should like people to think of my 
 work, If by chance any one did it the unexpected 
 honor of thinking about it at all. Far from de- 
 
 f siring to arouse the creature of instinct in my 
 reader and amuse him with scandalous descrip- 
 tions, my work is addressed to the philosopher 
 anxious for Truth amid the marvels of Fiction and 
 for Orderliness amid the tumult of imaginary 
 Adventures. 
 
 L That, Sir, is why I beg you to accept it. 
 
 M. R. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction 9 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I Nocturne i6 
 
 II Among the Sphinxes 38 
 
 III The Conservatory 65 
 
 IV Hot and Cold 84 
 
 V 'The Madman" loi 
 
 VI Nell — the St. Bernard 117 
 
 VII Thus Spake Mlle. Bourdichet . . 136 
 
 VIII Rashness 154 
 
 IX The Ambush 171 
 
 X The Circeean Operation . . . . 192 
 
 XI In the Paddock 217 
 
 XII Lerne Changes His Method of Attack 235 
 
 XIII Experiments! Hallucinations! . . 253 
 
 XIV Death and the Mask 262 
 
 XV The New Beast 279 
 
 XVI The Wizard Finally Dies .... 300 
 
NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 

 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 It all happened on a certain winter evening 
 more than a year ago, after the last men's dinner- 
 party I gave to my friends in the little house 
 which I had taken furnished in the Avenue Victor 
 Hugo. 
 
 As my projected move was nothing more than 
 the gratification of my vagrant fancy, we had cele- 
 brated my house-MWwarming as joyfully as we had 
 celebrated the warming of yore, and the time for 
 liqueurs having come (and also the time for jokes) 
 each of us did his best to shine — more especially 
 of course, that naughty fellow Gilbert, Marlotte, 
 our paradoxical friend, the "Triboulet" of our 
 band, and Cardaillac, our licensed wizard. 
 
 I cannot remember now exactly how it came 
 about, but after an hour spent in the smoking- 
 room, somebody switched off the electric light, and 
 urged us to have some table-turning; so we 
 grouped ourselves in the darkness round a little 
 table. This "somebody" (please observe) was 
 
 9 
 
10 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 not Cardalllac; but perhaps he was In league with 
 Cardaillac — if indeed Cardaillac was the guilty 
 party. 
 
 We were exactly eight men in all, eight skeptics 
 versus a little insignificant table which had only 
 one stem divided off at the end into three legs, and 
 whose round top bent under our sixteen hands 
 placed on it in accordance with occult rites ! 
 
 It was Marlotte who instructed us in these rites. 
 He had at one time been an anxious inquirer about 
 witchcraft, and familiar with table-turning, though 
 merely as an outsider, and as he was our custom- 
 ary buffoon, when we saw him assume the direc- 
 tion of the seance, every one just let himself go in 
 anticipation of some excellent clowning. 
 
 Cardaillac found himself my right-hand neigh- 
 bor. I heard him stifle a laugh in his throat and 
 cough. Then the table began to turn. 
 
 Gilbert questioned it, and to his obvious stupe- 
 faction it replied by dry cracklings like those made 
 by creaking woodwork, and corresponding to the 
 esoteric alphabet. 
 
 Marlotte translated in a quavering voice. 
 
 Then everybody wanted to question the table ; 
 and in its replies it gave proof of great sagacity. 
 The audience became serious; one did not know 
 what to think. Queries leapt to our lips, and the 
 replies were rapped out from the foot of the table, 
 near me — as I fancied — and towards my right. 
 
INTRODUCTION 1 1 
 
 "Who will live in this house in a year's time?" 
 asked in his turn he who had proposed the spirit- 
 ualistic amusement. 
 
 "Oh, if you question it about the future," said 
 Marlotte, "you will only get back thumping lies, 
 or else it will hold its tongue." 
 
 "Oh, shut up," interposed Cardaillac. The 
 question was repeated — "Who will live in this 
 house in a year's time?" 
 
 "Nobody," said the interpreter. 
 
 "And in two years' time?" 
 
 "Nicolas Vermont." 
 
 All of us heard this name for the first time. 
 
 "What will he be doing at this very hour on the 
 anniversary of to-day? Tell us what he is doing 
 — speak." 
 
 "He is beginning ... to write here . . . his 
 adventures." 
 
 "Can you read what he writes?" 
 
 "Yes . . . and also what he will write." 
 
 "Tell us the beginning, just the beginning." 
 
 "Am tired — alphabet too tedious — Give type- 
 writer . . . will inspire typist." 
 
 A murmur went round in the darkness. I rose 
 and went to fetch my typewriter, and it was placed 
 upon the table. 
 
 "It's a 'Watson' " said the table. "I won't 
 have it. Am a French table. Want a French 
 machine . . . want a 'Durand.' " 
 
12 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 " 'A Durand?' " said my neighbor on the left, 
 In a disillusioned tone. "Does that brand exist? 
 I don't know it." 
 
 "Nor I." 
 
 "Nor I." 
 
 "Nor I." 
 
 We were much vexed at this untoward circum- 
 stance, when the voice of Cardaillac said slowly: 
 
 "I use nothing but a 'Durand,' would you like 
 me to fetch it ?" 
 
 "Can you type without seeing?" 
 
 "I shall be back in a quarter of an hour," said 
 he — and he went out without answering. 
 
 "Oh, if Cardaillac is going to take it up," said 
 one of the guests, "we shall have a merry time." 
 
 However, when the lights were turned up, the 
 faces seemed sterner than one would have ex- 
 pected. Marlotte was quite pale. 
 
 Cardaillac came back in a very short time — an 
 astonishingly short time, one might have said. 
 He sat down In front of the table facing his 
 "Durand" machine, and darkness was once more 
 established. Suddenly the table declared: "No 
 need of others. . . . Put your feet on mine 
 . . . type." 
 
 One heard the tapping of the fingers on the 
 keys. 
 
 "It's extraordinary I" exclaimed the typist- 
 
INTRODUCTION 13 
 
 medium, "It's extraordinary I My hands are 
 writing of their own accord." 
 
 "What bosh!" whispered Marlotte. 
 
 "I swear they are, I swear it," said Cardaillac. 
 
 We remained a long time listening to the tap- 
 ping of the keys which was every now and then 
 broken by the ringing of the bell at the end of the 
 line and the rasping of the carriage. Every five 
 minutes a sheet was handed to us. We decided 
 to retire to the drawing-room and to read them 
 aloud as Gilbert, getting them from Cardaillac, 
 handed them to us. 
 
 Page 79 was deciphered in the morning light 
 and the machine stopped. 
 
 But what it had typed seemed to us exciting 
 enough to make us beg Cardaillac to be good 
 enough to give us the sequel. 
 
 He did so. And when he had passed many 
 nights seated at the little table with his typing 
 keyboard, we had the complete story of M. Ver- 
 mont's adventures. 
 
 The reader shall now be told them. 
 
 They are strange and scandalous; their future 
 scribe is bound not to think of printing them. 
 He ivill burn them as soon as they are finished; so 
 that, had it not been for the complaisance of the 
 little table, no one would ever have turned the 
 leaves. That is why I, convinced of their au- 
 
14 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 thenticlty, consider It piquant to publish them 
 beforehand. 
 
 For I hold them to be "veridical," — as the elect 
 call it — although they have some of the character- 
 istics of wild caricature, and rather resemble an 
 art-student's funny sketch penciled by way of com- 
 mentary on the margin of an engraving represent- 
 ing Science herself. 
 
 Are they possibly apocryphal? Well, fables 
 are reputed to be more seductive than History, 
 and Cardaillac's will not seem inferior to many 
 another one. 
 
 My hope, however, is that "Dr. Lerne" is the 
 truthful account of real happenings, for in that 
 case, since the little table uttered a prophecy, the 
 tribulations of the hero have not yet begun, and 
 they will be running their course at the very time 
 that this book is divulging them — a very inter- 
 esting circumstance indeed. 
 f At any rate I shall certainly know In two years' 
 time if M. Nicolas Vermont lives in the little 
 house in the Avenue Victor Hugo. Something 
 assures me of it in advance — for how can one ac- 
 cept the idea of Cardaillac — a serious-minded and 
 intelligent fellow — squandering so many hours 
 in composing such a fable? That is my principal 
 argument in favor of its truthfulness. 
 
 However, if any conscientious reader desires 
 to find reasons for the faith that is In him, let 
 
INTRODUCTION 15 
 
 him betake himself to Grey-l 'Abbaye. There he 
 will be informed about the existence of Professor 
 Lerne and his habits. For my part I have not 
 got the leisure for that, but I entreat any one who 
 may undertake the search to let me know the 
 truth, being myself very desirous of getting to the 
 bottom of the question whether the following tale 
 is a mystification of Cardaillac's, or was really 
 typed out by a clairvoyant table. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 NOCTURNE 
 
 The first Sunday in June was drawing to a 
 close. The shadow of the motor-car was fleeting 
 on ahead of me and getting longer every moment. 
 
 Ever since the morning, people had been look- 
 ing at me with anxious faces as I passed, just as 
 one looks at a scene in a melodrama. With my 
 leather helmet which gave me the look of a bald 
 skull, my glasses like port-holes, or the eye-sockets 
 of a skeleton, and my body clothed in tanned 
 skin, I must have seemed to them some queer seal 
 from the nether regions, or one of St. Anthony's 
 demons, fleeing from the sunlight towards the 
 night. In order to enter therein. 
 
 And to tell the truth, I had almost a soul like 
 that of one of the Lost; for such is the soul of a 
 solitary traveler who has been for seven hours at 
 a stretch on a racing-car. His spirit has some- 
 thing like a nightmare In It; In place of thought, 
 an obsession is settled there. Mine was a little 
 peremptory phrase — "Come alone, and give no- 
 tice" — which, like a tenacious goblin, worried my 
 
 16 
 
NOCTURNE 17 
 
 lonely mind, overstrained as it was with joltings 
 and speed. 
 
 And yet this strange injunction "come alone 
 and give notice" doubly underlined by my Uncle 
 Lerne in his letter, had not at first struck me ex- 
 cessively. But now that I was obeying it — being 
 alone and having given notice — and rolling along 
 towards the Castle of Fonval, the inexplicable 
 command insisted, so to speak, on displaying all 
 its strangeness. My eyes began to see the fateful 
 expression everywhere, and my ears made it sound 
 in every noise in spite of my efforts to drive away 
 the fixed idea. If I wanted to know the name of 
 a village, the sign-post announced "Come alone"; 
 "Give notice" followed in the wake of a bird's 
 flight, and the engine, unresting and exasperating, 
 repeated thousands and thousands of times: 
 "Come alone, come alone, come alone, give notice, 
 give notice, give notice." Then I began to ask 
 myself the wherefore of this wish of my uncle, 
 and not being able to find the reason, I ardently 
 longed for the arrival which should solve the 
 mystery, less curious in reality about the doubtless 
 commonplace answer, than exasperated by so 
 despotic a question. 
 
 Fortunately I was drawing near, and the coun- 
 try growing more and more familiar spoke so 
 clearly of the old days, that the haunting question 
 relaxed its insistence. The town of Nanthel, 
 
1 8 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 populous and busy, detained me, but on coming 
 out of the suburbs I at last perceived, like a vague 
 and very distant cloud, the heights of the Ardennes 
 Mountains. 
 
 Evening draws on. Desiring to reach the goal 
 before night I open out to the full. The car 
 hums, and under it the road is engulfed in a 
 whirl; it seems to enter the car to be rolled up in 
 it, as the yards of ribbon roll themselves up on a 
 reel. Speed makes its hurricane wind whistle in 
 my ears ; a swarm of mosquitoes riddle my face like 
 small shot, and all sorts of little creatures patter 
 on my goggles. 
 
 Now the sun is on my right ; it is on the horizon ; 
 the acclivities and declivities of the road, raising 
 me up and sinking me down very quickly, make the 
 sun rise and set for me several times in succes- 
 sion. It disappears. I dash through the dusk as 
 hard as my brave engine can go — and I fancy that 
 the 234 XY has never been excelled. This makes 
 the Ardennes about half an hour away. The 
 cloudy offing is already putting on a green tinge, a 
 forest color, and my heart has leapt within me. 
 Fifteen years I I have not seen those dear great 
 woods for fifteen years — they were my old holiday 
 friends. 
 
 For it is there, it is in their shadow that the 
 chateau hides in the depths of an enormous hol- 
 low. ... I remember that hollow very distinctly 
 
NOCTURNE 19 
 
 and I can already distinguish its whereabouts — a 
 dark stain indicates it. Indeed it is the most 
 extraordinary ravine. My late aunt, Lidivine 
 Lerne, who was fond of legends, would have it 
 that Satan, furious at some disappointment, had 
 scooped it out with a single blow of his gigantic 
 hoof. This origin is disputed. In any case the 
 metaphor gives a vivid picture of the place, an 
 amphitheater with precipitous walls of rock, with 
 no other outlet than a large defile opening on the 
 fields. The plain in other words penetrates into 
 the mountain like a gulf of the sea ; it there forms 
 a blind-alley, the perpendicular walls of which rise 
 as It spreads, and whose end is rounded off In a 
 wide sweep. The result is that one gets to Fonval 
 without the least climb, although it is right in the 
 bosom of the mountain. The park is the inner 
 part of the circle, and the cliff serves as a natural 
 wall, except in the direction of the defile. This 
 latter is separated from the domain by a wall into 
 which a gateway has been let. A long avenue 
 leads up to it, straight, and lined with lime trees. 
 In a few minutes I shall be in it . . . and soon 
 after I shall know why nobody must follow me to 
 Fonval — "come alone and give notice" — why 
 these orders? 
 
 Patience. The mass of the Ardennes cleaves 
 itself Into clumps. At the rate I am going, each 
 clump seems in motion; gliding rapidly; the 
 
20 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 crests pass one behind the other, draw near or 
 draw off, seem lower and then rise again with the 
 majesty of waves, and the spectacle is incessantly 
 varying like that of a titanic sea. 
 
 A turn in the road unmasks a hamlet, I know It 
 well. In the old days, every year, in the month of 
 August, It was before that station that my uncle's 
 carriage, with Biribi in the shafts, awaited m.y 
 mother and me. We used to go there for the 
 holidays. All hail Grey-l'Abbaye ! Fonval is 
 only three kilometers distant now. I could go 
 there blindfold. Here Is the road leading 
 straight to the place, the road which will soon 
 plunge Into the woods and take the name of 
 Avenue. 
 
 It Is almost night. A peasant shouts some- 
 thing at me — insults probably. I'm accustomed 
 to that. My hooter replies with Its threatening 
 and mournful cry. 
 
 The forest! Ah, what a potent perfume it has 
 for me — the perfume of the old-time holidays ! 
 Can their memory bring any other odor than that 
 of the forest? It Is an exquisite odor. ... I 
 should like to prolong this festival of scent. 
 
 Slowing down, the car goes on gently. Its 
 sound becomes a murmur. Right and left the 
 cliff walls of the wide gully begin to rise. Were 
 there more light, I should be coming Into sight of 
 
NOCTURNE 21 
 
 Fonval at the end of the straight line of the ave- 
 nue. Hullo! What's up? . . . 
 
 I had almost upset; the road had unexpectedly 
 made a bend. 
 
 I slackened off still more. A little further on 
 another bend — then another. . . . 
 
 I stopped. 
 
 The stars one by one were beginning to shed 
 their luminous dew. In the light of the Spring 
 evening I could see above me the high mountain- 
 crests, and the direction of their slopes astonished 
 me. I tried to back, and discovered a bifurcation 
 which I had not noted in passing. When I had 
 taken the road to the right, it offered me after 
 several windings a new branching-off — like a 
 riddle; and then I guided myself in the Fonval di- 
 rection according to the lie of the cliffs that ran 
 towards the chateau, but new cross-roads embar- 
 rassed me. What had become of the straight 
 avenue? . . . The thing utterly puzzled me. 
 
 I switched on the head-lights. For a long time 
 by the aid of their light I wandered among the 
 criss-crossing of the alleys without being able to 
 find my way, so many various offshoots joined the 
 open places, and so balking were the blind-alleys. 
 It seemed to me I had already passed a certain 
 birch-tree. Moreover the cliff walls always re- 
 mained at the same height; so that I was really 
 turning in a maze and making no advance. Had 
 
22 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 the peasant of Grey tried to warn me ? It seemed 
 probable. 
 
 None the less, trusting to chance, and piqued by 
 the contretemps, I went on with my exploration. 
 Three times the same crossing showed in the field 
 of light of my lamps, and three times I came on 
 that same birch-tree by different roads. 
 
 I wanted to call for help. Unfortunately the 
 hooter went wrong, and I had no horn. As for 
 my voice, the distance which separated me from 
 Grey on the one side and Fonval on the other 
 would have prevented its being heard. 
 
 Then a fear assailed me ... if my petrol gave 
 out! ... I halted in the middle of a cross-road 
 and tested the level. My tank was almost empty. 
 What would be the good in exhausting it in vain 
 evolutions ! After all, it seemed to me an easy 
 thing to reach the chateau on foot through the 
 woods. ... I tried it. But wire-fences hidden 
 in the bushes blocked the way. 
 
 Assuredly this labyrinth was not a practical 
 joke played at the entrance of a garden, but a de- 
 fensive contrivance to protect the approaches of 
 some retreat. 
 
 Much out of countenance, I began to reflect. 
 
 "Uncle Lerne, I don't understand you at all," 
 thought I. "You received the notice of my ar- 
 rival this morning, and here am I detained in the 
 most abominable of landscape-gardens. . . . What 
 
NOCTURNE 23 
 
 fantastic idea made you contrive it? Have you 
 changed more than I thought? You would hardly 
 have dreamt of such fortifications fifteen years 
 ago." 
 
 . . . "Fifteen years ago, the night, no doubt, 
 resembled this one. The heavens were alive with 
 the same glitter, and already the toads were en- 
 livening the silence with their clear short cries, so 
 pure and sweet. A nightingale was warbling its 
 trills as that one now is doing. Uncle, that eve- 
 ning of long ago was delicious too. And yet my 
 aunt and my mother had just died, within eight 
 days of one another, and the sisters having dis- 
 appeared, we remained face to face, one a wid- 
 ower, and the other an orphan — you, uncle, 
 and I." 
 
 And the man of those far-off days stood before 
 my mind's eye as the town of Nanthel knew him 
 then, the surgeon already celebrated at thirty-five 
 for the skill of his hand and the success of his 
 bold methods, and who in spite of his fame, re- 
 mained faithful to his native town — Dr. Frederic 
 Lerne, Professor of Clinical Medicine at the 
 "Ecole de Medecine," corresponding member of 
 numerous learned societies, decorated with many 
 divers orders, and — to omit nothing — guardian of 
 his nephew, Nicolas Vermont. 
 
 This new father whom the Law assigned me I 
 had not met often, for he took no holidays and 
 
24 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 only passed his summer Sundays at Fonval. And 
 even these he spent In work — ceaseless and secret 
 work. On those days his passion for horticulture, 
 suppressed all the week, kept him shut up in the 
 little hot-house with his tulips and his orchids. 
 
 And yet, in spite of the rarity of our meetings, 
 I knew him well and loved him dearly. 
 
 He was a sturdy man, calm and sober, rather 
 cold perhaps, but so kind. In my irreverent way 
 I called his shaven face an "old wife's face," and 
 my jesting was quite misplaced, for sometimes he 
 would turn it into an antique visage, lofty and 
 grave, and sometimes into one of delicate mockery 
 ("Regency" style). Among our modern shave- 
 lings my uncle was of the few whose head and 
 face by their nobility prove their legitimate de- 
 scent from an ancestor draped In a toga, and a 
 grandfather clothed in satin, and would allow 
 their scion to wear the costumes of his ancestors 
 without putting them to shame. 
 
 For the moment Lerne appeared to me decked 
 out in a black overcoat rather badly cut, in which 
 I had seen him for the last time — when I was 
 setting out for Spain. Being a rich man, and 
 wishing me to be one too, my uncle had sent me 
 Into the cork business as an employee of the firm 
 Gomez & Co. of Badajoz. 
 
 And my exile had lasted fifteen years, during 
 which the position of the Professor had certainly 
 
NOCTURNE 25 
 
 become better, to judge by the sensational opera- 
 tions he had performed, the fame of which had 
 reached me in the depths of Estremadura. 
 
 As for me, my affairs had come to grief. At 
 the end of fifteen years, despairing of ever selling 
 safety-belts and cork on my own account, I had 
 just returned to France to seek another trade, 
 when Fate procured me that of an independent 
 man. It was I who won the lucky number for a 
 million francs, the donor of which wished to re- 
 main incognito. 
 
 In Paris I took comfortable rooms, but without 
 luxury. My flat was convenient and unpreten- 
 tious. I had the bare necessaries plus a motor- 
 car and minus a family. 
 
 But before founding a new family, it seemed to 
 me the right thing to renew relations with the old 
 — that is to say with Lerne, and I wrote to him. 
 
 Not but what after our separation a regular 
 correspondence had been established between us. 
 At the beginning he had given me wise advice and 
 had shown himself pleasantly paternal. His first 
 letter indeed contained the announcement of a 
 Will in my favor hidden in the secret drawer of a 
 desk at Fonval. 
 
 After the rendering of his accounts as guardian 
 our relations remained as before. Then, sud- 
 denly, his messages became different in character, 
 and grew fewer and fewer, their tone becoming 
 
26 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 that of boredom, then of annoyance. The matter 
 was commonplace, then vulgar, and the phrasing 
 awkward; the very writing seemed to alter. Each 
 time he wrote, these things became more marked, 
 and I had to limit myself every ist of January to 
 sending my best wishes. My uncle replied with 
 a few scribbled words. . . . Wounded in the only 
 affection I possessed, I was much afflicted. 
 
 What had happened? 
 
 A year before this sudden change — five years 
 before my return to Fonval and my wanderings in 
 the labyrinth— I had read in the "Epoca" : 
 
 "We have received the news from Paris that Professor 
 Lerne is saying good-by to his patients in order to devote 
 himself to scientific research begun in the hospital of 
 Nanthel. With this aim that excellent physician is retir-. 
 ing to the neighborhood of the tov^^n in the Ardennes, to 
 his chateau of Fonval M^hich has been arranged for that 
 purpose. He is taking with him among others, Dr. Klotz 
 of Mannheim and the three assistants of the Anatomisches 
 Institut founded by this latter at 22, Friedrichstrasse, 
 which has now closed its doors — when shall we have 
 results?"' ' ■ 
 
 Lerne had confirmed this event to me in an 
 enthusiastic letter, which, however, added nothing 
 to the bald facts in the paragraph. And it was a 
 year later on, I say again, that the change in his 
 nature had taken place. Had twelve months of 
 work ended in failure? Had some bitter disap- 
 pointment so gravely affected the Professor that 
 
NOCTURNE 27 
 
 he should treat me like a stranger and almost as if 
 I were a bore? . . . 
 
 In defiance of his hostility I wrote respectfully 
 and with the utmost possible affection from Paris 
 the letter in which I told him of my good fortune, 
 and I asked his leave to pay him a visit. 
 
 Never was invitation less engaging than his. 
 He asked me to give him warning of my arrival 
 so that he might order a carriage to go and fetch 
 me from the station. "You will doubtless not re- 
 main long at Fonval," he added, "for Fonval is 
 not a gay place. We are hard at work. Come 
 alone and give notice " 
 
 But, Heavens ! I had given notice and I was 
 alone ! — I who had considered my visit as a duty ! 
 Well, well, that was merely a piece of stupidity 
 on my part. 
 
 And I gazed in bad humor at the star of light 
 on the roads where the exhausted head-lamps were 
 casting no brighter an illumination than a night- 
 light. 
 
 Without doubt I was going to pass the night in 
 that sylvan jail; nothing would get me out of it 
 before day. The toads of the pool in the Fonval 
 direction called me in vain; vainly the steeple 
 clock of Grey rang out the hours to tell me of 
 the other resting-place — for belfries are really 
 sonorous lighthouses — I was a prisoner. 
 
 A prisoner! It made me smile. Long ago 
 
28 NEW BODIES FOR OLD • 
 
 how frightened I should have been ! A prisoner 
 in the Ardennes ! At the mercy of Broceliande, 
 the monstrous forest which with its cavernous 
 shade held a world in darkness between its bound- 
 aries, one being at Blois and the other in Constan- 
 tinople ! Broceliande ! that scene of epic tales 
 and puerile legends, country of the four sons of 
 Aymon and of Hop-o'-my-Thumb, the forest of 
 druids and goblins, the wood in which Sleeping 
 Beauty fell into slumber* while Charlemagne kept 
 watch! What fantastic stories had not its 
 thickets for a stage — were not the trees them- 
 selves living persons? "Oh, Aunt Lidivine," I 
 murmured, "how well you* could give life to all 
 those nonsensical tales every'evening after dinner! 
 The dear lady! Did she ever suspect the influ- 
 ence of her stories? Aunt, did you know that all 
 your astounding puppets invaded my life by pass- 
 ing through my dreams? Do you know that a 
 flourish of enchanted trumpets still sounds in my 
 ears sometimes ; you who made my nights at Fon- 
 val resound with the oliphant of Roland and the 
 horn of Oberon?" 
 
 At that moment I could not check a movement 
 of vexation; the head-lamps had just gone out 
 after an agonized throb. For a second the dark- 
 ness was total, and at the same time there was 
 such a profound silence that I could well believe I 
 had suddenly become blind and deaf. 
 
NOCTURNE 29 
 
 Then my eyes gradually became unsealed, and 
 soon the crescent moon appeared, shedding its 
 snowy light on the cold night. The forest became 
 lit up with a frozen whiteness. I shivered. In 
 my aunt's lifetime it would have been with terror; 
 I should have beheld in the darkness, where the 
 vapors were creeping, dragons wallowing and ser- 
 pents- gliding. An owl flew off. I should have 
 considered that bird the winged helm of a paladin 
 — an.enchanted paladin. The birch tree, standing 
 straight up, shone with a lance-like gleam. An 
 oak tree — a son perhaps of the magic tree which 
 was the husband of the Princess Leelina — quiv- 
 ered. It was huge and druidical — a bunch of 
 mistletoe hung on its main branch, and the moon 
 cut through it with a shining sacred sickle. 
 
 Assuredly the nocturnal landscape was like an 
 hallucination. For want of something better to 
 do, I meditated on it. Without understanding 
 why as well as I do to-day, I used to experience all 
 its suggestiveness, and at nightfall I only ven- 
 tured out unwillingly. Fonval itself was, I think, 
 in spite of its countless flowers and its beautiful 
 winding alleys, a most forbidding place. Its 
 pointed windows, its hundred years old park in- 
 habited by statues, the stagnant water of its pond, 
 the precipice which closed it in, the Hell-like en- 
 trance, all these things made that ancient abbey 
 ((transformed into a chateau) peculiar even in 
 
30 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 daylight, and one would not have been surprised 
 to learn that everybody there talked in fables. 
 That would have been his real language. 
 
 That at any rate was how I talked, and still 
 more how I acted, during my holidays. These 
 were for me a long fairy tale in which I played 
 with imaginary or artificial personages, living in 
 the water, in the trees, and under the earth oftener 
 than upon it. If I passed the lawn galloping with 
 my bare legs, my air clearly showed the squadrons 
 of knights were, in my fancy, charging behind me. 
 And the old boat I masted for the occasion with 
 three broomsticks, on which bellied nondescript 
 sails, served me as a galleon, and the pond became 
 the Mediterranean bearing the fleet of the Cru- 
 saders. Lost in thought and looking at the water- 
 lily islands and the grass peninsulas, I proclaimed: 
 *'Here are Corsica and Sardinia I . . . Italy is in 
 sight. . . . We are sailing round Malta. . . ." 
 At the end of a minute I cried "Land!" We 
 were landing in Palestine — "Montjoye and St. 
 Denis !" — I suffered on that boat sea-sickness and 
 home-sickness ; the Holy War intoxicated me ; — 
 I learnt in it two things — enthusiasm and 
 geography. . . . 
 
 But often the other characters were repre- 
 sented. That made it more real. I remembered 
 then — for every child has a Don Quixote in him 
 — I remembered a giant Briareus who was the 
 
NOCTURNE 31 
 
 summer-house, and especially a barrel which be- 
 came the dragon of Andromeda. Oh, that barrel I 
 I had made a head for it with the help of a squint- 
 ing pumpkin, and vampire wings with two um- 
 brellas. Having ambushed my contraption at the 
 bend of an alley, leaning it up against a terra- 
 cotta nymph, I set out in search of it more valiant 
 than the real Perseus, and, armed with a pole, I 
 went caracoling on an invisible hippogriff. But 
 when I discovered it, the pumpkin leered at me so 
 strangely that Perseus almost took flight, and the 
 umbrellas owed it to his emotion that they were 
 broken to pieces in the yellow blood of the face- 
 tious vegetable. 
 
 My puppets did indeed make an impression on 
 me by reason of the role I assigned them. As I 
 always reserved for myself that of protagonist, 
 hero, conqueror, I easily surmounted that terror 
 during the day, but at night, though the hero be- 
 came little Nicolas Vermont, an urchin, the barrel 
 remained a dragon. Cowering under the sheets, 
 my mind excited by the story which my aunt had 
 just finished, I knew the garden was peopled with 
 my terrifying fancies, and that Briareus was 
 mounting guard there all the time, and that the 
 dreadful barrel, resuscitated, hiding its claws with 
 its wings, watched my window from afar. 
 
 At that age I despaired of ever being, later on 
 in life, like other people, and able to face the dark. 
 
32 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 And yet my fears did vanish, leaving me impres- 
 sionable no doubt, but not a coward; and it was 
 indeed I who found myself without dismay lost in 
 the lonely wood — all too empty, alas, of fairies 
 and enchanters. 
 
 I had just reached this point in my reverie, 
 when a sort of vague noise arose in the Fonval di- 
 rection; an ox's lowing, and something like a dog's 
 long mournful howl. That was all — and then the 
 sleeping calm returned. 
 
 Some minutes elapsed, and next I heard an owl 
 hoot somewhere between myself and the chateau; 
 another raised its voice not so far away as the 
 first; and then others took flight from places 
 nearer and nearer me, as if the passage of some 
 creature were scaring them. 
 
 And indeed a light sound of steps like the trot 
 of some four-footed animal, made itself heard 
 and drew nearer on the roadway. I listened for 
 some time to the beast moving to and fro in the 
 labyrinth, losing itself like me perhaps, and then 
 suddenly it appeared before me. 
 
 One could not mistake its spreading antlers, 
 the height of its neck and the delicacy of its ears; 
 it was a stag of ten. But hardly had I perceived 
 it than it made off in a sudden volte-face. Then — 
 had it gathered itself in to spring? — its body 
 seemed to me strangely low and paltry, and was 
 it a mere reflection? — seemed to me to be of a 
 
NOCTURNE 33 
 
 white color. The animal disappeared in a twin- 
 kling, and its little galloping steps died quickly 
 away. 
 
 Had I at the first glance taken a goat for a stag? 
 Or had I at the second glance taken a stag for 
 a goat? To tell the truth, I was much interested 
 and puzzled; so much so that I asked myself 
 whether I were not going to resume the soul of 
 the child I had been at Fonval. 
 
 But a little reflection made me realize that 
 hunger, fatigue and sleepiness, helped out by 
 moonshine, may easily cause one's eyes to be 
 deceived, and that a ray falling on an object and 
 transforming it is no unwonted phenomenon. 
 
 I rather regretted it; for, having lost my terror 
 of the mysterious, I had still kept my love for it. 
 I am one of those who are sorry that "Philosophy 
 has clipped an angel's wings," and yet I cannot 
 let a mystery remain a mystery for me. 
 
 Now this beast was really a very extraordinary 
 beast. 
 
 Wandering as it was through the incomprehen- 
 sible labyrinth of the wood, it seemed to me an 
 elusive riddle in a problem, and my curiosity was 
 aroused. 
 
 But utterly wearied as I was, I soon fell asleep 
 pondering detective ruses and subtle logical 
 methods of investigation. 
 
34 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 I awoke at dawn, and immediately I had a 
 glimpse of a possible end to my imprisonment. 
 
 Not far from where I was, some men, hidden 
 by the underwood, were walking and talking. 
 Their steps came and went like those of the 
 stag(?) treading, doubtless the same winding 
 ways. At one moment they passed, still hidden, 
 a few paces away from my car, but I could not 
 understand their conversation — it seemed to be 
 in German. 
 
 At last they stood before me at the very place 
 where the animal had appeared. There were 
 three of them, and they were bending down as 
 if they were following a trail. At the spot where 
 the beast had turned, one of them uttered an 
 exclamation and made a gesture as if they should 
 go back. But they perceived me and I advanced 
 towards them. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said I smiling my best, "could 
 you kindly show me the way to Fonval? I have 
 lost myself." 
 
 The three men looked at me without replying, 
 in an inquisitive and shy way. 
 
 They were a very remarkable trio. 
 
 The first possessed on the top of a massive and 
 squat body a round and calamitously flat face, the 
 thin pointed nose on which, as if it had been 
 shoved into it, made the disc into a sundial. 
 
 The second had a military air and was twist- 
 
fJLrJ 
 
 NOCTURNE 3 5 
 
 ing his mustache, which was on the German im- 
 perial model, and his chin stuck out like the toe 
 of a boot. 
 
 A tall old man with gold spectacles, gray curly 
 hair and an unkempt beard, made up the trio. He 
 was eating cherries in a noisy way, as a bumpkin 
 eats tripe. 
 
 They were obvious Germans, doubtless the 
 assistants from the Anatomisches Institut. 
 
 The tall old man spat out in my direction a 
 salvo of cherry-stones, and in the direction of 
 his comrades, one of those Teuton phrases, in 
 which a hail of shrapnel-like words mingles with 
 other nameless noises. 
 
 They exchanged in their own way some re- 
 marks which resembled so many broadsides, with- 
 out paying the least attention to me, and then 
 after cleverly imitating with their mouths the 
 sound of a battle going on beside a waterfall — 
 having held a council, in fact — they turned on 
 their heels and left me astounded at their rude- 
 ness. 
 
 But I had to get out of that fix somehow or 
 other. My adventure became hourly more 
 ridiculous. What was the meaning of all this? 
 What comedy was I playing? Was I being made 
 a fool of? I was furious. The would-be secrets 
 I had fancied I scented now seemed to me mere 
 childishness caused by weariness and the dark. 
 
36 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 The thing was to get away — to get away at once. 
 
 Raging and without reflection I made the con- 
 tact which set the car going, and the 80 horse- 
 power engine started to work in the bonnet with 
 the humming of a hive of bees. I seized the 
 starting lever — and then a great guffaw of laugh- 
 ter made me turn round. 
 
 With his cap over his ears, in blouse of blue, 
 and with his letter-bag on his shoulder, hilarious 
 and triumphant, a postman came on the scene. 
 
 "Ha, ha ! I told you last night that you would 
 lose your way," said he in a drawling voice. 
 
 I recognized my villager of Grey-l'Abbaye, and 
 bad temper prevented me answering him. 
 
 "It's to Fonval you want to go, is it?" he went 
 on. 
 
 I cursed Fonval in some very profane language 
 in which I consigned it and its inhabitants to the 
 Devil. 
 
 "Because," went on the postman, "if you are 
 going there, I'll show you the way. I am taking 
 the letters there. But make haste, I have double 
 load to-day; for this is Monday and I don't come 
 on Sunday." 
 
 While saying this, he had drawn his letters 
 from his bag, and was arranging them in his 
 hand. 
 
 "Show me that," I cried sharply, "Yes, that 
 yellow envelope." 
 
NOCTURNE 37 
 
 He looked me up and down distrustfully and 
 then let me look at It from a distance. 
 
 It was my letter — the announcement of my 
 arrival, which followed it by a night, instead of 
 preceding it by a day! 
 
 This untoward circumstance absolved my uncle 
 and drove away my rancour. 
 
 "Get in," I said. "You shall show me the way 
 and then ... we shall have a talk!" 
 
 The car set off in the freshness of the morning. 
 
 A mist was just melting away, as if the sun 
 after whitening the dark had still to dissolve it, 
 and as if this faint fog, now almost nothing, were 
 a portion of the darkness remaining in the form 
 of vapor, an evanescent remainder of the night 
 within the day, the vanishing specter of a van- 
 ished phantom. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 AMONG THE SPHINXES 
 
 The car slowly wound its way among the twists 
 and turns of the labyrinth. Sometimes in pres- 
 ence of a cluster of roads the postman himself 
 hesitated for a moment. 
 
 "Since when have these zigzags taken the place 
 of the straight avenue?" I asked. 
 
 "Four years ago, Sir — about a year after the 
 settling in of Mr, Learne in the chateau." 
 
 "Do you know the meaning of them ? You may 
 speak freely. I am the professor's nephew." 
 
 "Oh, well, he's . . . he's, well an eccentric 
 man." 
 
 "What sort of unusual things does he do?" 
 
 "Oh, well, nothing. One hardly ever sees him. 
 That's just the funny part of it. Before he took 
 this higgledy-piggledy into his head, one met him 
 often. He used to walk about in the country, 
 but ever since then . . . well, he does take the 
 train to Grey once a month." 
 
 So all my uncle's eccentricities came to a head 
 at the same epoch ; the maze and the different style 
 
 38 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 39 
 
 of his letters coincided as to date. Something 
 at that time had profoundly influenced his mind. 
 
 "And what about his companions?" I went on, 
 "the Germans?" 
 
 "Oh, as for them, Sir, they are invisible. 
 Moreover, although I go to Fonval six times a 
 week I do not remember when I last clapped eyes 
 on the park. It's Mr. Lerne himself who comes 
 to the gate for his letters. Oh, what a change I 
 Did you know old John? Well, he's gone, and 
 his wife too. It's as true as I'm talking to you. 
 Sir. No more coachman, no more housekeeper 
 ... no more horses." 
 
 "That's been so for four years, you say?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir." 
 
 "Tell me, postman, there's game about here, 
 is there not?" 
 
 "Faith, no. A few rabbits, two or three hares 
 — but there are too many foxes." 
 
 "What, no roe-deer? no stags?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 And now I felt a strange thrill of joy. 
 
 "Here we are, Sir 1" 
 
 After a final bend, the road did open out on 
 the old avenue of which Lerne had kept this little 
 bit. It was fringed by two rows of limes, ^ and 
 from the end of the two rows they formed, the 
 door of Fonval seemed to be coming towards us. 
 
40 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 In front of it, a carriage-sweep in the shape of 
 a half moon widened the avenue, and beyond that 
 one saw the outhne of the blue roof of the 
 chateau against the green of the trees, and the 
 trees themselves standing out on the somber 
 flanks of the gully. 
 
 In the midst of the wall which joined the cliffs 
 on either hand stood the door with its tiled porch. 
 It had aged, and the stone of the lintel was worn 
 away; the wood of its panels was worm-eaten 
 and crumbling into powder here and there; but 
 the bell had not changed. It's sound came from 
 my distant boyhood, so bright and clear that I 
 could have wept at it. 
 
 We waited for a few moments. 
 
 At last some wooden shoes clattered. 
 
 "Is that you, Guilloteau?" said a voice with 
 a trans-Rhenish accent. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Lerne." 
 
 Mr. Lerne ! I looked at my guide with eyes 
 wide with wonder — What! Was that my uncle 
 speaking like that? 
 
 "You are early," went on the voice. There was 
 the metallic sound of moving bolts; then the door 
 was opened ajar, and a hand was passed through 
 it. 
 
 "Give me them." 
 
 "Here they are, Mr. Lerne. But there is 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 41 
 
 some one with me," said the postman in an In- 
 sinuating and timid way. 
 
 "Who Is it?" cried the other — and In the fis- 
 sure formed by the hardly opened door, he 
 appeared. 
 
 It was my uncle Lerne. But life had laid hand 
 on him, had made him much older, and turned 
 him into this wild unkempt individual whose 
 straggling gray hair covered his shabby clothes 
 with dirty grease. He seemed smitten with 
 premature old age, and there was an unfriendly 
 gleam in the evil eyes which he fixed on me, from 
 under their knitted eyebrows. 
 
 "What do you want?" he asked me rudely. 
 
 He pronounced the words like a German, 
 
 I had a moment of hesitation. The fact was 
 that his face could no longer be compared to that 
 of a kind old woman; It was a Sioux visage, hair- 
 less and cruel, and at the sight of It I experienced 
 the contradictory sensations of recognizing It and 
 not recognizing it. 
 
 "But, Uncle," I stuttered finally, "it's I . . . 
 I have come to see you — according to leave given 
 by you. I wrote to you; but my letter . . . here 
 it is ! my letter and I arrive together. Excuse my 
 carelessness." 
 
 "Ah, you should have told me. It Is I that ask 
 pardon of you, my dear nephew." 
 
 A sudden change this ! Lerne showed eager- 
 
42 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 ness to welcome me ! he blushed and seemed con- 
 fused and almost servile. This embarrassment, 
 misplaced with regard to me, shocked me. 
 
 "Ha ha ! youVe come with a mechanical car- 
 riage," he added. "Hum, there's a place to put 
 it in, isn't there?" 
 
 He opened both folding-doors. 
 
 "Here one has often to be one's own servant," 
 he said, while the old hinges creaked. 
 
 Thereupon he burst into an awkward sort of 
 laugh. I could have wagered, looking at his per- 
 plexed expression, that he had no desire to do so, 
 and that his thoughts were far away from joking. 
 
 The postman had taken his leave. 
 
 "Is the coach-house still there?" I said, point- 
 ing to the right at a brick building. 
 
 "Yes, yes. I did not recognize you because 
 of your mustache — hum! Yes, your mustache. 
 You hadn't one long ago . . . had you? Well, 
 and how old are you?" 
 
 "Thirty-one, uncle." 
 
 At the sight of the coach-house my heart 
 stopped. 
 
 The dog-cart was moldering there, half buried 
 under logs, and there, as in the neighboring stable 
 which was full of odds and ends, the spider webs 
 were hanging whole or in shreds. 
 
 "Thirty-one, already," went on Lerne in a 
 vague and obviously distracted manner. 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 43 
 
 "But, Uncle, say tu and tot to me, as long ago." 
 
 "Ah, yes, dear . . . Nicolas, eh?" 
 
 I was very ill at ease, but he did not seem more 
 at his ease than I was. My presence clearly 
 annoyed him. 
 
 It is always an interesting thing for an intruder 
 to learn why he is so, — I seized my valise. 
 Lerne observed my gesture and seemed to form 
 a sudden resolve. 
 
 "Let it be — let it be, Nicholas," he said in a 
 tone of command. "I'll send to fetch your lug- 
 gage shortly. But first we must have a talk. 
 Come for a walk." 
 
 He took my arm and drew me towards the 
 park. He was still reflecting, however. 
 
 We passed near the chateau. With few ex- 
 ceptions the shutters were closed. The roof in 
 many places was sinking in, sometimes even 
 broken, and the moldy walls from which the 
 whitewash had disappeared in large flakes here 
 and there showed their masonry. The plants in 
 boxes still surrounded the house, but, to tell the 
 truth, for several winters no one had thought of 
 putting the verbenas and orange-trees and laurels 
 under cover. Standing in their battered and 
 rotten tubs they were all dead. The sandy 
 carriage-drive, of yore so carefully raked, might 
 have imagined itself a second-rate meadow, there 
 was so much grass growing there mingled with 
 
44 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 nettles and hemlock. It was like the castle of 
 "Sleeping Beauty" on the Prince's arrival. Lerne, 
 clinging to my arm, walked without further talk. 
 
 We got to the other side of the dreary pile, 
 and the park lay before our eyes. A jumble. No 
 more baskets of flowers, no more wide, sandy 
 paths like winding ribbons. Except just in front 
 of the chateau, the lawn — which had been meta- 
 morphosed into a paddock fenced with wire and 
 given up to some cattle to feed in — had been en- 
 croached on by the valley which had relapsed into 
 its wild state. The garden was no more than a 
 great wood with open spaces and green paths in 
 it. The Ardennes had reassumed their usurped 
 domain. 
 
 Lerne thoughtfully filled an immense pipe with 
 feverish fingers, lit it, and then we went under 
 the trees into one of the alleys that were like long 
 caves. 
 
 Once more I saw the statues and with a dis- 
 illusioned eye, the statues which a former master 
 of Fonval had erected in profusion. Those mag- 
 nificent dumb personages of my dramas were as 
 a matter of fact wretched modern figures, sug- 
 gested to some commercially-minded magnate of 
 industry of the Second Empire by Rome or 
 Greece. The tunics of concrete swelled out Into 
 crinolines, the drapery of the cloaks was like that 
 of a shawl, and the divinities of the woods — 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 45 
 
 Echo, Syrinx, Arethusa — wore low chignons which 
 filled their bag-like nets — in the Benoiton man- 
 ner. Those hideous representations of exquisite 
 fantasies, of forest charms transmuted into 
 Dryads, were to-day more passable In their 
 mantles of virgin-vine and clematis, although 
 certain heroes were no more than ivy-clad figures 
 of fun, and although a mere moss-clad attitude 
 represented Diana. 
 
 After walking for some time, my uncle made 
 me sit down on a bench of stone covered with 
 a coat of lichen, under the shade of flourishing 
 hazels. 
 
 A little crackling sound made itself heard in 
 the bower right over our heads. 
 
 Lerne jumped convulsively and raised his head. 
 
 It was merely a squirrel watching us from the 
 top of a branch. 
 
 My uncle darted a ferocious glance at it, fix- 
 ing it as if he were taking aim at it; then he 
 began to laugh in a reassured sort of way. 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha ! it's only a little . . . thing," said 
 he, unable to find the word. 
 
 "Really," thought I within myself, "how queer 
 one may become as one gets old. Environment, 
 I know, is the cause of many evolutions; one 
 adopts the ways and manner of speech of one's 
 familiars in spite of oneself; the surroundings of 
 Lerne might suffice to explain why my uncle is 
 
46 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 dirty, expresses himself ill, speaks with a German 
 accent and sm^okes that huge pipe. . . . But he 
 has ceased caring for flowers, he no longer looks 
 after his property, and at this moment looks 
 extraordinarily nervous and preoccupied. If one 
 adds to that the happenings of last night, it all 
 seems something less than natural." 
 
 Meanwhile the Professor looked at me in a 
 disconcerting way, and eyed me up and down as 
 if here were sizing me up and had never seen 
 me before. I began to lose countenance. A fierce 
 debate was going on within him which was re- 
 flected on his face. Every moment our looks 
 crossed, but at last they met, and joined, and my 
 uncle, not being able to hold his peace any longer 
 appeared for the second time to make up his mind. 
 "Nicolas," he said, patting me on the thigh, 
 "I am a ruined man, you know." 
 
 I understood his plan, and was revolted. 
 
 "Uncle, be frank with me ; you want me to go !" 
 
 "I want you to go ! What an idea !" 
 
 "I am quite sure of it. Your invitation was 
 
 rather discouraging, and your welcome hardly 
 
 hospitable. But, uncle, you must have a very 
 
 short memory if you think me avaricious enough 
 
 to have come here merely for your money. I see 
 
 you are no longer the same — your letters indeed 
 
 made me fear that — and yet it utterly bewilders 
 
 me that you should have thought of this clumsy 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 47 
 
 subterfuge intended to drive me away. For dur- 
 ing these fifteen years / have not changed. I have 
 never ceased venerating you with my whole 
 heart, and have deserved better at your hands 
 than those icy epistles and, above all, better 
 than this insult." 
 
 "There, there! Gently!" said Lerne, much 
 annoyed. 
 
 "Moreover, if you want me to go, just say 
 the word and I'm off. You are no uncle of mine 
 now." 
 
 "Don't talk such blasphemous nonsense, 
 Nicolas." He said that in a tone of such alarm 
 that I tried intimidation. 
 
 "And I shall inform against you, uncle, you 
 and your acolytes and your mysteries." 
 
 "You are mad, you are mad. Hold your 
 tongue. There's an idea for you!" 
 
 Lerne began to laugh loudly, but I don't know 
 why, his eyes frightened me, and I regretted my 
 phrase. 
 
 He went on. 
 
 "Look here, Nicolas, don't get excited! You 
 are a good fellow. Give me your hand. You 
 shall always find in me your old uncle who loves 
 you. Listen, it's not true; no, I am not ruined, 
 and my heir will certainly get something; — if he 
 acts as I desire. But, as a matter of fact, I think 
 he would do better not to stay here. . . . There's 
 
48 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 nothing here to amuse a man of your age, Nico- 
 las; personally I am busy all day long." 
 
 The Professor might talk as he liked now. 
 Hypocrisy showed itself in every word; he was 
 nothing but a contemptible Tartuffe; he was fair 
 game. I determined not to leave till I had com- 
 pletely satisfied my curiosity. So, interrupting 
 him, I said in a tone of deep dejection: 
 
 "There you are making use of the inheritance 
 business again to make me decide to leave Fonval. 
 You have clearly no trust in me." 
 
 With a gesture he deprecated the idea. I went 
 on: 
 
 "No, allow me to remain in order that we may 
 renew our acquaintance. We both need to do 
 so." 
 
 Lerne knitted his eyebrows, then he said in a 
 mocking tone : 
 
 "You insist on renouncing me?" 
 
 "No; keep me beside you, otherwise you will 
 hurt my feelings deeply; frankly," this in a banter- 
 ing tone, "I should not know what to think." 
 
 "Stop," rejoined my uncle with energy, "there 
 is nothing wrong to suspect here — far from it." 
 
 "No doubt. All the same, you have secrets — 
 as you have every right to have. If I speak to 
 you of them, it is because I must resign myself 
 to assure you that I shall respect them." 
 
 "There is only one! A single secret. And its 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 49 
 
 aim is noble and salutary," said my uncle sen- 
 tentlously and with animation: "One only, I 
 tell you — that concerning our work; a blessing 
 to humanity — glory too and gold ! But we must 
 have silence assured us. Secrets ! Everybody 
 knows we are here, that we are working. The 
 newspapers have said so — there is no secret in 
 that." 
 
 "Keep calm, uncle, and tell me how I am to be- 
 have in your house. I am entirely at your dis- 
 posal." 
 
 Lerne resumed his inward debate: 
 
 "Well," said he, raising his brow, "it is agreed- 
 Such an uncle as I have always shown myself to- 
 wards you cannot possibly drive you away. That 
 would be belying all my past. Remain then, but 
 on the following conditions : 
 
 "We are pursuing researches here that are 
 about to come to their fulfillment. When our dis- 
 covery is a fait accompli the public will hear of 
 It In its entirety. Till then, I do not wish It to be 
 Informed of uncertain attempts whose revelation 
 might raise up rivals capable of anticipating us. 
 I do not doubt your discretion, but I prefer not 
 to put it to the test, and I entreat you In your 
 own interests not to try to surprise any secrets, 
 rather than to be obliged to hide them. I say, 
 'in your own interests' ; not merely because it Is 
 easier not to pry than to hold one's tongue, but 
 
so NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 also for the following reasons: Our business is 
 a commercial one at bottom. A man of business 
 like you will be very useful to me. We shall be- 
 come rich, nephew — millionaires! But you must 
 let me forget the instrument of your fortune in 
 peace, you must show yourself a man of tact and 
 respectful of my orders — in a word, the man I 
 want as an associate. You must know, I am not 
 alone in this enterprise. They might make you 
 repent of your acts, if you transgressed the rule 
 I am laying down for you — cruelly repent — more 
 cruelly than you imagine. So practice indiffer- 
 ence, my dear nephew. See nothing, hear noth- 
 ing, understand nothing, in order that you may 
 become very, very rich — and remain alive !" 
 
 "Oh, indifference is not so easy a virtue at 
 Fonval. There have been things going about 
 here since last night which should not be here and 
 only find themselves here through some bit of 
 carelessness." 
 
 At those words an unexpected rage seized 
 Lerne. He flung out his fists and growled: 
 "Wilhelm! Fool! Ass!" What I now felt sure 
 of was that the secrets were considerable and 
 would give me fine surprises were they discovered. 
 As for the doctor's promises, and his threats, I 
 did not beheve in either, and his speech had 
 neither aroused covetousness nor fear in me — ^the 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 51 
 
 two passions that my uncle wished to make my 
 counselors to obedience. I rejoined coldly: 
 
 "Is that all you ask of me?" 
 
 "No. But the next prohibition is of another 
 kind, Nicolas. You will be presented to some- 
 body in the chateau; it is a young girl I res- 
 cued ..." 
 
 I made a movement of surprise, and Lerne 
 guessed my Imputation. 
 
 "Oh!" he exclaimed, "she is like a daughter — 
 nothing more. But her friendship Is precious to 
 me, and it would b? painful to me to see it lessened 
 by a sentiment v'liich I can no longer inspire. In 
 short, Nicolas," he said quickly and with a cer- 
 tain shamefacedaess, "I ask you to swear not to 
 pay court to my protegee." 
 
 Astounded at such a degraded view, and still 
 more so at such a want of delicate feeling, I told 
 myself, however, that there is no jealousy with- 
 out love any more than there is smoke without fire. 
 
 "What do you take me for, uncle? It is suffi- 
 cient that I am your guest." 
 
 "All right — I know my physiology and how to 
 use It. May I trust you? You swear It? Very 
 well." 
 
 "As for her," he added with a crafty smile, 
 "I am easy for the time being. She has lately 
 seen my way of treating suitors. I advise you 
 not to make trial of It." 
 
52 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Having got up, with his hands in his pockets, 
 and his pipe between his teeth, Lerne looked me 
 up and down in a jocular and provocative manner. 
 This physiologist inspired me with an unconquer- 
 able aversion. 
 
 We continued our walk round the park. 
 
 "Ah, by the way, do you know German?" said 
 the Professor. 
 
 "No, uncle; I only understand French and 
 Spanish." 
 
 "No English either? That's not much for a 
 future merchant prince, ^ou have not been 
 taught much, I fear.'* 
 
 "Tell that to the Marines, uncle," said I to 
 myself. "I had begun to keep wide open those 
 eyes you commanded me to keep shut, and I saw 
 just then that your satisfied expression gave your 
 words the lie." 
 
 We reached the end of the park by way of 
 the foot of the cliffs and came in front of the 
 chateau which seemed stretching its two wings 
 towards us and dominating the underwood with 
 its ruinous facade. 
 
 And it was at this exact moment that my eye 
 was caught by an abnormal bird, a pigeon, which 
 was wheeling in the air, and flew upwards with 
 ever-narrowing and giddy circles. 
 
 "Just look at those roses on that long branch 
 of briar; they are pretty and interesting," said my 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 53 
 
 uncle, "Left to grow wild, they have become 
 dog-roses again." 
 
 "What a curious pigeon !" I said. 
 
 "Just look at those flowers," insisted Lcrne. 
 
 "One would think there was a drop of lead in 
 its head. That happens sometimes when one is 
 out shooting. It will tower and tower, and then 
 fall from as high as possible." 
 
 "If you don't watch your feet, you will fall 
 head over heels into the thorn-bushes. It's a 
 breakneck place, this, nephew." 
 
 This useful bit of counsel was growled out in 
 a menacing tone that sounded strangely out of 
 place. 
 
 Then the bird attained the center of its spiral 
 and began not to mount, but to come down with 
 wild tumblings, and whirling over and over. It hit 
 a rock not far from us and fell, an inert thing, 
 into the thick herbage. 
 
 Why did the Professor suddenly become more 
 restless? Why did he hasten his steps? That is 
 what I was asking myself, when the big pipe fell 
 from his mouth. Having dashed forward to pick 
 it up I could not restrain a look of stupefaction; 
 he had snapped it off sharp with a furious bite. 
 
 The scene ended with a German word— doubt- 
 less an oath. 
 
 As we returned in the direction of the chateau 
 
54 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 we saw running towards us a fat woman who 
 seemed bursting out of her blue apron. 
 
 She was evidently unused to such athletic 
 exercise and it went against the grain, for it shook 
 her dangerously, and as she trotted along, she 
 kept herself together by means of her arms and 
 hands as if she were pressing some precious, huge 
 and unwieldy burden against her person. At the 
 sight of us, she stopped all of a piece — a thing 
 that seemed almost an impossibility — then she 
 ssemed to want to retrace her steps. However, 
 she came on with a guilty look on her kindly face, 
 a look as of a school-girl caught in a fault. She 
 awaited her fate. 
 
 Lerne scolded her: 
 
 "Barbel What are you doing here? You 
 have forgotten. I forbade you to go beyond the 
 paddock. I'll end by sending you packing, Barbe, 
 after punishing you — you know." 
 
 The fat woman was very much afraid. She 
 tried to bridle, made a mouth as if she were going 
 to lay an egg with it and excused herself — she 
 had, from her kitchen, seen the pigeon fall and 
 thought she might brighten up the bill of fare with 
 it. "You always have the same dishes to eat." 
 
 "And then," she added stupidly, "I did not 
 think you were In the garden, I thought you were 
 in the lab . . ." 
 
 A brutal slap in the face interrupted her on 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 55 
 
 that syllable — the first syllable of "labyrinth," 
 as I imagined. 
 
 "Oh, uncle I" I cried Indignantly. 
 
 "Look here, you ! Hold your tongue, or off 
 with you I That's clear enough. Isn't it?" 
 
 Barbe was terrified and no longer wept. Her 
 suppressed sobs made her hiccup. She was 
 very pale, and on her cheek the bony hand of 
 Lerne remained printed In red. 
 
 "Go and take this gentleman's luggage from 
 the coach-house and put it In the lion-room." 
 
 (This room was on the first story of the 
 western wing.) 
 
 "Won't you give me my old room, uncle?" 
 
 "Which was that?" 
 
 "Which? Why, the one on the ground floor, 
 the yellow room, in the East wing, you know." 
 
 "No. I use that one," he said sharply. "Off 
 with you, Barbe." 
 
 The cook decamped as fast as she could. 
 
 On our right the pond was lying there stag- 
 nant. Our silent passage flung its shadow into 
 it, and it looked there like a dream In a lethargy. 
 
 My astonishment was growing every moment. 
 However, I kept myself from seeming too much 
 surprised at the sight of a new and spacious 
 building of gray stone built against the cliff. It 
 consisted of two blocks separated by a courtyard. 
 A high wall pierced with a carriage-gate, at the 
 
56 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 moment shut, hid It from one's eyes, but the 
 clucking of fowls escaped from it, and a dog, 
 having scented us, raised his voice. 
 
 I flung out a plummet at a venture : 
 
 "You'll take me over your farm, won't you?" 
 
 Lerne shrugged his shoulders : 
 
 "Perhaps," he said. Then turning towards the 
 house, he shouted: 
 
 "Wilhelm, Wilhelm!" 
 
 The German with the face like a sun-dial 
 opened a little window and the Professor 
 apostrophized him in his mother-tongue, so 
 violently that the poor fellow trembled all over. 
 
 "By Jove!" I said to myself. "It's owing to 
 him and his inadvertence that there are going 
 about outside since last night, things that should 
 not be there — that's certain." 
 
 When the execution was over, we went round 
 the paddock. It contained a black bull and four 
 cows of various kinds, the whole lot of whom, for 
 no particular reason, followed after us. My 
 dreadful relative began to joke : 
 
 "Nicolas, let me introduce you to Jupiter; and 
 here is the white Europa, the dun-colored lo, the 
 fair-skinned Athor, and Pasiphae clad in her robe 
 of milk stained with ink, or ink stained with milk 
 — whichever way you prefer." 
 
 This reference to libertine mythology made me 
 smile. To tell the truth, I should have seized the 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 57 
 
 first pretext to have a laugh; I had physical need 
 of it. I also felt a hunger so intense that to 
 satisfy it seemed the only question of any interest. 
 The chateau was the one and only attraction. It 
 was there I should eat! And the attraction it 
 exercised on me almost made me fail to examine 
 the hot-house, its neighbor. 
 
 That would have been a pity. They had added 
 two halls of glass to it which flanked the original 
 rotunda with their domed naves. Under its 
 lowered outer blinds the building seemed to me 
 to form a whole that was "perfect of its kind." 
 It suggested something between a Crystal Palace 
 and a glass melon-bell; it had quite a grand and 
 out-of-the-way appearance, if I may so say. 
 
 A hot-house of this kind in this thicket! I 
 should have been less astonished to find a love- 
 philter in a monastery! 
 
 In the days of my late lamented aunt, the lion- 
 room was reserved for guests. It had — it still 
 has — three windows, with deep recesses as deep 
 as alcoves. One of them looks out in the direction 
 of the conservatory and has a balcony attached; 
 the second opens on the park; I saw the paddock 
 from it and further away the pond, and between 
 the two that summer-house which once was 
 Briareus. The third window faces the eastern 
 wing; from there I saw the window of my old 
 
58 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 room — shut — and the whole faqade of the 
 chateau blocking the view on the left. 
 
 I felt as if I were in an hotel. Nothing there 
 recalled anything to me. A Jouy wall-paper 
 stained with damp from the wall and hanging 
 loose in one corner, covered the walls with a host 
 of red lions each with a cannon ball fixed under 
 its paw. The bed curtains and window curtains 
 showed, in distortion, the same subject. Two pic- 
 tures balanced one another: The Education of 
 Achilles and The Rape of Deianeira, in which the 
 damp spotted the faces of the four subjects with 
 red and dappled the cruppers of the Centaurs, 
 Chiron and Nessus; there was also rather a fine 
 Norman clock which looked like a coffin set on 
 end, the emblem and at the same time the meas- 
 ures of Time — and the whole furnishing of the 
 room was commonplace and out-of-date. 
 
 I splashed my face with cold water and put 
 on clean linen with pleasure. Barbe brought me, 
 without knocking at the door, a plate of coarse 
 broth, and made no reply to my condolences on 
 her inflamed cheek; then she waddled out of the 
 room like a gigantic sylph. 
 
 There was no one in the drawing-room — unless 
 shades are people. O little black velvet arm- 
 chair with your two yellow tassels, hideous piece 
 of squat pufliness, so well termed a crapaud, could 
 I behold you again as of yore without imagining 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 59 
 
 seated on your toad-like form the shade of my 
 anecdotal aunt? And you, my mother's chair — 
 an austerer one, and one I cannot jest about — will 
 she not always be in my memory leaning over 
 your back as long as you shall be an armchair, 
 if indeed you ever really were one? 
 
 Not a detail was altered. From the unspeak- 
 able white paper on the walls down which hung 
 garlands of flowers trussed like sausages, to the 
 hangings of sulphur-colored damask draping their 
 fringed basques in a row, the work of the former 
 owner — a contemporary of the crinoline — had 
 admirably stood the effect of time. A swollen 
 stuffing puffed out the sofas single and double, 
 and nothing had succeeded in deflating the in- 
 flamed chairs or the blistered settees. 
 
 From the wainscot smiled down on one all 
 my dead and gone ancestors : my great-great- 
 grandfathers in chalk, my grandfathers in minia- 
 tures, my father a schoolboy in daguerrotype ; 
 and on the mantelpiece (duly petticoated with 
 puffed-out fringed flounces) a few photographs 
 were sticking to the mirror. A large-sized group 
 claimed my attention. I took it up to look at it 
 more carefully. It represented my uncle sur- 
 rounded by five gentlemen and a big St. Bernard 
 dog. The group had been taken at Fonval; the 
 wall of the chateau made the background, and a 
 rose-laurel in a tub figured in the picture. An 
 
6o NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 amateur's work and unsigned. Lerne beamed 
 with kindness and mental energy, resembling, in 
 a word, the savant I had expected to find. Of 
 the five men, three were known to me, the Ger- 
 mans; I had never seen the two others. 
 
 Then suddenly the door opened without my 
 having the time to replace the photograph. 
 Lerne was ushering in a young woman. 
 
 "My nephew, Nicolas Vermont — Mademoi- 
 selle Emma Bourdichet." 
 
 Mile. Emma had apparently been undergoing 
 one of those sharp lectures that Lerne distributed 
 so prodigally. Her frightened expression showed 
 that. She had not even the courage to make the 
 conventional grimace usual in cases of constrained 
 amiability, and merely made an awkward sort of 
 bow. 
 
 As for me, after bowing, I dared not raise my 
 eyes for fear my uncle should read my soul in 
 them. 
 
 My soul? If by soul one means (as is 
 generally meant) that ensemble of faculties which 
 result in man's being a little above the other ani- 
 mals, I think I had better not compromise my 
 soul in this matter. 
 
 Oh, I'm not unaware that, if all loves, even 
 the purest, are originally animal desires, esteem 
 and friendship sometimes add themselves thereto 
 to ennoble the relations of man and woman. 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 6i 
 
 Alas! If some Fragonard wished to com- 
 memorate our first interview and, in the i8th 
 century manner, depict Love as presiding over 
 it, I should advise him to study a certain little 
 Eros with goat's feet and thighs, a faun-like 
 Cupid unsmiling and wingless; his arrows should 
 be wooden and in a quiver made of bark, and 
 should be dripping with blood; he might indeed 
 pass under the name of Pan. He is Love uni- 
 versal. Pleasure that is unintentionally fecund, 
 the Master of Life who takes equal heed of lairs 
 and eyries, beasts' dens and bridal beds. 
 
 Are there degrees of femininity? In that case, 
 I never saw a woman who was more a woman 
 than Emma. I shall not describe her, having 
 scarcely noted more in her than an abstraction 
 and not an object. Was she beautiful? No 
 doubt; most assuredly desirable. 
 
 Yet, I do remember her hair. It had the color 
 of fire, a dull red — possibly dyed — and the image 
 of her body passes even now through my dead 
 passion. It would have put all flat-figured ladies 
 to shame. 
 
 Well, this adorable creature was at the height 
 of her charm. 
 
 The blood beat against my brain pan, and sud- 
 denly a fierce jealousy possessed me. In truth 
 I should willingly have given up this girl, pro- 
 vided no one else should touch her ever. From 
 
62 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 unpleasing, Lerne now became odious to me. I 
 should remain now — at any price. 
 
 Meanwhile we did not know what to say. 
 Thrown off my balance by the suddenness of the 
 incident, and wishing to hide my confusion, I 
 stuttered out anyhow: 
 
 "You see, uncle, I was just looking at that 
 photograph." 
 
 "Ah, yes! Me and my assistants, Wilhelm, 
 Karl, and Johann. And this is Macbeth, my 
 pupil. It's very like him. What do you think 
 of it, Emma?" 
 
 He had put the photograph under his ward's 
 eyes and pointed out to her a man close-shavfn 
 in the American way, slim, short and young, with 
 a distinguished bearing, who had his hand on the 
 back of the St. Bernard dog. 
 
 "A handsome, intelligent fellow, eh?" said the 
 Professor in a mocking voice. "The ace of 
 Scots!" 
 
 Emma never changed her look of terror. She 
 articulated with difficulty: 
 
 "His Nelly was very amusing with her per- 
 forming-dog tricks." 
 
 "And Macbeth," said my uncle in a jesting 
 voice. "Was he amusing?" 
 
 There were symptoms of tears coming, and I 
 saw Emma's chin quiver. She murmured: 
 
 "Poor Macbeth!" 
 
AMONG THE SPHINXES 63 
 
 "Yes," said Lerne to me by way of answer to 
 my puzzled looks, "Mr, Donovan Macbeth had 
 to give up his duties as a result of some unfortu- 
 nate occurrences. May Fate spare you such 
 unhappiness, Nicolas!" 
 
 "And the other?" I asked, in order to turn the 
 conversation. "The other one, he with the brown 
 mustache and whiskers, who is he?" 
 
 "He's gone, too." 
 
 "Dr. Klotz," said Emma, who had drawn near 
 us and was regaining her calm. "Otto Klotz; 
 oh, as for him . . ." 
 
 Lerne silenced her with a terrible look. I do 
 not know what punishment she foresaw, but a 
 spasm rendered the poor girl rigid. 
 
 Hereupon Barbe introduced slantwise half of 
 her opulent form and murmured that lunch was 
 on the table. 
 
 She had only set three places in the dining 
 room; the Germans, I fancied, must live in the 
 gray buildings. 
 
 The lunch was gloomy. Mile. Bourdichet 
 never ventured a word, ate nothing, and so I 
 could not make out what was the matter, terror 
 making all creatures alike. 
 
 Besides, sleepiness was overwhelming me. 
 Immediately after dessert I asked leave to go 
 to bed, begging to be allowed to sleep till the next 
 morning. 
 
64 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Once In my room, I Immediately began to un- 
 dress. To tell the truth my journey, the night 
 and the morning had worn me out. All those 
 riddles, too, worried me, first because they were 
 riddles and then because they presented themselves 
 so confusedly. I felt as if I were enveloped in 
 smoke wherein riddling sphinxes kept turning 
 their vague faces towards me. 
 
 My braces were just going to be flung off — and 
 were not flung off. 
 
 In the garden Lerne was making his way to- 
 wards the gray buildings accompanied by his three 
 assistants. 
 
 "They are going to work In there," said I to 
 myself. "That's clear. I am not being watched; 
 they have not had time to take many precautions; 
 uncle is persuaded I am asleep. Nicolas, this is 
 the time for action, now or never. But what to 
 start with? Emma, or the secret? Hum . . . 
 the little girl Is utterly gorgonized to-day. . . . 
 As for the secret . . ." 
 
 Having put on my coat again, I went mechanic- 
 ally from Mandow to window. 
 
 There between the wrought-iron stanchions of 
 the balcony the Conservatory showed its mysteri- 
 ous additions. It was shut, forbidden, attractive. 
 
 I went out stealthily and noiselessly, like a wolf. 
 
¥' 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE CONSERVATORY 
 
 Once outside, and without cover, it seemed to 
 me that everything was spying on me; so I flung 
 myself headlong into a little wood near the con- 
 servatory; then through the thorn and creepers I 
 made my way towards my objective. 
 
 It was very warm. I advanced with great diflfi- 
 culty and taking thousands of precautions to avoid 
 scratches and tell-tale rents. 
 
 At last the conservatory with its central dome 
 and one of its bulging flanks loomed large before 
 me. It was a side view that first presented itself. 
 I thought it would be wise to reconnoiter it before 
 leaving the shelter of the wood. 
 
 What struck me immediately was its appear- 
 ance of cleanliness, its perfect upkeep; not a 
 paving-stone of the encircling footway displaced, 
 not a brick of the foundation broken ; the blinds 
 which were well fastened had all their laths, and 
 in the narrow open spaces of their shutters the 
 window-panes flashed in the sun. 
 
 I listened. No sound came to me from the 
 castle or from the gray buildings. In the con- 
 
 65 
 
66 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 servatory there was complete silence. One heard 
 nothing but the vast hum of a burning afternoon. 
 
 Then I summoned up my courage, and ap- 
 proaching stealthily, I raised one of the wooden 
 sun-blinds and tried to look through the panes; 
 but I could see nothing; they had been smeared 
 on the inside with a whitish substance. It seemed 
 more and more probable that Lcrne had diverted 
 the conservatory from its original use, and now 
 abandoned himself there to any other culture than 
 that of flowers. The idea of microbe broths sim- 
 mering under the warm light seemed to me quite 
 a happy inspiration. 
 
 I moved round the glass house. Everywhere 
 the same stuff smeared on the window-panes inter- 
 cepted the view — rather thick stuff it appeared. 
 
 The ventilation windows stood open but be- 
 yond my reach. The wings had no doors, and one 
 could not get into the central part from the back. 
 
 As I kept moving round scrutinizing the brick 
 and the no less thick glass, I soon found myself 
 on the chateau side opposite my balcony. This 
 position being unsheltered was dangerous. I 
 thought I should have to return to my bedroom, 
 and give up the supposed palace of microbes with- 
 out examining the front. I limited my investiga- 
 tion therefore to a most disappointed glance — a 
 glance, however, which suddenly let me know that 
 the mystery lay open to me. 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 67 
 
 The door was only pressed against the door- 
 post, and the bolt which was quite free showed 
 that some careless person had thought he had 
 barred the door securely. Oh, Wilhelm, you 
 priceless donkey! 
 
 The moment I entered, my bacteriological 
 hypothesis was at once destroyed. A whiff of 
 floral perfumes welcomed me — a moist and warm 
 whiff with a touch of nicotine in it. 
 
 I paused in wonderment on the threshold. 
 
 No hot-house — not even a royal one — has ever 
 given me that impression of riotous luxury which 
 I at first experienced. In that rotunda in the 
 midst of all those sumptuous plants, the first sen- 
 sation was that of bedazzlement. The whole 
 gamut of greens was played in a chromatic scale 
 on the keyboard of leaves, amid the multi-colored 
 tones of flowers and fruit, and on tiers which 
 climbed up to the cupola those splendors surged 
 magnificently upward. 
 
 But one's eyes became accustomed to the sight, 
 and my admiration grew somewhat less. As- 
 suredly, however, for this Winter-Garden to 
 arouse my admiration so immediately, it must 
 have been composed of plants very remarkable 
 in themselves, for in reality no attempt at har- 
 mony had brought about their arrangement. 
 
 They were grouped in disciplinary order and 
 not in accordance with a spirit of elegance — like 
 
68 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 some Eldorado confided to the care of a 
 gendarme. Their ranks separated themselves 
 brutally from one another, like so many cate- 
 gories; the pots stood in military array, and each 
 of them bore a label, which had to do with botany 
 rather than with gardening, and gave evidence 
 rather of science than of art. This circumstance 
 gave one food for meditation. After all, could 
 I admit for a moment that Lerne could possibly 
 do gardening for pleasure? 
 
 Prosecuting my researches, I let my charmed 
 eyes wander over all those marvels, incapable in 
 my ignorance of naming any of them. I tried to 
 do so, however, mechanically, and then that 
 luxuriance, which on a cursory general look had 
 shown a sort of exotic character, began to appear 
 to me as it really was . . . 
 
 Incredulous, and a prey to a fever of curiosity, 
 I looked at a cactus. 
 
 In spite of my want of expert knowledge, I 
 could not be mistaken, but its red flower utterly 
 puzzled me. ... I looked at it minutely, and my 
 perplexity only grew. 
 
 There was no possible doubt: this demoniac 
 flower with its insolent look, this rocket which 
 soared up green to break in fiery stars, was a 
 geranium! 
 
 I went on to the next flower: three bamboo 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 69 
 
 stalks rose out of the soil, and capitals which 
 crowned their slim columns were — dahlias. 
 
 Almost afraid, breathing in the unnatural per- 
 fumes in short breaths, I looked questioningly at 
 the place around me, and its miracle-like incoher- 
 ence clearly showed itself. 
 
 Spring, Summer, and Autumn reigned there in 
 company, and Lerne had doubtless suppressed 
 Winter, which extinguishes flowers like flames. 
 They were all there, and all fruits too, but neither 
 flower nor fruit had grown on its own tree! 
 
 A colony of cornflowers garnished a stalk 
 ceded by moss-roses, and which now waved about, 
 a thyrsus thenceforward blue. An araucaria un- 
 folded at the tip of its bristling branches the 
 indigo-colored bells of the gentian, and along an 
 espalier among nasturtium leaves and on the loops 
 of its serpentine stalk, camelias and parti-colored 
 tulips blossomed fraternally together. 
 
 Opposite the entrance-door, a clump of bushes 
 rose up against the glass wall. The shrub which 
 stood highest drew my attention. Pears were 
 hanging from it, and It was an orange tree 1 Be- 
 hind It two vine-stocks with branches worthy of 
 the land of Canaan flung their garlands round a 
 trellis; their gigantic clusters differed as their 
 stocks ; the one bore yellow fruit, the other purple 
 — hut each grape was a Mirahelle plum or a 
 damson! 
 
70 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 On the twigs of a miniature oak, on which 
 several rebellious acorns were obstinately form- 
 ing, one beheld walnuts and cherries rubbing 
 shoulders. One of these fruits was an abortion : 
 neither "chalk nor cheese" it was forming into 
 a glaucous tumor streaked with pink — a thing 
 monstrous and repellant. 
 
 Instead of cones, a fir tree was dotted with 
 chestnuts like shining stars, and, moreover, it 
 flaunted this strange contrast: the orange — that 
 golden sun of Eastern orchards — and the medlar, 
 which looks like a posthumous fruit of a tree that 
 has died of cold! 
 
 Not far away there was a throng of still more 
 fully developed miracles. Flora was elbowing 
 Pomona, as the good Demoustier would have 
 phrased it. Most of the plants that formed this 
 crowd were strange to me, and I only remember 
 the commoner ones, those that anybody knows the 
 list of, I can still see an astounding willow which 
 bore hortensias and peonies, peaches and straw- 
 berries. But the prettiest of all those hybrids was 
 perhaps a rose tree with ox-eyes for flowers and 
 crab-apples for fruit. 
 
 In the center of the rotunda a bush showed a 
 mingling of leaves so dissimilar as those of the 
 holly, the lime and the poplar. Having pressed 
 them apart I satisfied myself that they issued all 
 three from a single stem. 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 71 
 
 It was the triumph of grafting — a science that 
 Lerne had for fifteen years been pushing to the 
 verge of the miraculous, so far indeed that the 
 results presented a somewhat disquieting spec- 
 tacle. "When man sets his hand to Life, he 
 makes monsters." A kind of uneasiness troubled 
 me. 
 
 "What right has one to upset Creation?" I said 
 to myself. "Should one turn the ancient laws 
 topsy-turvy? Can one play this sacrilegious game 
 without high treason against Nature? If only 
 those artificial things had been in good taste! 
 But, devoid of real novelty, they were merely 
 curious mixtures, a sort of vegetable chimeras, 
 floral Fauns, half this and half that. On my 
 honor, graceful or not, this kind of work is im- 
 pious, and that's the long and the short of it." 
 
 Be that as it may, the Professor had toiled most 
 laboriously to bring his work to so successful an 
 Issue. The collection vouched for that, and there 
 were other signs that recalled the savant's in- 
 dustry: on a table I perceived rows of bottles and 
 an array of grafting-tools and gardening imple- 
 ments which glittered like surgical instruments. 
 This discovery sent me back to the flowers, and 
 looking into the matter I becam.e aware of all 
 their wretchedness. 
 
 They were plastered with various sorts of gum. 
 
72 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 bandaged and full of gashes which were like 
 wounds, out of which oozed a suspicious juice. 
 
 There was a wound in the bark of the pear- 
 bearing orange tree that formed an eye which was 
 slowly shedding tears. 
 
 I was becoming quite nervous. Would one 
 have believed it? I was assailed by a ridiculous 
 anguish as I looked at the oak-tree (which had 
 had an operation) because I fancied the cherries 
 looked like drops of blood ... I Flop ! flop ! 
 Two ripe ones fell at my feet like the first drops 
 of a thunder-storm. 
 
 I was no longer possessed of the calm neces- 
 sary for reading the labels. They merely told 
 me a few dates — and the fact that Lerne had 
 covered them with Franco-German terms which 
 had originally been illegible, and were rendered 
 more so by erasures. 
 
 With my ears on the alert, and with my brow 
 in my hands, I had to take a moment's respite 
 in order to gather my wits together, and then I 
 opened the door of the right wing. 
 
 A little nave, as it were, stretched out before 
 me. Its glass vault filtered the daylight and 
 attenuated it to a bluish and refreshingly cool half- 
 light. My steps rang out on the flagstones. 
 
 In this chamber there gleamed three aquariums, 
 three tanks of glass, so pure that the water seemed 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 73 
 
 to be standing of Itself In three geometrical 
 blocks. 
 
 The aquariums on the two sides of the hall 
 held marine plants which did not seem to differ 
 much one from the other. However, the rotunda 
 had taught me with what method Lerne classified 
 everything, and I could not believe that he had 
 separated into two tanks things absolutely identi- 
 cal. So I watched the sea-weeds attentively. 
 
 Their tufts, on both sides of the place, formed 
 the same submarine landscape. On the right, as 
 on the left, arborescences of every color had fixed 
 their rigid and bifurcated stems on the rocks; the 
 sandy bottom was sprinkled with stars like edel- 
 weiss, and here and there sprung up sheaves of 
 chalky rods, at the end of each of which a sort 
 of fleshy chrysanthemum unfolded itself like a 
 yellow or a violet flower. I cannot describe the 
 host of other corolla; they often resembled oily 
 calices of wax or of gelatine ; most of them showed 
 an indefinable color in a vague outline, and some- 
 times they had no edges and were mere nuances 
 In the midst of the water. 
 
 Bubbles escaped in thousands from an Inside 
 tap, and their tumultuous pearls raced madly along 
 the foliage before they rose to burst on the sur- 
 face. One would have thought, seeing them, that 
 that aquatic garden had always to be drenched 
 with air. 
 
74 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 Recalling my schoolboy memories I grasped 
 that the two sets of flowering things — differing 
 merely in detail — were exclusively composed of 
 polypi, those ambiguous creatures, such as coral 
 or sponge, which the naturalist interpolates be- 
 tween vegetables and animals. 
 
 Their peculiar ambiguity is never devoid of 
 interest. I tapped the left-hand trough. 
 
 Immediately an unexpected thing moved before 
 me swimming by means of contraction; it was 
 like an opaline Venetian goblet which had re- 
 mained malleable; a second crossed over the first; 
 they were two jelly-fish. Meanwhile the tapping 
 of my fingers had set other things moving. The 
 yellow and purple tufts of the anemones went 
 back into their calcareous sheaths, then rhythmic- 
 ally unfolding, emerged again; the rays of the 
 star-fish and sea-urchins stirred lazily; grays and 
 reds and saffrons swayed about, and, as if under 
 the influence of an eddy the whole aquarium 
 became alive. 
 
 I tapped on the right-hand trough. Nothing 
 budged. 
 
 This was proof positive; this separation of the 
 polypi into two receptacles gave me a clearer 
 understanding of the connection which, joining 
 the animal and the vegetable, makes man akin to 
 the blade of grass. At this meeting-place of the 
 two organized kingdoms, the creatures on the 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 75 
 
 left — active — were at the foot of their scale, and 
 those on the right — inactive — at the top of theirs; 
 the former were on the way to becoming beasts, 
 the latter had finished being plants. 
 
 Thus, the gulf which seems to separate those 
 two extreme poles in the world is reduced, as far 
 as structure goes, to slight divergences, almost 
 invisible — a less striking difference than that be- 
 tween the wolf and the fox which are, however, 
 brothers. 
 
 Now, this infinitesimal difference in organiza- 
 tion whirh Science, however, regards as unsur- 
 mountable, since it separates inertia from spon- 
 taneous movement — this difference Lerne had 
 bridged! In the basin at the end of the room, 
 the two species were grafted on to one another. 
 I noted there a gelatinous sort of leaf of the 
 immobile order, grafted on to a mobile stem, and 
 now moving about too. The grafts adopted the 
 condition of the plant into which they were in- 
 serted; penetrated with a life-giving juice, their 
 indifference changed to animation, and the 
 activity of the other was paralyzed through suck- 
 ing in the ankylosis. 
 
 I would willingly have passed in review the 
 various applications of this principle; but a 
 medusa tied with a hundred knots to sonie sea- 
 weed or other struggled violently in its mossy net, 
 and I turned away in disgust. 
 
76 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 This last stage in grafting in spite of diiSculties 
 completed the profanation in my eyes, and I looked 
 away into the blue shadow for less disagreeable 
 sights. 
 
 The Professor's apparatus stood ready for him. 
 There was a whole chemist's shop on a dresser. 
 Four tables with clear glass tops alternated with 
 the aquariums, and bore on them an arsenal of 
 knives, pincers and tweezers. 
 
 No ! Lerne had no right to do this ! It was 
 as infamous as a butchery! More so indeed! 
 And his odious performances on virgin Nature of- 
 fered at one and the same time the horror of a 
 murder and the ignominy of a violation ! 
 
 As I was yielding to this righteous indignation, 
 a noise arose. Some one was knocking. 
 
 Ah! my hell beyond the grave will be to hear 
 that little insignificant tapping. In a flash I felt 
 every nerve in my body. Some one was knocking ! 
 
 In a bound I was in the rotunda, and my face 
 must have been terrible to see, for instinctively 
 the dread of an adversary made me assume a look 
 of ferocity. 
 
 Nobody on the doorstep — nobody in the park 
 — I went in again. 
 
 The noise began once more. It was coming 
 from the yet unexplored wing. Losing my head, 
 I dashed towards it without realizing my rashness, 
 or the risk of finding myself face to face with the 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 77 
 
 danger, and so excited, that I banged my head 
 against the door, as I opened it with a violent 
 pull. 
 
 Nervous exhaustion had brought me down to 
 this condition of weakness. And I ask myself to- 
 day whether it had not to some extent given me 
 hallucinations and made me fancy things to be 
 more bizarre than they really were. 
 
 An intense light flooded the third hall and 
 helped me at once to recover my assurance. On 
 a dresser there was a cage upside down which was 
 knocking about with a rat inside it, as in a prison. 
 When the rat jumped, the cage jumped; hence the 
 noise. At the sight of me, the rodent became 
 quiet. I attached no importance to this little 
 episode. 
 
 This place, which was less orderly than the 
 others, looked like an ill-kept hot-house. But 
 towels stained with blood and thrown on the 
 ground, lancets lying anyhow among half empty 
 test-tubes, all this told of recent work and might 
 serve as an excuse for the confusion. 
 
 I began my investigation. 
 
 The first two witnesses to appear did not give 
 me much information. These were some very 
 humble plants in their china pots. Their names 
 in 1(771 or lis have gone from my memory, a thing I 
 deplore, for they would give my tale more authori- 
 tativeness, and more resonance. But who, at the 
 
78 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 mention of their ordinary names, could fall to 
 represent to himself a tuft of plantain and a tuft 
 of hare's-ear? 
 
 The former was, It Is true, of an exceptionally 
 long and supple sort. As for the latter, It had 
 nothing distinctive about It, and, like Its fellows, it 
 conscientiously counterfeited a dozen great ear- 
 lobes. On two of Its hairy, silvery leaves and on 
 one of the twigs of the plantain below It, a 
 bandage showed like a bracelet of white cloth 
 which tar (apparently) stained brown. 
 
 I sighed a sigh of relief. "Good," said I to 
 myself, "Lerne has inoculated them. This is only 
 a repetition of what I have already seen, or rather 
 an early, timid and simple essay, a stage on the 
 road to the rotunda, as it Is a stage on the way to 
 the atrocities of the aquarium. I might have be- 
 gun here, gone on to the central garden of Eden, 
 and finished off by the polypi. Thank God, I 
 have seen the worst." 
 
 So ran my thoughts, when the twig of the plan' 
 tain twisted about like a worm! 
 
 At the same time a mass of shining gray gave 
 a jump which betrayed its presence behind the 
 dresser. There lay in the midst of a pool of 
 blood a rabbit with silvery fur. It had just ex- 
 pired, and had nothing in the way of ears hut two 
 bleeding holes. 
 
 The presentiment of the reality made me break 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 79 
 
 out into a sweat. It was then I touched the hairy 
 plant. Having felt the two grafted leaves like 
 ears, I perceived they were hot and quivering. 
 
 A recoil sent me up against the dresser. My 
 hand stiff with disgust tried to shake off the feel- 
 ing of that contact as it would that of a hideous 
 spider; it knocked violently against the rat's cage, 
 which fell. 
 
 At once the rat bounded towards the middle of 
 its cage, biting and rolling about with mad fury 
 . . , and my staring eyes went continually from 
 the plantain to the animal, from the twig quiver- 
 ing like a thin black snake to the rat which had no 
 tail. 
 
 Its wound had healed, but the poor beast bore 
 traces of another experiment which it dragged 
 about in its somersaults — a sort of loosened 
 girdle, which still, however, kept fixed in its place 
 a piece of greenery that had been inserted into its 
 slashed flank! 
 
 This growth seemed to me to have withered. 
 So Lerne was mounting the scale of Being. He 
 was now grafting together the higher animals and 
 all kinds of plants! Infamous and great, my 
 uncle inspired me with disgust and admiration, 
 such as one might feel for a maleficient deity. 
 
 His works, however, seemed to me less esti- 
 mable than repulsive, and I had to do violence to 
 myself to force myself to prolong my visit. 
 
So NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 It was worth it, even if it was merely a figment 
 of the brain. What remained for me to learn 
 surpasses the nightmare of a madman. Fright- 
 ful, assuredly, but comic too in a way — grotesque, 
 sinister. 
 
 Which of the sufferers inspired most horror? 
 The guinea-pig, the frog or the trees? 
 
 The guinea-pig, perhaps was the least extraor- 
 dinary. Its pelt may have been green only as the 
 result of the green reflection from all those 
 plants. That may be so. 
 
 But the frog! But the trees! What was one 
 to think of themf 
 
 The frog was green as grass and had all its 
 four legs forced into the soil, planted in the middle 
 of a pot like a vegetable with four roots, its eye- 
 lids closed, its aspect dull and mournful. 
 
 As for the date trees — at first they had given no 
 sign of motion, and I am certain there was no 
 wind blowing — then, when they did move, it was 
 in all directions. Their leaves swayed very gently 
 — I thought I heard something, but I could not 
 swear to it — yes, the trees swayed and came closer 
 at every moment; suddenly they gripped one an- 
 other with all their green fingers and embraced 
 convulsively. Was it in wrath or in lust? For 
 battle or for love? I know not. The gestures 
 are much alike. 
 
 Beside the frog a vase of white porcelain was 
 
THE CONSERVATORY 8i 
 
 full of a colorless liquid in which was steeped a 
 Pravoz syringe. A similar vase and syringe had 
 been placed near the trees, but here the liquid was 
 brown and curdling. I concluded that they were 
 sap and blood. 
 
 The date trees had let go of each other, and 
 my trembling hand advanced towards them. I 
 could feel, under the soft warm bark pulse-beats 
 that made it rise and fall with rhythmical cadence. 
 
 Since then I have said to myself that one may 
 feel ones own pulse when feeling that of others, 
 and I was doubtless feverish; but at the moment 
 could I doubt my senses? . . . Besides, what fol- 
 lows in no wise impeaches my lucidity then; it 
 would on the contrary plead in its favor. I do 
 not know whether intensity of recollection in a 
 doubtful case of hallucination is an argument for 
 or against a morbid state; but at any rate I re- 
 member very intensely the picture of those mon- 
 strosities rising out of the medley of linen wrap- 
 pings and bottles among the scattered instruments 
 of steel. 
 
 Was there nothing more to see? I rummaged 
 in the corners — no, nothing more. I had fol- 
 lowed step by step my uncle's work and in the 
 rational order of their ascending scale. 
 
 I got back to the chateau without let or hin- 
 drance and regained my bedroom. There the 
 hectic vigor which had been supporting me quite 
 
82 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 failed me. Vainly I tried, as I undressed, to re- 
 capitulate my campaign. It was already assum- 
 ing the appearance of a bad dream and I no longer 
 believed in it. Could the vegetable kingdom 
 really mingle with the animal? What an absurd- 
 ity! If plant-polypi are almost animal-polypi, 
 what can an insect and a leaf, for example, have 
 in common? Then I felt a sharp pain in the 
 thumb of my right hand: a little white pustle 
 ringed with pink was budding there. In my jour- 
 ney through the woods something had stung me. 
 But I was unable to say whether it was the ven- 
 geance of a nettle or of an ant. This made me 
 feel the possibilities of things, and that I had not 
 to accept them as having been realized by my 
 uncle. My reflections were as follows : — 
 
 "To sum up, Lerne has tried to amalgamate 
 vegetables and animals, and to make them ex- 
 change their vitalities. His methods, judiciously 
 progressive, have succeeded. But are they aims 
 in themselves, or only a means to something else? 
 What is he trying to reach? I cannot see how 
 those experiments can have practical applications 
 that a financier might exploit. So, they are not 
 ends in themselves. It seems to me that they tend 
 to something more perfect which I can vaguely di- 
 vine without fully perceiving. My head is full of 
 woolly headache — Come, let me see ! . . . Per- 
 haps the Professor is carrying on at the same time 
 
IHE CONSERVATORY 83 
 
 other researches converging to the same point as 
 these, a knowledge of which would make the final 
 object clear. Come, come ! Logic, logic. On 
 the one hand. . . . Oh, Lord I am tired — On the 
 one hand I have seen vegetables grafted together, 
 on the other hand my uncle has begun mixing up 
 plants and beasts . . . ah, I give it up." 
 
 My exhausted mind refused to reason any more. 
 I saw in a confused way that in his study of graft- 
 ing he had neglected a whole branch of the subject, 
 or at least that the hot-house was not its theater. 
 My eyelids grew heavy. The more I tried to in- 
 duce or deduce the more I got confused. The ap- 
 parition of the preceding night, the gray buildings, 
 and Emma came to aggravate my distraught con- 
 dition with anxiety, curiosity and desire. In 
 short, never had a feather pillow been the haunt 
 of such a welter of ideas. 
 
 A riddle ! 
 
 Yes, Indeed, a riddle ! And yet, though the 
 sphinxes were all round me, through the dim 
 vapor which was now less thick I clearly distin- 
 guished them. And as one of them had a pleasing 
 face and a youthful figure, I fell asleep smiling. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 HOT AND COLD 
 
 Qui dort dine. My slumber lasted till the next 
 morning. 
 
 And yet I never rested so ill. The bruised 
 feeling caused by a day spent in a motor-car came 
 over my loin-muscles, and for long I felt in them 
 the ricochets of ghostly jolts and the twists of 
 spectral skids. Then I was visited by dreams in 
 which a world of miracle came to life. Broce- 
 liande, the Shakespearean forest, began to move ; 
 In the press of it trees walked along arm in arm; 
 a birch tree which looked like a lance made me a 
 speech in German, and I could hardly hear it, for 
 many of the flowers were singing, plants yelped in- 
 sistently, and great trees every now and then 
 howled aloud. 
 
 On my awakening, I remembered this hulla- 
 baloo with a phonographic exactitude — so much 
 so, that I was alarmed about it, and I was angry 
 with myself for not having made a full examina- 
 tion of the conservatory; a less hasty and calmer 
 study of it would doubtless have enlightened me. 
 I severely condemned my undue haste and my 
 
 84 
 
HOT AND COLD 8^ 
 
 nervous condition of the day before. But why 
 not make up for it? Perhaps it was not too late? 
 
 With my hands behind my back, and a cigarette 
 between my lips, with no particular aim in my 
 steps, I passed in front of the conservatory, as if 
 I were merely taking a stroll. 
 
 It was locked. 
 
 So, I had missed the one chance of learning the 
 truth, yes, I felt, the one and only chance. Oh, 
 donkey, donkey ! 
 
 In order not to arouse suspicion, I had passed 
 the forbidden place without pausing, and now an 
 avenue led me towards the gray buildings. 
 Through the grass which covered It, a beaten path 
 bore witness to frequent passings to and fro. 
 
 After following the track for some time, I saw 
 my uncle coming to meet me. No doubt he had 
 been on the watch for my coming out. He was 
 quite cheery. His discolored countenance, when 
 he smiled, was now like his young face of long ago. 
 This affable expression restored my equanimity. 
 My escapade had passed unpercelved. 
 
 "Well, my boy," said he In almost a friendly 
 way, *'I bet you are of my way of thinking. It 
 is not a cheerful place. You will soon be weary 
 of your sentimental sojourn at the bottom of this 
 stewpan 1" 
 
 "Oh, uncle, I have always loved Fonval, not 
 for the scenery, but as a venerable friend, an an- 
 
86 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 cestor, if you like. It is one of the family. I 
 have often played, you know, on its lawns and 
 among the branches of its trees; it's a godfather 
 that has dandled me on its knee — like — like you, 
 uncle." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Lerne evasively. "All the 
 same you will soon have had enough of it." 
 
 "Not at all. The park of Fonval is my earthly 
 paradise." 
 
 "There you are right. It's just that," he said 
 laughingly, "the forbidden tree grows in its in- 
 closure. Every hour you will come up against 
 the Tree of Life, and the Tree of Knowledge 
 which you must not touch. It's dangerous. In 
 your position I should go out for a run in your 
 mechanical carriage. Oh, if Adam had only had 
 a mechanical carriage !" 
 
 "But, uncle, there is the labyrinth!" 
 
 "Oh," cried the Professor gayly, "I'll accom- 
 pany you and guide you. Besides I am anxious 
 to see one of those what d'-you-call-ems working." 
 
 "Automobile, uncle." 
 
 "Ah, yes, automobile," and his Teutonic accent 
 gave the word, which is a slow-moving one as it is, 
 an amplitude, a weight, a monumental immobility. 
 
 We were going side by side towards the coach- 
 house. There was no denying that my uncle had 
 made up his mind to endure my intrusion with 
 courage. Nevertheless his persistent good temper 
 
HOT AND COLD 87 
 
 only vexed me. My projects of Indiscretion 
 seemed less legitimate to me. Perhaps I should 
 have abandoned them altogether at that moment, 
 had not my desire for Emma driven me to wish 
 ill to her despotic jailor. Besides, was he sincere ? 
 And was It not merely to Incite me to keep my 
 plighted word that he said to me on arriving at 
 the Improvised garage : 
 
 "Nicolas, I have reflected a great deal. I 
 really do think you might be very useful to us In 
 the future, and I desire your further acquaintance. 
 Since you want to remain here for some days, we 
 shall often have talks. In the mornings I do not 
 work much ; we shall employ them in going about 
 either on foot, or In your car, and in conversation. 
 But don't forget your promises." 
 
 I nodded assent. "After all," thought I, "it 
 really seems as if he wanted one day to publish the 
 solution to the problem. Why should it not be 
 legitimate enough, though the operations that are 
 to procure it are not so? It's them he wishes to 
 hide until the result comes; he expects the eclat of 
 the latter to excuse the barbarity of the former 
 and to obtain his pardon — if only the end does not 
 betray the means, and the means can remain for- 
 ever unknown. On the other hand, might Lerne 
 not be afraid of competition? Why not?" 
 
 I was ruminating on all this as I emptied a little 
 tin of petrol into the tank of my excellent car, a 
 
88 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 tin which propitious Chance had allowed me to 
 find in the boot. 
 
 Lerne got in beside me. He pointed out to 
 me a straight road that skirted a cliff of the defile, 
 a surreptitious cross-road ingeniously concealed. 
 I was astonished at first that my uncle should have 
 pointed out this short cut to me, but, after all, was 
 he not showing me how to get away, and was not 
 this au fond what he most desired? 
 
 Oh, the dear uncle ! He must have lived a very 
 secluded or very absorbed life, for he was patheti- 
 cally ignorant of all that concerns motor-cars. 
 His was the sort of ignorance savants have with 
 regard to sciences in which they are not specialists. 
 My physiologist was not strong on the subject of 
 mechanics. He hardly suspected the principle of 
 this docile, supple, silent and speedy engine of 
 locomotion which roused his enthusiasm. 
 
 At the edge of the forest : 
 
 "Let us stop here, please," said he. "You 
 must explain this machine to me. This is where 
 I usually end my walks. I am an old eccentric. 
 You shall go on by yourself afterwards, if you 
 like." 
 
 I began my demonstration, and I perceived that 
 the hooter, only slightly damaged, could be re- 
 paired in a turn of the hand. Two screws and a 
 piece of wire restored its deafening power. 
 Lerne, at the sound of it, beamed with ingenuous 
 
HOT AND COLD 89 
 
 delight. I went on with my lecture, and as I 
 talked, my uncle listened to me with increasing 
 attention. 
 
 In truth the thing deserved attentive interest. 
 During the preceding three years, if motor engines 
 had but little changed in the essentials of their 
 structure and in that of their principal organs, fit- 
 tings on the other hand had progressed, and the 
 materials employed were employed more judici- 
 ously. Thus, in the construction of my car, 
 whose only woodwork was the racing-seats, no 
 wood had been employed. My 80 horse-power 
 affair formed a little luxurious and neatly fur- 
 nished workshop all of cast iron and steel, of 
 copper and aluminum. The great invention of 
 the day had been applied to it — I mean that it did 
 not rest on four pneumatic tires, but on spring- 
 wheels which were wonderfully elastic. Nowa- 
 days that seems quite a matter of course; but a 
 year ago my iron fellies caused much surprise. 
 
 But the most remarkable thing about my 234- 
 XY, when you come to think of it, was, I think, 
 that improvement which engineers obtained so 
 slowly that one did not see it growing day by day 
 — I mean its automatism. 
 
 The first horseless machine was encumbered 
 with levers, pedals, handles and wheels necessary 
 for Its guidance, and with taps and grease-valves 
 to turn, which were Indispensable for the func- 
 
90 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 tioning of the engine. Now, each generation of 
 motor-cars has dispensed with these more and 
 more completely. One by one, almost all those 
 handles have disappeared which require the in- 
 cessant intervention of man. In our days, by 
 means of its organs which have become automatic, 
 the mechanism controls the mechanism. A chauf- 
 feur is no more than a pilot; once going, his ma- 
 chine keeps up its own energy; once awake, it will 
 only fall asleep again at the word of command. 
 In short, as Lerne bade me note, the modern 
 motor-car enjoys properties that a spinal cord 
 might confer; it enjoys instinct and reflex actions. 
 Spontaneous movements take place in it along 
 with the voluntary movements caused by the in- 
 telligence of the driver, who becomes as it were 
 the brain of the vehicle. It is from this intelli- 
 gence that the orders for definite actions go, trans- 
 mitted by the metallic nerves to the steel muscles. 
 
 "Moreover," said my uncle, "the resemblance 
 between this machine and the body of a vertebrate 
 animal is striking." 
 
 Here Lerne was entering his own domain. I 
 lent an attentive ear, and he went on : 
 
 "We have here the nervous and muscular sys- 
 tems represented by the striker-rods, the driving- 
 gear and the cranks. And the chassis, Nicolas, 
 what is it but the skeleton into which the tenants 
 insert themselves like tendons? Blood, the vital 
 
HOT AND COLD 91 
 
 element, circulates in those copper arteries in the 
 form of petrol. The carburetor breathes; it's a 
 lung; instead of combining air with blood, it 
 mixes it with the vapor of the petrol, that's all I 
 This hood resembles a thorax in which life beats 
 rhythmically — our joints move In the syyiovia as 
 those swivel-joints in oil. Under the shelter of 
 the resisting skin of the case Is the tank, a stomach 
 that grows hungry and is replenished. Here, 
 phosphorescent like those of cats, but as yet void 
 of sight, are eyes, its lamps; its voice Is the hooter; 
 and — but I need not go into further details. In 
 a word, Nicolas, the only thing wanting to your 
 car Is brain, which you sometimes supply; having 
 that It would become a great deaf beast, blind, 
 insensitive and sterile, without the sense of taste 
 or of smell." 
 
 "A regular collection of infirmities," I said, 
 bursting Into a loud laugh. 
 
 "Hum!" rejoined Lerne, "in other respects the 
 motor-car is better off than we. Think how the 
 water cools it ; what a remedy against fever ! And 
 then what a time the engine can last, if it is wisely 
 used! It can be mended indefinitely — it can al- 
 ways be cured; have you not just restored speech 
 to its maw? You could replace an eye just as 
 easily!" 
 
 The Professor was getting excited : 
 
 "It's a powerful and terrible body," he cried, 
 
92 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 "but a body that allows itself to be clothed — It 
 has armor which increases the power of the wearer 
 beyond all expectation, a cuirass that multiplies its 
 force and speed. Why, you inside it are like the 
 Maritans of Mr. Wells in their tripod cylinders! 
 You are nothing but the brain of an artificial 
 monster that it makes one giddy to think of." 
 
 "All machines are like that, uncle." 
 
 "No. Not so completely. But for the form 
 (which no animal resembles of course) the auto- 
 mobile is the most congruous automaton ever 
 contrived. It is more made in our image than 
 the best mannikin wound up by a key, the most 
 human of puppets. For under their anthropo- 
 morphic envelope those mannikins hide a mere 
 roasting-jack organism, which one would not com- 
 pare with the anatomy of a snail. Whereas 
 here ..." 
 
 Hei drew back a step and regarded my car with 
 a look of tenderness: 
 
 "What a superb creature," he exclaimed, "and 
 how great is man !" 
 
 "Yes," said I to myself, "there is a deal more 
 beauty in a thing we create, than in all your sinister 
 joining of flesh and wood that are both from of 
 old. But it's not bad on your part to have ad- 
 mitted It." 
 
 Though It was late, I went on to Grey-1 'Abbaye 
 to replenish my stock of petrol, and though he was 
 
HOT AND COLD 93 
 
 a creature of routine, Lerne, infatuated with auto- 
 mobilism, passed beyond the traditional limit of 
 his walks and insisted on accompanying me. 
 
 Then we resumed the way to Fonval. My 
 uncle, with all the ardor of a neophyte, bent over 
 the bonnet In order to listen to the pulsations 
 within the metal frame, then he took to pieces one 
 of the oil-valves. All the time he kept question- 
 ing me, and I had to inform him of the smallest 
 details of my car, details which he assimilated 
 with an incredible accuracy. 
 
 "I say, Nicolas, sound the hooter, will you? 
 Now — go slow — stop — start again — quicker — 
 that will do — put on the brake — back now — stop 
 — it's colossal!" 
 
 He was laughing. His cloudy face seemed al- 
 most beautified. Seeing us one would have said 
 we were excellent friends. In fact we were so 
 then perhaps. And I fancied that perhaps, 
 thanks to my "two-seater," Lerne might one day 
 confide in me. 
 
 He preserved this gayety till our return to the 
 chateau; the proximity of the mysterious work- 
 shop did not affect it; it only disappeared in the 
 dining room. Then suddenly Lerne's brow 
 darkened. Emma had just come in. And the 
 husband of my aunt Lidivine seemed to have ef- 
 faced himself with my uncle's smile, only an 
 
94 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Irritable old savant remaining between his two 
 guests. I then felt how little his future discov- 
 eries mattered In comparison with this woman, 
 and that he wanted to acquire glory and wealth 
 only In order to keep the charming girl by his 
 side. 
 
 Assuredly he loved her just as I did, and with 
 the same fierce desire. 
 
 Barbe came and went as she waited on us more 
 or less anyhow. We were silent. I avoided 
 looking at Emma, being persuaded that my looks 
 would have resembled kisses and that my uncle 
 would have divined them. 
 
 She, now quite at her ease, pretended Indiffer- 
 ence ; and with her chin In her hands, her elbows 
 on the table, her bare arms showing out of her 
 short sleeves, she gazed through the windows at 
 the meadows whose inhabitants were lowing. 
 
 I should have liked to gaze at the same sight as 
 my bien-aimce; this distant and sentimental com- 
 munion would have satisfied one ; but unluckily the 
 meadows were not visible from where I sat, and 
 my eyes wandered Idly about, none the less noting 
 the whiteness of her bare arms and the unwonted 
 heaving of her bodice. 
 
 As I was interpreting this unwonted emotion on 
 her part in my favor, Lerne, hostile and taciturn, 
 broke up the party. He ordered Emma off to her 
 
HOT AND COLD 95 
 
 room and giving me a book bade me go and read 
 in tiie shade of the forest. 
 
 I had but to obey. "Bah," I said to myself, "in 
 spite of his exhortations, he is more to be pitied 
 than I am." 
 
 The happenings of that night cooled my pity 
 most notably. 
 
 The incident troubled me all the more that It 
 did nothing to lighten the darkness of the mystery; 
 in itself It seemed incomprehensible. This Is what 
 it was: 
 
 I had peacefully fallen asleep with my mind 
 dwelling on Emma, and the delightful hope she 
 inspired; but sleep instead of bringing me pleasant 
 dreams, brought back the absurdities of the pre- 
 ceding night, the moaning and barking plants. 
 The Intensity of the sound kept Increasing In my 
 dream, and at last It became so acute, so real, 
 that I suddenly woke up. 
 
 Sweat was drenching my body and my hot 
 sheets. The echo of a recent cry was just dying 
 on my tympanum. It was not the first time I 
 heard It. No — In the labyrinth I had heard It 
 before, that cry, far away in the direction of 
 Fonval. 
 
 I raised myself on my hands. A ray of moon- 
 light lit my room. I could hear nothing. Only 
 from the old-fashioned clock came any sound — 
 
96 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 that of Time's sickle. My head fell back on the 
 pillow. 
 
 Then suddenly, with a shuddering of my whole 
 being, I buried myself in the blankets with my 
 fingers in my ears. The sinister howling was 
 rising from the park into the night, a sinister, un- 
 earthly howling. It was indeed that which I had 
 heard in my nightmare; my dream had mingled 
 with reality. 
 
 With a superhuman effort I arose, and it was 
 then that I heard yelpings — a sort of stifled yelp- 
 ings, very much stifled. 
 
 Well, after all, it might all be proceeding from 
 a dog's throat, hang it! 
 
 Nothing to be seen from the window on the 
 garden side except the plane tree and the other 
 trees drowsing in the mxoonlight. 
 
 Then the howling began again on the left, and 
 from the other window I saw what seemed to me 
 for a moment to explain everything. 
 
 Some distance away a starved-looking dog was 
 standing with its back towards me. It was a huge 
 animal, and it had laid its front paws on the closed 
 shutters of my former bedroom, and every now 
 and then uttered a loud long wail. The other 
 barkings — the stifled ones — replied to him from 
 the inside of the house; but were they really 
 yelps? Had my ears deceived me? It sounded 
 more like the voice of a man trying to imitate the 
 
HOT AND COLD 97 
 
 voice of a dog. The more I listened, the more 
 that conclusion forced itself on me. Yes, certainly 
 there could be no mistake; how could I have hesi- 
 tated? It was quite clear — some practical joker 
 in my bedroom was amusing himself with teasing 
 the poor brute. 
 
 And he succeeded in doing so; for the animal 
 gave signs of increasing exasperation. He 
 modulated his howling in the most extraordinary 
 manner, making it sound like a cry of despair. 
 Finally he scratched the shutters with rage and 
 bit them. I heard the crackling of the wood be- 
 tween his jaws. 
 
 Suddenly the beast became motionless, its hair 
 bristling. There was a brusque and violent out- 
 burst in that room. I recognized my uncle's voice 
 but could not catch the meaning of his reprimand. 
 Immediately the joker was silent. But — and how 
 to account for this amazing circumstance? — the 
 dog whose frenzy should have been appeased, was 
 now beside itself; its backbone bristled up like 
 that of a wild boar. Growling, it began to follow 
 the wall of the chateau, till It reached the main 
 door. 
 
 Just as it reached it, Lerne opened it. 
 
 Fortunately for me I had, in caution, not raised 
 my window curtain. His first look was towards 
 my window. 
 
 In a low voice, with restrained wrath, the Pro- 
 
98 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 fessor lectured the dog, but he did not come for- 
 ward, and I perceived he was afraid of it. The 
 other came nearer, growling, with its eyes flashing 
 from under its great brow. Lerne then spoke 
 aloud : 
 
 *'To your kennel, you dirty brute!" (Then 
 came some words in a foreign tongue.) "Get 
 away," he went on in French; and as the animal 
 still came on — "Do you want me to knock your 
 brains out? Eh?" 
 
 My uncle seemed to be losing his wits. The 
 moon heightened his pallor. "He'll be torn to 
 bits," I said to myself, "he has not even a riding- 
 switch." 
 
 "Go back, Nell, go back." 
 
 Nell? So it was the St. Bernard bitch belong- 
 ing to the Scot. 
 
 And then came a stream of foreign words which 
 to my complete astonishment made me realize that 
 jTiy uncle knev/ English. 
 
 His invectives resounded in the silence of the 
 night. 
 
 The dog gathered Itself together; it was just 
 going to spring when Lerne, at the end of his re- 
 sources, threatened it with a revolver and with the 
 other hand pointed out the way he wanted the 
 beast to go. 
 
 Now, it has happened to me, when out shooting, 
 to see a dog run away when a gun is leveled at It; 
 
HOT AND COLD 99 
 
 he knows its deadly power. That this should 
 happen in presence of a pistol seemed to me de- 
 cidedly less ordinary. Had Nell already experi- 
 enced the effect of the weapon? That was a 
 plausible theory; but I fancied that she had under- 
 stood the English — English being Macbeth's 
 tongue — rather than my uncle's revolver. 
 
 She calmed down, as at the voice of Orpheus, 
 cowered and with her tail between her legs, made 
 for the gray buildings which Lerne was pointing 
 out to her. He ran after the hound, and the 
 darkness swallowed them. 
 
 In my clock the imperishable Harvester mowed 
 down several minutes. 
 
 In the distance a door banged noisily. Then 
 Lerne came in again. 
 
 That was all. 
 
 So there were at Fonval two beings whose exist- 
 ence had till then been unsuspected by me; Nell, 
 whose pitiful appearance hardly showed her to be 
 happy, Nell, abandoned doubtless by her master 
 in a hasty flight — and the practical joker. For 
 this latter could not, in reason, be either of the 
 two women or one of the Germans; the nature of 
 the joke betrayed its author's age. Only a child 
 could divert itself at the expense of a dog. But 
 nobody to my knowledge lodged in that wing. 
 
 "Ah," Lerne had said to me, "I am using your 
 room." Who, then, lived in it? 
 
loo NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 I was determined to find out somehow. If the 
 hidden presence of Nell in the gray buildings in- 
 vested them with a new interest, mysterious as 
 they already were, the closed rooms of the chateau 
 became yet another center of attraction. 
 
 At last my objectives were clearing. 
 
 And as the prospect of hunting down the secret 
 made me quiver with excitement, a presentiment 
 warned me that I should do well to pursue it to 
 the death, and so defy Lerne's first command be- 
 fore breaking the second. 
 
 "Let me find out first what it is all about," said 
 my conscience; "there is something wrong. After 
 that, I can attend to the baggage in peace." 
 
 Why did I not follow my own advice? But 
 conscience speaks in a very low voice, and who can 
 hear it when passion begins to blare? 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 "the MADiMAN" 
 
 A WEEK later on, I was in ambush behind the 
 door of my former bedroom — the yellow one — 
 with my eye to the keyhole. 
 
 Oh! it was not easy, or it did not appear so. 
 Never had the left wing of Fonval been so jeal- 
 ously closed, even In the days when the monks had 
 been cloistered there. 
 
 How had I got in there? In the simplest 
 manner possible. 
 
 The Yellow Room is reached by the central 
 hall — where every one could walk if he liked — by 
 a series of three rooms. The hall joins on to the 
 drawing-room, then comes the billiard-room, 
 which opens Into the boudoir, and finally this 
 boudoir opens, on the rig:ht. Into the Yellow 
 Room, which lies back towards the park. 
 
 Now, on this day, before profiting by an In- 
 creased freedom, I tried, one by one, in the lock, 
 keys which I had stolen from other doors here and 
 there. I had no confidence. Suddenly the lock 
 yielded. I opened the door, and I saw In the half 
 
 lui 
 
102 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 light made by the closed shutters, the whole suite 
 of rooms. 
 
 I recognized as I went from threshold to thresh- 
 old the special odor of each — each a little more 
 musty than in the old days — the sort of odors that 
 the Past would exhale, if one could travel in its 
 dust. 
 
 I followed on the tips of my toes a track on 
 which many boots had left their mud — now dry. 
 A mouse ran over the drawing-room carpet. On 
 the billiard-table, the ivory balls — red and white 
 — formed an isosceles triangle. Mentally I cal- 
 culated the stroke, the amount of screw I should 
 put on, and the place where I should hit the second 
 ball, then I found myself in the boudoir itself. 
 The clock, which had stopped, pointed to twelve. 
 I felt myself very receptive. But, hardly had I 
 had the leisure to see the shut door of the Yellow 
 Room, than a sound brought me back hurriedly 
 into the hall. 
 
 It was no jesting matter. Lerne worked in the 
 gray buildings, but he knew that I was in the 
 chateau, and on such occasions, it was his custom 
 to come in suddenly to watch me. It seemed to 
 me prudent to put off the enterprise. 
 
 An hour's liberty was indispensable to me, so I 
 evolved the following stratagem: 
 
 The next day I went in my car to Grey- 
 I'Abbaye, and I there bought several articles of 
 
"THE MADMAN" 103 
 
 toilet, and hid them in a bush in the forest, not 
 far from the Park. 
 
 On the day after that, after lunch, Emma heard 
 me say: 
 
 *'I am going to Grey this afternoon. I am 
 going to get some articles I need. If I cannot 
 get them there, I shall push on to Nanthel. Have 
 you any commissions to give me?" 
 
 Fortunately, they had none, otherwise every- 
 thing would have come to grief. 
 
 By this means I could go out for a quarter-of- 
 an-hour, and bring in my purchases from the bush, 
 as if I had gone to make them in the village. 
 
 Now, one might reckon on the journey from 
 Fonval to Grey and back taking about an hour- 
 and-a-quarter, so I had an hour at my disposal. 
 
 I go out, leave my car in the thicket not far 
 from the hiding-place in the bushes, then come 
 into the garden again over the wall. The ivy on 
 one side, and the trellis on the other, made it easier. 
 Keeping close to the castle wall, I reached the hall. 
 
 And now, I am in the drawing-room, with the 
 door carefully shut behind me. In case I might 
 need to make a dash, however, I thought it 
 prudent not to turn the key, and now I am spying, 
 with my eye to the lock of the yellow chamber. 
 
 The keyhole was a large one. It made a sort 
 of loop-hole through which a keen air was blowing 
 — and what do I see ? 
 
I04 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 The room was dark and cut Into layers by the 
 shutters. A slanting ray seemed to be supporting 
 the window with its column, and the motes of dust 
 were dancing about in it as the worlds dance about 
 in space. 
 
 On the carpet the laths of the shutters projected 
 their lines. Here was a den! A gypsy lair! 
 Here and there, clothes on the ground. A plate 
 with scraps, and near it a piece of filth. One 
 would have said it was a hermit's haunt. 
 
 Ah ! and what was that which moved on the 
 bed ? There he is, the recluse ! It's a man ! He 
 was lying face downwards amongst the disorder 
 of the bolster and the quilt, with his head leaning 
 on his arms. He had on only a nightshirt and 
 trousers. His beard was of several weeks' 
 growth, and, like his hair, which was rather short, 
 was almost of a whitish-yellow. 
 
 Ever since that cry the other night, my head 
 had been full of whimsies. No, I had never seen 
 that puffy, dirty face — that podgy body. 
 
 His eyes seemed kindly enough — stupid, but 
 good and endearing. Um ! What a curious in- 
 difference in his face ! He must be a lazy chap, 
 though. 
 
 The prisoner was snoozing, badly, it seemed. 
 The flies were annoying him. He drives them 
 away with a sudden clumsy gesture of his hand. 
 His indolent eye follows their flight between his 
 
'THE MADMAN" 105 
 
 snoozes, and sometimes, seized with a fit of anger, 
 and making his lips smack together with a sudden 
 movement of his head, he tries to snap up the 
 insects that irritate him so as they pass by. 
 
 The madman ! There is a madman in my 
 uncle's house!! Who could he be? My eyelids 
 touched the keyhole. My eye became frozen. 
 The other one, taking its turn of duty, is rather 
 short-sighted. I saw very badly. My line of 
 sight was rather narrow. Good God! I have 
 hit the door and made a noise. The madman has 
 jumped up ! How small he is ! Hallo ! here he 
 is coming towards me ! Suppose I were to open 
 the door? Ah ! Now he is throwing himself on 
 the floor and sniffing and growling. Poor fellow ! 
 It is a sad sight. 
 
 He had guessed nothing. Crouching in the 
 track of the sunray, and all striped with the 
 shadow of the shutters, I could more easily ex- 
 amine him. 
 
 His hands and face were spotted with little rosy 
 stains, like old scratches. One would have said 
 that he had been fighting. 
 
 Ah ! but this is graver. A long purple scar goes 
 under his hair, from one temple to the other, 
 round the back of his head. It is very likely the 
 scar of a wound. 
 
 The poor fellow has been ill-treated. Lerne 
 has made him undergo some horrible treatment, 
 
io6 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 or he is wreaking some vengeance on him. Oh! 
 the brute ! 
 
 Immediately an association of ideas worked in 
 my brain. I remembered the Indian profile of my 
 uncle, the unusual locks of Emma, — those of the 
 madman which are so yellow, and the green fleece 
 of the rat. Can Lerne t>s trying to graft hairy 
 scalps on bald scalps? Can that be the enter- 
 prise? — and immediately I see that my idea is 
 absurd. Nothing corroborates it, and then (this 
 is a clinching argument) the madman has not been 
 scalped, as in that case his scar would have de- 
 scribed a complete circle. Why should he not 
 have gone mad simply through a fall on the back 
 of his head? At any rate, he is not a dangerous 
 lunatic. He is harmless. He has rather a nice 
 expression. His eyes now shine with a sort of 
 intelligence. I am sure if I questioned him gently 
 he would answer. Suppose I tried. 
 
 Only a bolt closed the door on my side. I drew 
 it deliberately, but before I got into the Yellow 
 Room, the recluse dashed forward, head down- 
 wards — passed between my legs, knocked me 
 down, and then escaped, with those dog's yelps 
 which the other night had made me take him for 
 a practical joker. 
 
 I was disconcerted by his agihty. How could 
 he make a fool of me that way? And what a 
 strange idea, that of running between my legs I 
 
"THE MADMAN" 107 
 
 In spite of the suddenness of the adventure, 
 just as quickly as he made me fall, I got on my 
 legs again, dazed and astonished. Here is a luna- 
 tic let loose — a madman who will ruin me ! "Oh ! 
 Nicolas, my boy, you are done for, done for! 
 There is not the shadow of a doubt about it. 
 Would it not be better to take French leave than 
 chase the fugitive? What good can it do now? 
 Ah! But Emma and the secret! Oh, damn it 
 all ! Let's try and catch him !" and I am after the 
 Unknown. 
 
 I hope he won't go near the gray buildings. 
 No, thank goodness, he is taking the opposite di- 
 rection ! None the less, anybody can see us. 
 
 The Deserter goes gamboling along in high 
 spirits, and plunges in the wood. Thank 
 heaven, the creature is no longer barking, and that 
 is always something. Is that somebody? No, it 
 is a statue. I must gain on him as soon as pos- 
 sible. If he only takes the wrong turn, we shall 
 be spotted, and it is all up with me. How cheer- 
 ful he seems, the brute ! Curse him ! If he goes 
 on in this line, we shall be round the Park, and 
 the chase will pass under the front of the gray 
 buildings — under the very windows of Lerne. 
 
 A blessing on the trees which still hide us. 
 Quick. . . . That drawing-room door which I 
 have left open ! Quick! Quick. . . . 
 
 But the fellow did not know he was being 
 
io8 NEW BODIES FOR OLD. 
 
 chased. He did not look behind him. His bare 
 feet were hurting him and keeping him back. I 
 am gaining on him. . . . 
 
 He has stopped and is sniffing the breeze; now 
 he is off again; but I have got nearer. He has 
 jumped into the bushes on the left, towards the 
 cliff — so do I. I am only ten yards off, now. He 
 dashes through the brambles without heeding 
 their thorns. I follow in his wake. The branches 
 are lashing at him, and the thorns are hurting 
 him. He is moaning. Well, why does not he 
 thrust them aside? He could easily avoid their 
 clutches. The cliffs are not far away. Now we 
 are making straight for them. On my honor ! 
 My quarry seems to know perfectly well where it 
 is going. I see his back now and again. I must 
 track him by the crackling of the branches. 
 
 At last I see his narrow head again, against 
 the rocky path. Silently I glide up. Another 
 second, and I shall be upon him, but an unexpected 
 action of his makes me pause at the edge of the 
 clear space which encircles me, and of which the 
 cliff forms one side. 
 
 He is on his knees, scratching furiously at the 
 soil. The task tortures his nails, so that he 
 whines as he did a moment ago amongst the thorns 
 of the hawthorn and the bramble. 
 
 The earth flies from behind him up to me; his 
 rigid hands working with force and rapid motion. 
 
•THE MADMAN" 109 
 
 He digs away, groaning with pain, then, ever and 
 anon, plunges his nose into the hole as deeply as 
 he can, snorts, shaking his head, and resumes his 
 task. 
 
 The scar is now fully visible to me, it is like a 
 livid crown. Oh ! I do not mind his madness. 
 Now's the time. Jump on him, and carry him 
 off! 
 
 I come out of the thicket stealthily. Hallo ! 
 somebody has already been digging here ! A heap 
 of earth, which has become gray, shows that my 
 yellow-haired gentleman is only resuming some 
 old bit of work. Well ! Well ! 
 
 I bend my legs and get ready to jump. 
 
 The man then utters a grunt of pleasure, and 
 what do I see in the hole he has made — an old 
 shoe that he has just unearthed! Ah! poor 
 humanity! 
 
 I jumped. I have got him, the rascal. Good 
 Lord! he turns round and thrusts me away, but 
 I shall not leave go. It is queer how awkward 
 he Is with his hands. 
 
 Ah ! would you bite, you devil ! 
 
 I grasp him hard enough to break his bones. 
 He has never done any wrestling, that is clear, 
 but I have not got the better of him yet. Ah! 
 I have made a wrong step ! it is the hole. ... 
 
 I am walking on the old boot. Horror! 
 There is something in it — something which is fas- 
 
no NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 tening it to the ground. I am beginning to pant. 
 "Nothing fits a foot like a shoe." 
 
 I must have done with this. The moments are 
 golden. 
 
 Each clasping the other, my adversary and I 
 are face to face, in front of the rock, gasping — 
 equally matched. . . . Ah! an idea. I opened 
 my eyes terribly wide, as if it were a matter of 
 subduing a child, or a beast. I put on the domi- 
 nating look of a master, whereupon, the other let 
 go of his hold, quite tamed, and repentant — and if 
 he is not licking my hands in token of obedience ! 
 
 Ah, well ! Come along. 
 
 I drag him away. The shoe is an elastic one, 
 and stands up with its toe in the air. It has not 
 that lamentable look of worn-out shoes that have 
 been thrown away on the road, but it is more re- 
 pulsive. What fixes it on the ground is deep in 
 the soil. One can only see the end of a bit of 
 knitting. Can it be a sock? 
 
 Trot along, my friend ! 
 
 My companion remains docile, thanks to my 
 masterful glances, and we run as hard as we can. 
 
 Good Heavens ! What will have happened in 
 the castle during this expedition? 
 
 Nothing whatever had happened, as a matter 
 of fact. 
 
 But, as we got into the hall, I heard Emma and 
 Barbe talking on the floor above. They were be- 
 
'THE MADMAN" iii 
 
 ginning to come down the stairs, when the draw- 
 ing-room door shutting, as we went in, ended my 
 alarms — only to give me new ones. 
 
 How, now that the poor lunatic was back in his 
 room, how was I to get out without being observed 
 by one or other of the women? 
 
 Stealthily creeping back on tiptoe to the draw- 
 ing-room, I listened, with my ear to the panel, to 
 distinguish in which direction the two intruders 
 were moving, but suddenly I recoiled into the 
 middle of the room, demented, looking for shelter 
 of some kind, such as a screen, and gasping like a 
 drowning man. . . . 
 
 A key was rattling in the lock. Was it my key, 
 left in the door, and stolen during my absence? 
 Not at all. Here is my key, in my waistcoat 
 pocket I I put it there, when I first came in. 
 
 Well, then, what could it be? 
 
 The verdigrised handle slowly turned. They 
 were coming in. Who? The Germans? Lerne? 
 
 Emma ! Well, she could only see an empty 
 room. One of the great damask curtains stirred, 
 perhaps, but she did not remark it. 
 
 Barbe stood behind her. The girl was saying 
 softly: "Stay in there and watch the garden. Do 
 what you did the other day: that was all right. 
 As soon as the old man comes out of the Labora- 
 tory, warn me by coughing." 
 
 "It is not he who worries me," replied Barbe, 
 
112 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 obviously afraid. "He is quite easy in his mind 
 at this moment, I assure you. We shall not see 
 him before night, but as for that Nicolas, that Is 
 another pair of shoes. He is coming on !" 
 
 So the gray buildings were called the Labora- 
 tory, and it was for using that word that the 
 Professor had silenced the servant with a slap. I 
 was beginning to know more. 
 
 Emma went on in an irritated tone : 
 
 "I tell you again, there is no danger. It is not 
 the first time, is it?" 
 
 "Ah ! but that Nicolas was not there." 
 
 "Come, do what I tell you." 
 
 Not quite resigned, Barbe went off to keep 
 watch. Emma remained for a few instants 
 listening. 
 
 Beautiful ! Oh, she was beautiful ! Like the 
 very demon of unlawful love, and yet she was but 
 an outline against the shining rectangle of the 
 door — a motionless shadow, but a shadow as 
 supple as a movement. For Emma in repose, al- 
 ways seemed as if she had paused in the middle of 
 a dance, and was even continuing it through some 
 strange spell, so completely did the sight of her 
 make a harmony — that harmony of the wanton 
 bayaderes, whose only miming is love-making, and 
 who cannot move in their undulating, quivering 
 motions, without shaking their locks, nor make the 
 
"THE MADMAN" 113 
 
 least little gesture without a suggestion of 
 voluptuousness. 
 
 Life was boiling in my veins! My senses 
 whirled. It was like a tide of passion rising from 
 out the depths of the ages. 
 
 Emma! In the madman's room! Heavens! 
 With that brute! The wretched girl! I could 
 have killed her. 
 
 You will say that I did not know anything, that 
 my suspicions were groundless. 
 
 Ah, then, you do not know that impulsive gait, 
 that sly and hungry look of women who are going 
 stealthily to a sweetheart. 
 
 It maddened me. The pretty girl, as she has- 
 tened to this ignoble scene, brushed the curtain 
 with the swish of her skirt. I stood before her 
 barring the path. 
 
 She gave a gasp of terror. I thought she was 
 going to faint. Barbe showed her great round 
 eyes, and fled in panic. Then, like a fool, I gave 
 the reason for my exploit. 
 
 "Why are you going to that madman's room?" 
 My words sounded artificial, broken. 
 
 "Tell me— Why? In God's name, tell me?" 
 
 I had flung myself upon her, and twisted her 
 wrists. She gave a humble moan of complaint, 
 and swayed in my grasp. 
 
 I squeezed the soft, firm flesh of her arms, as 
 
114 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 if I were throttling two doves, and bending over 
 her agonized eyes, I said. 
 
 "WeU, tell me why?" 
 
 She looked me up and down in defiance, and 
 then said: 
 
 "Well, what about it? You know perfectly 
 well that Macbeth was my lover. Lerne gave you 
 to understand that in my presence on the day of 
 your arrival." 
 
 "Is that Macbeth — that madman?" 
 
 Emma did not reply, but her astonishment in- 
 formed me that I had made another mistake in 
 showing my ignorance. 
 
 "Have I not the right to love him," she went 
 on. "Do you think you are going to prevent 
 me?" 
 
 I shook her arms as if they were bell-ropes. 
 
 "Do you still love him?" 
 
 "More than ever — do you understand?" 
 
 "But he is a brute beast." 
 
 "There are madmen who think they are gods. 
 He sometimes imagines he is a dog. His lunacy 
 is, perhaps, therefore less grave, and after 
 all . . ." 
 
 She smiled mysteriously. One would have said 
 that she wanted to drive me wild. 
 
 Then followed a scene I dare not describe. 
 
"THE MADMAN" 115 
 
 Well, Barbe made an untimely, but fortunate 
 entrance, coughing as loudly as she could. 
 
 "Here is Monsieur coming." Emma dashed 
 from my arms. Lerne was terrorizing her once 
 more, "Off with you! Make haste," she said. 
 "If he knew, you would be done for, and I, too, 
 most likely. Oh, do go ! Go, my little duck ! 
 Lerne sticks at nothing." 
 
 I felt she was speaking the truth, for her dear 
 cold hands were shivering in mine, and her mouth 
 was stuttering with terror. 
 
 Still under the excitement of an imbecile happi- 
 ness, which increased my strength and agility ten- 
 fold, I climbed the trellis, hand over fist, and 
 jumped down on the other side of the wall. 
 
 I found my car in its garage of greenery. I 
 piled in my parcels as fast as I could. I was 
 ridiculously happy. Emma should be mine, and 
 what a mistress she would make ! — a woman who 
 had not recoiled before the duty of bringing to a 
 friend, now become a repulsive thing, the consola- 
 tion of her visits. 
 
 But now it was I who was favored, I was sure 
 of that. How could that Macbeth love her? 
 Nonsense! She had lied to me merely to rouse 
 my passions. She merely had pity on him. 
 
 But now, when I came to think of it, how had 
 madness come upon the Scot, and why was Lerne 
 
ii6 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 keeping it secret? My uncle maintained that 
 Macbeth had gone away. Then why did he keep 
 poor Nell in prison? I understood her sorrow at 
 the window, and her rancor against the Profes- 
 sor, Some drama had taken place in her prison, 
 in which Lerne, Emma and Macbeth were the per- 
 sonages — a drama which was the result of some 
 grievous fault, indeed, no doubt; but what was the 
 drama? I should soon find out. A woman has 
 no secrets from her lover, and that is what I was 
 going to be. 
 
 My joy generally manifests itself in the form of 
 a song. If I remember rightly, I hummed the air 
 of a Spanish dance as I went along, and I only 
 interrupted it suddenly because the remembrance 
 of the old shoe, now full of sinister meaning in- 
 truded on my reflections, as the Red Death rises 
 menacing in the midst of a ball. 
 
 Instantly my cheerfulness drooped. The sun 
 went down in the depth of my thoughts. All 
 things became dark, suspicious and threatening. 
 There was a great revulsion within me, the most 
 dreadful guesses appeared certainties and even the 
 image of Emma faded away. 
 
 A prey to the terrors of the unknown, I re- 
 entered that dungeon-castle and that garden- 
 tomb, where the beautiful Demon awaited me, 
 standing between a madman and a corpse. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 NELL THE ST. BERNARD 
 
 Some days passed without any event which 
 could satisfy either my love or my curiosity. Had 
 Lerne grown suspicious of me, and contrived to 
 have all my time taken up? 
 
 In the morning, he would invite me to accom- 
 pany him — one day on foot, and another in the 
 motor-car. During those outings we would talk 
 at random of scientific matters, and he would 
 question me as if he really wished to judge of my 
 capabilities. 
 
 With the motor-car we used to cover much 
 ground. In our walks, my uncle usually took the 
 road which led straight to Grey. He would often 
 stop, the better to hold forth, and never went be- 
 yond the skirts of the wood. Often in the midst 
 of a dissertation or a jest, after we had started 
 walking or driving, Lerne would suddenly go back, 
 distrusting the people he had left at Fonval. 
 
 He also organized my afternoons for me; 
 sometimes I was charged with a message for the 
 town or the village, sometimes forced to go off by 
 myself on some errand. I had either to fill up my 
 
 117 
 
ii8 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 tank without question, or put on my walking 
 boots. 
 
 Lerne always watched me go, and at nightfall, 
 standing on his doorstep, he exacted from me an 
 account of my day. As the case might be, I had 
 either to give a report of what I had done, or 
 describe places. 
 
 Now, my uncle was not, as a rule, familiar with 
 places, it is true, but I could not tell which ones, 
 and so any made-up story would have been danger- 
 ous. I therefore conscientiously explored the 
 forest and the country-side from dawn to dusk. 
 
 And yet, I should have liked to go to Emma's 
 room. I had calculated its place in the topog- 
 raphy of the castle by the number of windows 
 which were, or were not shut, and I knew them 
 all thoroughly. 
 
 The whole left wing always remained closed. 
 In the right wing, the ground floor, and, of the six 
 bedrooms above, only three remained open for 
 daily use. Mine was in the projecting part of the 
 building, and, at the other end, the room of my 
 Aunt Lidivine opened on the central corridor, and 
 communicated with Lerne's, so that Emma must 
 have succeeded my aunt in my aunt's own bed. 
 The very thought of it maddened me, and I 
 waited impatiently for the opportunity I sought. 
 
 But the Professor was keeping watch ! 
 
 Under his pitiless tyranny, I saw Mile. Bour- 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 119 
 
 dichet only at meal-times. We both put on a de- 
 tached air. I now ventured to look at her, but 
 I did not dare to speak to her. She persisted in 
 a most absolute silence, so much so, that, in ab- 
 sence of conversation, I had to judge of her na- 
 ture by her bearing, but I must admit that, how- 
 ever gross may be the human functions of feeding 
 oneself on dead beasts and withered plants, there 
 are two methods of eating. This lady thought 
 nothing of taking the chicken bone, or cutlet bone 
 in her fingers, and every time she gave herself up 
 to this pleasure, I fancied I should hear her say, 
 "My little duck," in her plebeian voice. 
 
 Between Emma and me, Lerne fidgeted about. 
 He crumbled the bread, and dallied with his fork, 
 and suppressed anger would make him bring down 
 his fist on the cloth till the cups and glasses 
 rattled. 
 
 One day, by mischance, my foot knocked against 
 him. The Doctor suspected this innocent foot of 
 light behavior. He attributed to it telegraphic 
 intentions, and, persuaded that it had communi- 
 cated through its toe some pedestrian and stealthy 
 love-sign, he decreed at once that Mile. Bourdichet 
 was feeling unwell, and would thenceforth take her 
 meals in her own room. 
 
 So two passions occupied my thoughts — hatred 
 of Lerne, and love of Emma, and I resolved on 
 the most audacious plans to satisfy them both. It 
 
120 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 so happened that on that very day, my uncle said 
 to me suddenly that he wanted to take me In the 
 car to Nanthel, where he had business. I fancied 
 I saw a chance of escape from his vigilance. 
 
 The next day was a Sunday, and Grey was cele- 
 brating the Feast of its Patron Saint. I should 
 know how to profit by that ! 
 
 "With pleasure. Uncle," I said. "We shaU 
 start in the car, barring accidents." 
 
 "I should prefer to go in the car to Grey, and 
 then take the train to Nanthel. That will be the 
 surest way." 
 
 That suited my book admirably. 
 
 "Very well, uncle." 
 
 "The train starts from Grey at 8 o'clock. We 
 shall come back by the 5.13. There is none be- 
 fore that." 
 
 On arriving at the village, we heard a noise of 
 bustle, with, every now and again, the lowing of 
 cattle. A horse neighed, and some sheep were 
 bleating. 
 
 I had some difficulty in making my way across 
 the Square of Grey-ri\.bbaye, which had now 
 been turned into a Fair, and was swarming with a 
 good-tempered and slow-moving crowd. 
 
 In the spaces between the shooting galleries, and 
 other shabby booths, they had inclosed the cattle 
 which were for sale. Rough hands were calcu- 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 121 
 
 latlng the weight of udders, were opening jaws by 
 which a beast's age can be read, slipping their 
 hands along their muscles to judge of their condi- 
 tion, and so on. 
 
 The horse dealers were talking big, and between 
 two rows of patient peasants, grooms were trot- 
 ting about heavy cart-horses, and riding-whips 
 were cracking all round. 
 
 The first man drunk that day, stumbled up, ad- 
 dressing me as "Citizen." 
 
 We went straight on in the semi-silence of this 
 Ardennes Market. The village inn was already 
 full of people, singing, and not yet fighting. The 
 church-bells were ringing their chimes of warning, 
 and in the center of the Square, a little white build- 
 ing, decorated with greenery, showed that the Mu- 
 nicipal Band would soon be adding its very simple 
 strains to the hubbub of the fete. 
 
 When we got to the station (this was the mo- 
 ment I had chosen to act), I said: 
 
 "Uncle, shall I accompany you in your rounds 
 at Nanthel?" 
 
 "Certainly not. Why?" 
 
 "Well, Uncle, in my dislike for cafes, taverns 
 and public-houses, I shall ask you to leave me here, 
 where I shall wait for you just as easily as in the 
 shop In Nanthel." 
 
 My uncle replied: 
 
 "But, you are not obliged . . ." 
 
122 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 "To begin with, I find the Grey Festival attracts 
 me. I should like to watch the crowds a little 
 longer. On such a day one gets the liveliest im- 
 pressions of the manners of a people, and I feel, 
 to-day, that I have the soul of an ethnologist." 
 
 My uncle said, "You are joking, or else it is a 
 mere whim." 
 
 "In the second place, Uncle, whom could I trust 
 v/ith my car? The inn-keeper? The drunken 
 tenant of a hovel full of clodhoppers in their cups? 
 You surely do not imagine that I am going to leave 
 a car worth twenty-five thousand francs, exposed 
 for nine hours by the clock, to the tricks of a 
 village on the spree! No, no, I prefer to watch 
 my car myself." 
 
 My uncle was not convinced of my sincerity. 
 He wished to checkmate the little trick which I 
 might be planning of going back to Fonval, either 
 in my motor-car, or on a borrowed bicycle, with 
 the intention of coming back to Grey in time for 
 the 5.15 — and that was just exactly the plan which 
 I had thought of. The accursed savant nearly 
 upset everything. 
 
 "You are right," said he coldly, and he set his 
 foot on the ground, and amid the crowd of holiday 
 travelers in their Sunday best, raised the bonnet of 
 the car, and looked at the engine minutely. I felt 
 quite uncomfortable. 
 
 My uncle took out his knife — took the carbu- 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 123 
 
 retor, and slipped some of the pieces into his 
 pocket, and addressed me thus: 
 
 "There is your car, brought to a standstill," 
 said he, "but as you might make off in another 
 way, I am going to give you something to do. On 
 my return, you must show me the carburetor, com- 
 pletely restored, and fitted up with pieces of your 
 own make. The blacksmith has not yet shut up 
 his forge — he will lend you an anvil and vise ; but 
 he is a fool, and quite unable to help you. There 
 will be enough there to keep you amused until 
 
 S.14." 
 
 Perceiving that I did not seem to mind, he went 
 on in a constrained tone : 
 
 "I must ask your pardon. Please do not doubt 
 that, all this is only to assure your future by pro- 
 tecting the secret of our work. Good-by." 
 
 The train carried him off. 
 
 I had let him talk without showing any signs of 
 annoyance; and indeed, without feeling any, for, 
 being but a poor chauffeur, detesting grease and 
 scars on my hands, and obliged by my uncle's will 
 to do without a mechanic, I had brought with me, 
 in the boot of my car, several spare pieces, 
 amongst which, was a complete carburetor, ready 
 to be put in its place. Ignorance stood me in bet- 
 ter stead than professional skill, so I set to work 
 at once, being in no wise disturbed, and merely 
 
124 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 anxious about the inmates of Fonval left to their 
 own devices. 
 
 Presently, having garaged my car in a clump of 
 trees, I climbed over the park wall, and I should 
 have climbed straight to Emma's room, if a melan- 
 choly barking had not sounded in the direction of 
 the gray buildings. 
 
 "The laboratory! Nell!" This curious fact 
 of a dog being chained up in a laboratory made me 
 hesitate between the attractiveness of the mystery, 
 and that of Emma ; but this time, a sort of instinct 
 of self-preservation aroused by the unknown, and 
 the danger one attributes to it, was bound to carry 
 the day. 
 
 I made my way towards the gray buildings. Be- 
 sides, the Germans would no doubt be there, and 
 their presence would prevent me from dawdling. 
 So it was merely a matter of snatching a few min- 
 utes from love-making. 
 
 As I passed the Yellow Room, I put my ear to 
 the shutters in order to assure myself that Mac- 
 beth was alone. He was so, a circumstance which 
 filled my heart with a vast satisfaction. 
 
 Some white clouds were floating in a cold sky. 
 The wind was coming from Grey-l'Abbaye, and 
 brought me through the gorge the monotonous 
 sound of the church bells. Endlessly they repeated 
 the same three notes, thus performing the chime 
 of the Arlesienne. I was gay ! To this sacred 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 125 
 
 accompaniment I whistled the melody played by 
 the orchestra, and the juxtaposition of the two was 
 like placing a modern statuette on a Gothic 
 pedestal. 
 
 In front of the laboratory, on the other side of 
 the road, there was a wood. I made tacks to 
 reach it, having formed my plan of assault. In 
 the middle of this wood, I used to possess an old 
 friend — a fir tree. Its projecting branches formed 
 a spiral staircase. It completely dominated the 
 buildings. No laboratory could have been better 
 placed, or more accessible, and in the old days I 
 used to play there at being a sailor on the yard- 
 arms. 
 
 The tree offered me a perch, rather short, no 
 doubt, but still, well padded. On the upper 
 branches, a relic awaited me, made of cords and 
 rotten planks — the cross-trees ! Who would have 
 said that one day I, who used to spy out conti- 
 nents, archipelagoes — phantasies with some like- 
 lihood about them — should now be there as a spy 
 for things so fabulously unreal? My glances 
 turned towards the ground. 
 
 As I have said, the laboratory was composed of 
 a court-yard between two blocks of buildings. The 
 one on the left was pierced with large bay windows 
 on its one story, and on its ground floor. It 
 seemed to me to be merely two large rooms — one 
 above the other. I only saw the higher one, 
 
126 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 which was elaborately equipped — an apothecary's 
 cupboard, marble tables covered with bulbs, bottles 
 and retorts, cases (open), sets of polished instru- 
 ments, and two indescribable pieces of apparatus 
 of glass and nickel, which recalled nothing 
 analogous, except, perhaps, vaguely, the round 
 globes screwed to a stand on which cafe waiters 
 lay their napkins. 
 
 The other block which was beyond my range, 
 looked from the outside like an ordinary dwelling- 
 house, and was evidently the place where the two 
 assistants lodged. 
 
 But, what I had taken for a farmyard on the 
 day of my arrival, took up all my attention. 
 
 What a miserable farmyard! Its walls were 
 fitted with wire-netted compartments of various 
 sizes, which rose, piled on one another, to an im- 
 mense height. 
 
 In these lodges, each duly labeled, rabbits, 
 guinea-pigs, rats, cats and other animals which I 
 could not distinguish because of the distance, 
 moved about painfully, or remained lying, half- 
 hidden under the straw. 
 
 Some litter, however, was jumping about, but 
 I could not perceive the cause. A nest of mice, I 
 presumed. 
 
 The last cage on the right served as a hen- 
 house. Contrary to custom, they had locked up 
 the poultry in it. 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 127 
 
 Everything looked mute and melancholy. Four 
 hens and a cock, of rare breed, were carrying on 
 a more cheerful kind of life, and strutted about 
 cackling on the concrete floor, pecking at it per- 
 sistently, in the vain hope of discovering corn or 
 worms. 
 
 In the middle of the yard there was a large 
 hollow square of gratings. These were the 
 kennels. 
 
 Between the two rows of compartments, like 
 philosophers that were both Cynics and Peripate- 
 tics, dogs, with a resigned look, walked up and 
 down — ordinary terriers, butcher's lurchers, 
 watch-dogs, bull-terriers, a ruffianly bulldog and 
 mongrel bloodhounds — in fact, a whole pack of 
 coarse, good-for-nothing-but-fidelity beasts. 
 
 They were roaming up and down, and gave this 
 courtyard the appearance of the yard of a vet- 
 erinary hospital. And this Is where things took 
 on a somber coloring. Of all those beasts very 
 few seemed healthy. Most of them were wearing 
 bandages — on the back, round the neck, on the 
 back of the head, and more especially round the 
 head. One hardly saw any of them through the 
 grating, which did not wear a piece of white 
 linen rolled up into a cap, hood or turban, and this 
 procession of sorrowful dogs, with their absurd 
 headdresses of linen bandages, and each with a 
 
128 NEW BODIES FOR OLD. 
 
 label attached to its neck, was a most funereal 
 sight to see. 
 
 Most of those poor wretches were smitten with 
 some infirmity. One would fall on his muzzle at 
 almost every step; another was limping; the head 
 of a third was shaking and quivering like that of a 
 palsied old man. A mastiff stumbled about, 
 whining without apparent reason, and suddenly it 
 would utter a loud death-like howl. 
 
 Nell was not there ! 
 
 I perceived in a shady corner an aviary — silent 
 and with no bird trying its flight. As far as I 
 could make out, the occupants belonged to the 
 commoner families of birds, and there were 
 sparrows in great numbers. The greater portion 
 of them, however, were a white-headed species, 
 but I did not know enough of ornithology to 
 recognize them from such a height. 
 
 The smell of carbolic came up to me. 
 
 Oh, for the scents of the farmyard, the cooing 
 of pigeons on the moss-clad roofs, the cock's 
 cock-a-doodle-doo, the yelp of the dog tugging at 
 its chain, the squadrons of geese with outspread 
 wings ! I kept thinking of you, in the -presence 
 of this lazar-house ! 
 
 A sad farmyard, indeed, with its severe 
 arrangement, and its patients ticketed like the 
 plants in a hothouse. 
 
 Suddenly there was a bustling. The dogs went 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 129 
 
 back to their kennels, and the poultry took refuge 
 under a trough. Nothing budged again. The 
 aviary and the cages seemed to contain nothing 
 but stuffed beasts. 
 
 Karl, the German, with his Kaiser-like mus- 
 taches, had come out of the building on the left. 
 He opened one of the compartments, thrust out 
 his hand towards a ball of hair which was curled 
 up in it, and drew out a monkey. 
 
 The animal, which was a chimpanzee, strug- 
 gled. The assistant dragged it off, and dis- 
 appeared with It by the way he had come. The 
 mastiff gave a long howl. 
 
 Then began a bustling in the apparatus-room, 
 and I saw that the three assistants had just come 
 in. They stretched out the gagged monkey on 
 the table, and fastened It solidly down; William 
 thrust something under its nose. 
 
 Karl, with a morphia syringe, pricked the 
 chimpanzee's flank, then the tall old man, Johann, 
 approached. He put his golden spectacles 
 straight, with a hand which held a knife, and bent 
 over the patient. 
 
 I cannot explain the operation so rapid was it, 
 but In less than no time, the face of the chim- 
 panzee was nothing but a hideous blur of red. 
 
 I turned away, sickened with a sense of dis- 
 comfort — a discomfort caused by seeing blood. 
 At last I turned my face back again. It was too 
 
130 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 late; the sun was striking on the windows, and I 
 could not see for the dazzle; but in the court- 
 yard, the dogs had left their boxes, and amongst 
 them now Donovan Macbeth's dog Nell was 
 prowling about. 
 
 She was coughing. Her hairless skin no longer 
 suggested the fine coat of a St. Bernard. The 
 superb creature was nothing but a great carcass, 
 whose leanness contrasted with the comparative 
 plump shapes of her companions. 
 
 Nell, too, wore a bandage on the back of her 
 neck. What had Lerne devised to make her 
 suffer since the night of their adventure? What 
 diabolical invention was he trying upon her? 
 
 Nell seemed to be reflecting; her very manner 
 of walking suggested consternation. She held 
 aloof from the other dogs, and when a certain 
 bulldog accosted her in the way of gallantry, she 
 started back with a look so fierce, and a hoarse 
 cry so terrible, that the other hurried off to the 
 depths of its lair, whilst the rest of the pack, put 
 out of countenance, raised their bedizened heads. 
 
 The coy Nell went her way. 
 
 What was I doing, remaining there ! In spite 
 of my haste to shorten this reconnaissance, and 
 betake myself to other pastimes, something held 
 me back — something inexplicable in the behavior 
 of this poor dog. 
 
 At this moment, a "quick-step" played by the 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 131 
 
 band at Grey-rAbbaye, reached Fonval on the 
 
 wings of the wind. My fingers, of their own 
 accord, beat time on the branches of my observa- 
 tion post, and I perceived that Nell had quickened 
 
 her walk and was marching in time to the rh)^hm 
 of the music ! 
 
 I then remembered that, in talking of Nell, 
 Emma had alluded to her performing-dog tricks. 
 Was this a circus exercise taught by Macbeth to 
 his St. Bernard? It did not seem to me that 
 in the absence of the trainer such a dance could 
 have been e?-:ecuted, and that an auditory sensa- 
 tion could arouse, in the case of an animal, those 
 mechanical movements which have always been 
 our prerogative, and are the result of habits more 
 complex than those of instincts. 
 
 The music died away as the wind fell. The 
 dog sat down, raised her eyes, and saw me. 
 
 "Good Heavens, she is going to bark and 
 give the alarm . . . I" Not at all. She looked 
 at me without fear or wrath — with eyes, the 
 memon' of which will always be with me — then 
 shaking her great shaggy- head, she began to groan 
 gently, making a vague gesture with her paw, then 
 she resumed her round, still murmuring, and cast- 
 ing furtive glances in my direction, as if she de- 
 sired to make herself understood without drawing 
 the attention of the Germans. 
 
 (This, of course, is a mere descriptive phrase, 
 
132 NEW BODIES FOR OLD. 
 
 but one might, all the same, have imagined that 
 the creature wanted to speak, so human were the 
 inflections of her moans, which roughly formed a 
 long, gutteral and monotonous phrase, in which 
 there always occurred the syllables, "Mabet, 
 Mabet." The whole thing made a gurgling sound, 
 rather like English words badly articulated.) 
 
 The entry on the scene of the three assistants 
 put a stop to this curious phenomenon. 
 
 They crossed the courtyard, and all the dogs — 
 Nell at the head — slunk to shelter. Wilhelm, as 
 he passed, flung over the grating of the kennel a 
 chunk of meat — the body of the monkey, skinned, 
 the hairy part hanging attached. 
 
 It fell heavily. It was dead ! 
 
 The Germans then went into the building on 
 the right, whose chimney was smoking. Then, 
 one by one, the dogs came and sniffed at the re- 
 mains of the chimpanzee. The bulldog gave the 
 first bite, and then came the whole pack, growling 
 ferociously. 
 
 The muzzles of the lame ones were soon dyed 
 red, as their gnashing teeth tore to bits this piti- 
 ful caricature of a child's body. Nell, only, in 
 front of her kennel, with her paws crossed, dis- 
 dained the feast, and looked at me with her 
 beautiful eyes. I fancied I had discovered why 
 she was so thin. 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 133 
 
 Upon this, a window opened, through which I 
 perceived a table set for three. The assistants 
 were going to lunch in front of my wood. It was 
 time for me to withdraw. 
 
 Here I committed an unpardonable piece of 
 folly, I ought to have set out on my campaign 
 against the old shoe — that was elementary. It 
 appeared to me, wrongly, that I had made a 
 supreme concession to prudence — that an elastic 
 boot has many titles to be considered merely an 
 elastic boot, and not a buried man — not even a 
 buried body; and that, to a generous heart a 
 pretty girl is more important than all knickknacks. 
 
 I reviewed all these reasons, with the result 
 that I turned towards the chateau. 
 
 The bedroom of my Aunt Lidivine now served 
 as a lumber-room. One would have said it was 
 the wardrobe of a lady of fortune. Several wicker 
 lay-figures covered with extremely elegant toi- 
 lettes, formed a crowd of armless and headless 
 coquettes. The mantelpiece and tables were like 
 a dressmaker's show-cases, where feathers and 
 ribbons go to make up those tiny or huge con- 
 traptions, which only become pretty hats once they 
 are on the head. A battalion of dress shoes were 
 fitted on their trees, and a thousand feminine 
 trifles were heaped up everywhere, in the midst of 
 
134 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 a delicate and suggestive aroma, which was the 
 one Emma loved. 
 
 Poor dear Aunt ! I should have preferred your 
 room to have been still further profaned, and that 
 Mile. Bourdichet had made it hers, rather than to 
 hear laughter in the next one — that of your hus- 
 band; for this left one no illusions. 
 
 On my appearance, Emma and Barbe seemed 
 stupefied. The girl immediately understood, and 
 began to laugh. She was lunching in bed, and 
 with a turn of the wrist, she twisted her flaming 
 Bacchante hair into a knot. 
 
 I saw the outline of her arm through the sleeve, 
 and she did not think of closing her nightdress. 
 
 A table covered with bottles and brushes had 
 been pushed against the bed. 
 
 Barbe, who was serving her mistress, cut huge 
 slices out of a ham. My first thought was that 
 Barbe would be much in my way. 
 
 "And what about Lerne?" said Emma. 
 
 I reassured her. He would only come back at 
 5 o'clock. I guaranteed that. She gave that 
 little cheerful cluck, which is the sob of joy. 
 
 Barbe, who was obviously devoted to her, got 
 so uproariously delighted that her whole person 
 took part in the festival. 
 
 It was half past twelve. We had four hours 
 before us. I suggested that that was rather short, 
 
NELL— THE ST. BERNARD 135 
 
 but "Let us have lunch, will you, dearie?" said 
 she. 
 
 I had nothing better to do for the moment, 
 because of Barbe, and I sat down face to face with 
 her. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 
 
 "Well, my dear," she said, "now that we have 
 got as far as that, it is no use trying not to begin 
 again, but I entreat you, no imprudences — safety 
 first ! Lerne, you know, Lerne ! Ah, you don't 
 know what dangers there are for you — you above 
 all — you especially!" 
 
 I saw that she was brooding over the memory 
 of tragic scenes. 
 
 "But what are the dangers?" 
 
 "That is just the worst of it, I do not know. 
 I do not understand anything that is happening 
 around. Anything! Anything! Except that 
 Donovan Macbeth went mad because I loved him, . 
 
 — and I love you, too." | 
 
 "Come, Emma, let us be cool. We are allies | 
 
 now. Between us we shall find out the truth. 
 When did you come to Fonval, and what has hap- 
 pened since?" 
 
 And then she told me her adventures. I repro- 
 duce them, stringing them together as best I can, 
 to make them clearer, but as a matter of fact, her 
 story was spread over a dialogue in which my 
 
 136 
 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 137 
 
 questions guided the story-teller, who was ever 
 ready to make digressions, and was loquacious in 
 futilities. 
 
 Sometimes as we talked, a noise would interrupt 
 our talk. Emma would sit up in terror of Lerne, 
 and I could not prevent myself shivering, at the 
 sight of her fear, for had there been an eye or 
 an ear at the keyhole, the somber story would 
 have been repeated in my case. 
 
 One way or another, I learned from Emma her 
 origin and her early life. It has nothing to do 
 with my story, and might easily be summed up 
 in the phrase "How a foundling became a 
 courtesan !" 
 
 Emma showed, during this confession, a sin- 
 cerity which would have been called cynicism in 
 the case of any one less candid. 
 
 With the same frankness, she went on: 
 
 "I got to know Lerne years ago. I was fifteen, 
 and at the hospital at Nanthel. I had entered 
 his service as a nurse? No! I had had a fight 
 with my friend Leonie about Alcide, who was my 
 man. Well, I am not ashamed of it! He is 
 superb! He is a Colossus! My dear boy, he 
 could chuck you about like a ball. My belt was 
 too narrow a bracelet for him ! 
 
 "Well, I got a blow with a knife — a nasty one, 
 too. Just look!" 
 
 She flung off the coverlet, and showed me, near 
 
138 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 her shoulder, a livid triangular scar — the handi- 
 work of the execrable Leonie. 
 
 "Yes, you may well kiss it," she went on. "I 
 nearly died of it. Your uncle looked after me, 
 and saved me. I may well say that. 
 
 "At that time, your uncle was a fine fellow — 
 not stuck-up. He often spoke to me. I thought 
 that flattering. The head surgeon ! Think of 
 that ! And he talked so well, too. He gave me 
 long sermons, just as fine as any in Church, about 
 my life: it was bad, I ought to change it, and so 
 on, and so forth. And all this without having the 
 least appearance of being disgusted with me, and 
 so sincerely that I for my part, began to be dis- 
 gusted with it myself, and not to wish for any 
 m.ore of the gay life, or any more Alcide. Illness, 
 you know, that cools one's blood; and Lerne said 
 to me one fine day, 'You are cured now, and can 
 go away when you like, only it is not enough to 
 have taken a good resolution — you must keep it. 
 Will you come to my house? You shall be the 
 laundry-maid, and you will earn your living far 
 from your old companions, and all on the square, 
 too,' he said. 
 
 "All this puzzled me. I said to myself, 'Oh, 
 talk away. That is only a pretty speech to fool 
 me. One does not offer to keep a woman for the 
 love of art.' 
 
 "But all the same, Lerne's kindness, his rank, 
 
 II 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 139 
 
 his fame, and a certain kind of niceness in him, 
 made me more grateful, and made it into a sort 
 of affection, do you see, and I accepted his pro- 
 posal, and all that might follow. 
 
 "Well, would you believe it! Not at all! 
 There still was a saint on earth, and that was he. 
 For a whole year he kept away from me. 
 
 "I had kept my journey secret, for the idea of 
 Alcide finding me again kept me from sleeping. 
 
 " 'Oh, do not be afraid,' said Lerne, 'I am no 
 longer the hospital surgeon, I am going to work 
 at research. We are going to live in the country, 
 and nobody will come to seek you there.' 
 
 "So that is how I was brought here. 
 
 "Ah, you should have seen the chateau and the 
 park, gardens, servants, carriages, and horses — 
 nothing wanting! I was quite happy. 
 
 "When we got here, the workmen were finish- 
 ing off the additions to the conservatory and the 
 laboratory. 
 
 "Lerne kept an eye on their work. He was 
 always joking, and repeating, 'Ah, we are going 
 to work there, we are going to work there,' in the 
 same sort of a tone in which schoolboys shout 
 out, 'Hurrah for the holidays !' 
 
 "They fitted up the laboratory. Lots of boxes 
 were put in it, and when all was finished, Lerne 
 set off one morning to Grey in the dog-cart. The 
 avenue was still straight at that time. 
 
140 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 "I still see your uncle coming back with the 
 five travelers and the dog which he had gone to 
 get at the station — Donovan Macbeth, Johann, 
 Wilhelm, Karl, Otto Klotz — you remember him — 
 the tall dark fellow with the mustache? — and 
 Nell. The Scot had joined the Germans at 
 Nanthel, I think he must have known them 
 before. 
 
 "The assistants put up at the laboratory, and 
 Macbeth slept in a bedroom in the chateau — Dr. 
 Klotz also. 
 
 "Klotz frightened me from the first, and yet 
 he was a strong, handsome chap. 
 
 "I could not help asking Lerne where he had 
 picked up that jail-bird! My question amused 
 him very much. 
 
 " 'Oh, make your mind easy,' he answered. 
 'You are always imagining you see friends of M. 
 Alcide. Professor Klotz has come from Ger- 
 many. He Is very learned. He is not an assist- 
 ant, he is a collaborator, and will watch over the 
 work of his three compatriots.' " 
 
 "Excuse me, Emma," I said. Interrupting her, 
 "did my uncle speak German and English at that 
 time?" 
 
 "Not much, I think. He tried every day, but 
 it was not much good. It was only at the end of 
 a year, and all of a sudden, that he managed to 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 141 
 
 speak, it fluently. The assistants knew a few 
 French words, and Klotz rather more, as well as 
 a little English. 
 
 "As for Macbeth, he only understood his own 
 language. 
 
 "Lerne told me that he had agreed to take him 
 at Fonval because the young man's father asked 
 him; he wanted his son to work for a time under 
 Lerne's directions. 
 
 "Where was your room, Emma?" 
 
 "Near the laboratory. Oh, far away from 
 Macbeth and Klotz !" she added with a smile. 
 
 "How did all those men stand towards one 
 another?" 
 
 "They seemed good friends, but I do not know 
 if they were really. I fancy that the four Ger- 
 mans were jealous of Macbeth. I saw nasty looks 
 sometimes, but in any case, they can't have hurt 
 Donovan much, because his job was not in the 
 laboratory, but in the chateau and the conserva- 
 tory. 
 
 "His work at first was to swat up French from 
 books. We used to meet often, because I was 
 always coming and going in the house. He was 
 always polite and respectful, to judge by the signs 
 he made, of course, and I was obliged to be 
 amiable, too. 
 
 "Those little bits of politeness, I am afraid, 
 made him and Klotz hate each other; I soon saw 
 
142 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 that, but they both managed to hide their disHke 
 wonderfully. 
 
 "Nell could not hide hers, and never missed a 
 chance of growling at the German, and that was, 
 to my thinking, only the smallest sign that a row 
 was likely, but your uncle — he saw nothing, and I 
 did not want to bother him with my complaints. 
 I did not dare to do so, and on the other hand, 
 I thought it rather good fun to make them jealous. 
 
 "All m.y promises to Lerne to be good could 
 not stop me from being amused at the jealousy of 
 those two, and I do not know what would have 
 been the end of it, when everything changed all 
 of a sudden. 
 
 "We had been here a year—that is four years 
 ago now." 
 
 "Ah, ha!" I cried. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Nothing, nothing!" 
 
 "Well, it is four years ago that Donovan Mac- 
 beth went off to Scotland for a few weeks' holiday 
 with his people. The day after he had gone, 
 Lerne left me in the morning. 'I am going,' said 
 he, 'to Nanthel with Klotz. We shall stay there 
 a whole day.' 
 
 "At night Klotz came back alone. I inquired 
 about Lerne, and he told me that the Professor 
 had heard important news and had to go abroad, 
 and that he would be away for about three weeks. 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 143 
 
 *' 'Where is he?' I asked again. 
 
 "Klotz hesitated, and at last said, 'He is in 
 Germany. We shall be by ourselves for that time, 
 Emma.' 
 
 "He had put his arm round my waist, and was 
 looking into my eyes. 
 
 "I could not understand how Lerne could do 
 such a thing — to leave me without warning at the 
 mercy of a stranger. 
 
 " 'How do you like me?' asked Klotz, pressing 
 me against him. 
 
 "I have already told you, Nicolas, that he was 
 big and strong. I felt his muscles tighten like 
 a vise. 
 
 " 'Well, Emma,' he went on, 'you are going to 
 love me to-day, for you will never see me again.' 
 
 "I am not a coward. Between you and me, I 
 have been caressed by hands which had just com- 
 mitted murder. I have been made love to in ways 
 that were like murder. My first lover would have 
 stuck a knife into you as soon as look at you. But 
 Klotz was too awful. I shall never forget how 
 frightened I was. 
 
 "I woke up late in the morning. He was gone. 
 I have never seen him again. 
 
 "Three weeks passed. Your uncle never wrote ; 
 he stayed away longer still. 
 
 "He came back without notice. I did not even 
 see him come in. He told me that he had made 
 
144 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 straight for the laboratory as soon as he got back. 
 I saw him come out about mid-day. I was quite 
 sorry for him, he looked so pale. He was bent 
 double as if he were worried to death. He was 
 walking slowly, as if he were following a hearse. 
 
 "What had he been told ! What had he done ! 
 What trouble was he in? 
 
 "I asked him gently. He still spoke with the 
 accent of the country which he had just come from. 
 
 " 'Emma,' said he, 'I think that you love me?' 
 
 " 'You know very well that I do, my dear bene- 
 factor. I am devoted to you, body and soul.' 
 
 " 'Do you think that you can love me with real 
 love? Oh,' said he, with a snigger, 'I am no 
 longer a young man, but . . .' 
 
 "What was I to say? I did not know. Lerne 
 knitted his brows. 
 
 "He seized my two hands. His eyes were 
 terrible. 
 
 " 'Now,' cried he, 'no more joking; no more 
 little games, you are mine exclusively. I quite 
 understood what was going on here, and that there 
 were admirers hovering round you. I have got 
 rid of Klotz, and as for Donovan Macbeth, be 
 on your guard. If he does not stop, it is all up 
 with him. Look out !' 
 
 "Then, Lerne, having got rid of the servants, 
 took on this poor Barbe as his only domestic, and 
 then he arranged the labyrinth and its roads. 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 145 
 
 "On the day arranged, Macbeth, in his turn, 
 came back to the chateau, followed by his dog. 
 He was surprised to see the forest all upside down. 
 
 "Lerne went up to him while he was still hold- 
 ing his luggage in his hand, and he quite dum- 
 founded him by such a violent lecture, and so evil 
 a countenance, that Nell bristled up, put out her 
 claws and began to growl. 
 
 "What was bound to happen, happened. Con- 
 sidering the age and position of our host, Mac- 
 beth and I should probably have 'respected his 
 roof,' as they say, but it was only a question, now, 
 of deceiving an angry tyrant. And we did. 
 
 "Meanwhile, the Professor became more and 
 more absurd and irritable every day. He was 
 living in an extraordinary state of excitement, 
 never going out; working like a horse, genial, 
 perhaps, but certainly ill. 
 
 "You ask me why I think so. I will tell you. 
 
 "His memory began to fail. He used to get 
 strange fits of forgetfulness, and often asked me 
 about things concerning his own past; he remem- 
 bered nothing clearly except scientific matters. 
 
 "No more joking, that was true, and no more 
 happiness with him! 
 
 "For a mere whim, Lerne would swear at me. 
 For a suspicion^ he would beat me. Not that I 
 mind hard words or hard blows, but only from 
 some one I love. 
 
146 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 *'I declared to this worn-out old creature that I 
 had had enough solitude. 'I want to be off,' I 
 said. 
 
 "Ah, my dear, if you had seen him. He fell 
 at my knees and embraced them. 
 
 "What he said was, 'Remain, my dear Emma, 
 for two years more. Wait until then, and we will 
 go away together, and you shall have the life of 
 a queen. Have patience. I understand you are 
 not made to be in this sort of position, as if in a 
 convent. Take my word for it, I am making a 
 vast fortune for you. Two more years, living 
 like a little bourgeoisie, and then the life of an 
 empress.' 
 
 "I was dazzled at the prospect, and remained 
 at Fonval. 
 
 "But the years followed one after the other — 
 the term was up, and no luxury yet. However, 
 I waited and trusted, because Lerne was so con- 
 fident, and so clever, 
 
 " 'Do not be downhearted,' he said, 'we are 
 getting on. All shall happen as I prophesy. You 
 shall have millions,' and to cheer me up, he 
 ordered for me, from Paris, every season, gowns 
 and hats of all sorts, and many other knick- 
 knacks. 
 
 " 'Learn to wear them,' said he, 'learn your 
 part, and rehearse the future.' 
 
 "I lived three years in this way. About this 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 147 
 
 time Lerne's great voyage to America took place. 
 It lasted two months, for which time, your uncle 
 had sent Macbeth back to his family, by way of 
 a holiday. 
 
 "They came back on the same day. 
 
 "I think that the Professor and he had agreed 
 to meet at Dieppe. Lerne was gloomy and angry. 
 'You will have to wait a bit yet, Emma,' he said. 
 
 " 'What is the matter?' I said. 'Isn't it coming 
 off?' 
 
 " 'They think that my Inventions are not per- 
 fect enough; but there is nothing to be afraid of. 
 I shall find what I want yet.' 
 
 "He resumed his researches in the laboratory.'* 
 
 Once more, I interrupted Emma's narrative. 
 
 "Excuse me," I said, "did Macbeth work also 
 in the laboratory at that time?" 
 
 "Never! Lerne gave him jobs to do in the 
 hothouse, where he kept my poor friend a 
 prisoner. 
 
 "Poor Donovan, he would have done better to 
 have remained over yonder. It was for my sake 
 that he came back from Scotland, and he tried to 
 make me understand that in his jargon. 
 
 " 'For you, for you,' was all he could manage 
 to say. 
 
 "For me ! Good heavens, what had he become 
 'for me' a few weeks later I 
 
148 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 "Now listen ! Here is where the madness comes 
 in. 
 
 "That winter it was snowing. Lerne was taking 
 a nap in the armchair in the little drawing-room — 
 at least he was pretending to have a nap, 
 
 "Donovan gave me a glance. Pretending to 
 go out to have a walk in the snow, which was 
 falling, he went out by the hall. I heard him 
 whistling a tune outside. He moved away. I 
 went back to the dining-room to help the maid 
 clear the table. Donovan joined me there, by the 
 door opposite to that of the little drawing-room 
 which we left open so that we could hear Lerne's 
 movem.ents. 
 
 "He flung his arms round me. I embraced him. 
 We had a silent kiss. 
 
 "Suddenly Donovan went green. I followed 
 his looks. The door of the little drawing-room 
 has a glass panel, and in that dim mirror, I saw 
 Lerne's eyes watching us. 
 
 "Then he was upon us. My knees gave under 
 me. Macbeth is a little man. Lerne flung him 
 to the ground. They struggle. Blood flows. 
 Your uncle uses his feet and teeth and nails 
 ferociously. 
 
 "I scream and tear at his clothes. Suddenly he 
 picks himself up. Macbeth is in a faint, and then, 
 Lerne gives a wild laugh, flings him over his 
 shoulder, and carries him off to the laboratory. 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 149 
 
 "I keep shouting, and then I had a sudden Idea. 
 
 '"Nell, Nell!' I cried. 
 
 "The dog came up. I pointed out the group to 
 her, and she dashed off at the moment when Lerne 
 was disappearing behind the trees with his burden. 
 She disappeared also. 
 
 "I listen. She barks, and suddenly I can dis- 
 tinguish nothing more than the rustle of the snow. 
 
 "Lerne dragged me about by the hair. It re- 
 quired all my belief in his promise, and all his 
 assurance of a glorious future, to stop me from 
 running away that very day. 
 
 "But, having caught me deceiving him, he only 
 loved me the more ardently. 
 
 "Days passed. I hardly dared hope that Mac- 
 beth had got off as easily as Klotz — and been sent 
 away. Neither he nor his dog appeared again. 
 
 "At last the Professor ordered me to get ready 
 the Yellow Room for the Scot. 
 
 " 'Is he alive, then?' I asked without reflection. 
 
 " 'Only half,' said Lerne, 'he is mad. This is 
 the sad result of your folly, Emma. First of all 
 he thought himself God Almighty, then the Tower 
 of London. At 'present he thinks he's a dog. 
 To-morrow he will suffer from some other 
 delusion, no doubt.' 
 
 " 'What have you done to him?' I cried out. 
 
 " 'Little girl,' said the Professor, 'nothing has 
 
^150 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 been done to him, just you remember that, and 
 bite your tongue if you ever think of gossiping. 
 When I carried off Macbeth after our struggle in 
 the dining-room, it was so that I might look after 
 him. You saw he fainted. He injured his head 
 badly in his fall. That caused a lesion, and then 
 madness. That was all, you understand?' 
 
 "I said nothing more, because I was certain that 
 if your uncle had not put an end to Donovan, his 
 only motive was fear of the family, and the law. 
 
 "That evening they brought him back to the 
 chateau — his head all wrapped in bandages. He 
 did not recognize me. 
 
 "I still loved him, and I visited him secretly. 
 
 "He got better quickly. Being shut up made 
 him put on fat. The Macbeth of the photograph, 
 and the Macbeth of the Yellow Room, became 
 very unlike each other, so much so, that you did 
 not recognize him at first." 
 
 "But tell me — you do not know anything about 
 Klotz? What did my uncle do with him? You 
 said a moment ago he had been sent away." 
 
 "I was always certain he had been sent away. 
 His behavior when he left, and that of Lerne 
 when he came back from Germany, made me feel 
 sure of it." 
 
 "Has he a family?" 
 
 "I think he is an orphan, and a bachelor." 
 
THUS "SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 151 
 
 "How long did Macbeth remain in the labora- 
 tory?" 
 
 "About three weeks or a month." 
 
 "Was his hair always fair, before this hap- 
 pened?" I asked, still riding my hobby-horse. 
 
 She said, "Certainly, what an idea!" 
 
 "And what did they do with Nell?" 
 
 "The day after the quarrel, I heard her howl- 
 ing loudly, no doubt because they had separated 
 her from her master. 
 
 "According to your uncle, whom I asked 
 about it, she was with other dogs, in a kennel. 
 'Her right place,' added Lerne. She got out of 
 it the other night — perhaps you heard her. 
 
 "Poor Nell, how quickly she found out Mac- 
 beth was gone. She often howls at night-time. 
 Her life is not happy." 
 
 "Tell me the end of it," I said. "What is at 
 the bottom of it? What is the truth? Do you 
 believe in the madness which resulted from the 
 fall?" 
 
 "How do I know? It is possible, but I suspect 
 the laboratory contains horrible things, the very 
 sight of which would drive any one mad. Donovan 
 had never been in it. He must have seen some 
 ghastly things." 
 
 I then remembered the chimpanzee, and the 
 horrible impression its death had made upon me. 
 Emma might be right. The incident of the 
 
152 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 monkey strongly supported her hypothesis, but 
 instead of trying to find the answer to each riddle 
 in detail, should I not have gone back four years, 
 to that critical moment when so many problems 
 had started? Should I not have studied closely 
 the mysterious period when so many doors had 
 closed, in order to find the key which should open 
 them all? 
 
 A little foot peeped from the coverlet, and lay, 
 white and pink, on the pale yellow cover; it was 
 smooth, and like a strange jewel in its case. 
 
 "Good gracious, my dear, can you really walk 
 with that pretty little thing, with its nails polished 
 like Japanese corals — this living ticklish jewel — 
 that a mustache drives away." 
 
 The little foot went back into its cover, but 
 however dainty and tender and quick it was, it 
 recalled another one to me by contrast — the one 
 In the forest clearing — that sinister thing, which 
 I now felt sure was a piece of dead flesh in the 
 old shoe. 
 
 Suddenly it seemed to me that I was wandering 
 alone in a night full of ambushes. 
 
 "Emma, suppose we run away!" 
 
 She shook her Msenad's locks, and refused. 
 
 "Donovan proposed that to me. No, Lerne 
 has promised me I shall be rich; besides, on the 
 day 3'ou arrived, he swore he would kill me if I 
 
THUS SPAKE MLLE. BOURDICHET 153 
 
 deceived him, or tried to escape. I found out long 
 ago that he could fulfill his first threat, and I know 
 now that he could carry out the second." 
 
 "That is true. When he introduced us to one 
 another, you had the shadow of death in your 
 eyes." 
 
 "Now," she went on, "we can hide our love, 
 but we could not hide our running away. No, no, 
 let us stop where we are, and keep our eyes open. 
 Let us be careful." 
 
 Half-past four was striking on the clock when 
 I left my mistress, in order to return to Grey- 
 I'Abbaye. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 RASHNESS 
 
 I MADE my way as fast as I could back to Grey. 
 The fete was in full swing, and the crowd of 
 merry-makers received me with impertinent re- 
 marks and jokes. 
 
 Five by the station clock ! I profited by the 
 time at my disposal to arrange things a little, so 
 that my uncle might the more easily fall into the 
 snare which he had spread with his own hands 
 when he set me the task of repairing part of the 
 machine of which I had a duplicate. 
 
 Having put on my blue overalls, dirtied my 
 hands and face, taken out my tool-box, and turned 
 everything in it upside down, I slightly dented the 
 new carburetor, with light taps of a hammer, and 
 dirtied it with blacklead. With a few scrapes of 
 a file I succeeded in giving it the sort of rough 
 look of a newly forged piece of metal. 
 
 The train came in. When Lerne touched my 
 shoulder, I was endeavoring, with a great show 
 of effort to screw up a nut which was already 
 perfectly tight. 
 
 154 
 
RASHNESS 155 
 
 "Nicolas 1" 
 
 I turned towards my uncle a face like a coal- 
 heaver's, putting on as harsh an expression as I 
 could. 
 
 "I have just finished," I muttered; "that was a 
 nice trick of yours, getting people to work all for 
 nothing." 
 
 "Does it work all right again?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! I have just tried. You can see the 
 engine is smoking." 
 
 "Do you want the bits I carried away put back 
 into the carburetor?" 
 
 "Oh, no ! keep them as a remembrance of this 
 happy day, uncle. Come, let us get in, I have 
 had enough of standing about here." 
 
 Frederic Lerne was annoyed. 
 
 "You do not mind, Nicolas, do you?" 
 
 "Oh no, uncle, I do not mind." 
 
 "I have my reasons, you know. Later on . . ." 
 
 "All right, if you knew me, however, you would 
 not have been so much on your guard, but our 
 agreement justifies all you did. I should have had 
 no right to complain." 
 
 He made a vague, evasive gesture. 
 
 "You are not angry, that is the main point. 
 You understand how things are, don't you?" 
 
 Evidently Lerne was afraid he had vexed me, 
 and that, as a result of my annoyance, I might 
 disclose the existence of important secrets at 
 
156 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Fonval, even though I might not be able to inform 
 the right people of their nature. 
 
 Weighing all the facts of the case, I felt that 
 my presence as a stranger, free to depart when I 
 liked, must have been a subject for constant alarm 
 for my uncle. It seemed to me that in his place, 
 had I been obliged to receive a third party because 
 of his relationship with me, I should assuredly 
 have preferred to make him my accomplice as 
 soon as possible, so as to insure his discretion. 
 
 "After all," thought I to myself, "why has my 
 uncle not thought of it? Before the uncertain, 
 and perhaps illusory date when Lerne is to initi- 
 ate me, he will have to pass through a long period 
 of torment while he exercises over me the double 
 vigilance of an analyst and a police-officer. 
 
 "Suppose I were to anticipate his project? He 
 would doubtless gladly hasten to give the informa- 
 tion which Is as sacred as a secret of the con- 
 fessional, and which would unite the master and 
 the pupil in the same plot. 
 
 "I do not see why he should take my advances 
 badly, for in either of the two possible eventuali- 
 ties, that is, whether Lerne's promises to initiate 
 me into his enterprise are made in good faith or 
 not, the situation to-day has only two issues — 
 either my departure, with its threat of revelation, 
 or my connivance. 
 
 "Now, Emma and the mystery tie me to the 
 
RASHNESS 157 
 
 chateau, so I shall not go; there remains, there- 
 fore, a pretended complicity which would, more- 
 over, have the advantage of allowing me to solve 
 the puzzle — and who except Lerne could reveal 
 it to my eyes, since Emma knows nothing about 
 it, and since each solved problem, if I investigated 
 it by myself, would only leave another one to 
 follow? 
 
 "A sage diplomacy might certainly persuade my 
 uncle to make speedy revelations; that is what he 
 wants to do, but how to bring him to do it? 
 
 "What I must do is to insinuate that his secrets, 
 however criminal they may be, do not terrify me, 
 so that I shall have to pose as a man of resolution, 
 who does not shrink from contact with crimes, 
 and would not think of denouncing them, because, 
 if need were, he would commit them himself. 
 Yes, that's it! 
 
 "But how to hit on a crime which Lerne might 
 perpetrate, and which I might say Is natural and 
 harmless, and one which I would commit on the 
 first occasion myself? 
 
 "Good heavens, Nicolas! Yes, his own wicked 
 deeds ! Tell him that you know one of the worst 
 things he has done, and that you not only approve 
 of it, but of others of the same sort, and that 
 you are ready to help him in the matter. Then, 
 after such a declaration, he will unbosom himself, 
 and you will learn everything, with the intention 
 
158 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 of using this confidence, dictated by mere self- 
 interest for your own ends. But let me be cun- 
 ning. I shall only speak to my uncle when he is 
 in a pleasant humor, and provided the evidence of 
 the old shoe is not too damning." 
 
 So I reasoned, as I took Lerne back to Fonval, 
 but after my stormy afternoon, my ideas were not 
 very brilliant. 
 
 Under the influence of my environment, I 
 brooded over Lerne's unproven crimes and I 
 imagined them to be detestable and innumerable. 
 I forgot that his work, carried on with such 
 secrecy, and secure from risk of imitation, might 
 well have an industrial aim. In my impatience to 
 satisfy my curiosity and by reason of my exhaus- 
 tion, this strategy seemed to me a brilliant idea. 
 
 I underrated the enormity of the fictitious 
 avowal I should have to make before getting any- 
 thing in exchange. 
 
 Further reflection would have indicated the 
 danger to me, but adverse fortune would have it 
 that my uncle, satisfied by my answer, and seeing 
 me take things so well, affected the most surpris- 
 ing joviality. Never would an opportunity more 
 suitable to my designs present itself, so I thought- 
 lessly seized it. 
 
 According to his custom, my uncle waxed 
 enthusiastic over the car, and made me maneuver 
 
RASHNESS is<) 
 
 as I went through the labyrinth, and it was while 
 twisting and turning about that I had been de- 
 liberating in the manner described. 
 
 "Marvelous, Nicolas, I tell you again, It is 
 prodigious, this automobile ! An animal — a real 
 organized animal, and perhaps the least imperfect 
 of all, and who knows to what pitch progress may 
 lift it ! A spark of life in it ! A little more spon- 
 taneity! A touch of brain, and behold the most 
 beautiful creature in the world! Yes, more 
 beautiful than we are, perhaps, for remember 
 what I told you — it is perfectible, and undying — 
 two qualities of which the physical being of man 
 is pitifully devoid. 
 
 "Our whole body renews Itself almost entirely, 
 Nicolas. Your hair!" (Why the devil was he 
 always talking of hair?) Your hair is not the 
 same as it was last year, for example. It comes 
 up again, less brown, and older, and in smaller 
 numbers, whereas the automobile changes its parts 
 at will, and get young again each time, with a new 
 heart, and new brains which have more cunnlngj 
 than the original parts, 
 
 "So that in a thousand years a motor-car, which 
 never ceases to improve, will be as young as it is 
 to-day, if it has been put to rights at the proper 
 time, bit by bit. 
 
 "And do not tell me that It will not be the same 
 car, since all its parts shall have been replaced. 
 
i6o NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 If you made that objection, Nicolas, what would 
 you think about man, who, during this race to 
 death, that he calls life, is submitting to just as 
 ridiculous transformations, but all in the nature 
 of decay. 
 
 "So that we must come to this strange conclu- 
 sion — the man who dies old, is no longer he who 
 was born. He who has just been born, and must 
 succumb later on, will not die, at least, he will 
 not die all at once, but progressively, scattered to 
 the four winds of heaven in organic dust, during 
 which long phase another being forms itself 
 slowly in that place which is the place of the body. 
 
 "This other one, whose birth is imperceptible, 
 develops in each one of us, without our knowledge, 
 as the first one crumbles away. It supplants this 
 latter day by day, and it is modified continually 
 by the death and renewal of myriads of cells, of 
 which he is himself the sum total. He it is who 
 will be seen to die. 
 [~ "I tell you, Nicolas, if the motor-car were by 
 some miracle to become independent, man might 
 pack his trunks. His era would be near its end. 
 Compared with him, the motor-car would be 
 queen of the world, as before him reigned the 
 L^mammoth." 
 
 "Yes, but this sovereign queen would always be 
 dependent upon the mind of man." 
 
 "That is a fine argument. Are we not the 
 
RASHNESS i6i 
 
 slaves of the animals, and even the plants which 
 unceasingly rebuild our bodies with their flesh and 
 their pulp?" 
 
 My uncle was so pleased with his paradoxes, 
 that he shouted them out, and fidgeted about in his 
 seat, and sawed the air in a frenzy, as if he were 
 seizing ideas in armfuls. 
 
 "My dear nephew, what a splendid idea it was 
 of yours to bring this car ! It does buck me up 
 wonderfully. I must learn how to drive the beast. 
 I shall be the mahout of this fierce mammoth. 
 Eh! Eh! Ah! Ha!" 
 
 At the moment of this outburst of hilarity, I 
 was just finishing my reasoning, and it was the 
 outburst which caused me to make my attack — 
 and to commit my imprudence. 
 
 "How amusing you are, uncle! Your gayety 
 cheers me up. I recognize you again. Why 
 aren't you always like this, and why do you dis- 
 trust me — me, who, on the contrary — deserve all 
 your confidence?" 
 
 "But," said Lerne, "you know quite well I will 
 give it to you when the time has come. I have 
 quite decided on that." 
 
 "Why not at once, uncle?" 
 
 And I plunged bald-headed into my folly. "Are 
 we not made of the same stuff, you and I ? You 
 don't know me ! Nothing can astonish me, and I 
 
1 62 . NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 know more than you think! Yes, uncle, I share 
 your opinions and admire your acts." 
 
 Lerne, somewhat surprised, began to laugh. 
 
 "What do you know about it?" 
 
 ''What I know is that one cannot trust to the 
 law. One has to look after one's own affairs. If 
 some one happens to cross your path, the best way 
 is to get rid of him yourself, and such a removal, 
 if it is illegal, becomes legitimate. A chance 
 incident has confirmed me in this. 
 
 "In short, uncle, if my name were Frederic 
 Lerne, Mr. Macbeth would not be living so com- 
 fortably. You do not know me, I tell you." 
 
 By the Professor's voice, when next he spoke, 
 I perceived I had committed a blunder. He de- 
 fended himself in a voice which, I observed, 
 betrayed great weariness. 
 
 "Hallo !" said he, "this is something new. What 
 an idea ! Are you really as unprincipled as you 
 make out? Well, so much the worse. As for me, 
 I am not tarred with that brush, nephew. Mac- 
 beth is mad, but I had nothing to do with it. It 
 is a pity you saw him. It is an ugly sight. The 
 poor creature ! I had to put him away. What 
 nonsense, Nicolas ! What are you going to in- 
 vent next? It is a good thing, however, you have 
 spoken to me about it. It has opened my eyes. 
 Appearances are indeed against me. I was await- 
 ing till the patient got better, before telling his 
 
RASHNESS 163 
 
 people what had happened, so that they might 
 be less affected by a misfortune whose signs were 
 less obvious; but no, this timorous policy is too 
 dangerous. My own safety requires that at the 
 risk of hurting their feelings more, I must inform 
 them. I shall write to them no later than to-night 
 to come and fetch him. Poor Donovan ! His 
 departure will, I hope, disprove your suspicion, 
 but you have disappointed me very much, 
 Nicolas." 
 
 I was greatly confused. Had I made a mis- 
 take, or had Emma lied to me? Or else, did 
 Lerne want to lull my suspicions? However, it 
 was, I had committed a great piece of stupidity, 
 and Lerne, whether innocent or criminal, would 
 bear me a grudge for having accused him falsely 
 or otherwise. 
 
 I was defeated. All I had gained was a fresh 
 doubt — this time in regard to Emma. 
 
 "In any case, uncle, I swear to you that it was 
 only by chance that I discovered Macbeth." 
 
 "If chance leads you to discover other reasons 
 for maligning me," replied Lerne harshly, "do not 
 fail to inform me of it. I shall clear myself im- 
 mediately. Anyhow, the strict observance of your 
 word will prevent you from helping any chance 
 which should favor your meeting with madmen 
 ... or madwomen !" 
 
 We had arrived at Fonval. 
 
1 64 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 "Nicolas," said Lerne, In a gentler tone, "I 
 have a great liking for you. I wish you well. 
 Obey me, my lad." 
 
 "Ah, he wants to soft-sawder me," I thought 
 to myself. "He is paying court to me now. 
 Look out!" 
 
 "Obey me," he went on, with honeyed sweet- 
 ness, "and show by your reserve that you are al- 
 ready my ally; intelligent as you are, you must 
 surely understand this fine point. The day is not 
 far off, unless I am mistaken, when I shall be able 
 to tell you about everything. You shall then see 
 the magnificent things that I have dreamt of, and 
 of which I destine a share for you." 
 
 "Meanwhile, since you know about Macbeth's 
 absence — come, here is a sign of the good faith I 
 ask of you. Come with me and visit him. We 
 shall decide if he is strong enough to stand a rail- 
 way journey, and the crossing." 
 
 After a short hesitation I followed him into 
 the yellow drawing-room. 
 
 The madman at the sight of him humped his 
 back, and growling recoiled into a corner with a 
 look of terror and a revengeful gleam in his eye. 
 
 Lerne thrust me in before him — I was afraid 
 he meant to shut me in. 
 
 "Take hold of his hands and bring him into the 
 middle of the room." 
 
RASHNESS 165 
 
 Donovan allowed me to touch him. The 
 Doctor examined him thoroughly, but obviously 
 the scar attracted his greatest attention. In my 
 opinion, the rest of the inspection was merely a 
 sham for my benefit. 
 
 The scar — it was an incised crown that almost 
 disappeared under the long hair; a wound that 
 went round the back of the head. What possible 
 fall could have caused it? 
 
 "His health is excellent," said my uncle. "You 
 see, Nicolas, he was violent at first, and hurt 
 himself badly all over. In a fortnight, it will all 
 have disappeared. He can be taken away. The 
 consultation is at an end. So you advise me to 
 get rid of him as soon as possible, Nicolas? 
 Tell me your opinion, I attach value to it." 
 
 I congratulated him on his resolution, although 
 so much kindliness kept me on the alert. 
 
 Lerne gave a sigh. "You are right! The world 
 is so evil-minded. I am going to write immedi- 
 ately. Will you take my letter to the post at 
 Grey? It will be ready in ten minutes." 
 
 My nerves relaxed. I had asked myself as I 
 came into the chateau if I should ever come out 
 again, and sometimes, even now the demon of 
 unhealthy dreams shows me the madman's room 
 as a dungeon. 
 
 The old rascal was really showing himself 
 paternal and benevolent; though he could dispose 
 
l66 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 of my liberty and Imprison me, he sent me for a 
 run in the fields, which might have ended in a 
 flight. 
 
 Was a freedom, granted so readily, worth 
 profiting by? I wasn't such a fool I I would not 
 make use of it. 
 
 Whilst Lerne was writing his letter to the 
 Macbeths, I went for a stroll in the park, and I 
 there witnessed an incident which made the 
 strangest possible impression upon me. 
 
 As has been seen, fortune made ceaseless sport 
 of me. She jerked me like a marionette — first 
 towards calm, and then towards trouble. This 
 time she used a trivial cause to upset my mind. 
 Had I been feeling more at ease, I should not 
 have interpreted what was perhaps only a freak 
 of nature, as so great a mystery, but marvels were 
 in the air. I felt them everywhere, and this phrase 
 was always sounding in my ears : 
 
 "Since the night of my arrival, there were cer- 
 tain things outside which should not have been 
 there." 
 
 Those that I saw in the park that day — and 
 which I insist would not have astounded any 
 ordinary person as they did me — seemed to me 
 to fill up a gap in my evidence with regard to the 
 Lerne question. 
 
 It brought that study, so to speak, to a close. 
 
RASHNESS 167 
 
 It was very indistinct. I caught a glimpse of a 
 solution of all the problems — an abominable one 
 — but my ideas were not precise enough to express 
 it to myself. For the space of a second, however, 
 they were of unimaginable violence, and if I 
 shrugged my shoulders after the little scene which 
 inspired them, I must admit that they caused me 
 agony. This is what it was : Intending to 
 spend my ten minutes in having a look at the old 
 shoe, I was going down an avenue where the 
 evening dew was already moistening the high 
 grass. The night was beginning to fill the under- 
 wood. One heard the chirping of sparrows 
 growing less and less frequent. I think it was 
 about half-past six. The bull bellowed. As I 
 rounded the paddock I could only count four ani- 
 mals there — Pasiphae was no longer walking 
 about there in the half-mourning of her pied robe, 
 but that is a matter of no interest. 
 
 I was walking slowly on, when a tornado of 
 whistling, mingled with little cries — a mass of 
 shrill squeakings, if I may so say, made me pause. 
 
 The grass was stirring. I approached noise- 
 lessly, stretching out my neck. 
 
 A duel was going on there : one of those count- 
 less combats which make each cart-rut an abyss 
 of death, in order that one of the combatants 
 may feed on the other. 
 
 It was a little bird and a serpent. 
 
i68 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 The serpent was a rather imposing viper, whose 
 triangular head was marked with a white stigma 
 of the same shape. 
 
 The bird looked like a black-headed wren, with 
 this essential difference, however, that its head 
 was white. A variety, doubtless, from the aviary, 
 which I should be able to describe less awkwardly 
 if I were better versed in natural history. 
 
 The two combatants were face to face — one 
 approaching the other. 
 
 Imagine my bewilderment! It was the wren 
 which was forcing the serpent to recoil 1 It ad- 
 vanced in little quick jumps, without a quiver of 
 its wings, and as if hypnotizing its enemy. Its 
 fixed eye had the magnetic gleam of a dog's when 
 it points, and the helpless viper was recoiling be- 
 fore it, fascinated by its implacable looks, whilst 
 terror was wringing half-suppressed whistlings 
 from its throat. 
 
 *'Deuce take it," I said to myself, "is the world 
 upside down, or is my mind topsy-turvy?" 
 
 I then made the mistake of drawing too near 
 the scene in order to witness its denouement, and 
 this made a change. The wren saw me and flew 
 away, and its enemy gliding off into the grass left 
 the trace of its passage there in zigzags. 
 
 Already the ridiculous and exaggerated anguish 
 which had frozen me was dissipated. I took my- 
 self severely to task. "I must be half bhnd! It 
 
RASHNESS 169 
 
 is merely an example of maternal love — nothing 
 else. The heroic little bird is merely defending its 
 nest. One does not realize the love of mothers. 
 What a fool I have been !" 
 
 "Hallo ! Hallo 1" My uncle was hailing me. 
 I retraced my steps, but this incident haunted my 
 mind. In spite of my assurance that there was 
 nothing extraordinary in it, I did not speak about 
 it to Lerne, 
 
 The Professor looked cheerful. He wore the 
 smiling expression of a man who had just taken 
 a great resolution, and is much pleased at it. He 
 was standing before the principal door of the 
 chateau, the letter in his hand, and looking at the 
 boot-scraper with interest. 
 
 My presence not having interrupted his fit of 
 absent-mindedness, I thought it would be enlight- 
 ening to look at the scraper, too. It was a sharp 
 blade, mortized into the wall, and generous use 
 by many soles had curved it into the shape of a 
 sickle. 
 
 I presume that Lerne, in his meditation, was 
 looking at that knife without seeing it. Indeed, 
 he seemed suddenly to wake up. 
 
 "Here, Nicolas, here Is the letter! Pardon the 
 trouble I am giving you." 
 
 "Oh, uncle, I am used to it! Chauffeurs are 
 messengers despite themselves. Presuming on the 
 pleasure which rolling along without any aim is 
 
I70 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 supposed to give them, many a lady asks them to 
 roll along for something, and to cart away many 
 lots of very urgent and heavy parcels. Our sport 
 is taxed that way." 
 
 "Ah, ha!" says uncle, "you are a good fellow. 
 Off with you, the night is falling!" 
 
 I took the sad letter which was to announce 
 Donovan's madness to his parents in Scotland — 
 the blessed letter which was going to send Emma's 
 lover from her. 
 
 George Macbeth Esq., 
 12, Trafalgar Street, 
 Glasgow, 
 
 (Ecosse). 
 
 The writing of the address gave me food for 
 thought. 
 
 Only a few vestiges of the former flowing script 
 made it resemble Lerne's handwriting, but most 
 of the letters and the general appearance, denoted 
 a "graphic spirit" the exact opposite of that of 
 long ago. Graphology is never at fault. Its de- 
 crees are infallible. The writer of this address 
 had changed altogether. 
 
 In his youth, my uncle had given proof of every 
 virtue. What vices were now not his, and how 
 he must hate me, he who had loved me so much I 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE AMBUSH 
 
 The father of Macbeth came to fetch him with- 
 out delay, accompanied by his other son. Since 
 Lerne had written to him, nothing new had taken 
 place at Fonval. The mystery went on, and more 
 arrangements were made against my person. 
 
 Emma no longer came downstairs; from the 
 little drawing room I heard her busy with her 
 futile amusements in the lay-figure room. Her 
 little sharp heels went tap, tap, tap on the floor 
 above. My nights were sleepless. The harassing 
 idea of Lerne and Emma together kept me awake. 
 
 I tried to go out once, to take a walk in the cool 
 of the night, and so weary out my body. All the 
 doors down below were locked. 
 
 Ah ! Lerne was keeping a good watch on me. 
 
 However, the imprudence I had committed in 
 revealing my discovery of Macbeth had no other 
 apparent result than a renewal of his friendship. 
 In our walks which had now become more fre- 
 quent, he seemed to take more and more pleasure 
 in my society, endeavoring to mitigate the rigor of 
 
 171 
 
172 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 my spy-haunted life, and thus to keep me at Fon- 
 val, whether it was really to train an associate for 
 himself, or merely to guard against the risk of an. 
 escape. His attentions annoyed me. 
 
 This was the period when, without it seeming to 
 be so, I was more carefully watched than before. 
 My days were filled in a way which I disliked. I 
 was eaten up with impatience, between love on the 
 one hand, and mystery on the other — both for- 
 bidden ground for me. Though love for a pretty 
 woman, who was inaccessible, called me in one 
 direction, the mystery also attracted me as im- 
 periously in the other — that mystery which was 
 represented by an old boot. 
 
 This filthy elastic-sided boot served as a basis 
 for all the theories which I built up at night, in the 
 hope of calming my jealousy by curiosity. It con- 
 stituted, indeed, the one clear goal to which my in- 
 discretions could tend. 
 
 I had noted that the tool-house stood near the 
 clearing, and that was convenient for any attempt 
 to unearth the boot — and whatever else there 
 might be — but Lerne's displays of affection kept 
 me pitilessly away from the hothouse, the labora- 
 tory, Emma, and everything else. 
 
 So I ardently longed for something or other 
 new to happen, which should revolutionize our re- 
 lations, and give me a chance of escaping from the 
 vigilance of my guardians, — a sudden journey of 
 
THE AMBUSH 173 
 
 Lerne to Nanthel — an accident, anything from, 
 which I could derive some advantage. 
 
 This windfall was the arrival of the two Mac- 
 beths — father and son. 
 
 My uncle having been Informed of their arrival 
 by telegram, announced it to me with an outburst 
 of delight. 
 
 Why was he so pleased? Had I really en- 
 lightened him on the danger of keeping Donovan, 
 ill, away from his family? I found it devilish 
 hard to believe that. And then, that laugh of 
 Lerne's, even though sincere, seemed to have a 
 nasty quality. It could only be caused by his 
 having a chance of playing some dirty trick. 
 
 But, whatever the reason was, I showed the 
 same delight as the Professor, and that without 
 any guile, for I had every good ground for it. 
 
 They arrived one morning In a trap, hired at 
 Grey, and driven by Karl. They resembled one 
 another, and both resembled Donovan of the 
 photograph. They were tall, pale and impassive. 
 
 Lerne introduced me with perfect ease of 
 manner. They shook hands with me coldly, with 
 the same glove-clad gesture. One would have 
 said that they had put gloves over their souls. 
 
 Having been ushered Into the little drawing 
 room, they sat down without a word. 
 
 With his three assistants present, Lerne began 
 
174 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 a long speech In English, full of movement, illus- 
 trated by mimic gestures, and very emotional. 
 
 At a certain point in his story, he pretended to 
 tumble back like somebody who had slipped. 
 Then, taking the two men by the arm, he led them 
 to the central door of the chateau, near the park. 
 
 There he pointed out to them the scraper, 
 shaped like a sickle and then, once more went 
 through the tumbling farce. No doubt he was 
 explaining to them that Donovan had been 
 wounded by the curved blade which cut his head 
 when he fell backwards. 
 
 Good Lord I this was something new I 
 
 We went back to the drawing room. My uncle 
 finished his speech with wiping his eyes, and the 
 three Germans tried to do a little sniffling to indi- 
 cate a need for weeping violently suppressed. 
 
 The Macbeths, father and son, never budged; 
 they gave no sign either of grief or impatience. 
 
 At length, Karl, Johann and Wilhelm went out 
 of the room on an order from Lerne, and brought 
 in Donovan, clean-shaven, with his hair greased 
 and parted at the side, and the appearance of a 
 very fashionable young blade, although his travel- 
 ing suit, somewhat worn, dragged on the buttons 
 at the ail-too narrow collar, sending the blood into 
 his big good-natured face. His hair almost hid 
 the scar. 
 
 At the sight of his father and brother the mad- 
 
THE AMBUSH 175 
 
 man's eye gleamed with genuine happiness, and a 
 smile lit up that face which had seemed so apathe- 
 tic, with affectionate kindness. 
 
 I thought that he was restored to reason — but 
 he knelt down at the feet of his relations and 
 began to lick their hands, harking inarticulately! 
 
 His brother could not get anything else out of 
 him. His father failed also, whereupon the Mac- 
 beths prepared to take leave of Lerne. 
 
 My uncle spoke to them. I grasped that they 
 were declining some invitation or other to lunch. 
 The other did not insist, and everybody went out. 
 
 Wilhelm put Donovan's trunk on the box of the 
 carriage. 
 
 "Nicolas," said Lerne to me, "I am taking these 
 gentlemen as far as the train. You will remain 
 here with Johann and Wilhelm. Karl will come 
 with me. I leave the house in your charge," said 
 he, In a jovial tone, and he gave me a frank hand- 
 shake. 
 
 Was my uncle making a fool of me ? Not much 
 chance of being master of a house when there were 
 two such watchers there. 
 
 They got Into the trap, Karl and the trunk In 
 front, Lerne, the madman and the two Macbeths 
 behind. 
 
 No sooner had the door slammed, than Dono- 
 van rose all at once, with a face of terror, as if he 
 had heard Death sharpening his scythe. 
 
176 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 A long howl, quite distinct from all others rose 
 from the laboratory. The madman pointed in 
 that direction, and replied to Nell with a long- 
 drawn bestial cry, the horror of which made us all 
 turn pale. 
 
 We awaited the end of it, as if for a deliverance. 
 
 Lerne, with his imperious eye, and harsh speech, 
 gave orders, "Vorwarts, Karl, vorwarts," and 
 without any consideration, he thrust down his 
 pupil, with a blow, on the seat. 
 
 The carriage moved off. 
 
 The madman, sitting close to his brother, looked 
 at him wildly, as if he were the victim of some mis- 
 fortune he could not understand. 
 
 The dreadful mystery was on me again. It 
 was around me, coming nearer and nearer. This 
 time I had felt the touch of its wings. 
 
 Far away, the bowlings were redoubled, then 
 the elder Macbeth exclaimed, "Nell, where is 
 Nell?" And my uncle replied, "Alas, Nell is 
 dead." 
 
 "Poor Nell!" said Mr. Macbeth. 
 
 Duffer as I was, I knew enough English to 
 translate this school-book dialogue. Lerne's lie 
 made me indignant. To think of his daring to 
 say that Nell was dead, and that that was not her 
 voice ! What a piece of villainy ! Ah ! why did I 
 not shout out to this phlegmatic couple, "Stop, you 
 
THE AMBUSH 177 
 
 are being fooled! There Is something strange 
 and terrible here !" 
 
 Yes, but I did not know what It was, and the 
 Macbeths would have taken me for another 
 madman. 
 
 Meanwhile, the hired horse trotted along to- 
 wards the gate, where Barbe stood ready to shut 
 it. 
 
 Donovan had sat down again, In front of them. 
 The Macbeths, father and son, maintained their 
 stiff dignity, but as the carriage turned at the gate, 
 I saw the father's back suddenly bend and quiver 
 more than could have been explained by the jolting 
 over the stones. 
 
 Then the old cracking halves of the gate closed 
 again. 
 
 I am sure that the brother Macbeth broke into 
 sobs not much later. 
 
 Johann and Wllhelm departed. Were they 
 going to relieve me of their company? I tracked 
 them along the park as far as the laboratory. 
 Nell was continuing her lamentations. They 
 probably wanted to silence her, and, in fact, her 
 howls ceased as soon as the assistants got into 
 the yard. 
 
 But my fears were groundless. Instead of 
 going up to the chateau to lock me in, the black- 
 
178 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 guards, having lighted cigars coolly sat down for 
 an obvious siesta. 
 
 Through an open window of their block, I 
 could see them in their shirt sleeves, smoking like 
 chimneys, and rocking in their rocking-chairs. 
 
 When I had assured myself of their intentions, 
 without asking myself whether they were acting 
 thus against Lerne's orders, or with his consent, 
 and a thousand miles from thinking that, as they 
 puffed away at the open window, they were carry- 
 ing out his instructions point by point, I betook 
 myself to the tool-house. 
 
 Soon I was digging at the ground round the old 
 shoe. I may now say, "round the foot." 
 
 With its point upwards, it stood up at the bot- 
 tom of a hole where Donovan's nails still showed 
 their marks, among less recent scratches. When 
 one examined these latter, which had been made 
 by strong and powerful paws, the only possible 
 conclusion was that the first digger must have been 
 a dog of large size — apparently Nell, at the time 
 when she wandered about the park in complete 
 freedom. 
 
 A leg was attached to this foot, and only lightly 
 covered with earth. I clung to the possibility of 
 some anatomical debris, but without much convic- 
 tion. A hairy body followed the leg — a whole 
 corpse, hardly clothed, and far advanced in 
 decomposition! 
 
THE AMBUSH 179 
 
 It had been buried aslant — the head, lower 
 down than the feet, still remained buried. It was 
 with a trembling spade that I uncovered the chin, 
 whiskers that were almost blue, then a thick 
 mustache — finally a face. 
 
 I now knew what fate had overtaken all the 
 personages who were grouped in the photograph. 
 . . Otto Klotz, half unburied, with his head 
 in the earth, was lying there before me! 
 
 I identified him without any hesitation. It was 
 quite unnecessary to uncover him completely — 
 on the contrary, it was best to fill in the hole, so as 
 to leave no traces of my escapade. 
 
 However, all of a sudden, I seized the pick in 
 frenzy, and began digging away by the side of the 
 dead man. Here rose up a bone like a white and 
 spongy mushroom. Were there other things 
 buried there? Oh ! ! 
 
 I dug and dug. I was In a fever. White spots 
 flickered before my eyes, and it seemed to me that 
 tongues of fire were raining on my maddened eye 
 like a pentecostal deluge. 
 
 I dug and dug, and uncovered a whole cemetery, 
 but thank God! a cemetery of animals — some, 
 mere skeletons, others, with their feathers or fur 
 — dry or oozy! Guinea-pigs, rabbits, dogs, cats 
 — sometimes whole, sometimes in bits, the rest of 
 which had gone to feed the pack. The leg of a 
 horse! Ah, dear Biribi, it was yours; and under 
 
i8o NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 a layer of earth which had been recently stirred, 
 bits of butcher's meat wrapped up in a dappled 
 skin — the remains of Pasiphae ! 
 
 A fetid stench choked me. Exhausted, I 
 leaned over my filthy pick, in the midst of the 
 charnel-house. The sweat which poured from me, 
 stung my eyes. I was gasping for breath. 
 
 At that moment, my eyes lighted, by chance, on 
 a skull — that of a cat. Immediately I picked it 
 up. It was a regular pipe's bowl! That is to 
 say, a great circular hole took the place of the 
 crown. 
 
 I then took up another — a rabbit's, if I re- 
 member rightly. Here too, was the same 
 peculiarity. 
 
 Four — sixteen other skulls, each showing its 
 gaping hole, but with some differences in its 
 position. 
 
 Here and there the bony tops of skulls strewed 
 the clearing with their large or tiny cups — some 
 deep — some flat. 
 
 One would have said that all those creatures had 
 been massacred in a scientific hecatomb — a care- 
 fully reasoned-out sacrifice. 
 
 Suddenly, an atrocious idea seized me. I bent 
 down over the dead man, and succeeded in getting 
 the mud off his head. Nothing abnormal in front. 
 His hair was closely cropped, but behind, en- 
 circling the whole occiput, like Macbeth's scar, 
 
THE AMBUSH i8i 
 
 from one temple to the other, a horrible cut laid 
 bare the broken brain. 
 
 Lerne had killed Klotz ! He had suppressed 
 him because of Emma, in the same way that he 
 knocked the life out of animals and fowls, when 
 he had exhausted their power of enduring his ex- 
 periments. It was a surgical crime. I now im- 
 agined I had probed the mystery to the bottom. 
 
 I thought to myself, "Macbeth's madness comes 
 from this, that Lerne missed his blow. The poor 
 doomed creature saw a dreadful death coming on 
 him. But why should my uncle have missed him? 
 Perhaps in his blind fury, he suddenly saw clear, 
 and feared reprisals from the Macbeth family." 
 
 As for Klotz, he was an orphan and a bachelor, 
 as Emma assured me, so there he is ! and the same 
 fate awaits me — awaits her, perhaps, if we are 
 found together ! 
 
 "Oh, to flee, to flee, she and I together, to flee. 
 It's the only reasonable plan, and opportunity 
 favors us! Will it ever occur again?" 
 
 We must make for the station, through the 
 forest, in order to avoid Lerne and Karl, who 
 are coming by the road. But the labyrinth ! — 
 Perhaps it would be better to use the motor-car 
 and pass over their bodies. I do not know, we 
 shall see ! 
 
1 82 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Shall I be in time? Quick, for God's sake, 
 quick ! 
 
 I ran panting, striving to outstrip the light, 
 swift, unseen feet of Death. 
 
 I ran, twice falling and twice picking myself up, 
 and gasping with the fear of that Pursuer. 
 
 The chateau! No Lerne yet! His felt hat 
 was not hanging on its usual peg in the hall. I 
 had won the first lap. The second was to get us 
 away, without return. I dashed up the staircase, 
 crossed the landing, went through the dressing- 
 room at a bound, and burst into Emma's room. 
 
 "Let us begone," I blurted out. "Come, sweet- 
 heart, come, I will explain all. There is murder 
 being done at Fonval!" 
 
 "What's the matter? What Is it?" 
 
 She remained rigid in the presence of my ex- 
 citement, standing stiffly up. 
 
 "How white you are. Don't be afraid." 
 
 Then, and then only, I perceived that terror 
 possessed her, and that with frightened eyes, and 
 bloodless lips, her poor dead face was signing to 
 me to be silent, and announcing the imminence of 
 a great danger, close at hand, too close for her to 
 be able to warn me of it with a gesture or a sound, 
 without the watchful enemy taking revenge upon 
 her. 
 
 And yet, nothing happened. I took in the 
 whole peaceful chamber at a glance. Everything 
 
THE AMBUSH 183 
 
 in it seemed to me mysterious. The air itself 
 was a hostile fluid — an unbreathable ocean in 
 which I was sinking. 
 
 I felt a terror of what might happen behind 
 me. I waited some legendary apparition. 
 
 And it was more terrible, this apparition, than 
 the sudden appearance of Mephistopheles. For 
 it was heme calmly coming out of a wardrobe/ 
 
 "You have kept us waiting, Nicolas," he said. 
 I was thunder-struck. Emma sank on the ground 
 foaming at the mouth, and twisting about under 
 the furniture. 
 
 "Jetzt!" cried the professor. 
 
 A rustle of dresses in the next room — I heard 
 the lay-figures fall. Wilhelm and Johann flung 
 themselves on me. 
 
 Bound! Caught! Lost! And the terror of 
 torture made me a coward. 
 
 "Uncle," I entreated, "kill me at once, I beg 
 you. No torture! A revolver; the dagger — 
 poison I Anything you like, uncle, but no 
 torture!" 
 
 Lerne sniggered, as he flipped Emma's cheeks 
 with a wet towel. 
 
 I felt myself going mad. Who knows if Mac- 
 beth's reason had not gone in a moment like this! 
 Macbeth! Klotz ! 
 
 The hallucination made me feel a sharp pain, 
 which pierced my skull from temple to temple. 
 
1 84 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 The assistants took me downstairs, Johann at 
 my head — Wilhelm at my feet. 
 
 Were they simply going to put me away in a 
 locked room ! 
 
 A nephew, damn it all, is not to be slaughtered 
 like a chicken ! 
 
 They took their way to the laboratory. 
 
 In my fainting condition, my whole life, day by 
 day, passed before me in the moment of a heart's 
 beat. 
 
 The Professor joined us. . We went past the 
 Germans' block, and along beside the courtyard 
 wall. Lerne opened a door on the ground floor 
 of the left wing, and I was laid out under the 
 operating theater, in a sort of wash-house that 
 was as bare as a sepulcher, and all inlaid with 
 white tiles. 
 
 A curtain of thick cloth hanging from a rod on 
 rings, separated it into two compartments of equal 
 size. * 
 
 Its atmosphere was that of a chemist's shop. 
 There was plenty of light in it. 
 
 They had set up against the wall a little truckle- 
 bed, which Lerne pointed out to me saying, "Your 
 bed has been ready for you for some time, 
 Nicolas." 
 
 Then my uncle gave some Instructions to the 
 Germans, in their native language. The two as- 
 
THE AMBUSH 185 
 
 sistants having unbound me, undressed me. Re- 
 sistance was useless. 
 
 A few minutes later I was comfortably lying in 
 bed, with sheets up to my chin, and tucked in. 
 Johann alone watched over me, sitting astride on 
 a stool, the only ornament of this austere place. 
 
 The curtain drawn aside let me see another 
 folding door — the door into the courtyard. 
 
 In front of me, — through the bay window, I 
 saw my old friend the fir tree. 
 
 My sadness increased. My mouth had a bad 
 flavor in it, as if it had already tasted its approach- 
 ing decomposition. 
 
 "Oh, to think that in a short time some filthy 
 chemistry would be a prelude to that!" 
 
 Johann toyed with a revolver, and aimed it at 
 me every now and again, much pleased with his 
 excellent joke. 
 
 I turned round towards the wall, and that 
 caused me to discover an inscription engraved in 
 uncouth letters on the varnish of the tiling, made 
 by the help, at least so I thought, of the jewel in 
 a ring: 
 
 "Good-by, for ever, my dear father; Donovan." 
 
 The unhappy man. He also had been laid on 
 this bed — Klotz also, and who could prove that 
 my uncle had made only those two his victims 
 before me; but I cared very little. 
 
 The day sank into night. There was a rapid 
 
i86 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 coming and going above us. At night this slack- 
 ened and ceased. Then Karl, who had come back 
 from Grey-l'Abbaye, relieved Johann of his post. 
 
 Almost immediately afterwards, Lerne had me 
 plunged into a bath, and forced a bitter liquid 
 down my throat. I recognized sulphate of mag- 
 nesia. No doubt they were going to cut me up. 
 These were forerunners of an operation. No one 
 is ignorant of that now, in this age of appendicitis. 
 It would be on the next day. 
 
 What were they going to try on my body before 
 killing it ! 
 
 I was alone with Karl ! 
 
 I was hungry ! 
 
 Not far from me a murmur arose from the 
 wretched poultry-yard. There was a faint sound 
 of stirred straw; timid cackling, strange barks. 
 The beasts began to moan. 
 
 Night! 
 
 Lerne came in. I was in a state of wild agita- 
 tion. He felt my pulse. "Are you happy?" he 
 asked me. 
 
 "Brute !" I replied. 
 
 "Very well, I shall administer a sedative." He 
 offered It to me, and I drank it. It stank of 
 chloral. 
 
 Once more I am alone with Karl. 
 
 Songs of toads, light of stars, dawning of the 
 moon, uprising of its red disc. Mystic assump- 
 
THE AMBUSH 187 
 
 tlon of the luminary from star to star. All the 
 beauty of night. . . . 
 
 Then a forgotten prayer — the petition of a 
 little child — went up from my distress towards the 
 paradise which yesterday seemed a myth, and now 
 was a certainty. How had I ever doubted its 
 existence ? 
 
 And the moon wandered in the firmament like 
 an aureole in search of a brow. 
 
 It was long since my eyelids had closed on tears. 
 I fell into drowsy delirium. The buzzing in my 
 ears became a hubbub. (There are certain noises 
 almost inperceptible, which seem like the thunder 
 of cataclysms far away.) 
 
 They were heaping up straw. That poultry- 
 yard is exasperating. The bull was bellowing. I 
 even had an illusion that it was bellowing louder 
 and louder. 
 
 Did they bring It In every evening, along with 
 the cows, into the stall of that strange farm? 
 
 Good Lord, what a row! 
 
 It was while my mind was wandering In that 
 way, under the Influence of the drug, that, con- 
 demned to death, or destined for madness, I fell 
 Into a heavy and artificial sleep, which lasted till 
 the morning. 
 
 Some one touched me on the shoulder. Lerne, 
 in a white overall was standing near the bed. 
 
1 88 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 The murder idea had sprung up again instan- 
 taneously and clearly in me. 
 
 "What o'clock is it? Am I to die, or is your 
 business over?" 
 
 "Patience, nephew. Nothing has begun yet," 
 
 "What are you going to do with me ? Are you 
 going to inoculate me with plague, tuberculosis, 
 cholera? Tell me, uncle." 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "Come, come, no nonsense," he said. 
 
 He withdrew, and revealed an operating table, 
 which, lying on narrow supports like an open bier, 
 had the appearance of a rack. 
 
 All the sets of instruments and the crowd of 
 bottles shone in the light of the rising sun. Anti- 
 septic dressings lay on a little table in a woolly 
 cloud. 
 
 The two nickel-plated spheres on their supports, 
 showed round, like divers' helmets. A spirit lamp 
 was burning under them. I nearly fainted with 
 horror. At the side behind the curtain something 
 was going on. A penetrating odor of ether came 
 from it. 
 
 The secret, the secret always! 
 
 "What's behind that ?" I cried. 
 
 From between the wall and the curtain Karl 
 and Wilhelm appeared, leaving the room which 
 had thus been contrived on the other side of the 
 
THE AMBUSH 189 
 
 compartment. They also had put on white over- 
 alls, though they were only assistants, but Lerne 
 had seized something, and I felt, on the back of 
 my neck, the chill touch of steel. 
 
 I uttered a cry. 
 
 "Idiot!" said my uncle, "it's a clipper." 
 
 He cut my hair, and shaved my hairy scalp 
 close. At every touch of the razor I thought I 
 felt the edge in my flesh. 
 
 After that, they soaked my skull again, dried it, 
 and the Professor, by means of a soft pencil and 
 calipers, covered my baldness with cabalistic lines. 
 
 "Take off your shirt," he said to me. "Take 
 care, do not spoil my diagrams." 
 
 "Stretch yourself out on that, now." 
 
 They helped me to haul myself up on the table, 
 to which they bound me fast, with my arms under 
 the bier. 
 
 Where was Johann? 
 
 Karl, without any warning, put a sort of muzzle 
 over me. An odor of ether penetrated my lungs. 
 
 "Why not chloroform?" I said to myself. 
 
 Lerne recommended as follows : 
 
 "Breathe deeply and regularly — it is for your 
 own good. Breathe !" 
 
 I obeyed. 
 
 There is a syringe with a sharp-pointed nozzle 
 in my uncle's hand. 
 
 Hallo ! he has pricked my neck with it! 
 
190 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 I moved my jaws, my tongue and lips feeling 
 like lead. 
 
 "Wait, I am not sleeping yet. What Is this 
 virus?" 
 
 "Morphia," said the Professor simply. 
 
 The anesthetic was gaining on me. Another 
 prick, on the shoulder — this time very sharp. 
 
 "I am not sleeping! Good heavens, wait! I 
 am not sleeping." 
 
 "That is what I wanted to know," growled my 
 executioner. 
 
 For some moments a consolation had been as- 
 suaging my torture. Did not the cranial prepara- 
 tions seem to show that they were going to 
 slaughter me without delay? And yet Macbeth 
 had survived his trepanning. 
 
 I seemed to get far away Inside myself. Silvery 
 bells gayly rang a celestial chime, which I have 
 never been able to remember, though it seemed to 
 me unforgetable. 
 
 Another prick on the shoulder, which I hardly 
 felt. I wished to say again that I was not sleep- 
 ing. Vain effort ! My words sounded dully sub- 
 merged in the depths of an invading sea. They 
 were held lifeless, and I alone could make them 
 out. 
 
 The rings glide along the curtain rod, and with- 
 out suffering, on the threshold of this artificial 
 Nirvana, this is v/hat I seemed to perceive. 
 
THE AMBUSH 191 
 
 Lerne makes a long incision from the right 
 temple to the left, round the occiput — an incom- 
 plete scalping, and he brings down all the strips 
 of flesh in front of my face, making my forehead 
 like a shambles. From in front, one must see me 
 with the bleeding and jumbled head which I re- 
 membered on the monkey. 
 
 "Help, I am not sleeping!" 
 
 But I cannot hear my cries for the jangling of 
 the silver bells. To begin with, they are too far 
 down under the sea, and now the sound of the 
 bells is deafening, like great church bells chiming 
 with a formidable din, and it is now I who plunge 
 into the ocean of ether. 
 
 Am I living, or am I not? I am a dead man 
 who is conscious of being dead. . . . 
 
 Even more so. . . . 
 
 Nothingness ! 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 
 
 I OPENED my eyes on thick darkness in a place 
 where there was neither noise nor smell. 
 
 I wanted to say once more, "Do not begin, I 
 am still awake," but no word sounded. 
 
 The delirium of the night was being prolonged. 
 It seemed to me that the bellowing had got nearer, 
 so much so, indeed, that I seemed to hear it in 
 myself. I could not manage to master my ridicu- 
 lous senses. I kept quiet. 
 
 Then there grew in me the assurance that the 
 mysterious business was at an end. 
 
 Gradually the darkness lightened. Uncon- 
 sciousness was coming to an end. 
 
 As my blindness got better, smells and sounds, 
 ever in greater number, were like a welcomed 
 crowd coming towards me. 
 
 "Oh, happiness, to remain thus — thus for 
 ever !" 
 
 But this Inverse death struggle came ever on in 
 spite of me, and life seized me once more. 
 
 However, objects, though now distinct, re- 
 192 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 193 
 
 mained shapeless, without perspective, and curi- 
 ously colored. 
 
 My vision embraced a wide space — a field 
 vaster than before. I remembered that the influ- 
 ence of certain anesthetics on the dilatation of the 
 pupil, a phenomenon which no doubt brought on 
 these disturbances of sight. 
 
 I noted, however, without very much difficulty, 
 that they had lifted me from the table, and laid 
 me on the ground, on the other side of the room, 
 and in spite of my eye, which functioned like a 
 distorting lens, I succeeded in recognizing the 
 situation. 
 
 The curtain was no longer drawn. 
 
 Lerne and his assistants, grouped round the 
 operating table, were busy about something which 
 their grouping hid from me — probably the clean- 
 ing of instruments. 
 
 Through the wide-opened door, one could see 
 the park, and hardly twenty yards away, a corner 
 of the paddock, where the cows were ruminating 
 and lowing. --, 
 
 Only, I might have Imagined myself transported | 
 into the most revolutionary picture of the im- 
 pressionist school. The azure of the sky, with- 
 out losing its limpid depths, had changed into a 
 fine orange dye. The paddocks — the trees — in- 
 stead of being green seemed to me to be red. 
 
194 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 The buttercups of the meadow, st'arred vermilion 
 grass with violets. 
 
 Everything had changed color, except, however, 
 the black and white things. The dark trousers of 
 the four men obstinately remained as before, as 
 also their overalls, but those white overalls were 
 marked with green stains. 
 
 Green stains were also shining on the ground, 
 and what could this liquid be except blood, and 
 what was there astonishing in its appearing green, 
 since greenery gave me the sense of red? 
 
 This liquid exhaled a pungent smell, which 
 would have driven me far away, if I had been 
 capable of budging, and yet, the smell was not that 
 which I had been accustomed to associate with 
 blood. 
 
 I had never smelt it, any more than those other 
 , perfumes, or any more than my ears remembered 
 LJiaving heard sounds like these. 
 
 It was strange that the aberration of my senses 
 had not been dissipated along with the vapors of 
 the ether. I endeavored to fight against this feel- 
 ing of .numbness. No use ! They had stretched 
 me out on a litter of straw, of purple straw. 
 
 The operators kept their backs turned to me, 
 except Johann. 
 
 Every now and again, Lerne flung into the basin 
 cotton-wool stained with green blood. . . . 
 
 Johann was the first to perceive my awaking, 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 195 
 
 and he told the Professor of it. There was then 
 a movement of general curiosity with regard to 
 me, which, breaking up the group, allowed me to 
 see an absolutely naked man bound to the table, 
 with his hands under it — motionless and white, the 
 color of wax, like a corpse, the blackness of his 
 mustache making the paleness still paler, and his 
 head, enveloped in bandages bedabbled with spurts 
 of green. 
 
 His breast rose rhythmically. He was breathing 
 in the air with all his lungs, his nostrils quivering 
 with each inhalation. This man — it took me 
 some time to accept it — was myself. 
 
 When I was certain that no mirror was giving 
 me back my own image, which was an easy matter 
 to settle, it came into my mind that Lerne had 
 doubled my being, and that now I was two. . . . 
 
 Or else, was I not dreaming? 
 
 No, assuredly not, but up to now the adventure 
 had not got beyond the bizarre stage. I was 
 neither dead nor mad, and the evidence of this 
 cheered me mightily. 
 
 (Protest as one may against the conviction 
 which I felt of possessing all my reason, the future 
 was to confirm this rash judgment.) 
 
 The man on the operating-table shook his head. 
 Wilhelm had unfastened him, and I beheld my 
 other self awaking to a faint-like condition. 
 
 Opening eyes like those of a blind man, he 
 
196 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 waggled his head about with an idiotic air, stroked 
 the edges of the table and sat up. 
 
 He did not look at all well. I could not accept 
 the idea that my double should behave so like a 
 brute beast. 
 
 They laid the patient in the little truckle-bed. 
 He allowed himself to be patted; but soon he was 
 convulsed with painful vomiting proving beyond 
 doubt the total absence of communication between 
 him and me, since I suffered in no wise from his 
 troubles, except mentally, and through the effect of 
 a feeling of compassion, which was very natural, 
 towards a gentleman who was so very like myself. 
 
 Like ! Was that only a replica of my body, or 
 was it really my body? 
 
 * Bosh ! Absurd I I could feel, see and hear — 
 very badly, it is true, but enough in any case to 
 convince myself that I possessed a nose, eyes and 
 ears. 
 
 I made an effort, and cords cut into my limbs, so 
 I had flesh — flabby and benumbed, but still flesh. 
 My body was here, and not there. 
 
 The Professor announced that he was going to 
 unbind me. The hempen thongs were undone. I 
 rose with one shake, and a complex impression 
 spread terror into my soul and made it sink. 
 
 Good Heavens ! how heavy I was, and how 
 short. I wished to look at myself, and there was 
 nothing below my head, and as I bent it more, with 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 197 
 
 great trouble, I saw, instead of my feet, two 
 cloven hoofs which ended black and knotty legs 
 covered with thick hair I 
 
 A cry arose in my throat! . . . 
 
 And it was that nocturnal bellowing which 
 broke out in my mouth, making the house shake, 
 and echoing far away amongst the inaccessible 
 rocks. 
 
 "Hold your tongue, Jupiter," said Lerne, "you 
 are annoying poor Nicolas there, who needs rest," 
 and he pointed out my body, which had raised 
 Itself in alarm on the bed. 
 
 So I was the black bull ! Lerne, that loathsome 
 magician had changed me into a beast ! 
 
 He abandoned himself to brutal enjoyment. 
 The three servile ruffians held their sides and 
 guffawed, and my ox's eyes learned to weep. 
 
 "Well," said the sorcerer, as if replying to the 
 rush of my thoughts. "Well, yes, you are Jupiter, 
 but you have a right to ask me more." 
 
 "Here Is your birth certificate. You were born 
 in Spain, in a celebrated ganader'ia, and you come 
 from famous parents, whose male posterity falls 
 gloriously with a sword at their throat, on the 
 sand of the bull-rings. I rescued you from the 
 bandarillos of the toreadors, your pedigree suiting 
 my purpose, and paid a high price for you — you 
 and the cows. You cost me two thousand 
 piastres, exclusive of carriage. 
 
198 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 "You were born five years and two months ago, 
 so you can live as long again — no more; if we let 
 you die of old age. 
 
 "To sum up, I bought you in order to try some 
 experiments on your organism. This is only the 
 first one." My facetious relative was seized with 
 an attack of uncontrollable laughter. When he 
 had exhausted his superfluous gayety, he went on: 
 
 "Ah, ha ! Nicolas ! you are all right aren't you? 
 You are not at all uncomfortable? I am sure 
 your curiosity, you son of woman, your infernal 
 curiosity, must be keeping you up and I bet that 
 you are less annoyed than interested. Come ! I 
 am a kindly chap, and since you are discreet now, 
 my dear ward, listen to the information which you 
 desire. 
 
 "Did I not say to you, 'The time is drawing 
 near when you shall know all?' Nicolas, you are 
 now going to know all, and indeed it would not 
 please me to pass as a devil — a miracle-monger, 
 or a sorcerer. I am neither Belphegor, nor 
 Moses, nor Merlin — I am just Lerne, tout court/ 
 My power does not come from the outside, it is 
 my own, and I am proud of it. It is my science. 
 All that one could say by way of correction, is, 
 that it is the science of humanity, which I have 
 continued in my day, and of which I am the most 
 advanced pioneer and chief master. 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 199 
 
 "But, do not let us be conceited ! Do the band- 
 ages stop up your ears? Can you hear me?" 
 
 I made a sign with my head. 
 
 "Well, listen, then, and do not roll your eyes 
 about — all will be explained." 
 
 Good Lord ! we are not in Wonderland. 
 
 The assistants were cleaning and arranging the 
 instruments. My body was asleep and snoring. 
 
 Lerne dragged his stool up beside me, and sat 
 down, with his mouth on a level with my ear, and 
 discoursed in the following terms: 
 
 "To begin with, my nephew, I was wrong a mo- 
 ment ago, in calling you 'Jupiter.' To use words 
 in an exact way, I have not metamorphosed you 
 into a bull, and you are still Nicolas Vermont, for 
 the name denotes, above all, the personality which 
 is the soul and not the body. 
 
 "As, on the one hand, you have kept your soul, 
 and as, on the other, the soul has its seat in the 
 brain, it is easy for you to argue by induction, in 
 the presence of those surgical instruments, that I 
 have just exchanged Jupiter's brain with yours and 
 that it now lives in your cast-off body. 
 
 "You will probably say, Nicolas, that it is a dis- 
 gusting pleasantry on my part! 
 
 "You do not divine either the supreme object of 
 my studies, nor the series of ideas which has in- 
 spired them, and yet, from this logical series is de- 
 rived this little pleasantry derived from Ovid; but 
 
200 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 it is possible that it means nothing to you, for I 
 have only gone in for this by the way. 
 
 "We will call it, if you like, a workshop joke! 
 
 "No, my ultimate aim does not reveal itself in 
 this form — a funny and malicious one, you will ad- 
 mit, but puerile, without any results social or in- 
 dustrial that can be exploited. 
 
 "My aim is the 'introversion' of human person- 
 alities, which I have endeavored to achieve, in the 
 first place, by the interchange of brains. 
 
 "You know my inveterate passion for flowers ! 
 I have always cultivated them with the utmost en- 
 thusiasm. My earlier life was absorbed by my 
 profession, which was interrupted only on Sundays 
 with this recreation — a day's gardening. 
 
 "Well, the hobby influenced my profession. 
 Grafting influenced my surgery, and in the hospital 
 I was inclined to give myself up more especially to 
 animal grafting. I became a specialist in that, 
 and grew fond of it, finding in my clinics the en- 
 thusiasm of the hothouse. 
 
 "Even in the beginning I had dimly foreseen a 
 point of contact between animal and vegetable 
 grafts — a hyphen which my logically conducted 
 labors made clear some time ago. ... I will 
 return to that. 
 
 "When I took up animal grafting with enthusi- 
 asm, this branch of surgery was languishing. In 
 fact, ever since the Hindoos of antiquity, who 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 201 
 
 were the first grafters, it had remained stationary. 
 
 "But perhaps you forget its underlying prin- 
 ciples. That doesn't matter. Learn them afresh. 
 They are based, Nicolas, on this fact, that animal 
 tissues possess, each of them, a personal vitality, 
 and that the body of an animal is only the milieu 
 adapted to the life of those tissues — a milieu from 
 which they may be removed, and live for a more 
 or less long time. 
 
 "i. Don't the nails and the hair grow after 
 death? You are not ignorant of that. They 
 survive. 
 
 "2. A man who has been dead for fifty-four 
 hours, and has left no descendants, still fulfills the 
 chief condition for remedying that. Unfortu- 
 nately, other essential faculties are wanting. But 
 I will pass on. 
 
 "3. In certain conditions of humidity, oxygena- 
 tion and heat, scientists have been able to keep a 
 rat's tail, which had been cut off, alive for seven 
 days; an amputated finger, for four hours. At 
 the end of those periods they were dead, but if 
 during those seven days or those four hours, they 
 had been cleverly glued on again, they would have 
 continued to live, 
 
 "This is the procedure employed by the 
 Hindoos, who thus restored to their places re- 
 integrated noses that had been cut off by way of 
 punishment, or if those appanages had been burnt, 
 
202 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 they replaced them by noses made of flesh and 
 skin, taken, my dear Nicolas, from another part 
 of the anatomy of the man who had been punished. 
 
 "The operation thus effected goes into the first 
 category of animal grafting, and consists in trans- 
 planting a part of the individual to himself. 
 
 "The second consists of joining together two 
 animals, by two wounds which coalesce. One can 
 then cut off from first, the fragment of his person 
 nearest the point of junction, which thereafter will 
 live upon the second. 
 
 "The third consists of transplanting, without 
 any attachment, a part of one animal to another 
 animal, always in such a way that it preserves its 
 own life. That is the most elegant way of the 
 three, and the one which has attracted me. 
 
 "The operation was regarded as a ticklish one, 
 for many reasons, the principal one of which is, 
 that a grafting is less likely to succeed the further 
 removed the two subjects are from one another in 
 the scale of relationship. 
 
 "Grafting succeeds when it is done on the same 
 animal; less well from father to son, and worse 
 and worse from brother to brother, from cousin 
 to cousin, from Frenchman to Spaniard, man 
 to woman, and child to old man. 
 
 "When I came on the scene, the exchange I am 
 talking about always came to naught in different 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 203 
 
 zoological families, and more so still in the case of 
 
 genera and species. 
 
 "However, some experiments are an exception 
 to this — experiments on which I have based my 
 own, wishing to accomplish the greater thing, be- 
 fore successfully accomplishing the lesser, and to 
 graft a fish on a bird before dealing with humanity 
 alone. I say a few experiments. 
 
 "i. Wiesmann tore from his arm a canary's 
 feather, which he had transplanted into it a month 
 before, and which left a little bleeding wound. 
 
 "2. Baronio has grafted the wing of a canary, 
 and the tail of a rat on the comb of a cock. 
 
 "This was not much, but Nature herself en- 
 couraged me. 
 
 "3. Birds cross without any shame, and produce 
 numerous hybrids, which bear witness to the possi- 
 bility of fusion between species. 
 
 "4. Then, getting further away from man, vege- 
 tables have considerable plastic force. 
 
 "Such, reduced to its simplest expression, is the 
 summary of the situation in the presence of which 
 I found myself, and on which I staked all. 
 
 "I came here to work more comfortably, and 
 almost immediately I performed remarkable oper- 
 ations, which became very famous. One more 
 especially. I wonder if you remember it? 
 
 "X, the Pickle-King, the American millionaire, 
 had only one ear, and desired to have a pair of 
 
204 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 them. A poor devil sold him one of his for five 
 thousand dollars. I performed the little cere- 
 mony. The grafted ear only died with X two 
 years later, when he succumbed to indigestion. 
 
 "It was then, when the world was applauding 
 my triumph, and just as the very moment when 
 love, having come on the scene, was urging me to 
 make money, in order that Emma should live a 
 life of luxury — it was just then that I conceived my 
 great idea, which proceeded from this reasoning: 
 
 "If a millionaire, dissatisfied with his physique, 
 pays five thousand dollars for the pleasure of em- 
 bellishing it a little, what would he not give for 
 changing it altogether, and acquire a new body for 
 his ego, for his brain — a covering full of grace, 
 vigor and youth, in place of an old sickly and re- 
 pulsive casing! 
 
 "On the other hand, how many beggars I know 
 would give up their magnificent anatomy for a 
 few years of jollification ! 
 
 "And observe, Nicolas, this purchase of a young 
 body would not only furnish advantages of supple- 
 ness, warmth and endurance, but also the enormous 
 advantage that in a youthful milieu, the trans- 
 ferred organs are rejuvenated. 
 
 "Oh ! I am not the first to advance this theory, 
 and Paul Bert, admitted the possibility of grafting 
 an organ on several consecutive bodies, as each of 
 these latter grow old, so that by a series of rejuve- 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 205 
 
 nations, he foresaw that one might make the same 
 stomach, the same brain live indefinitely — as an 
 integral part of successive constitutions. This 
 was tantamount to declaring that a personality can 
 live indefinitely, by a series of incarnations, in a 
 journ^ through different carcasses, each discarded 
 at the proper moment. 
 
 "The discovery to be made surpassed my hopes. 
 I was not only pursuing the choice of a pleasing 
 outward appearance — I had my hand on the secret 
 
 of IMMORTALITY ! ^ 
 
 "The brain being the seat of the ego (for you 
 know that the spinal cord is only a transmitter, and 
 a center of reflexes), the only question was abihty 
 to graft. 
 
 "Certainly the ear is one thing and the brain 
 another and yet this difference is only a question of 
 the degrees which separate : 
 
 "i. Cartilaginous matter from the nerve mat- 
 ter, and 
 
 "2. The accessory from the principal organ. 
 
 "Logic backed up my conviction, and my reason- 
 ing was based on famous premises officially 
 verified. 
 
 "i. Besides their grafts of mucous membrane, 
 skin, etc., in 1861, Phillippeaux and Vulpian re- 
 placed the nerve matter in an optic nerve. 
 
 "2. In 1880, Gluck exchanged a few centimeters 
 of sciatic nerve in a hen for a rabbit's nerves. 
 
2o6 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 "3. In 1890, Thompson removed a few cubic 
 centimeters of brain from dogs and cats, and into 
 the cavity thus obtained, introduced the same quan- 
 tity of cerebral substance taken from dogs and 
 cats, or from different species. Here we have 
 passed from cartilage to nerve, and from ear to 
 fragment of brain. 
 
 "Let us now turn to the difficulty of the second 
 order: 
 
 *'i. Gardeners often graft whole organisms. 
 
 "2. Besides fingers, tails and paws, Phillippeaux 
 and Mantegazza grafted rather important organs 
 — spleens, stomachs and tongues. They made a 
 hen into a cock as a joke, they even tried to graft 
 the pancreas and the thyroid. 
 
 "3. Carrel and Guthrey, in 1905, in New York, 
 came to believe that they can substitute the veins 
 of the arteries of animals for those of man. We 
 have bridged the distance between the accessory 
 and the principal. 
 
 "4. Finally, Mantegazza maintained that he 
 had grafted spinal cords and brains of frogs ! 
 
 "These examples were ample proof that my 
 projects were realizable, so I said to myself I 
 would realize them. 
 
 "I began my task. An obstacle was in the way I 
 "It being impracticable to employ an 'attach- 
 ment,' it resulted that the body and the brain, 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATIOiN 207 
 
 once separated, perished, one or other, or both, 
 before having been placed in contact with their 
 new companions. 
 
 "But here again facts gave me courage. So far 
 as the body is concerned : 
 
 "i. An animal can live quite well with one cere- 
 bral lobe. You saw a pigeon circling round, 
 which has been deprived of three-fourths of its 
 brain ! 
 
 "2. Often decapitated ducks fly for a hundred 
 yards from the block on which their severed head 
 remains. 
 
 "3. A locust lived for fifteen days without a 
 head — fifteen ! 
 
 "That Is an experiment duly attested. 
 
 "So far as the severed organ Is concerned, there 
 were these certified cases. 
 
 "This persuaded me that the brain and the body. 
 If properly treated, would be able to live, each 
 independently, for the few^ minutes of separation 
 which the work requires. However that may be, 
 the necessary slowness of trepanning induced me 
 as a rule to exchange not brains, but heads, having 
 learned from Brown Sequard that a dog's head In- 
 jected with oxyginated blood, had survived de- 
 capitation a quarter-of-an-hour. 
 
 "From this period date heteroclite creatures — a 
 donkey with a horse's head — a goat with a stag's 
 head — which I should like to have preserved, be- 
 
2o8 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 cause the beasts which composed them were some- 
 what distant from one another, although they 
 belonged to the same family — a distance which I 
 have never been able to increase by this means. 
 
 "Alas I on the night of your arrival, Wilhelm 
 left the doors open, and those monsters, worthy of 
 Dr. Moreau, escaped, with many other subjects 
 which were under observation. You may boast of 
 having come into Fonval like a bull into a china 
 shop ! 
 
 "I resume; but In order to avoid exhausting the 
 attention of a convalescent, I shall pass over, as 
 far as details are concerned, the abandonment of 
 this method, the discovery of the Lerne trepanner 
 with an ultra-rapid-circular-saw, that of the brain- 
 preserving globes or artificial meninges, that of 
 the ointment for joining nerves, the recognized 
 efficacy of the injection of morphia, approved of 
 by Broca, for contracting the blood vessels, and so 
 diminishing the loss of blood, the generally ac- 
 cepted employment of ether as an anesthetic, the 
 manipulation of brains for the purpose of fitting 
 them exactly to skulls, etc., etc. 
 
 "Thanks to all that, I exchanged the personali- 
 ties of a — ah, I can never remember that word — 
 squirrel and a wood-pigeon. That wasn't badl 
 Then that of a wren and a viper. Then that of a 
 carp and a blackbird — hot blood and cold blood. 
 It was perfect! 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 209 
 
 "In face of these prodigies, my aim, that of hu- 
 man substitution was mere child's play. 
 
 "At this juncture Karl and Wilhelm volunteered 
 to submit themselves to the convincing test. It 
 was quite epic. Otto Klotz had left me. Hum I 
 Macbeth was not to be trusted! I operated 
 alone, with the help of Johann and automatic 
 machines. 
 
 "Success! ah! what fine fellows! Who would 
 have imagined that whole bodies had been ampu- 
 tated? and yet, each of them, ever since that day, 
 lives in the carnal abode of his friend. Look!" 
 
 He summoned his assistants, and raising their 
 hair, showed the violet colored scar. 
 
 The two Germans smiled at one another, and 
 I could not prevent myself from admiring them. 
 
 Lerne went on : 
 
 "My fortune, then, was made, and at one stroke, 
 I was assuring my own and Emma's happiness, 
 and her love, which is my most inestimable pos- 
 session, Nicolas. 
 
 "But the discovery, one certain, had to be 
 applied. 
 
 "To tell the truth, one dark spot worried me. 
 I mean the influence of the moral side on the phys- 
 ical and vice versa. 
 
 "At the end of a few months my patients be- 
 came modified. If I had endowed their body with 
 a mentality finer than before, the latter ruined the 
 
2IO NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 former, and I have seen, amongst others, pigs with 
 a dog's brain become ill and thin, and die soon. 
 
 "On the other hand, intellects coarser than their 
 predecessors, allow themselves to be overcome by 
 the corporal part, and the composite animal then 
 becomes stupider and fatter. That is an invari- 
 able rule. 
 
 "Sometimes, also, the imperious flesh refashions 
 the mind according to the instincts of brutal 
 matter. 
 
 "One of my wolves, my dear nephew, installed 
 cruelty in the brain of a sheep ! But this draw- 
 back was bound, was it not, in the case of my fu- 
 ture clients — men — to reduce itself to slight in- 
 differences of health and character? It was not 
 worth thinking about, and it did not give me any 
 pause. 
 
 "Not caring to leave Macbeth vAth. Emma, I 
 sent him off to Scotland, and I set out towards 
 America — the land of audacity, of millions, and 
 of the grafted ear — as it seemed to me the best 
 soil to cultivate. 
 
 "That was two years ago. 
 
 "The day after my landing, I had thirty-five 
 rufiians at my disposal, who were resolved to part 
 with an impeccable bodily constitution, for the 
 benefit of any thirty-five millionaires I should get 
 to know, teach and convince. 
 
 "Check! 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 211 
 
 "I began with the most dreadful ones, and the 
 most unhealthy. 
 
 "Some called me a madman and showed me the 
 door. Others got angry, looking me majestically 
 up and down with displeasure in their eyes, thrust- 
 ing out very consumptive chests or flabby thoraxes ; 
 or they drew themselves to their full height on 
 their twisted legs and expressed astonishment that 
 anybody should think them ugly. 
 
 "Those who were dying were sure they would 
 get well — surer than that they would not collapse 
 under the ether. 
 
 "Some showed fear. 'It was tempting Provi- 
 dence !' They stood aloof from me as from the 
 Devil, and some of them would have sprinkled me 
 with Holy Water. 
 
 "It was no use my declaring, In answer to them, 
 that man is modified more completely in the course 
 of his life than they would change under my 
 lancet, and that religious doctrine has traveled 
 some way since 1670, when that Russian was ex- 
 communicated, for having had his skull mended 
 with a piece of a dog's bone. 
 
 "It was no use. 
 
 "Many sententlously remarked, 'One knows 
 what one has got — one does not know what one Is 
 getting.' 
 
 "Would you believe it ! The women nearly 
 saved me! Crowds of them aspired to become 
 
212 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 men. Fortunately, my blackguards — except one 
 or two — categorically refused to adopt the female 
 sex. 
 
 "In despair, I dangled before them the attrac- 
 tive prospect of a life prolonged indefinitely, re- 
 suming its course at each new incarnation. 
 
 " 'Life, replied the three-score-years-and-ten- 
 ners, is already too long, as God has limited it. 
 We desire nothing more than to die.' 
 
 " 'But I shall restore to you all your desires, at 
 the same time as your youth.' 
 
 " 'Thank you, the fate of desires is to remain 
 ungratified!' 
 
 "Amongst adults I often received this reply: 
 
 " 'The charm of acquired experience is worth 
 preserving from all things that might lessen that 
 experience, and let us not risk diminishing it 
 through the inexperienced rashness of adolescent 
 blood.' " 
 
 "There were some, however, who were ready to 
 imitate Faust, and sign the pact of youth, but all 
 these Nabobs I sounded offered me the same ob- 
 jection — the danger of the operation — the folly of 
 risking life in the desire to prolong life. 
 
 "To tell you the truth, Nicolas, the only people 
 who allow themselves to be operated on without 
 any qualms, are young people at the point of 
 death, and aware of their state. 
 
 "Understanding the necessity of overcoming the 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 213 
 
 danger they apprehended, I felt ready for new re- 
 searches — but greatly disillusioned, thencefor- 
 ward knowing that even were these rewarded by 
 a second discovery, my clients would be few, but 
 also aware that they would be sufficient to secure 
 me my fortune and happiness. But all this was 
 deferred till the Greek Calends. 
 
 "I came back to Fonval — bitter, silent, and with 
 rage in my heart. 
 
 "Emma and Donovan could not have found a 
 more implacable judge. I surprised them. I 
 took my revenge. You have guessed it, have you 
 not? Yesterday, the two Macbeths carried off 
 the brain of Nell, and the soul of Donovan is 
 lodged in the body of the St. Bernard 1 
 
 "The same punishment awaited both of you for 
 the same fault. Solomon could not have better 
 judged, nor Circe have better carried the sentence 
 into execution. 
 
 "Now, look here, nephew I I have worked at 
 what, but for your intrusion, and my need for 
 watching your acts, w^ould in a few daysj have been 
 the beginning of the interchange of personalities 
 without surgical intervention. 
 
 "I was wise enough, you see, not to give up my 
 vegetable grafting. I had even carried all its de- 
 velopments very far, and this training, supple- 
 
214 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 merited by my zoological experiments, constitutes 
 almost the whole curriculum of grafting. 
 
 "It was the combination of this science with 
 other sciences, which revealed the probable solu- 
 tion to me. 
 
 "People never generalize enough, Nicolas ! De- 
 voted to interminable subdivision, fanatical about 
 the infinitely little, which is always becoming infi- 
 nitely less, we have a mania for analysis. We live 
 with our eyes glued to microscopes. In half our in- 
 vestigations we should employ another instrument 
 to show things as wholes — an apparatus of optical 
 synthesis — a synoptic telescope, or if you prefer to 
 call it so, a megaloscope, 
 
 "I foresee a colossal discovery! And to think 
 that but for Emma, I should have disdained finan- 
 cial rewards and never aspired to wealth I So 
 that love caused ambition, and ambition brought 
 glory ! 
 
 "Apropos of this, nephew, you very nearly put 
 on the features of Professor Lerne ! Yes, she 
 adored you with such a fine ardor, nephew, that I 
 thought of disguising my appearance by assuming 
 with your features, in order to be loved in your 
 place. . . . 
 
 "That would have been the very best revenge, 
 and very piquant, but I have still need, for some 
 time, of my antique and awkward carcass. Later 
 on we shall see about getting rid of this old 
 
THE CIRCEEAN OPERATION 215 
 
 trumpery frame. Is not your captivating appear- 
 ance always at my disposal?" 
 
 At those sarcastic words, my weeping was 
 redoubled. 
 
 My uncle went on, affecting consideration for 
 me. 
 
 "Ah I I am abusing your courage, my dear 
 patient. Have a rest. The satisfaction of your 
 curiosity will give you, I hope, a refreshing sleep. 
 
 "Ah! I was forgetting! Do not be astonished 
 if the world appears to you other than it was 
 . . . Amongst other novelties, things must be seen 
 by you as flat as in a photograph. That is be- 
 cause you look at things only with one eye at a 
 time, so that one might say — using the terms jocu- 
 larly, that many animals are only double one-eyed 
 things. Their sight is not steroscopic. Other 
 eyes — other phenomena. 
 
 "New ear-drums, other sounds, and so on! 
 
 "Amongst men, themselves, each one has his 
 manner of appreciating things. Habit teaches us, 
 for example, that we must call a certain color red, 
 but a man who calls it red receives from it a green 
 impression — that is a common occurrence, and an- 
 other, an impression of olive or dark blue." 
 
 "Well, good-night!" 
 
 No, my curiosity was not satisfied, but I realized 
 that that was so without being able to fix the 
 
2i6 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 points which my uncle had not made clear, for my 
 awful experience overwhelmed me with anguish, 
 and the Circeean operation left me impregnated 
 with ether, whose penetrating vapors upset in me 
 the man's understanding and the bull's stomach. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 IN THE PADDOCK 
 
 During the eight days of my convalescence in 
 the laboratory, nursed and kept quiet, and treated 
 with drugs, I underwent the alternation of great 
 sorrows; fits of despair each followed by a col- 
 lapse. Every time I slept I thought I had dreamt 
 this calamity. 
 
 Now, it must be observed that the sensations 
 at my awakening confirmed me in this error, which 
 was, however, immediately dissipated. 
 
 It is well known that those who have had a 
 limb amputated, suffer a great deal, and refer 
 their suffering to the extreme periphery of the 
 severed nerves, that is to say, to the limb which 
 they have lost, and which they think they still 
 possess. 
 
 The severed limb, or arm, hurts them. If one 
 reflects that I had had my whole body cut off, one 
 will understand that I suffered in all its parts — 
 in my distant hands, in my human feet; and that 
 this pain seemed proof positive of the possession 
 of that of which I had been deprived. 
 
 217 
 
2i8 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 This phenomenon grew gradually less distinct, 
 and finally disappeared. 
 
 Grief went from me less quickly. Those who 
 have entertained others with the recital of tricks 
 of this sort — Homer, Ovid, Apuleius, and Per- 
 rault, did not know what tragedies their fictions 
 would become, once they became realities. 
 
 What a drama there is really in Lucian's "Ass" I 
 What a martyrdom for me this week of dieting 
 and enforced inaction ! 
 
 Dead to humanity, I awaited with terror the 
 tortures of vivisection, or the premature old age 
 which would be the end of everything, before five 
 years were out. 
 
 In spite of my despair, I got well. Lerne hav- 
 ing ascertained this, I was turned out into the 
 paddock. 
 
 Europa, Athor, and lo gamboled in front of 
 me. Many long days were to pass before I could 
 make them accustomed to me. Long days, and 
 all a man's cunning employed in the task. 
 
 A good bout of kicking finally subjugated them. 
 
 This incident would be a fit theme for deep 
 philosophizing, and I should succumb to the temp- 
 tation to hold forth, were it not that such dis- 
 sertations are an awkward interruption of the 
 course of a story. 
 
 For the time being, annoyed at the welcome 
 with which the three horned ladies received me, 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 219 
 
 and only desiring their favors with the ardor of 
 a valetudinarian, I began peacefully to browse 
 on the grass of the meadow. 
 
 Here begins the most interesting period — that 
 of my observations on my new condition. They 
 occupied me so completely, that I began to con- 
 sider the bull's body as a moveable dwelling — an 
 exile's home, no doubt, but an unexplored, be- 
 wildering place, full of surprises, from which 
 chance would perhaps deliver me — for as soon 
 as a place is merely not unpleasing, one immedi- 
 ately feels the risk of being driven from it. 
 
 As long as this accommodation of my man's 
 mind to the organs of the beast lasted, I was 
 really fairly happy. 
 
 The fact was that a new world was just being 
 revealed to me, together with the taste of the 
 simple herbs on which I was feeding. Just as 
 my eyes, my ears and my muzzle sent to my brain 
 visions, sounds, and smells hitherto unimagined, 
 my tongue with its strange papilla was bound to 
 afford me very original sensations of taste. 
 
 Simple herbs gave a savor of which human 
 palates have no idea. The cuisine of the epicure 
 cannot possibly give them as much pleasure with 
 twelve courses, as a bull gets in a small meadow. 
 
 I could not refrain from comparing the taste 
 of my fodder with that of my former food. There 
 is more difference between lucern and clover than 
 
220 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 between a fried sole and a rib of venison with 
 sauce chasseud. 
 
 Plants have all sorts of tastes for the mouth 
 of a graminivorous animal. 
 
 The buttercup is rather insipid, the thistle 
 rather peppery, but nothing equals fragrant and 
 many-flavored hay. Pastures are a continually 
 spread feast to which hunger impels their deni- 
 zens to devote themselves. 
 
 The water of the trough changed in taste, 
 according to the time and the weather. At one 
 time acidulous — at another time salt or sweet. 
 Light in the morning, and syrupy in the evening. 
 
 I cannot describe the delight of drinking it, and 
 I think that the lamented Olympians, in their 
 vindictive and jocular testimentary disposition, 
 leaving men only the power of laughter, left as 
 a legacy to other animals the tasting of ambrosia 
 in the grass of the lawns and the drinking of 
 nectar at every fountain. 
 
 I was initiated into the delights of chewing the 
 cud, and I understood the placid moods of those 
 grave epicures, the oxen, during the activity of 
 their four stomachs, when, with the scents of the 
 fields, a whole pastoral symphony fills their 
 nostrils. 
 
 By dint of experimenting with my senses, and 
 testing my faculties, I obtained strange impres- 
 sions. The best memory that remains to me is 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 221 
 
 that of my muzzle — that tactile center — that 
 Invaluable and subtle touchstone of good and bad 
 grains — that warner of an enemy's approach — 
 that pilot and councilor — that sort of authorita- 
 tive and dogmatic consciousness — that oracle of 
 yes and no, which never fails, and Is always 
 obeyed. 
 
 It Is a question If the god Jupiter, when he put 
 on the form of a bull, for the benefit of the 
 Princess Europa, was not more charmed by his 
 muzzle, than with all the rest of that scandalous 
 escapade. 
 
 It was wise of me to establish these facts 
 straight away, for soon, as my health failed, I 
 lost the calm., without which accuracy of observa- 
 tion Is Impossible, as well as the desire to con- 
 tinue them. I suffered from attacks of headache, 
 colds, toothache — the whole sequence of Indis- 
 positions which citizens of the twentieth century 
 are heirs to. 
 
 I grew thin. Dismal Ideas haunted me. 
 
 The cause of it was, first, the predominance of 
 the soul over the body, which my uncle had men- 
 tioned, and secondly, two Incidents which immedi- 
 ately aggravated my malady. 
 
 After a disappearance, due, I presume to an 
 Illness following on her great fright, I saw Emma 
 again. 
 
 Without feeling any emotion, I saw her at the 
 
222 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 windows of her room, then at those of the ground 
 jBoor, and finally outside. She came out every 
 day, leaning on the servant's arm, and went round 
 the park, avoiding the laboratory, where Lerne 
 and his assistants were steadily working. 
 
 I had expected features less drawn, and eyes 
 less red. 
 
 She walked along slowly — pale, and with fixed 
 eyes — displaying to the sun her moonlight com- 
 plexion, and eyes like those one opens on the 
 night. 
 
 A pathetic widow, she let one see, with a 
 certain nobility, the revolt of her love in Its 
 mourning, and the keenness of her regrets. 
 
 So, she still loved me, and not seeing me any 
 more, supposed my fate to have been that which 
 she imagined for Klotz, and not the destiny of 
 Macbeth (which, however, she had misappre- 
 hended). In her thought, I could only be dead, 
 or a fugitive. The real truth escaped her. 
 
 Each day, with greater affection, I followed 
 her on her walks, as long as I could. Separated 
 from her by barbed wire, I attempted mimicry 
 and words, but Emma was afraid of the bull — 
 its little leaps, and its lowing. She understood 
 nothing, any more than I had understood about 
 Donovan from the capers of the dog. 
 
 Sometimes, when in my attempts to make too 
 human a gesture I stumbled In my quadrupedal 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 223 
 
 way, the girl was amused at it, and I found myself 
 stumbling intentionally, in order to see her smile. 
 
 Thus love by degrees resumed its torturing 
 sway. 
 
 It could not return unaccompanied by jealousy, 
 and the latter also hastened the progress of my 
 languor. 
 
 It was jealousy, but attended with an extra- 
 ordinary sentiment! 
 
 There stood between the paddock and the pond 
 that hexagonal summerhouse which had been the 
 Giant Briareus. 
 
 Lerne inflicted on me the annoyance of lodging 
 my former body in it. I saw his assistants bring 
 In some elementary furniture, and then the crea- 
 ture itself — and ever since that day, there he was, 
 with his forehead glued to the windows, and 
 stupidly watching me. 
 
 His hair was growing again. His beard was 
 sprouting. Now heavy and chubby, his person 
 was bursting through his clothes. 
 
 His eye — that almond eye, of which I had been 
 so proud — was now becoming a round ox's eye. 
 
 The man with the bull's brain was assuming the 
 expression which I had remarked in Donovan, but 
 more bestial still, and less good-natured. 
 
 My poor body had reserved the habit of certain 
 familiar gestures. An incorrigible trick made it 
 shrug its shoulders now and then, so that the 
 
224 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 wretched creature seemed to be laughing at me 
 from the windows of the summerhouse. 
 
 He often would shout out in the dusk of 
 evening. 
 
 My beautiful baritone voice was distorted into 
 discordant clamors — into the yells of a gorilla. 
 
 Then, in the laboratory, Macbeth would howl, 
 with his poor canine throat, and the irresistible 
 need of making my own lamentations heard, 
 filled the valley of Fonval with the sounds of a 
 monstrous trio. 
 
 Emma perceived that the summerhouse was In- 
 habited. That day she and Barbe were walking 
 round the paddock. I had, as usual, accompanied 
 them to a certain little wood which was crossed 
 by the road, and I awaited them at the entrance 
 of that avenue where the doves were cooing. 
 
 They came out of it and then they suddenly 
 paused. 
 
 Emma was transfigured. She had taken on 
 that animated expression which I knew of old — 
 quivering nostrils — eyes half shut, and her bosom 
 heaving. She pressed Barbe's arm. 
 
 "Nicolas," she murmured, "Nicolas. There, 
 there! Do you see nothing?" 
 
 And whilst amongst the leafage the turtle-doves 
 faintly cooed, Emma pointed out to Barbe the 
 creature in the summerhouse, behind his window. 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 225 
 
 Having assured herself that she was not seen 
 from the laboratory, Emma made some signals, 
 and flung kisses. The creature had excellent rea- 
 sons for not understanding anything, but opened 
 his round eyes, dropped his jaw, and turned my 
 former integument which I now so greatly re- 
 gretted into a type of perfect imbecility. 
 
 "Mad," said Emma, "he, too! Lerne has made 
 him mad, like Macbeth." 
 
 Then the kind-hearted girl sobbed with all her 
 heart, and I felt anger rising in me. 
 
 "Now, remember," said the servant, "above all 
 things, do not go near that summerhouse, it is 
 overlooked on all sides." 
 
 The other shook her beautiful locks, dried her 
 tears, and lying down on the grass in the attitude 
 of a sphinx, with her head in her hands, and her 
 body curved, she gazed, for a long time affection- 
 ately, on that young figure whom she had loved 
 so much. 
 
 The brute beast seemed to take more interest 
 in this pose than in her former gestures. 
 
 A scene like this went beyond the bounds of 
 the grotesque and horrible. That woman in love 
 with my form — the form in which I no longer 
 lived ! That woman whom I adored, in love with 
 a beast! How to accept such a thing with 
 equanimity? 
 
 My anger exploded. This was the first time 
 
226 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 that I experienced the domination of my ardent 
 bodily constitution. Mad with rage, blowing and 
 snorting and foaming, I dashed over the meadow 
 in all directions, and tore at the ground with my 
 horns and hoofs, in the wild desire to kill some- 
 body no matter whom. 
 
 From that time on, hatred poisoned my day- 
 dreams — ferocious hatred against this super- 
 natural brute — this ridiculous Minotaur who 
 turned all the forest of Broceliande with its forest 
 labyrinth into a comical Crete. 
 
 I cursed that body which had been stolen 
 from me. I was jealous of it, and often when 
 Jupiter — I and I — Jupiter looked at one another, 
 both victims of our cast-off bodies, fury seized 
 me once more. I charged about wildly, bellowing 
 like a bull in the ring, with my tail in the air — my 
 nostrils smoking — my head down, ready for 
 murder, and desiring it as one longs for love in 
 the springtime. 
 
 The cows warded me off as best they could. All 
 the beasts feared the mad bull. One day, Lerne, 
 passing that way, took to his heels. 
 
 Life weighed heavily on me. I had exhausted 
 all the pleasures of observation, and my new 
 dwelling-place only occasioned me distress and 
 repugnance. 
 
 I got thinner and thinner. The pasturage lost 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 227 
 
 its savor. The spring was tasteless, and the com- 
 pany of the heifers became odious to me. 
 
 On the other hand, old desires imposed them- 
 selves on me like morbid whims — a desire to eat 
 meat, and quaintest of all, the craving to smoke 1 
 
 But other considerations were not so laugh- 
 able. Fear of the laboratory made me tremble 
 every time that an assistant came near the pad- 
 dock, and I could not sleep for fear lest I should 
 be bound during the night. 
 
 And that was not all ! I was haunted by the 
 conviction that my ox's brain would go mad. My 
 attacks of uncontrollable wrath might bring on 
 madness, and they became more frequent, for the 
 conduct of Emma was not calculated to mitigate 
 them. 
 
 Can the face of a savage murderer be the face 
 of love, and can one be astonished that so many 
 sweethearts close their eyes when the god kisses 
 them? 
 
 So Emma looked with pleasure at the hideous 
 Minotaur, and did not perceive Lerne, who was 
 on the watch, laughing in his sleeves at her 
 mistake. 
 
 Yes, laughing, but in the philosophical way, in 
 order not to weep ! My uncle was obviously 
 suffering. He seemed to have grasped that 
 Emma would never love him, and the Professor 
 took his disillusionment ill. 
 
228 NEW BODIES FOR OLD . 
 
 He was growing old, and killing himself with 
 work. 
 
 On the terrace of the laboratory and on the 
 roof of the chateau, some machines had been in- 
 stalled whose handling interested me very much. 
 They were surmounted with characteristic anten- 
 ncB, and as electric bells were continually ringing 
 in the recesses of the two buildings, my opinion 
 was that they had been transformed into wireless 
 telegraphy and telephone stations. 
 
 One morning Lerne made a little boat dart 
 about on the pond — a toy torpedo-boat. He 
 directed it from the shore with the help of an 
 apparatus, which also was fitted with feelers. 
 
 Tele-mechanics — it was certain ! The Pro- 
 fessor was studying how to make communications 
 at a distance without any tangible intermediary. 
 Was this a new method for the introversion of 
 personalities? Perhaps it was. 
 
 I lost interest in the matter. A happy issue out 
 of my afflictions now seemed to me an impossible 
 miracle. I should never learn this future dis- 
 covery, nor all the secrets which were a blot on 
 the past of my uncle and his companions. 
 
 It was, however, by meditating on those last 
 mysteries, that I beguiled the torturing insomnia 
 of my nights, and my idleness by day, but I could 
 make nothing of it. It may be the case, indeed, 
 that my mind was dulled, for there were, amongst 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 229 
 
 the daily occurrences which I have just narrated, 
 some that it could not retain — to which some con- 
 fidences on Lerne's part gave capital significance, 
 and the rational examination of which would have 
 made me hope for deliverance. 
 
 And so, about mid-September, this deliverance 
 was brought about without my having guessed 
 anything, and in the following circumstances: 
 
 For some time past the friendship of the 
 Minotaur and Emma had grown stronger. The 
 monster, now accustomed to my body, began to 
 make gestures. 
 
 One afternoon, while I was endeavoring to see 
 my mistress through the bushes where she was 
 watching the false Nicolas, there was a sudden 
 noise of smashed and falling glass. 
 
 The Minotaur had dashed through the window 
 of the summerhouse ! Without in the least heed- 
 ing my unfortunate body, he dashed up, cut, 
 slashed, and bleeding, with roars of fury. 
 
 Emma shrieked, and tried to make off, but the 
 creature had disappeared into the little wood. 
 
 I then heard behind me the noise of people 
 running. At the sound of the broken windows, 
 Lerne and his assistants had come out of the 
 laboratory. They had seen the escape, and were 
 making at full speed for the fatal wood. 
 
 Unfortunately, the assistants were afraid of my 
 proximity, and the detour which they were making 
 
230 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 to avoid me, outside the paddock, would delay 
 them. 
 
 Lerne had boldy taken a short cut, climbed 
 over the wire, and was hurrying to the middle of 
 the enclosure, with his coat torn by the artificial 
 thorns. 
 
 Alas ! he was old and slow ! They would 
 arrive — all of them, too late ! 
 
 I dashed at the frail barrier, broke it down, 
 and smashed and crashed through it, in spite of 
 the little chevaux de frise which lacerated my 
 skin. 
 
 I was over the wall of greenery in a moment, 
 at a jump. The sun, through the vault of leaves, 
 was dappling the underwood with its rays, and 
 there, on the edge of the forest road I saw Emma 
 lying — the Minotaur gloating over her. 
 
 I had no leisure for a longer look. In a 
 moment, all my maddened blood was in my head, 
 and goaded by an indomitable wrath I dashed 
 ahead with my horns down. 
 
 I struck something which fell. I trod it under 
 my four hoofs, and with my back to my victim, I 
 kicked, and kicked, and kicked ! 
 
 Suddenly the voice of my uncle, gasped : 
 
 "Hallo! hallo! hallo! you are killing your- 
 self!" 
 
 My madness vanished — the stars went out, and 
 everything reappeared. 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 231 
 
 The beautiful girl, awaking, blinked her eyes, 
 without understanding anything. 
 
 The assistants watched me, each behind a tree, 
 and Lerne, leaning over my form, which was inert 
 and dislocated, raised Its head. In which a large 
 hole was bleeding, and It was I ! I ! who had 
 committed the mad act of injuring myself! 
 
 The Professor, who was feeling the victim all 
 over, gave us his diagnosis: 
 
 "One arm dislocated, three ribs broken, frac- 
 ture of the left clavicle and tibia. One recovers 
 from that, but the kick on the head — Ah ! that's 
 more serious. Hm! the brain is beaten to a pulp 
 — it Is destroyed — all will be over In half-an-hour. 
 Finita la Comvicdia! 
 
 I had to put my shoulder up against a tree, to 
 save myself from falling. So my body, my coun- 
 try of countries, was going to die ! It was all 
 over! Now, for ever banished from my ruined 
 dwelling. I had destroyed the first condition of 
 my deliverance. It was all over. Lerne himself 
 could do nothing; he had admitted as much. In 
 half an hour all would be over! 
 
 But this brain ! Perhaps he could. . . . Yes, 
 he could do anything! Yes! 
 
 I drew near him. It was my last chance. 
 
 My uncle, who had turned to the girl, was 
 speaking with grief In his voice. 
 
 "How you must have loved him, to love him 
 
232 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 still in his pitiable condition. My dear Emma, 
 am I so little lovable, that you prefer such a 
 wreck to me?" 
 
 Emma was weeping in her hands. How she 
 must love him, looking turn by turn at the Pro- 
 fessor, the dying creature and at me. How she 
 must love him I 
 
 For the last few moments I had been dancing 
 about with a sort of little steps, and more or less 
 musical sounds, which were meant to translate 
 my thought. My uncle pursued the train of his. 
 
 Without remarking that his cloudy brow must 
 be hiding some stormy conflict of interests and 
 passions, and dominated by the imminence of a 
 catastrophe which he alone could ward off, I 
 redoubled entreaties. 
 
 "Yes, I understand your desire, Nicolas," said 
 my uncle. "You want to give back your brain to 
 its former envelope, which would thus be saved, 
 since you have made Jupiter's brain an impossi- 
 bility. Well, so be it !" 
 
 "Oh, save him, save him," cried Emma, who 
 had only grasped that one word. "Save him I 
 I swear to you, Frederic, I swear never to see him 
 again." 
 
 "Enough, enough," said Lerne. "On the con- 
 trary you must love him with all your strength. 
 I no longer wish to grieve you. Why struggle 
 against destiny?" 
 
IN THE PADDOCK 233 
 
 He summoned his assistants, and gave them 
 some brief orders. Karl and Wilhelm seized the 
 Minotaur, who was moaning. 
 
 Johann had set off to make preparations, as 
 hard as he could. 
 
 "Schnell, schnell !" said the Professor, and he 
 added, "Quick, Nicolas, follow us!" 
 
 I obeyed, my mind half filled with the joy at 
 recovering my body, and half filled with fear lest 
 it should die before the operation. 
 
 The operation was a great success. 
 However, deprived of the attentions which 
 should have preceded the administration of the 
 anesthetic, and which the urgency of the case 
 did not allow them to give us, I lived an instruc- 
 tive but painful dream under the influence of 
 ether. 
 
 It lasted, perhaps a quarter of a second — just 
 enough to let me feel the tooth of some scratchy 
 saw, or the edge of some badly sharpened lancet. 
 
 The sunset was filling the washhouse with a 
 rosy half-light. Through my lowered eyelids I 
 perceived my mustache. 
 
 This was the resurrection of Nicolas Vermont. 
 
 It was also the end of Jupiter. They were 
 carving up, at the end of the room, that black 
 mass in which I had sojourned. 
 
 In the courtyard the dogs were quarreling for 
 
234 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 the first bits that Johann had flung to them. My 
 bones were aching. 
 
 Lerne was watching by my side. He was quite 
 joyful, as well he might be. Was he not at peace 
 with his conscience? Had he not atoned for his 
 wrongs to me? How could I feel rancor to- 
 wards him? It even seemed to me that I owed 
 him a certain debt of gratitude. 
 
 So true is it, that nothing seems so great a 
 benefit as the reparation of a wrong done. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 LERNE CHANGES HIS METHOD OF ATTACK 
 
 When I was in the black hide of the bull, I 
 had sworn to myself, if my original shape were 
 ever restored to me, to flee away at once, with 
 or without Emma ; and yet the autumn was grow- 
 ing old, and I had not yet left Fonval. 
 
 The fact was, my treatment was now the exact 
 reverse of what it had been. To begin with, I 
 disposed of my time as I liked. 
 
 The first use that I made of that liberty was 
 to go to the shambles in the forest-clearing, and 
 there efface all traces of my visit. A favoring 
 god had not decreed that during the time I had 
 lived a bucolic life in the meadow, somebody 
 should come there, and the assistants should 
 remark the violation of the sepulcher. 
 
 Either they had changed their cemetery, or my 
 uncle no longer dissected anything, except tiny 
 creatures, of which the dogs left no trace, or else 
 experiments in animd vili were completely 
 abandoned. 
 
 Let me say that I proved to my satisfaction a 
 detail which lifted a great weight from my heart. 
 
 235 
 
236 NEW BODIES FOE OLD 
 
 I had been afraid that the soul of the unhappy 
 Klotz had been transferred into some animal care- 
 fully kept in hiding; but his remains themselves, 
 although marvelously recalling Baudelaire's 
 famous poem, refuted me. The brain of the dead 
 man, marked as It was with numerous and deep 
 sinuosities, still visible, whilst bearing witness to 
 his humanity, was proof of a murder pure and 
 simple, thank Heaven ! 
 
 So I enjoyed a large measure of freedom, and 
 besides, an affectionate and repentant Lerne had 
 shown himself at my bedside while I was con- 
 valescent. Oh, not the Lerne of long ago, the 
 companion of my Aunt LIdivine; no, but he was 
 no longer the grim and bloodthirsty host, who 
 had received me in the manner in which one shows 
 people the door. 
 
 When he saw me up and about, my uncle 
 brought Emma in, and said to her in my presence, 
 that I was cured of a passing touch of lunacy, and 
 that she might now adore me as much as she 
 liked. 
 
 "For my part," he continued, "I give up emo- 
 tions no longer suitable to my age. You shall 
 have Emma. All I ask of you is not to leave me. 
 A sudden solitude would increase my distress, 
 which you can easily understand, and which both 
 of you will pardon. This distress will pass. 
 Work will get the better of it. Do not be afraid, 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 237 
 
 my dear; the chief part of my profit shall be for 
 you I Nothing has been changed with regard to 
 that, and Nicolas shall be mentioned in the 
 partnership deed and in my will. You may love 
 one another in peace." 
 
 With these words he went off to his electrical 
 machines. 
 
 Emma showed no astonishment at anything. 
 Trustful and simpleminded, she had accepted my 
 uncle's speech with a clapping of hands. 
 
 I, knowing him to be an actor, might have told 
 myself that he was feigning kindness, in order 
 to keep me in the house; that either he was afraid 
 of what I might reveal or that he was hatching 
 some new project; but the two Circeean opera- 
 tions had rather troubled my memory and my 
 reasoning powers. 
 
 "Why," said I to myself, "why doubt this man, 
 who has, of his own free will, rescued me from the 
 most awful position? He perseveres in the good 
 way, and all is for the best." 
 
 At the sight of my laborious and domesticated 
 Professor, who could have believed in his victims, 
 and in a trap which he had laid for me, in the 
 assassination of Klotz, in the distress of Nell? 
 She never ceased her bowlings to the stars, suffer- 
 ing from the troubles which I had endured; for 
 she was still there, and it puzzled me that Lerne 
 should continue the punishment of a fault which 
 
238 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 must appear much less now that Emma no longer 
 interested him. 
 
 I resolved to confide in my uncle. 
 
 "Nicolas," he said, "you have put your finger 
 on my greatest anxiety, but what is to be done? 
 In order to reestablish the right order of things 
 in this affair, it is absolutely necessary that the 
 body of Macbeth should com.e back here. By 
 what stratagem are we to persuade his father to 
 send him back? Try to find one. Help me. I 
 promise to act without delay as soon as one or 
 the other of us has found a solution." 
 
 This reply had dissipated my last feelings of 
 dislike. I did not ask myself why Lerne had 
 metamorphosed himself so as to give in so easily 
 and quickly. 
 
 My belief was that the Professor had at last 
 been restored to wisdom; and in default of the 
 other virtues, which would no doubt appear in 
 due order, his rectitude of long ago seemed to 
 me to be born again, rectitude which was as great 
 as the erudition which had never abandoned him, 
 and as evident as it was. 
 
 And Lerne's erudition was almost inexhaustible. 
 Each day I was more and more convinced of it. 
 
 We resumed our walks, and he profited by them 
 to discourse learnedly about everything we came 
 across — a leaf led him on to botany, entomology 
 was suggested by a beetle ; a drop of rain let loose 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 239 
 
 upon my admiration a deluge of chemistry, and 
 when we had got to the edge of the forest, I had 
 heard from Lerne's lips the lecturing of a whole 
 collegeful of dons. 
 
 But, it was there, at the edge of the woods and 
 fields that one should have seen him. After the 
 last tree had been passed, he never failed to stop, 
 hauled himself up to the top of a boundary stone, 
 and held forth concerning the Universe, in pres- 
 ence of the plains and the heavens. 
 
 He described things so ingeniously, that one 
 could believe one saw Nature unfold and open to 
 the very depths of the earth, and to the very ends 
 of Infinity. 
 
 His words knew equally well how to dig into 
 the hills to lay bare the strata of the soil, as to 
 bring near to us, the better to discourse about 
 them, the invisible planets. 
 
 He knew how to analyze the vapor of the 
 clouds, as well as to show the origin of the cold 
 wind — to evoke prehistoric landscapes, and to 
 prove in the same way the unending future of the 
 countryside. 
 
 He roamed in spirit with his eyes over the 
 Immense panorama, from the hut near at hand, 
 to those wide horizons — the distant tints of blue. 
 
 In a few words each thing was defined, ex- 
 plained, and illuminated by commentary, and as 
 he made sweeping gestures to every point of the 
 
240 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 compass, to draw attention now to a river, and 
 now to a steeple, his outspread arms seemed to 
 lengthen into rays, like those of a lighthouse, 
 which sheds its long protecting beams over the 
 countryside. 
 
 The return to Fonval usually took place in less 
 scientific circumstances. My uncle continued his 
 speculations which he would keep to himself, as- 
 suming them, 1 suppose, to be too abstruse for my 
 intelligence, and he hummed as he went along, 
 his favorite air, which I suppose he had learnt 
 from one of his assistants, "Rum fit dum." 
 
 Once we got back, he hastened to the labora- 
 tory, or the hothouse. 
 
 We varied these walks with expeditions in the 
 motor-car, and then my uncle put himself astride 
 another hobby-horse. He classed my vehicle in 
 its rank amongst animal categories, showed the 
 creatures of to-day, of yesterday, and of to- 
 morrow, among which, no doubt, the automobile 
 would take its place, and this prophecy finished 
 up with a warm panegyric of my 80 h.p. 
 
 He wanted to learn how to drive the engine. It 
 was an easy business. In three lessons I made 
 him a past master. He always drove now, and I 
 did not complain, as ever since the two severings 
 and two re-joinings of the optic nerves, any long 
 strain tired my eyes. 
 
 My left ear had not yet recovered all the sensi- 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 241 
 
 bility one could have wished, but I did not dare 
 to talk about it to Lerne for fear of adding one 
 more to the many remorseful thoughts that 
 seemed to haunt him. 
 
 It was at the end of one of those pleasure trips 
 that I happened, in cleaning my car — a thing I 
 had to do myself — to find between the back and 
 the cushion of Lerne's seat, a little note-book 
 which had slipped from his pocket. I put it away 
 In mine, with the Intention of restoring it to him. 
 
 My curiosity got the better of me. On regain- 
 ing my room, and without rejoining the Professor, 
 I examined my find. It was a diary crammed 
 full of rapid notes and figures sketched in pencil. 
 It resembled the daily record of some research — 
 a laboratory journal. 
 
 The figures conveyed no meaning to my eyes. 
 The text was composed mainly of German terms 
 (more especially) and French ones, too. The 
 terms seemed to be chosen in either language, as 
 inspiration directed. The ensemble did not have 
 any meaning for me. However, I discovered a 
 piece of less chaotic literature dated the day be- 
 fore, In which I thought I could recognize a 
 resume of the preceding pages; and the fact of 
 my understanding some French words, and the 
 sense which they assumed (once they were put 
 
242 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 together) awoke in me both an inveterate detec- 
 tive and a new-born linguist. 
 
 Among such words were the following sub- 
 stantives, connected by German words: "trans- 
 mission of thought," "electricity," "brains," 
 "batteries." 
 
 With the help of a dictionary which I stole 
 from my uncle's room, I deciphered this sort of 
 cryptogram, in which, fortunately, the same ex- 
 pressions frequently recurred. Here is a transla- 
 tion of it — I give it for what it is worth, unfitted 
 as I am for this task, and driven to haste as I was 
 by the necessity of restoring the note-book as soon 
 as possible : 
 
 "Conclusions dated the 30th: Aim pursued: 
 Exchange of personalities without exchange of 
 brains. . . . Basis of research: Ancient experi- 
 ments have proved that everybody possesses a 
 soul; for the soul and the life are inseparable, and 
 all organisms, between their birth and death, 
 enjoy a more or less developed soul according as 
 they are higher or lower in the scale of existence. 
 Thus, from man to moss, passing through the 
 polypi, each living being has its own soul. Do not 
 plants sleep, breathe and digest? Why should 
 they not think? 
 
 "This proves that there is a soul where there is 
 no brain. 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 243 
 
 "So the soul and the brain are Independent of 
 one another. 
 
 "Consequently, souls can be exchanged with one 
 another without the brains being exchanged . . . 
 
 "Experiments in Transmission. 
 
 "Thought is the electricity of which our brains 
 are the batteries or the accumulators — I do not 
 know yet; but what is certain, is that the trans- 
 mission of the mental fluid takes place in a man- 
 ner analogous to that of the electric fluid. 
 
 "The experiment of the 4th proves that 
 thought is transmitted by conductors. That of 
 the loth, that it is transmitted without conductors, 
 on the ether waves. 
 
 "Subsequent experiments have shown a weak 
 spot which I now set down. 
 
 "A soul which is projected into an organism 
 unknown to this latter, compresses, so to speak, 
 a soul which is there, without being able to expel 
 it; the projected soul — the soul which has broken 
 loose from the body — is itself kept bound to its 
 organism by a sort of inexplicable mental 'attach- 
 ment,' which nothing up till now has been able to 
 cut. 
 
 "If the two beings are consenting, the recipro- 
 cal transmission fails for the same reason. 
 The major part of each soul re-installs itself per- 
 fectly well in the organism of its partner, but the 
 troublesome mental 'attachment' prevents each of 
 
244 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 them from completely quitting the body from 
 which it is striving to detach itself. 
 
 "The simpler the recipient organism is rela- 
 tively to the transmitting organism, the more soul 
 can this latter project into a receptacle, which con- 
 tains so little of it in the beginning, and the thin- 
 ner, so to speak, becomes the 'attachment' which 
 keeps fast the mind in the transmitting body, but 
 it always exists. 
 
 "On the 20th I projected myself, mentally, in- 
 side Johann — on the 22nd I invaded a cat, on 
 the 24th an ash tree. 
 
 "Access has become easier and easier, and the 
 invasion more and more complete, but the 'attach- 
 ment' remains. 
 
 "I thought the experiment would succeed on 
 a corpse because there was no fluid to encumber 
 the receptacle to be filled. I had not reflected 
 that death is not compatible with a soul — that 
 inseparable companion of life itself. I did not 
 get any results, and the sensation is abominable. 
 
 "Theoretically, in order that the 'attachment' 
 should be suppressed, what is required? A re- 
 ceiving organism, which should have no soul at 
 all (in order that one may lodge one's own 
 entirely), and yet which should not be dead, and 
 in other terms, an orgatiized life which has never 
 lived. That is impossible. 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 245 
 
 "So, in practice, our efforts must tend to the 
 suppression of the 'attachment' by means of 
 artifices, which I do not yet perceive. . . . 
 
 "Not but what the experiments of this period 
 have yielded curious results, since we have arrived 
 at the following demonstrable conclusions: 
 
 "(i) The human brain can discharge itself 
 almost entirely into a plant. 
 
 "(2) From man to man, with jnutual consent, 
 the passage of personality is accom- 
 plished very completely (except for 
 'attachment'), which makes those souls, 
 as it were, sister souls — Siamese men- 
 talities. 
 
 "(3) From man to man, without mutual con- 
 sent, the compression of the receiving 
 soul (under pressure by the other) pro- 
 duces, in spite of the imperfection of the 
 process, a partial and momentary incar- 
 nation of the transmitting individual. 
 
 "A very interesting incarnation this, for It 
 satisfies some of those desiderata, all of which I 
 shall satisfy if I attain the aim at which I am 
 driving. 
 
 "It seems to me unattainable." 
 
 So this is the result of the studies which my 
 uncle had been so ardently lauding! 
 
246 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 The theory was disconcerting. I ought to have 
 been astounded by it; for there was revealed a 
 tendency towards spiritualist doctrine — very 
 strange in the case of a materialist like Lerne — 
 and the new doctrine appeared in the light of a 
 phantasmagoria, which would have made many 
 eyes open wide behind learned spectacles, erudite 
 pince-nez, and pedantic monocles. 
 
 As for me, I did not discover all the subjects 
 of wonder at first sight, being still, at that time, 
 somewhat unwell, and I did not perceive that I 
 had translated a Franco-German mene mene 
 tekel iipharsin destined for me! 
 
 My attention was concentrated upon these 
 facts — that the organized being which had never, 
 lived, did not exist, and that, on the other hand, 
 the Professor was doubtful of being able to sup- 
 press the "attachment." So he was foiled. After 
 his former triumphs I expected any miracle from 
 him; only his inability to perform them would 
 have astonished me. 
 
 I set off to seek my uncle, in order to give him 
 back his note-book. 
 
 Barbe (with her corpulent figure) , whom I met, 
 told me that he was walking about in the park. 
 I did not meet him there, but at the edge of the 
 pond I saw Karl and Wilhelm, who were looking 
 at something in the water. Those two black- 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 247 
 
 guards inspired me with aversion, because of their 
 interchanged brains. 
 
 Their presence was usually enough to drive me 
 away, but that day, the sight which kept them 
 on the water's edge, drew me to them. 
 
 This something they were looking at kept 
 jumping out of the water with a shower of dia- 
 mond drops; it was a carp. It leaped up, shaking 
 its fins, which beat the air like wings. One would 
 have said that it was trying to fly away. The poor 
 creature really was trying to do so ! 
 
 I had before me that fish which Lerne had 
 dowered with a blackbird's soul. 
 
 The captive bird — a prey in Its scaly flesh to 
 the old aspirations of Its race, and weary of Its 
 watery home — was leaping towards an impossible 
 heaven. 
 
 Finally, with a more despairing effort, the 
 creature fell on the shore, with its gills quivering. 
 
 Then Wilhelm seized it, and the assistants de- 
 parted with their booty. They apostrophized it, 
 and amused themselves with it like old ill- 
 conditioned guttersnipes. They were whistling, 
 and imitating the blackbird's song in mockery, 
 and then, by way of a laugh, a great neighing 
 came from their chests, and without knowing It, 
 they reproduced the sound of a horse's trumpet 
 much better than they had that of the winged 
 flute. 
 
248 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 I remained deamily contemplating the pond, 
 that liquid cage in which the enchanted carp had 
 suffered the haunting desire to fly, and the regret 
 for a nest. The liquid mirror, a moment dis- 
 turbed by the fury of the fish's leaps, would not 
 have reassumed its leaden calm before the 
 creature was dead. 
 
 Its martyrdom was going to end in the stew- 
 pan. How would that of the other victims finish, 
 the escaped beasts, and Macbeth? 
 
 Oh, Macbeth ! how to deliver him I 
 
 On the water, now becalmed in deep repose, a 
 last ripple was spreading its circles, and the 
 depths of the firmament were reflected in its 
 mirror again. The evening star was shining in the 
 depths of the lake millions of leagues away, but 
 at will, it was possible, on the contrary, to imagine 
 it floating on the surface, and the leaves of the 
 water-lilies, crescents and half-circles, seemed 
 like reflections of the moon at Its successive ages, 
 which had remained there, slumbering in that 
 chill water. 
 
 Macbeth! I thought once more. Macbeth I 
 What about hiinf 
 
 At this moment there was the sound of a dis- 
 tant bell at the main door. Somebody at this 
 hour of the day! Nobody ever came! . . . 
 
 I retraced my steps to the chateau at a rapid 
 pace, asking myself for the first time what would 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 249 
 
 happen to Nicolas if the Law descended on 
 Fonval. 
 
 Hiding behind the corner of the chateau, I 
 ventured a glance. Lerne was standing at the 
 door reading a telegram that moment received, 
 and I came out from my hiding-place. 
 
 *'Here, uncle," said I, "here is a pocket-book. 
 It belongs to you, I think. You left it in the 
 car. . . ." 
 
 But the rustling of petticoats made me turn 
 round. 
 
 Emma was coming to us, radiant in that sun- 
 set, in which her hair seemed, every evening, to 
 gain a new wealth of red light — with a tune sound- 
 ing on her lips, like a rose between her teeth. 
 
 She came straight on, and her gait was that 
 of a dance. 
 
 The bell had interested her also. She Inquired 
 about the telegram. The Professor did not 
 reply. 
 
 "Oh, what's the matter?" said she. "What's 
 the matter, again, mon Dieu?" 
 
 "Is it so grave, uncle?" I asked in my turn. 
 
 "No," replied Lerne. "Donovan is dead, that's 
 all." 
 
 "Poor fellow," said Emma. Then after a 
 silence: "Is it not better to be dead than mad? 
 After all it is the best thing for him. Come, 
 
250 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Nicolas, you are not going to put on a face like 
 that! Come!" 
 
 And she seized my hand, and dragged me to the 
 chateau. 
 
 Lerne went away in the other direction. 
 
 I was prostrated. "Let me alone," I said, "let 
 me alone. Donovan, the poor wretch. Let me 
 alone. You cannot know! Let me alone, I say." 
 
 A maddening fear came over me. Leaving 
 Emma I ran after my uncle and joined him at the 
 laboratory. He was talking to Johann, and show- 
 ing him the telegram. The German disappeared 
 into the house at the very moment that I accosted 
 the Professor. 
 
 "Uncle, you have not told him anything, have 
 you? You have not said anything to Johann?" 
 
 "Yes, why?" 
 
 "Oh, but he will Inform the others, and the 
 others will repeat it before Nell ! Nell will know 
 it, uncle, that is certain. They will tell her, and 
 Donovan's soul will learn that it no longer has 
 a human body. It must not be ! It must not be !" 
 
 "There is no danger, Nicolas, I assure you." 
 
 "No danger ! Those men are scoundrels, I 
 tell you ! Let me prevent this catastrophe ! Time 
 is passing, let me in, I entreat you ! Please, for 
 a second, I entreat you ! Damn it all, I will 
 pass!" 
 
LERNE CHANGES HIS ATTACK 251 
 
 The lessons I had learned from the bull stood 
 me in good stead; I charged head first. 
 
 My uncle fell back on the grass, and with a blow 
 of my fist I opened the already half open door. 
 At this, Johann, who was on the watch behind 
 it, fell back, bleeding at the nose, and then I pene- 
 trated to the courtyard, and decided to take away 
 the dog at any hazard, and never again be 
 separated from it. 
 
 The pack slipped into their kennels. I saw 
 Nell immediately. They had given her a kennel 
 apart from the others. Her great starved, hair- 
 less, wretched body was lying against the grating. 
 
 I called out, "Donovan, Donovan!" She did 
 not budge. 
 
 The eyes of the dogs gleamed in the depths 
 of their somber huts,. and some of them growled. 
 
 "Donovan! Nell!" I had an intuition of the 
 truth. There also the scythe of Death had done 
 its work. Yes, Nell also was cold and stiff. A 
 chain twisted round her neck seemed to have 
 strangled her. I was going to make sure of this, 
 when Lerne and Johann showed themselves at 
 the entrance of the courtyard. 
 
 "Villains," I cried, "you have killed her." 
 
 "No, on my honor, I swear," declared my 
 uncle. "They found her this morning, exactly as 
 you see." 
 
 "Do you think, then, that she did it of her own 
 
252 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 accord — that she put an end to herself? Oh, what 
 a horrible end I" 
 
 "Perhaps," said Lerne. "However, there is 
 another solution, and a more likely one. A 
 supreme convulsion, I think, twisted the chain. 
 The body was sickly. Hydrophobia declared it- 
 self some days ago. I hide nothing from you, 
 Nicolas. I am not exculpating myself in any way. 
 You can see that." 
 
 "Oh," I cried, in terror, "rabies." 
 
 Lerne went on quietly, "It is possible, also, that 
 another reason for this death escapes us. They 
 found the dog at 8 o'clock this morning still 
 warm. The death had taken place an hour be- 
 fore, and," added he, "Macbeth succumbed at 
 7 o'clock — just at the same instant." 
 
 "From what did he die?" 
 
 "He died of rabies also." 
 
 11 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 EXPERIMENTS ! HALLUCINATIONS ! 
 
 Emma, Lerne and I were in the little drawing 
 room after lunch, when the Professor had a sort 
 of fainting-fit. 
 
 It was not the first. I had already observed 
 similar signs of breaking health in my uncle, but 
 this one was very clear evidence. I could observe 
 all the details of it, and it was accompanied by 
 curious circumstances; that is why I shall speak 
 about it more particularly. 
 
 Any one who saw them and did not know all 
 the facts would have attributed those incidents to 
 intellectual overwork. To tell the truth, my uncle 
 did have spells of overwork. The laboratory, 
 hothouse and chateau were no longer sufficient 
 for him. He had annexed the park, also, and 
 now Fonval bristled with complicated poles, 
 abnormal masts, and unusual semaphores, and as 
 some trees interfered with the experiments, a 
 gang of woodcutters was sent for, in order to 
 cut them down. 
 
 The joy of seeing the possibility of free pass- 
 age to and fro restored in the grounds consoled 
 
 253 
 
254 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 me for this sacrilegious destruction. All about 
 the immense workshop of the valley basin one 
 saw the Professor feverishly moving about from 
 one building to another, from a dynamo to a 
 switch, ferociously determined to suppress the 
 fatal "attachment." 
 
 Sometimes, however, he had an attack of weak- 
 ness, as the result of one of those very peculiar 
 fainting-fits which I am describing. It was always 
 whilst he was reflecting profoundly, with his eyes 
 fixed on some object or other, and brain working 
 at high pressure that the attack came, and he 
 collapsed. At such times he became paler and 
 paler, until the color came back into his cheeks 
 by itself, and by degrees. 
 
 Those attacks left him limp and without 
 strength. They robbed him of his fine feeling of 
 confidence, and I heard him complain after one 
 of them, and murmur in a tone of discourage- 
 ment: 
 
 "I'll never succeed, never!" 
 
 Often had I been on the point of asking him 
 about it. That day I made up my mind to do so. 
 
 We were drinking our coffee, Lerne seated in 
 an armchair in front of the window, holding his 
 cup in his hand. Our talk was a broken sort of 
 conversation, with longer and longer intervals. 
 
 For want of something to talk about, the con- 
 
 )M 
 
EXPERIMENTS! HALLUCINATIONS! 255 
 
 versation languished. Gradually it ceased 
 altogether, as a fire goes out for want of fuel. 
 
 The clock struck, and one saw the woodcutters 
 going to their work, with their axes over their 
 shoulder. They brought before my mind a pic- 
 ture of ragged lictors going to carry out an 
 execution of trees. 
 
 Which amongst my old comrades would perish 
 to-day — this beech, or that chestnut? I saw them 
 from my window, clothed in all the yellows of 
 autumn, from the deepest copper to the palest 
 gold, each showing its dark touch of shade, or its 
 reddish light amongst those various yellows. 
 
 The firs were beginning to get black. Leaves 
 were falling here and there as seemed good to 
 themselves, for there was no breeze. 
 
 With a spire like that of a cathedral, a poplar 
 colossus with a hoary head dominated the leaf- 
 age. I had always known it thus — a monumental 
 tree — and the sight of it stirred in me the 
 memories of my childhood. 
 
 Suddenly a flight of terror-struck birds escaped 
 from it — two rooks left it, cawing, a squirrel 
 jumped from branch to branch, and took refuge 
 on the neighboring walnut tree. 
 
 Some unpleasant creature, climbing into the 
 tree, had doubtless threatened their safety. I 
 could not distinguish it, for a clump of bushes 
 hid all the lower part of the poplar, but with a 
 
256 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 surprise that was almost pain I saw it quiver from 
 the top to the roots, shake itself once or twice, 
 and slowly sway its branches. One would have 
 said that a breeze had sprung up which blew for 
 it alone. 
 
 I thought of the woodcutters, without, how- 
 ever, forming a very precise conception of the 
 part they might be playing in this drama. 
 
 "Can my uncle," I said to myself, "have 
 ordered them to execute the poplar — that 
 venerable patriarch — that king of Fonval? 
 That would be too much." 
 
 Then, as I was on the point of asking Lerne 
 about the matter, I perceived that he was in one 
 of his fainting-fits. 
 
 I satisfied myself of the presence of the distinc- 
 tive symptoms of his trouble, the immobility — 
 the pallor — the fixed look — and I succeeded in de- 
 termining what he was looking at with that per- 
 sistent fixed stare of a somnambulist. 
 
 What he was gazing at was the poplar — that 
 animate tree, whose appearance at the moment 
 was recalling in so terrifying a way the date trees 
 of the hothouse excited by love and battle. 
 
 I remembered the note-book. Was there not 
 some appalling analogy between the absence of 
 that man and the life of that tree? 
 
 Suddenly an ax smote the trunk with a 
 sound as of low thunder. The poplar quivered, 
 
EXPERIMENTS! HALLUCINATIONS! 257 
 
 twisted about, and my uncle gave a start. His 
 cup dropping from his hand, was dashed to pieces 
 on the floor, and whilst his cheeks regained their 
 color, he put his hand down quickly to his ankles, 
 as if the ax had struck the man and the tree at 
 the same blow. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lerne gradually recovered. I 
 pretended to have observed nothing except his 
 fainting, and I told him that he should look after 
 himself — that those repeated fits would end by 
 killing him. Did he know what caused them? 
 
 My uncle gave a sign that he did. Emma 
 came near his chair. ... "I know," said he, at 
 last, "cardiac syncope. I am treating myself." 
 
 That was not true. The Professor was not 
 treating himself. He was using up his life in the 
 pursuit of his chimera, without more heed for his 
 skin than it if had been an old work-jacket, to be 
 thrown away as soon as the task was over. 
 
 Emma advised him to go out. 
 
 "The air will do you good," she said. 
 
 He went out. We saw him going towards the 
 poplar, smoking his pipe. The blows of the ax 
 fell faster and faster. The tree bent over and 
 fell. Its fall made the sound like an earthquake. 
 The branches hit my uncle hut he did not step 
 aside. 
 
 And now, robbed of its only campanile^ Fonval 
 seemed to have sunk lower than ever into the 
 
258 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 depths of the valley, and I sought, in the forlorn 
 sky, to fix the place of the tree, which one had 
 already forgotten, and its tall form, which was 
 already legendary. 
 
 Lerne came back. He did not seem to know 
 that he had been imprudent. His carelessness 
 made one tremble when one realized that he 
 might be as reckless in the most hazardous ex- 
 periments — for example, those transfusions of 
 soul about which the note-book spoke. 
 
 Was it one of those attempts which I had just 
 witnessed? I meditated about it, with that 
 strange feeling which I had already experienced 
 at Fonval, like that caused by groping about in 
 mysterious darkness. 
 
 Were Lerne's fainting-fit and the tragedy of 
 the tree some mysterious coincidence, or had some 
 strange bond united them at the moment of the 
 ax's blow? 
 
 Certainly the arrival of the woodcutters at the 
 foot of the poplar would have been enough to 
 cause the flight of the birds, and as for the shud- 
 dering, why should the cutter not have produced 
 it by climbing up the other side of the trunk in 
 order to fix the traditional rope? 
 
 Once more, the crossways of probability offered 
 me a choice of solutions, like so many roads, but 
 my mind was not acute at the time. 
 
EXPERIMENTS! HALLUCINATIONS! 259 
 
 I was often with Emma, but as much as I loved 
 those meetings, I had to make up my mind to 
 stop them, for the following unanswerable reason 
 — but for the note-book I might have attributed it 
 to my nervous condition; I should then have 
 called it a pathological consequence of the opera- 
 tions, and Lerne would have fooled me to the 
 end — fortunately I guessed his tactics at the first. 
 
 He had confided to me that he was thinking 
 of assuming my shape, in order to be loved in my 
 place. His eagerness to save my mutilated 
 body; the method he had explained in the note- 
 book, and the business of the poplar — all co- 
 ordinated themselves in my mind. His fainting- 
 fits assumed all the appearance of experiments, in 
 which Lerne, through a sort of hypnotism, flung 
 his soul into other beings. 
 
 So now with his eye to the keyhole he watched 
 every move I made, transfusing his ego into my 
 brain, using the power which his unfinished dis- 
 covery procured him, to put in practice the most 
 astounding substitution of personalities. I shall 
 be told that this very appearance of unlikeliness 
 ought to have weakened the value of my reason- 
 ing; but at Fonval, incoherence being the rule, the 
 more absurd an explanation was, the more likely 
 it was to be the right one. 
 
 Ah I that eye at the keyhole. It pursued me 
 like that of Jehovah blasting Cain from the top 
 
26o NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 of its triangular peephole ! I was never free of 
 it. Emma felt my distress, but she was far from 
 understanding the real cause of it. 
 
 Although I am joking now, I had perceived my 
 danger, and my one thought was how to avert it. 
 After long deliberation, I determined to take the 
 only reasonable course — one which I should have 
 taken long before, viz., departure. Departure 
 with Emma, of course, for now nothing in the 
 world would have made me leave to my uncle 
 what I had won. 
 
 But Emma was not one of those women whom 
 one can carry off against her will. Would she 
 consent to leave Lerne, and the promised wealth? 
 Assuredly not I 
 
 The poor girl did not see this modernized form 
 of fairy-tale going on around her. The glories 
 to come completely occupied her mind. She was 
 both silly and avaricious. To make her follow 
 me I should have to make her believe that she 
 would not be worse off by a penny, and it was 
 only Lerne who could reassure her effectively on 
 that score. 
 
 So, what I required was the Professor's con- 
 sent I Certainly there could be no question of 
 any consent except of one sort; only one wrested 
 from him by constant intimidation would serve 
 the purpose. 
 
 I would make play with Macbeth's murder, and 
 
EXPERIMENTS! HALLUCINATIONS! 261 
 
 Klotz's assassination, and my terrified uncle 
 would speak to Emma as I wanted him to, and I 
 should carry her off, no doubt depriving Mr. 
 Nicolas Vermont of an inheritance (very much 
 eaten into), and Mile. Bourdichet of (probably 
 quite chimerical) splendors. 
 
 My plan was soon arranged in detail. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 DEATH AND THE MASK 
 
 But this plan was never carried out. Not 
 that I hesitated to put it into action — I was al- 
 ways determined upon it, and any doubt that came 
 to me about the existence of the danger to be 
 avoided, arose only when all chance of realizing 
 my projects had passed. 
 
 As long as they were still possible, on the con- 
 trary, I awaited with patience the opportunity of 
 accomplishing them, and I will even admit that 
 my growing terror ceaselessly urged me to have 
 done with it all. 
 
 Everywhere danger showed itself to my halluci- 
 nated eyes, and all the more perfidiously that 
 there was often nothing to be afraid of. 
 
 It was easy to see that it was time for me to 
 leave Fonval and I longed with all my strength to 
 go, but I had resolved to choose the moment when 
 Lerne should listen to my proposal sympa- 
 thetically, so that thus I might only use my threat 
 as a last resource. 
 
 And the moment was long in coming. The 
 
 discovery would not come to birth. Its failure 
 
 262 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 263 
 
 was undermining the Professor's health. His 
 fainting-fits — or rather his experiments, grew 
 more frequent, and were rapidly weakening him, 
 and his temper suffered in consequence. 
 
 Our walks were the one thing which had not 
 lost their power of cheering him up. 
 
 He still kept singing "Rum fil diim," stopping 
 ev^ery ten yards to utter some scientific truth. But 
 the motor-car, of all things, exerted its magic 
 over the magician, so in spite of the bad result 
 obtained in the same conditions some months be- 
 fore, I had to make up my mind to speak to him 
 during the journey in my 80 h. p., and should have 
 done so — but for the accident. 
 
 It took place in the woods of Lourcq, three 
 kilometers this side of Grey, as we were coming 
 back to Fonval from a run to Vouziers. 
 
 We were climbing a slight hill at full speed. 
 My uncle was driving. I was going over in my 
 mind the speech which I was going to make, and 
 was repeating to myself for the hundredth time 
 the phrases which I had prepared some time be- 
 fore, while apprehension dried up my tongue. 
 Ever since our setting-out, I had put off the attack 
 on my tyrant from moment to moment — rehears- 
 ing the firm tone which would intimidate him. 
 Before each turn in the road I had said to myself, 
 *'It is there I shall speak," but we had passed 
 
264 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 through all the villages, and gone round all the 
 turns In the road, without my being able to articu- 
 late a syllable, and now I had hardly ten minutes 
 left! 
 
 Well, I should open fire when we got to the 
 top of the incline. 
 
 My first phrase was ready at the gates of my 
 memory, and was awaiting expression, when the 
 car lurched alarmingly towards the right, then 
 towards the left, skidding on its two side wheels. 
 
 We were going to overturn ! 
 
 I seized the wheel, and put on all the brake I 
 could, with feet and hands. The car gradually 
 came under control, again slackened its speed, and 
 stopped right at the top of the hill. 
 
 Then I looked at Lerne. He was leaning out 
 of his seat, his head nodding from side to side, 
 and his eyes staring vacantly behind his spectacles. 
 One of his arms was hanging down. 
 
 A fainting-fit! We had had a narrow escape; 
 so, those fainting fits were really syncope. What 
 had I been imagining with my silly ideas? 
 
 However, my uncle was not coming to. When 
 I took off his mask, I saw that his clean-shaven 
 face was as pale as a wax candle. His ungloved 
 hands too looked as If they were of wax. I took 
 them, and being quite Ignorant of medicine, I 
 slapped them vigorously, as one does to actresses, 
 for hysterics. 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 265 
 
 This form of applause was in the nature of 
 a claque in the repose of the countryside — 
 sonorous and funereal; it greeted the withdrawal 
 of the great charlatan from the stage. 
 
 Frederic Lerne had indeed ceased to live. I 
 perceived it from his chilled fingers — from his 
 livid cheeks, his soulless eye, and his heart, which 
 had stopped beating. The cardiac affection about 
 which I had been so skeptical, had just put an end 
 to his life, as is the way with those diseases, with- 
 out any warning. 
 
 Stupefaction, and the reaction from the narrow 
 shave I had just had, kept me motionless. So, in 
 a second, there remained nothing of Lerne except 
 food for worms, and a name fit for oblivion! 
 
 Nothing! in spite of my hatred for this de- 
 testable man, and my relief at knowing that he no 
 longer had power to harm me, I was awestruck 
 by the swift death which had spirited away this 
 monster's intelligence. 
 
 Like a puppet deprived of the hand that gave it 
 life, and prostrate on the edge of the stage, 
 Lerne lay stretched out, limp, his arm hanging 
 down, and his funereal Pierrot's face made whiter 
 by Death. 
 
 And yet, as the spirit departed from'it into the 
 Unknown, the dead body of my uncle seemed to 
 me to grow more beautiful. The soul is so 
 praised in comparison with the flesh, that one is 
 
266 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 astonished at seeing the latter become beautiful at 
 the departure of the former. I followed the 
 progress of the phenomenon on Lerne's features. 
 The Great Mystery shed the light of a divine 
 serenity over his brow, as if life were a cloud 
 whose passing reveals some strange sun ; and thus 
 whilst the countenance took on the hue of white 
 marble, the puppet became a statue. 
 
 Tears dimmed my eyes. I took off my hat. 
 If my uncle had perished fifteen years before, in 
 the fullness of happiness and wisdom, that Lerne 
 of long ago could not have been more beautiful 
 to see. 
 
 But I could not go on dreaming in this way, 
 keeping up a conversation with a corpse on a fre- 
 quented road. So I raised him in my arms 
 calmly, deliberately, and placed him on my left; 
 a strap from the grid fixed him firmly in the seat. 
 With.his gloves on his hands again, his cap pulled 
 down over his eyes, his spectacles on his nose, he 
 seemed as if asleep. 
 
 We set off side by side. 
 
 Nobody at Grey noted the stiffness of my neigh- 
 bor, and I was able to take him back to Fonval, 
 with veneration in my heart for the dead man, and 
 full of pity for this old lover who had suffered 
 so much. I forgot the offenses in the presence of 
 the offender's death. He filled me with a pro- 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 267 
 
 found respect, I must also say, with an invincible 
 repugnance, which kept me from him in the depths 
 of my seat. 
 
 Since our meeting in the middle of the labyrinth 
 on the morning of my arrival, I had not addressed 
 a word to the Germans. I went to seek them in 
 the laboratory, leaving the car and its sepulchral 
 chauffeur in front of the hall door in charge of 
 the servant. 
 
 The assistants understood at once, by my ges- 
 ticulations, that something extraordinary had hap- 
 pened, and followed me. They had that anxious 
 look of criminals who foresee disaster in every 
 trifle. When they were certain what had befallen 
 them, the three accomplices could not hide their 
 dismay and anxiety. They talked together ex- 
 citedly. Johann was domineering: the two 
 others became obsequious. I awaited their 
 pleasure. 
 
 At last they helped me to carry the Professor's 
 body up to his room, and on to the bod. 
 
 Emma saw us, gave a cry and fled, while the 
 Germans made off without more ado. 
 
 Barbe came, and I left her with my uncle. The 
 stout serving-woman wept a few tears, paying a 
 tribute to Death as a thing in Itself, and not to 
 the shade of her master. 
 
 She looked at him from the top of her bulky 
 
268 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 person. Lerne was changing. The nose became 
 pinched — the nails became blue. 
 
 "You will have to lay out the body," I said 
 suddenly. 
 
 "Leave that to me," replied Barbe. "It is not 
 a cheerful business, but I know all about it." 
 
 I turned my back on her and her preparations. 
 Barbe possessed the knowledge of the peasant 
 women, who are all, more or less, midwives and 
 undertakers. 
 
 She soon came and announced to me, "It is 
 all done, properly now. Nothing is wanting ex- 
 cept Holy Water and the decorations, which I 
 can't find." 
 
 Lerne was so white on his white bed, that they 
 mingled together, and resembled an alabaster 
 sarcophagus, with its effigy on it, and both hewn 
 from the same block of marble. My uncle, with 
 his hair carefully parted, had been clothed in 
 a frilled shirt, and a white tie. His pale hands 
 were clasped together, and held a rosary. A 
 crucifix showed like a star on his breast. His 
 knees and feet stood out under the sheets like 
 sharp snowy hills, very far away. 
 
 On the night-table, behind the bowl, in which 
 there was no Holy Water, and in which lay useless 
 a sprinkler of withered boxwood, two candles 
 were burning. 
 
 Barbe had turned this piece of furniture into a' 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 269 
 
 sort of altar, and I scolded her sharply for this 
 piece of absurdity. She replied that that was the 
 "custom," and then shut the shutters. 
 
 Shadows sank into the face of the dead man, 
 thus anticipating the sequel, and creating a prema- 
 ture livor. 
 
 "Open the window wide," I said, "let the day- 
 light in, and the songs of the birds, and the scents 
 of the garden." 
 
 The servant obeyed me, although it was against 
 the "custom"; then, when she had received her in- 
 structions from me for the necessary ceremonies, 
 she left me at my wish. 
 
 From the park there came the powerful aroma 
 of dead leaves. It is infinitely sad! One 
 breathes it in, in the way one listens to a funeral 
 hymn. Crows passed cawing, as they caw when 
 they fly in great numbers from a steeple. The 
 approach of evening darkened the day. 
 
 I examined the room; for I felt I must look 
 anywhere but at the dead. 
 
 Over the writing-desk was a drawing in chalk, 
 which represented my Aunt Lidivine, smiling. It 
 is wrong to make portraits smile ! They are 
 destined to see too many sad things, just as Lidi- 
 vine, in colors, having smiled to see her husband 
 carrying on his illicit amours, smiled again, in the 
 tragic presence of his remains. 
 
 The picture was twenty years old, but the chalk 
 
270 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 powder, which resembles the dust of age, made it 
 look more time-worn. Every day made it darker. 
 It seemed to remove, far away into the past my 
 aunt and her own youth. It displeased me. 
 
 I endeavored to interest myself in other things 
 — in the falling dusk — in the early bats — in the 
 knickknacks of the room — in the candles which 
 threw a feeble light with their dancing flames. 
 
 The wind rose, and took off my attention for 
 the moment. It streamed moaning through the 
 leafage, and as one heard it groaning in the chim- 
 ney, one fancied one could hear the passage of 
 Time. With a sudden stronger gust, it put out 
 a candle. The other flickered, and I shut the 
 window quickly. 
 
 Suddenly, I was sincere with myself, and no 
 longer sought to be my own dupe. I required to 
 look at the dead man, to keep an eye on his seem- 
 ing powerlessness; then I lit the lamp and placed 
 Lerne in a flood ofjlight. 
 
 Really, he was handsome — very handsome ! 
 Nothing remained of the grim physiognomy which 
 I had encountered, after fifteen years of absence 
 — nothing! except, perhaps, a certain irony on the 
 mouth — the shade of a grin. 
 
 Had my late uncle still some arriere pensee? 
 Dead, he seemed still to be defying Nature. 
 Dead ! he who in his lifetime had set his finger to 
 creation ! 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 271 
 
 And his work appeared to me In alhthe sublime 
 audacity and criminal boldness, which made him 
 worthy of the pillory, as well as of the pedestal, 
 of the rod of the slave and of the palm of the 
 victor. 
 
 Of yore, I knew he was worthy of honor, and 
 I would have taken my oath that he would never 
 have deserved dishonor; but what astounding 
 chance, some five years ago, had befallen, which 
 had made of him the wicked lord of a castle who 
 murdered his guests? 
 
 I kept asking myself this, and meanwhile the 
 shades of Klotz and Macbeth seemed to be crying 
 out their torture In the recesses of the moaning 
 chimney. 
 
 The gust, turning to a gale, whistled at the 
 loosely fitting doors. The flames of the candles 
 became restless. The curtains rose and fell 
 again, with melancholy motions. The hair of 
 Lerne was blowR about, white and feathery. The 
 storm disordered those hairs, and brushed them 
 this way and that, and whilst the spirit hand of 
 the gale sported amongst the long hair, I, trans- 
 fixed with amazement, bent over the bed, looking 
 at something that appeared and disappeared 
 under the silvery locks — a purple scar, zvhich en- 
 circled heme's head from temple to temple, the 
 dreadful semi-crown which indicated the Circeean 
 
272 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 operation ! My uncle had been operated on by 
 whom? Otto Klotz, of course! 
 
 Light had penetrated the mystery. Its last 
 veil, a winding-sheet, had been torn. All was ex- 
 plained now — all ! The sudden metamorphosis 
 of the Professor, coinciding with the disappear- 
 ance of the principal assistant, with Macbeth's 
 journey, and the eclipse of Lerne; all! The 
 brutal letters, the changed handwriting — my 
 failure to recognize him; the German accent, his 
 failures of memory, and also the violent temper 
 of Klotz — his rashness, and passion for Emma, 
 and then his wicked activities and the crimes com- 
 mitted on Macbeth and on me ! 
 
 All! All!! All!!! 
 
 Calling to mind Emma's account, I was able to 
 reconstitute the history of an unimaginable crime. 
 
 Four years before my return to Fonval, Lerne 
 and Otto Klotz returned from Nanthel, where 
 they had passed the day. Lerne was probably in 
 a happy mood. He was going once more to take 
 up his noble studies in grafting, whose only aim 
 was to relieve humanity. But Klotz, being in 
 love with Emma, was hoping to divert those ef- 
 forts to another object — one of profit — one of 
 lucre — the exchange of brains : doubtless this very 
 idea (which he was not able to carry out at Man- 
 heim for want of money), he had already pro- 
 posed to my uncle, and without any result. 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 273 
 
 But the assistant had his own Macchiavelian 
 idea. With the help of his three compatriots, 
 warned beforehand, and hidden in the thicket, he 
 struck down the Professor, gagged him, and shut 
 him up in tlie laboratory — this man, whose wealth 
 and independence — in other words, whose person- 
 ality — he invaded. 
 
 The next day, before dawn, he went back to the 
 laboratory, where Lerne, who was being watched, 
 awaited him. 
 
 His three accomplices administered anesthetics 
 to both, and placed the brain of Klotz in my 
 uncle's skull. 
 
 As for the brain of Lerne, they no doubt con- 
 tented themselves with placing it as best they 
 might in the skull of Klotz, who was now only a 
 dead body, and they buried it all In haste with the 
 other debris. 
 
 So there is Otto Klotz behind the mask, clothed 
 in the appearance he desired, dressed like Lerne, 
 master of Fonval, of Emma and the laboratory — 
 a sort of monk of St, Bernard sheltered in the 
 shell of the being whom he killed. 
 
 Emma saw him come out of the laboratory. 
 He entered the chateau, pale and trembling, upset 
 the usual habits and customs, made the criss-cross 
 roads of the labyrinth, and then, sure of impunity, 
 began his terrible experiments. 
 
274 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Fortunately the body-snatcher had died too 
 soon, without reaping the reward of a robbery of 
 which he was now the victim, since the heart- 
 disease which had just carried off the spirit of 
 Klotz, belonged really to the body of Lerne. 
 
 In this manner is the burglar in a house pun- 
 ished when the roof falls in upon him. 
 
 I now understand why that mask had resumed 
 the real expression of my uncle. The soul of the 
 German no longer inhabited it, to give it Klotz's 
 expression. 
 
 Klotz the murderer of Lerne, and not Lerne 
 the assassin of Klotz ! I could not get over it. 
 
 That is a confidence which the double person 
 had forgotten to make to me, and vexed at having 
 been his dupe so long, I said to myself, that, had 
 I been living alone with him, I should probably 
 have discovered his imposture, but that the society 
 of people as easily deceived as Emma was, or ac- 
 complices like the assistants, whether duped them- 
 selves or trying to dupe me, had dragged me into 
 this delusion. 
 
 Ah ! Aunt Lidivine, thouglit I, you were right 
 to smile with your lips of chalk. Your Frederic 
 fell into a villainous trap five years ago, and the 
 mind which has just quitted that form, is not his. 
 Nothing alien any longer remains in it, except a 
 deserted brain — a carnal globe as uninteresting as 
 the liver. So it is your husband whom we are 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 275 
 
 watching; It is the other who has just died, and 
 paid his debt. 
 
 At this idea I sobbed heart-broken, in the pres- 
 ence of the strange corpse, but the sardonic grin, 
 left at the time of its flight by the evil soul like a 
 stamp, still checked my emotions. 
 
 I effaced it with the tip of my finger, forming 
 the mouth, which was now stiff, and hardly malle- 
 able into the shape I wanted. 
 
 At the moment, when I was stepping back, the 
 better to judge of the effect, there was a gentle 
 scratching at the door. 
 
 "It'sl, Nicolas, I, Emma!" 
 
 Poor simple girll Should I tell her the truth? 
 How would she take such a strange turn of 
 destiny? I knew her; having been many times 
 fooled, she would have reproached me with trying 
 to mystify her, so I held my peace. 
 
 "Take a rest," said she, in a low tone. "Barbe 
 will take your place." 
 
 "No, no," said I, "let me be." 
 
 I felt I must keep this vigil by the side of my 
 dead uncle to the end. I had accused him of too 
 many crimes, and I felt the need of asking forgive- 
 ness of his memory, and of that of my aunt; and 
 that is why, despite the wild fury of the storm, we 
 conversed all night long — the dead man, the chalk 
 drawing and myself. 
 
276 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 After Barbe had come at dawn, I went out into 
 the cool of the morning, which soothes the skin 
 and allays the fever of a long night of watching. 
 
 The park in autumn exhaled an odor of decay 
 as of a cemetery. The great wind in the night 
 had piled up all the leaves and my steps rustled 
 in the thick bed. Only one or two could be seen 
 here and there on the skeleton trees, and I could 
 scarce tell whether they were leaves or sparrows. 
 
 In a few hours the park had prepared itself 
 for winter. What was going to become of the 
 marvelous hothouse, at the coming of frost? 
 Perhaps I should be able to get into it by reason 
 of that death which had flung the Germans off 
 their guard. 
 
 I made my way obliquely in its direction, but 
 what I saw from a distance made me quicken 
 my steps. 
 
 The door of the hothouse was open, and smoke 
 escaped from it — acrid and foul — and also made 
 its way through the openings in the glass. 
 
 I went in. 
 
 The Rotunda, the Aquarium and the third hall, 
 were a picture of confusion. They had pillaged, 
 broken and burned everything. Heaps of filth 
 were accumulated in the middle of the three halls. 
 I there found jumbled together, broken plants, 
 shattered pots, bits of glass and sea anemones, 
 flowers defiled, close to dead beasts. 
 
DEATH AND THE MASK 277 
 
 In short, — three disgusting rubbish heaps, 
 wherein the triple palace beheld the end of its 
 pleasant, moving, or repulsive marvels. Some 
 rags were still burning in a corner. In another, 
 a heap of branches — the most compromising ones 
 — were just hissing embers. 
 
 No doubt the assistants had worked feverishly 
 at this task of destruction, in order that no vestige 
 of their labors should remain, and the storm alone 
 had prevented me from hearing them, but it was 
 not likely they had stopped short there in their 
 congenial task. 
 
 To make sure of that, I examined the shambles 
 near the cliff. In that gaping ditch there was 
 nothing but bones and carcasses of unimportant 
 animals, some without a skull, others without a 
 head. Klotz was no longer there. Nell was not 
 there. 
 
 The sack of the laboratory gave me the impres- 
 sion of a masterpiece. It proved the innate ca- 
 pacity of men in general, and certain nations in 
 particular, for this sort of diversion. 
 
 I ransacked the house at will; all the doors 
 banging and clashing as the wind caught them. 
 
 In the courtyard there only remained living 
 animals which had not yet undergone any treat- 
 ment. I did not discover the others till later on, 
 so here there was nothing destroyed. The oper- 
 ating rooms, on the other hand, disclosed an in- 
 
278 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 describable chaos of broken bottles, the mingled 
 contents of which flooded the tiles with a pool of 
 chemicals. A jumble of books, notes and note- 
 books, was spread over the holocaust of twisted 
 implements. 
 
 Lastly, most of the surgical instruments had 
 been stolen. The villains had fled with the secret 
 of the Circeean operation, and the implements 
 needed for performing it. The building where 
 they had lived, indeed, with its chests and cup- 
 boards emptied, its furniture upside-down, proved 
 the flight of the three associates. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE NEW BEAST 
 
 Under the influence of an indifference most 
 praiseworthy, in these unfortunate circumstances, 
 the official doctor asked no questions, examined 
 nothing. I told him how my late uncle had died 
 of syncope. He had heard about his heart- 
 disease, and this official doctor gave me the Burial 
 Certificate. 
 
 "Dr. Lerne is dead," said he, "and our mission 
 to-day will stop at that, if you please. For the 
 rest, it is not our business to set investigations on 
 foot which might bring us to contradict so eminent 
 a master, and make him die otherwise than he 
 desired." 
 
 The funeral took place at Grey-l'Abbaye, with- 
 out any pomp or spectators, after which I em- 
 ployed ten days in unraveling the affairs of this 
 inconceivable duality; this unparalleled amalgam 
 of assassin and victim: Klotz-Lerne. 
 
 During the course of his "phenomenal" exist- 
 ence, that is to say the last four and a half years 
 or so, he had made no testamentary dispositions. 
 This was to me the proof that in spite of his fore- 
 
 279 
 
28o NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 bodlngs of his end, death had overtaken him un- 
 expectedly, for no doubt had it been otherwise, he 
 would have done everything to disinherit me. 
 
 I found in his desk, at the bottom of the secret 
 drawer, my uncle's Will, as the letter of long ago 
 had told me I should. It appointed me his 
 residuary legatee. 
 
 But KIotz-Lerne had charged the estate with a 
 super-abundance of mortgages, and contracted 
 numberless debts. 
 
 My first thought was to appeal to the Courts, 
 and then the absurdity of the case struck me, and 
 I perceived all the confusion, which such a substi- 
 tution of persons could cause to legal minds — 
 those frauds of a kind not provided against by the 
 Code, those false pretenses and all this legacy- 
 hunting, which were a defiance of nature and law 
 alike. 
 
 I had to resign myself to all the consequences 
 of an astounding imposture, and not say a word 
 about it, for fear of arousing the worst suspicions. 
 
 Everything considered, however, the acceptance 
 of the succession still brought m^e some profit, and 
 whatever happened, I was resolved to get rid of 
 Fonval, judging that it would, henceforward, be 
 for me but a nest of evil memories. 
 
 I went through all the papers. Those of the 
 real Lerne, confirmed his medical honor, and the 
 legitimacy of his researches in grafting In every 
 
THE NEW BEAST 28 1 
 
 line. Those of KIotz-Lerne, usually recognizable 
 by the illustrations in the manuscript, and often 
 blackened with German Gothic characters, were 
 carefully examined, and were reduced to ashes, 
 for they were irrefutable witnesses of several 
 crimes, and contained nothing to refute the pre- 
 sumption that a certain Nicolas Vermont, who 
 had been present at Fonval for six months, had 
 been a partner in them. 
 
 Under the influence of this same dread, I ran- 
 sacked the park and outhouses. 
 
 That done, I presented the animals to the vil- 
 lagers, and dismissed Barbe. 
 
 Then I summoned help. We filled trunks and 
 cases with family treasures, whilst Emma packed 
 her boxes — half annoyed at the loss of her day- 
 dream, and half pleased to follow me to Paris. 
 
 After the death of Klotz-Lerne, eager to take 
 my place again in the world, and to enjoy once 
 more the comforts of wealth, without passing 
 through the worries of too small a house, I had 
 written to one of my friends, asking him to take 
 a flat for me, a little larger than my bachelor 
 rooms, and suitable for a couple of lovers. His 
 answer delighted us. He had found out a home 
 for us in the Avenue Victor Hugo — a little house 
 built as if to our measure, and furnished exactly 
 to our taste. Servants, recruited by his good of- 
 fices, awaited us. 
 
282 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 All was ready. I sent off a mountain of parcels 
 belonging to Emma along with her trunks. 
 
 One morning Maitre Pallud, the Notary of 
 Grey, had a final interview with me with regard to 
 the sale of the property. Emma could not keep 
 still. We fixed that very evening for our de- 
 parture in the car, intending to sleep at Nanthel, 
 in order to be in Paris the next day. 
 
 And the hour came for departing from Fonval 
 for ever. I went over the chateau, which was 
 empty of furniture, and the park, in which there 
 was no leafage. It looked as if the autumn had 
 stripped them both. 
 
 The old perfumes still clung to the abandoned 
 rooms, recalling sad memories. Ah ! what charm 
 there sometimes is in musty things ! One saw on 
 the walls the indelible outline of pictures or 
 mirrors now taken down, sideboards or chiffon- 
 iers that had gone, leaving behind patches that 
 looked new against the faded paper, outlines of 
 things magically given by them to the familiar 
 wall, bright spots destined to grow pale, as time 
 went on, just as the memory of the absent. 
 
 Some of the rooms seemed made smaller by 
 being emptied, others larger, without any obvious 
 reason. 
 
 1 went over the house from garret to basement, 
 by the light of the skylight and the gleams of a 
 grating. I explored from attic to cellar, and I 
 
THE NEW BEAST 283 
 
 did not grow weary of wandering through this 
 scenery of my youth, like a living being haunting 
 a phantom place. Ah ! my youth ! It alone 
 dwelt in Fonval. I felt that. In spite of their 
 importance, the recent dramas were pale beside it. 
 The bedrooms were duller than ever, and Dono- 
 van's and Emma's were no longer anything but 
 my own and my aunt's. 
 
 Was I not right to have put up Fonval to 
 auction? 
 
 This double feeling accompanied me in my 
 farewells to the park. The paddock became a 
 lawn, and the summerhouse of the Minotaur only 
 recalled Briareus to me. 
 
 I made a circuit to the cliff. The clouds were 
 so low that one would have said it was a ceiling 
 of gray wool, laid over a circular crater. 
 
 Under this subdued light, which is that of 
 winter, the statues, now bereft of their green 
 togas, showed their concrete, weather-beaten and 
 rain stained, with their noses knocked off, or their 
 chins broken; some of them were crumbling to 
 bits — one with a Bacchante's gesture, was stretch- 
 ing out her arm, the hand of which, carrying a 
 mixing-bowl, only stuck to the wrist by its iron 
 bone, which was dreadful to see. They were 
 going to continue their poses in solitude. 
 
 Something wild and savage was already begin- 
 ning to emerge, but no more than was vaguely 
 
284 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 perceptible. A hawk was sharpening his beak on 
 the weather-cock of the summerhouse. A weasel 
 crossed the paddock with little quiet jumps. 
 
 Unable to make up my mind to depart, I un- 
 locked the door of the chateau again, then I came 
 back to the park. I heard my movements re- 
 sounding on the flooring of the corridors and rus- 
 tling amongst the leaves of the alleys. 
 
 The silence was deepening every moment. I 
 felt a certain difficulty in breaking it. It knew 
 well it was going to reign as a master, and as I 
 paused in the midst of the domain, it put forth Its 
 almighty power. 
 
 There I dreamt a long time — I, the human cen- 
 ter of the enormous amphitheater, the center, 
 also, of a Walpurgis dance of thoughts. To my 
 call there came in a whirlwind, the faces of long 
 ago and yesterday — imaginary or real — person- 
 ages of fairy tales, or truth; they whirled round 
 me in a wild crowd, and made of all the deep 
 valley a maelstrom of remembrance, in which the 
 whole past turned and turned again. 
 
 But I had to go away at last, and leave Fonval 
 to the ivy and the spiders. 
 
 In front of the coach-house, Emma ready 
 dressed for her journey, was Impatiently mounting 
 guard. 
 
 I opened the door. The car was standing 
 
THE NEW BEAST 285 
 
 askew at the end of the old shed. I had not seen 
 it again since the accident, and I did not even re- 
 member having housed it. The assistants, no 
 doubt, through some tardy act of courtesy, had 
 got it in somehow. 
 
 Heedless of my negligence, the engine roared 
 admirably, the moment the electric contact was 
 made, so I brought out the car as far as the semi- 
 circular terrace, and shut on so many memories a 
 symbolical portal, which closed with a sound like 
 a sob. 
 
 Thank Heaven! No more of the awful busi- 
 ness of Klotz, but no more, also, of my youthful 
 years. Then it occurred to me that by keeping 
 Fonval I might prolong them. 
 
 "We shall stop at Grey, at the Notary's," I 
 said to Emma. "I am not going to sell, I am 
 going to let it." 
 
 I plunged on the straight road; the rocky walls 
 seemed to straighten themselves. Emma was 
 prattling. 
 
 At first the car hummed cheerfully. How- 
 ever, I was not slow in repenting that I had paid 
 so little attention to it. With a sudden jerk it 
 slowed down; then several more, and its progress 
 was soon no more than a succession of abrupt 
 jumps. 
 
 I have said, with regard to this car, that it was 
 the perfection of automatism — pedals and handles 
 
286 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 reduced to the minimum. Such a machine pre- 
 sents only one drawback. It must be perfectly in 
 order before setting out, for once en route, one 
 has no more influence on it, except to quicken the 
 pace, or to moderate it, but not to fortify it by 
 dosing and repairs. 
 
 The prospect of a halt spoiled my good humor. 
 
 Meanwhile, the car pursued its jumpy course, 
 and I could not prevent myself laughing. 
 
 This manner of advancing recalled to me, in a 
 comical way, the walks I had taken in this very 
 place, with Klotz-Lerne, and the capricious way 
 in which my sham uncle would stop, and then set 
 off again. 
 
 Hoping that it was merely a passing indisposi- 
 tion of the machine, — too much oil, for example, 
 — I let the engine run on, and endeavored to find 
 out by the noise it made, which of its functions 
 was defective, and every now and again caused 
 those inequalities of power transmission, which 
 grew more marked at every pause, and some of 
 which were so accentuated, indeed, that we were 
 almost motionless for a second. 
 
 My absurd comparison became clearer to me, 
 and that amused me. 
 
 "Just like that blackguardly Professor," I said 
 to myself. "It is amusing!" 
 
 "What is the matter?" said my fellow-traveler. 
 "You are not looking cheerful," 
 
THE NEW BEAST 287 
 
 "I? Nonsense 1" 
 
 It is a curious thing, but this question had af- 
 fected me. I should have thought that my face 
 was quite calm. What motive had I not to be 
 easy in my mind? I was annoyed, that was all. 
 I simply was asking myself what organ was suf- 
 fering in this great body (as the Professor had 
 called it) and not being able to find anything, and 
 it being about to stop altogether, I was annoyed, 
 that was all. 
 
 In vain I listened with a carefully trained ear 
 to the explosion, clickings, dull-sounding knocks; 
 no characteristic sound revealed to me the stiffness 
 of valves or cranks. 
 
 "I bet it Is the clutch which has gone wrong," I 
 cried, "and yet the engine Is all right." 
 
 And then Emma said, "Oh, Nicholas, do look! 
 Should that thing there move?" 
 
 "Ah! I told you so. There, you see!" 
 
 She had pointed to the clutch-pedal, which was 
 moving by itself, while the jolts of the car coin- 
 cided with its motions. 
 
 "That was the trouble." 
 
 Whilst my eyes were fixed on the pedal, it re- 
 mained pushed right over. 
 
 The car, unclutched, stopped. I was going to 
 get out of it, when it set off again in a most brutal 
 way. The pedal had come back. A certain un- 
 easiness tormented me; it Is certain nothing is so 
 
288 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 annoying as a car that will not work; but all the 
 same, I do not remember ever having been so 
 curiously affected by engine-trouble. 
 
 Suddenly the hooter began to yell of its own 
 accord. I felt the insurmountable need of saying 
 something or other, but my dumbness redoubled 
 my anxiety. 
 
 "It is out of order generally," I said, endeavor- 
 ing to speak in a casual tone. "We shan't get 
 there before night, my dear." 
 
 "Would it not be better to repair it imme- 
 diately?" 
 
 "No, I prefer to go on. When one stops one 
 never knows when one will be able to set out 
 again. There will always be time to. . . ." 
 
 "Perhaps it will warm up again," but the hooter 
 drowned my hesitating voice with a great clamor, 
 and my fingers clutched hold of the steering-wheel, 
 for when this clamor had died down, it turned to 
 a continuous note which took on rhythm and in- 
 flections, and I felt coming through this cadence 
 an air — a marching tune (after all, it was perhaps 
 I who made myself hear it). 
 
 This air drew nearer, so to say, became more 
 defined, and after some halting attempts like 
 those of a singer trying his voice, the car reso- 
 lutely thundered out with its copper throat, "Rum 
 pi dum, fil dum." 
 
THE NEW BEAST 289 
 
 At the accent of the German's songs, a horde 
 of suspicions swooped on my uneasy mind. I had 
 an intuition that something fantastic, mysterious, 
 monstrous, had happened. I tried cutting off the 
 petrol. The handle resisted. The brake re- 
 sisted. A superior force kept them immovable. 
 
 Losing my head altogether, I let go the steer- 
 ing-wheel, and took two arms to the diabolical 
 brake. The same result, but the hooter made a 
 gargling sound, and then was silent. 
 
 The girl exclaimed angrily, "That's a funny 
 trumpet!" 
 
 As for me, I had no desire to laugh. My ideas 
 began to follow one another in a giddy whirl, and 
 my Reason refused to sanction my reasoning. 
 
 This metallic car, from which wood, india rub- 
 ber and leather had been banished — of which no 
 fragment belong to matter at one time alive, was 
 it not an organized body which had never lived? 
 This automatic mechanism — was it not a body 
 capable of reflexes, but a body devoid of intelli- 
 gence? Was it not in fact — according to the note- 
 book — a possible receptacle of a soul in its total- 
 ity, — that receptacle which the Professor in his 
 haste had declared to be non-existent? 
 
 At the moment of his apparent death, Klotz- 
 Lerne had doubtless indulged in an experiment on 
 the car, recalling that of the poplar tree, but hav- 
 ing been absent-minded for some weeks, perhaps 
 
290 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 he had not foreseen (fatal want of logic), that his 
 soul would slip entirely into that empty receptacle, 
 and that the "attachment" being broken, his hu- 
 man form would be no more than a corpse, into 
 which the laws of his own discovery forbade him 
 to return. Or else, perhaps, weary with pursuing 
 the fortune he could not seize, Klotz-Lerne had 
 acted of his own free will, and committed a sort 
 of suicide, by exchanging the substance of my 
 uncle for that of a machine. 
 
 But why should he not have wished, simply and 
 solely, to become the new beast, foretold by him 
 in a moment of eccentricity — the animal of the 
 future—the ruler of creation, which the re-fitting 
 of its organs was to make immortal and infinitely 
 perfectible, according to his lunatical prophecy? 
 
 Once more, however sensible this inner discus- 
 sion with myself was, I would not accept its con- 
 clusions. A resemblance in manner between the 
 car and the Professor, a probable hallucination of 
 my sense of hearing, and possibly the way of 
 gripping the lever, should not sufiice to prove this 
 absurdity. My distress wanted a more decisive 
 proof. It came mithout delay. 
 
 We were coming to the edge of the forest, to 
 that limit where the dead maniac invariably 
 paused in his walks. I understood that I was 
 going to have the question settled, and at all 
 hazards, I gave Emma warning. 
 
THE NEW BEAST 291 
 
 "Hold tight; keep your body back I" 
 
 In spite of our precaution, a sudden stop of the 
 car threw us forward. 
 
 "What's the matter?" said Emma. 
 
 "Nothing, do not worry." 
 
 Frankly, I was undecided. What was to be 
 done? To get down would have been perilous. 
 Inside the Klotz-car we were at least out of his 
 reach, and I did not desire to be butted at by him, 
 so I endeavored to get him forward. 
 
 As before, no bit of him would obey my orders. 
 
 We were in this awkward position, when sud- 
 denly I felt the steering-wheel turn round, (levers 
 and foot-breaks working away) ; and the car, 
 making a wide sweep, faced about, and began to 
 take us back again towards Fonval. 
 
 I was luckily able to turn it round again by a 
 sudden movement, but the moment it was set in 
 the right direction, it definitely manifested the 
 wish not to move a wheel forward. 
 
 At last Emma perceived that there was some- 
 thing unusual the matter, and she urged me to get 
 down to put this right, but for some moments my 
 terror had been changed into rage. 
 
 The hooter laughed ! 
 
 "He who laughs last, laughs loudest," I cried to 
 myself. 
 
 "What is the matter? What is the matter?" 
 said my companion. 
 
292 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Without listening to her, I took from the grid 
 a steel rod, which served me as a defensive 
 weapon, and to the profound stupefaction of 
 Emma, I hit the restive car with it. Then there 
 was an epic scene ! 
 
 Under the formidable hail of blows, the heavy 
 vehicle behaved like a restive horse — plunged, 
 kicked and bucked. It tried everything to fling 
 us out of the saddle. 
 
 "Hold fast!" I said to my companion, and I 
 laid on all the harder. 
 
 The engine growled; the hooter yelled with 
 pain, or bellowed with rage. On the sheet-metal 
 of the hood, the blows rained thick and fast, and 
 the thrashing made the woods resound with a 
 fabulous noise. 
 
 Suddenly uttering a shrill scream like an ele- 
 phant, the metallic mastodon gave a bound, exe- 
 cuted two or three plunges, and then dashed 
 forward with the speed of lightning. 
 
 A runaway ! 
 
 I was no longer master of the situation. The 
 frenzy of a mad monster ruled our fate. We 
 were almost flying. The 80 h. p. car sped on 
 with the rapidity of a falling body. We could no 
 longer breathe the wild rushing air. Sometimes 
 the hooter gave a strident cry. 
 
 We flashed through Grey-l'Abbaye like light- 
 ning. Hens and ducks were under our wheels — 
 
THE NEW BEAST 293 
 
 blood on my glasses. We were going so fast that 
 the brass-plate of Maitre Pallud gave me the 
 impression of a golden streak. 
 
 On issuing from the village, the Route Na- 
 tionale hedged us with its plane trees, then the 
 long hill with its slope formed an obstacle to our 
 speed. There, showing signs of weariness, for 
 the first time, the car slackened down, and allowed 
 itself to be managed. 
 
 I had to thrash it often, to make it bring us as 
 far as Nanthel where we got in late, and without 
 any hitch. As we passed over a gutter, however, 
 the copper mouth uttered an exclamation of pain, 
 and I saw that the jolt had just broken a spring 
 of the off hind wheel. 
 
 When we got into the courtyard of the Hotel, 
 I tried to fasten a new spring into the felloe, but 
 did not succeed. My attempts roused such a 
 noise from the hooter, that I had to give up try- 
 ing to repair the damage; besides it was not very 
 urgent. 
 
 I had resolved to finish the journey in a train, 
 and to put my recalcitrant machine in the goods 
 station. The future should decide about Its fate. 
 For the moment I put It in the garage amongst 
 the phaetons, buggies and limousines, but I hastily 
 withdrew, knowing that behind me, the round eyes 
 
294 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 of its head-lamps were shining with a treacherous 
 look. 
 
 As I reflected on all the ins and outs of this 
 astonishing phenomenon, and as I moved away, a 
 phrase in a scientific article which I had once read, 
 and which had struck me, came into my mind, and 
 I was not a little surprised at finding In those 
 words a vague explanation of the marvel, and the 
 promise of happenings no less astonishing. 
 
 "It is possible to Imagine that there exists an 
 intermediate link between living creatures and 
 inert matter, just as there exist links between 
 animals and vegetables." 
 
 The Hotel had all the outward signs of luxuri- 
 ous comfort. A lift took me up, and I was taken 
 to our room. 
 
 My partner had preceded me. After being a 
 prisoner for so long, she was looking with a sort 
 of eagerness at the street, the people moving 
 about, and the shops, whose glories were being 
 lit up. 
 
 Emma could not tear herself away from the 
 spectacle of life, and as she dressed, she turned 
 continually to the window, drawing aside the cur- 
 tains to behold the spectacle again. 
 
 I thought I perceived that she was less affec- 
 tionate towards me. 
 
 My strange conduct in the car had not failed to 
 
THE NEW BEAST 295 
 
 surprise her. As I had made up my mind not to 
 give any explanation, I had no doubt that she re- 
 garded me as a lunatic, hardly cured of his 
 madness. 
 
 At dinner, which we took at little private tables 
 lit up by candles, whose soft light was that of a 
 boudoir, Emma, surrounded by men in evening 
 dress, and women in low-necked frocks, made her- 
 self conspicuous by her aggressive behavior which 
 was quite out of place. She ogled the men, and 
 looked with a sneer at the women — sometimes ad- 
 miring and sometimes contemptuous — speaking 
 her approval in a loud voice, and laughing ostenta- 
 tiously — which caused amusement and astonish- 
 ment all round us — in the most ridiculous and 
 delicious manner. 
 
 She wanted to jabber with everybody there. 
 
 I carried her off as soon as I could, but her 
 desire to get back to the life of the world was so 
 ardent, that we had to go immediately to some 
 place of public entertainment. 
 
 The theater was shut, and only the Casino was 
 open, and that evening, the entertainment con- 
 sisted of a wrestling tournament organized in 
 imitation of Paris. 
 
 The little Hall was full of counter-jumpers, 
 students and common folk. A cloud was floating 
 in it which was a mixture of all proletarian and 
 lower middle-class tobaccos. 
 
296 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 Emma spread herself In her box. A vulgar bit 
 of ragtime proceeding from the shameless orches- 
 tra plunged her into ecstasy, and as her ecstasies 
 were not discreet, three hundred pairs of eyes 
 turned round to look at her, attracted by the wav- 
 ing of a fan, and the hat-feathers which also 
 courageously beat time. 
 
 Emma smiled and looked at the three hundred 
 pair of eyes. 
 
 The wrestling aroused her enthusiasm, and 
 more especially the wrestlers. Those human 
 brutes, whose heads — great jaw, and no brow — 
 seem destined for the sawdust-box of the guillo- 
 tine aroused the most unseemly excitement in my 
 fair friend. 
 
 A hairy, tattooed colossus won. He came to 
 make his bow, and as he did so, awkwardly 
 nodded a myrmidon's head, with two little pig's 
 eyes surmounting his titanic body. 
 
 He belonged to the town. His fellow-citizens 
 gave him an ovation. He was given the title of 
 "Bastion of Nanthel," and "Champion of the 
 Ardennes." 
 
 Emma rose in her seat, applauding him so 
 loudly and insistently, that she both scandalized 
 and amused the audience. 
 
 The Champion threw her a kiss. I felt my face 
 getting red with shame. We returned to the 
 Hotel, exchanging bitter remarks. 
 
THE NEW BEAST 297 
 
 Our apartment happened to be above the arch 
 of the main door, where motor-cars kept passing 
 and re-passing until morning, which made me 
 dream of misfortunes and absurdities. My 
 awakening brought me real ones. Emma was 
 gone ! 
 
 In my astonishment, I endeavored to find 
 plausible reasons for her absence. 
 
 I rang for the waiter. He came, and handed 
 me this letter, which I have preserved, and whose 
 criss-crossed paper, bespattered with blots and 
 blobs of ink, I now pin on to my piece of white 
 paper: 
 
 "Dear Nick, 
 
 "Pardon me for the pain I am causing you, but it is 
 better that we should part. I found again yesterday, my 
 first lover Alcide, the man I fought with Leonie about. 
 He is the handsome fellow who won the wrestling-match 
 yesterday. I am going off with him. I could not give up 
 that kind of life, except for the sort of money which Lerne 
 promised me. I should have made you unhappy, and 
 should have been unfaithful to you. All the rest amounts 
 to nothing. I want a real man. It is not your fault, and 
 so I hope this will not cause you any pain. Adieu for life. 
 
 "Emma Bourdichet." 
 
 In the presence of so categorical an intimation, 
 couched in jargon almost as barbarous as that of 
 the Law Courts, I could only bow to fate. More- 
 over, were not those sentiments which Emma was 
 
298 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 expressing, exactly those which had charmed me 
 in her? Had I not loved in her just that thirst 
 for pleasure which was the cause of her bewitch- 
 ing beauty, and the cause of her infidelity? 
 
 I had the energy and wisdom to defer the rest 
 of my reflections until the morrow. They might 
 have brought on weakness in action. 
 
 I inquired about the first train for Paris, and 
 sent for a mechanic to undertake to dispatch my 
 80 h. p. car, or, if you prefer to call it, the Klotz- 
 automobile, to me. 
 
 I was soon informed of the man's arrival. 
 Together we went to the garage. 
 
 The car had disappeared! 
 
 It can easily be imagined that I put the two 
 treasonable acts together, and accused Emma of 
 a secret complicity. 
 
 But the Manager of the Hotel, thinking he had 
 to do with audacious thieves, went off to the 
 police-office. He came back, saying that they had 
 found in a little street of the faubourg, a car with 
 the number 234XY, which had been abandoned, 
 as he thought, by thieves, for want of petrol. 
 The tank was empty. 
 
 "Ah! just so," said I to myself. Klotz wanted 
 to run away. He forgot about the exhaustion of 
 the petrol, and there he is, paralyzed. 
 
 I kept the true version of the incident to myself, 
 
THE NEW BEAST 299 
 
 and advised the mechanic to push the car to the 
 train, without making the engine go. 
 
 "Promise me this," I Insisted, "it is very im- 
 portant. My train is due, I must be off. Off you 
 go, and remember, no petrol." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE WIZARD FINALLY DIES 
 
 And now, here I am, in this house in the Ave- 
 nue Victor Hugo, which I had taken for Emma, 
 and I am alone with my strange memories, since 
 she preferred to sacrifice her intoxicating and 
 lucrative beauty to M. Alcide. Let us say no 
 more about it ! 
 
 February is beginning. The fire is flaming be- 
 hind me with the flapping sound of a waving flag. 
 
 Since I came back to Paris, having nothing to 
 do, and reading nothing, I write every evening 
 and every morning, at this round table, the story 
 of my singular adventures. 
 
 Are they over yet? 
 
 The Klotz-automobile is there in the coach- 
 house, in a box which I have specially constructed 
 for it. 
 
 In spite of my orders, the Nanthel mechanic 
 put in some petrol, and my new chauffeur and I 
 had the greatest trouble in bringing the human 
 car here, for it was impossible to turn the waste- 
 cocks for emptying the tank. 
 
 It began by destroying its successor — a 20 h. p. 
 300 
 
THE WIZARD FINALLY DIES 301 
 
 machine of the latest model. What could I do 
 with this accursed Klotz-car? Sell it? Expose 
 my fellow creatures to its malignity? That would 
 have been a crime. Destroy it and so kill the 
 Professor in his final transformation? That 
 would be murder. So I locked it up. 
 
 The box has high oak partitions, and the door 
 is heavily bolted. 
 
 But the new beast passed its nights in roaring 
 its threats and chromatic cries of pain, and the 
 neighbors complained. 
 
 Then in my presence I had the delinquent 
 hooter taken to pieces. We had extraordinary 
 difficulty in taking out the screws and the bolts, 
 and we found that the apparatus was, so to speak, 
 soldered to the car. We had to tear it off, and 
 as it came away the whole machine quivered. 
 
 A yellowish liquid, smelling like petrol, spurted 
 from the wound, and flowed drop by drop from 
 the amputated pieces. I concluded from this that 
 the metal had become organic through the action 
 of the infused life, hence my vain efforts to fix 
 the new spring in the wheel, this operation being 
 a sort of animal grafting, as impracticable as the 
 transplanting of a wooden finger on to a living 
 hand. 
 
 Though deprived of power of speech, my 
 prisoner none the less persisted in his nightly out- 
 bursts for a week, dashing the battering-ram of its 
 
302 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 mass against the door. Then suddenly it became 
 silent. 
 
 It was a month ago, I think, that the petrol and 
 oil tanks were empty; but, I have forbidden 
 Louis, my mechanic, to go and make sure, and 
 enter the cage of that savage beast. 
 
 We have peace now, but Klotz is still there. 
 
 Louis has put an end to the philosophical re- 
 marks which were ready to flow from my pen. 
 He came in suddenly, and he said to me with his 
 eyes starting from his head, "Monsieur, monsieur, 
 come and see the 80 h. p. car." 
 
 I did not wait to be told more, but rushed out. 
 
 On the staircase the servant confessed to me 
 that he had ventured to open the door of the 
 coach-house, because for some time a bad smell 
 had been coming out of it. Indeed the stench of 
 the courtyard itself was sickening. 
 
 Louis exclaimed in a tone almost of admira- 
 tion : 
 
 "That's it. A nice stink, isn't it, sir?" and we 
 entered the box. 
 
 So strange did the car look, that at first I could 
 hardly recognize it. 
 
 Sunk on its deflated tires, it had lost its shape, 
 as if it had been a car of half-molten wax. The 
 levers were bent over like bars of india rubber. 
 The head lamps were battered and out of shape, 
 
THE WIZARD FINALLY DIES 303 
 
 and their lenses, bluish and sticky, were like the 
 bleared eyes of the dead. 
 
 I saw suspicious stains, which were eating into 
 the aluminium, and holes which were rusting the 
 iron. The steel had become porous, and was 
 crumbling, and the copper had grown spongy like 
 a mushroom. 
 
 Lastly, the whole machinery was mottled as 
 with a red or greenish leprosy which was neither 
 rust nor verdigris. 
 
 On the ground there was a syrupy disgusting 
 pool all round this repulsive heap of refuse, ooz- 
 ing from it and all streaked with colors suggesting 
 unimaginable horrors. 
 
 Strange chemical reactions occurred from time 
 to time which made this putrefying metallic flesh 
 boil with great bursting bubbles, and, in its depths, 
 the mechanism rumbled and gurgled Intermit- ^ 
 tently. 
 
 Suddenly in a squashy fall, the steering-wheel 
 collapsed, one end going through the floor, and 
 the other through the hood. 
 
 A nameless mess was stirring in there, and the 
 horrible stench of organic decomposition flung me 
 backwards. 
 
 I had had time to see worms wriggling about in 
 the dark depths. 
 
 "What a filthy machine," said the mechanic. 
 
 I tried to make him swallow the idea that vibra- 
 
304 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 tion sometimes disintegrates metal, and may give 
 rise to molecular modifications like this. He did 
 not seem to believe me, and I, who knew that the 
 truth was stranger still, was forced, in order that 
 he might grasp and accept it, to enlarge on the 
 subject and give him, confidentially, a careful ex- 
 planation of the whole matter. 
 
 Klotz is dead ! The car is dead ! And so goes 
 to limbo, along with its author, the beautiful 
 theory of an animalized mechanism made immor- 
 tal by the replacing of parts, and infinitely 
 perfectible ! 
 
 Giving life means also giving death, and to 
 organize inorganic bodies, means to sooner or 
 later disorganize them. 
 
 But, to my surprise, it was not for want of 
 petrol that the fantastic creature died. No, the 
 tank was half full. It was the soul, therefore, 
 which killed it — the human soul, that corrupt soul, 
 which so rapidly wore out the constitutions of 
 animals, more healthy than ours, and soon ruined 
 this pure metaUic body. 
 
 I ordered the filthy bundle of refuse to be flung 
 away. The drains were to be the tomb of Klotz. 
 
 He's dead! He's dead! I'm rid of him. 
 He is dead, and he can never come to life again. 
 In fact, he is dead! His spirit is with the de- 
 ceased. He can never hurt me again. Ah, ha I 
 DEAD ! The filthy brute I 
 
THE WIZARD FINALLY DIES 305 
 
 I ought to be happy, but I am not very. Oh, it 
 is not because of Emma. No doubt the "bag- 
 gage" causes me pain, but that will soon be cured, 
 and to admit that grief is consolable, is already to 
 be consoled from it. My great trouble comes 
 from my recollections. What I have seen and 
 feltharasses me. 
 
 The madman Nell ! The operation ! The 
 Minotaur! I — Jupiter! And so many other 
 horrors. 
 
 I dread eyeballs that stare at me, and I lower 
 my eyes in the presence of keyholes. Those are 
 the sources of my trouble, but I also dread the 
 horrible future. 
 
 Suppose it were not all finished? 
 
 Suppose Klotz's death did not wind up my 
 story? 
 
 I do not care about hhn, as he no longer exists; 
 even if he should come and haunt me in the fea- 
 tures of Lerne or a car, I should know that he 
 was only an hallucination of my weak eyes. 
 
 He is dead, and I do not care a jot about him, 
 I repeat. It is the three assistants who trouble 
 me. Where are they? What are they doing? 
 That is the question. They possess the Circeean 
 formula, and must be using it for their own profit, 
 in order to indulge in the traffic in personalities. 
 
 In spite of his rebuffs, Klotz-Lerne had induced 
 several people to submit to his malevolent surgery, 
 
3o6 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 and to exchange their souls for somebody else's. 
 The three Germans are daily adding to the num- 
 ber of those poor creatures who are craving for 
 money, youth or health. There are in the world, 
 unsuspected men and women who are not them- 
 selves. 
 
 I am no longer certain of anything. Faces 
 seem to be masks. Perhaps I might have known 
 this sooner. There are certain people whose 
 physiognomy reflects a soul the very opposite of 
 their own ; people virtuous and honest, who, for a 
 moment, give glimpses of unexpected vices and 
 monstrous passions, which strike terror like a 
 miracle. They have to-day their soul of yester- 
 day. 
 
 Sometimes in the eyes of the man who speaks 
 to me there passes a strange flash — an idea which 
 does not belong to him. He will contradict it 
 immediately after expressing it, and he will be the 
 first to be astonished that he could have thought 
 of it. 
 
 I know people whose opinions vary day by 
 day, and that is very illogical. 
 
 Lastly, there is often an imperious something, 
 which eludes me — a brutal overmastering power 
 thrusting me back into myself, so to speak, and 
 commanding my nerves and muscles — evil actions 
 or words I regret, a cufl or a curse. 
 
 I know, I know I Everybody feels those un- 
 
THE WIZARD FINALLY DIES 307 
 
 reflecting movements, and always has felt them, 
 but the reason has become obscure and mysterious 
 to me. 
 
 It is called fever, anger, want of thought — 
 just as customs or decorum are called calculation, 
 hypocrisy or diplomacy. This is the way people 
 account for these sudden revelations, which I 
 have noted so often in my fellow-creatures, and 
 which the world says, can only be failures to com- 
 ply with those great powers, or revolts against 
 them. 
 
 Might not the science of a wizard be the real 
 prime cause? 
 
 Clearly the mental stage in which I am is ex- 
 hausting me, and requires treatment. Now, it 
 is kept alive by the obsession of the fateful time 
 I spent at Fonval. That is why, since my return, 
 realizing that I must rid myself of the remem- 
 brance of it, I have resolved to test myself by 
 telling the story — not, Good Heavens ! with any 
 ambition to write a book, but in the hope that 
 if one put it down on paper, it would get out of 
 my head, and that to put it down would be to 
 drive it away. 
 
 That is not the case, far from it. I have just 
 lived it again, and with more reality as I told the 
 story, and some mysterious power or other has 
 sometimes forced me to put in a word or phrase 
 against my own intentions. 
 
3o8 NEW BODIES FOR OLD 
 
 I have failed in my aim. I must try to forget 
 this nightmare, and suppress even trifles that 
 might make me think of it. 
 
 I must sell Fonval and all the furniture. I must 
 live, live in my own personality — however ridicu- 
 lous, foolish or extravagant the original may be — ■ 
 independent, and without suggestions, and free — 
 free from memories. 
 
 Those abominations, I swear, are now crossing 
 my brain for the last time. I write this down 
 to heighten the solemnity of my oath. 
 
 And you, you criminal manuscript, you, who 
 would perpetuate beings and facts when I should 
 refuse to admit that they have existed — into the 
 fire with you, "Dr. Lerne" ! — 
 
 Into the fire . . . ! 
 
 THE END 
 
This book is due at the LOUIS R. WILSON LIBRARY on the 
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