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I was put with Guiraud, Romestan and Lagarde, who were my companions at table, and almost as new as I was. I was quite happy with this. They had seemed to me to be nice children, which, in fact, they were. But I was taken aback when I saw the smallness of my bed, the thinness of the mattress, and what displeased me most, the iron bed-stead. I had never seen anything like it.
Old men, like children, can conceal nothing from those they love, and who have obtained over them an influence they willingly submit to. Before I proceed to more important events, I would fain speak of persons with whom I lived before my elevation. My godfather, M. Billard du Monceau, was still living, as well as madame Lagarde, with whom I had resided as companion.
If you will excuse my speaking frankly, I mean to observe you closely, and to decide for myself." Doctor Lagarde smiled sadly. "You have heard of me as a charlatan who contrives to amuse a few idle people," he said. "I don't complain of that; my present position leads necessarily to misinterpretation of myself and my motives.
No words passed between them; nothing more took place. In a minute or two, his head was resting against the back of the chair, and his eyelids had closed. "Are you sleeping?" asked Madame Lagarde. "I am sleeping," he answered. She laid his hands gently on the arms of the chair, and turned to address the visitor. "Let the sleep gain on him for a minute or two more," she said.
He whispers something in her ear. She yields. He leads her away. The darkness gathers behind them. I look and look, and I can see no more." "Shall we wait awhile?" Percy suggested, "and then try again?" Doctor Lagarde sighed, and reclined in his chair. "My head is heavy," he said; "my spirits are dull. The darkness baffles me. I have toiled long enough for you. Drop my hand and leave me to rest."
This was, however, the only murder committed that day in the town, thanks to the vigilance and courage of General Lagarde. The next day a considerable crowd gathered, and a noisy deputation went to General Lagarde's quarters and insolently demanded that Trestaillons should be set at liberty.
Thus, as we shall see, the struggle assumed a new phase: resistance to the royal power was made in the name of the royal power, and both those who broke or those who tried to maintain the public peace used the same cry, "Long live the king!" The firm attitude assumed by General Lagarde restored Nimes to a state of superficial peace, beneath which, however, the old enmities were fermenting.
Arrived at the Strand, Percy set the Captain down at the turning which led to the Doctor's lodgings. "You will call on me or write me word, if anything remarkable happens?" he said. "You shall hear from me without fail," Bervie replied. That night, the Captain's pen performed the Captain's promise, in few and startling words. "Melancholy news! Madame Lagarde is dead.
It will be really doing me a favor if you can call to mind what Lagarde saw in the trance in my absence?" Thus entreated Percy roused himself. His memory of events were still fresh enough to answer the call that his friend had made on it. In describing what had happened, he accurately repeated all that the Doctor had said. Bervie dwelt on the words with alarm in his face as well as surprise.
Edmond Lagarde, who, although he was twenty-three years old, would not have been taken for more than eighteen, had grown to man's estate in his father's little dry-goods shop at Passy; he was a sergeant in the 5th line regiment and had fought with great bravery throughout the campaign, so much so that he had been knocked over near the Minil gate about five o'clock, when the battle was virtually ended, his left arm shattered by one of the last shots fired that day, and Delaherche, when the other wounded were removed from the improvised ambulance in the drying room, had good-naturedly received him as an inmate of his house.
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