CHAPTER XXIII.

A MODERN MIRACLE.

Monte-Cristo, whose power and influence seemed to be absolutely

boundless, presented himself on the following morning at the insane

asylum where the Viscount Massetti was under treatment armed with a

permit from the Papal Secretary of State, Cardinal Monti, for the Hebrew

physician, Dr. Israel Absalom, to assume charge of the case of the noble

patient. The director of the institution shrugged his shoulders when

this permit was exhibited to him by M. Morrel, who had accompanied the

Count for the purpose of introducing him to that official.

"Messieurs," said he, in very good French, "I am bound to respect this

paper, but I solemnly protest against trusting the patient to this

Hebrew charlatan and wash my hands of all responsibility in the

premises!"

"M. the director," replied Monte-Cristo, in a dignified tone,

"notwithstanding the repeated assertion of your physician who has been

in charge of young Massetti ever since his arrival here that his malady

was entirely curable, he has made but little if any progress with the

sufferer, who to-day is still insane. Dr. Absalom, even though he be a

charlatan as you maintain, but which, if you will pardon me, I must

decline to admit, could not make a more conspicuous and complete

failure!"

"M. the Count," said the director, coldly, evidently not relishing

Monte-Cristo's bluntness, "all that the most advanced science can do has

been done. Insanity is a disease slow and difficult of cure; time is

required to produce results and it will be fully a year before the

Viscount can, even under the most favorable circumstances, be thoroughly

restored."

"Your experience entitles your opinion to respect," returned the Count,

with equal coldness, "but still I cannot accept that opinion as final."

"As you please," said the official, haughtily. "After your Jewish

physician, if he really be such, has vainly administered his nostrums

and ineffectually mumbled his incantations, you will be glad enough to

have the regular practitioner of the asylum resume the functions of

which you now see fit so summarily to deprive him."

"Perhaps," answered the Count, smiling. "It is part of my creed never to

despise science in whatever form it may come!"

The director bowed with satirical politeness.

At noon precisely Dr. Absalom arrived. He had discarded his gaudy and

fantastic attire of the previous day and appeared in the ordinary street

dress of a European. If he had seemed imposing to Maximilian at his

house in the Ghetto, he looked still more imposing to him now, shorn as

he was of all oriental accessories and depending for effect upon the

wondrous intellectual aspect of his countenance alone. The only article

of luxury he had about him was a massive gold-headed cane on which his

years caused him to lean heavily.

Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel received him with the utmost courtesy and

deference, but the director hardly noticed him and with difficulty

concealed his disgust. The Hebrew sage, however, was used to the uncivil

manner in which the Italians treated the people of his nation and showed

not the faintest sign of displeasure, though the Count and Maximilian

could scarcely restrain themselves from resenting the official's

insulting behavior.

Without delay Dr. Absalom was conducted to young Massetti's chamber by

the physician who up to that time had attended the patient. He was an

elderly man, but though an Italian showed marked respect for the aged,

noble-looking Hebrew. Monte-Cristo and M. Morrel accompanied the two

savants, the former confident in Dr. Absalom's power to perform his

promise, the latter hoping for his success, yet doubtful of it.

As the party entered the apartment of the maniac the Italian physician

said to his Jewish confrere:

"Dr. Absalom, I would very much like to witness your mode of treatment.

Will you kindly permit me to remain in the room?"

"Certainly," replied the Hebrew. "I have nothing whatever to conceal;

but," he added, with twinkling eyes, "I warn you in advance that you

will be no wiser after you have witnessed my operations and their result

than you are at present!"

The Viscount was sitting in a large arm-chair, his face buried in his

hands. At the entrance of the four men he murmured, without looking up:

"Why has the beautiful vision left me? Why does the divine Juno deny me

the light of her presence?"

Dr. Absalom glanced inquiringly at his companions.

"He means Valentine, my wife," explained Maximilian. "She resorted to a

pardonable little artifice to lure him hither."

"Let her be sent for at once," said the Hebrew. "I shall have need of

her."

"But," objected Monte-Cristo, "Mme. Morrel is taking charge of my

daughter, this poor young man's betrothed, who is terribly cast down by

her lover's fearful misfortune and cannot be left alone."

"His betrothed!" exclaimed Dr. Absalom. "Better and better! Let her also

be brought! I shall have need of her too!"

"You shall be obeyed, Doctor," said Monte-Cristo, and M. Morrel was at

once dispatched to the Hotel de France with instructions to return

immediately with his wife and Zuleika.

When they had arrived and their presence in an adjoining apartment was

announced to Dr. Absalom by Maximilian, the Hebrew said:

"M. Morrel, kindly conduct your wife hither, and you, M. the Count, go

to your daughter and remain with her until I summon you. Tell the poor

child to be of good cheer! that her lover shall be restored to her!"

Monte-Cristo quitted the chamber, followed by Maximilian, who instantly

came back with Valentine.

"Mme. Morrel," said the Jewish physician, "go to the patient and take

his hand."

Valentine did as directed. At her touch the Viscount started up,

exclaiming, in tones of the utmost delight:

"Divine Juno, pardon me! I have wronged you! I thought you had deserted

me, but I was in error, for you are here!"

He fixed his eyes upon her, gazing at her like one entranced, paying no

heed whatever to the others in the apartment. Valentine glanced at Dr.

Absalom, who slowly left his place, gliding stealthily to Massetti's

side. Erecting himself to his full height, he extended his hands above

Giovanni's head; almost instantly the demented man sank back into his

chair as if pressed down by some colossal, some irresistible force; then

he closed his eyes, falling into a calm, peaceful slumber. Valentine,

released from his clasp, stood looking on, lost in speechless wonder.

Maximilian was also amazed at this prompt exhibition of the Hebrew's

power, but the Italian physician, who had been intently watching,

whispered in his ear:

"The Jew is a mesmerist; that is all; at least, all that has been

developed so far!"

Meanwhile Dr. Absalom continued to hold his hands above the patient's

head that drooped more and more until it finally sank upon his breast.

For a moment longer the Hebrew maintained his position; then he withdrew

his hands, taking a small vial from the pocket of his coat and uncorking

it; immediately a powerful and subtle odor pervaded the apartment,

causing Valentine, Maximilian and the Italian physician to breathe

painfully, as if stifling.

"What is it?" gasped M. Morrel, catching the Italian by the arm.

"I do not know," answered the latter. "But look at Massetti--his face is

violet, the preliminary hue of death! If the Jew kills the patient

nothing can save him from the fury of the Roman populace!"

The subtle odor increased in intensity and the Viscount's face changed

from violet to an ashen paleness.

"He is dead!" cried the Italian. "Dr. Absalom, you are a murderer!"

The Hebrew waved his hand commandingly and, with a look of the utmost

dignity and sternness, said:

"Be silent and wait!"

He corked the vial, replaced it in his pocket and opened a window. The

fresh air flooded the place and gradually the oppressive odor vanished.

The patient was yet of a ghastly pallor. Dr. Absalom felt his pulse,

counting the beats by his watch. A smile of satisfaction overspread his

intellectual countenance.

"The remedy has done its work!" he said. "Now for the second and vital

application! Whatever may happen," he added, impressively, turning to

the Italian physician, "I charge you on your life not to interfere or

interrupt me!"

Producing another vial, larger than the first, he held it aloft and

shook it, examining its contents with the closest scrutiny. The deeply

interested and somewhat awed observers saw a bright green fluid flash

in the sunlight. Satisfied with his examination, the Hebrew uncorked the

vial; then, opening the patient's mouth, he poured the emerald liquid

gradually down his throat, drop by drop. For some seconds after this no

change in Massetti was perceptible. He still sat sleeping in his chair

with his head bowed, and the ghastly hue of his visage remained

unaltered. Dr. Absalom had again drawn his watch from his fob, dividing

his attention between noting the flight of time and intently observing

the patient. So profound was the silence in the room that the regular

tick of the watch was distinctly audible in all parts of it.

Suddenly Giovanni began to quiver. A violent convulsion followed,

shaking him from head to foot and fearfully contorting his face, his

hands curling up like a strip of paper that has been scraped with a

knife. His condition was frightful to behold. Maximilian and the Italian

looked on anxiously, holding their breath. Valentine unable to bear the

sight turned away, emotion and terror contending within her for the

mastery. The Hebrew, however, was all nerve and confidence. When a

quarter of an hour had elapsed he put up his watch. Massetti's

convulsion had passed away, his hands had uncurled and his unearthly

pallor had been succeeded by a faint flush. He reclined in his chair as

if wrapped in a healthful slumber. Presently his lips parted.

"Zuleika!" he murmured. "Oh! my beloved!"

Dr. Absalom glanced at the Italian physician significantly,

triumphantly.

"The patient is dreaming," he said, "and it is a good sign--he is

dreaming of his betrothed whom in his insanity he had entirely

forgotten--another good sign! My treatment is working! I shall succeed!"

Turning to Maximilian, he added: "Aid me to place the Viscount upon his

bed, if you please."

M. Morrel complied with alacrity and Massetti was immediately extended

on his couch in a comfortable position. Dr. Absalom again felt his

pulse, counting it as before by his watch; then he said:

"The patient may now awake at any time, but it is probable that fifteen

minutes will first elapse. Let the Count and his daughter be summoned."

Maximilian opened the door and beckoned without. Monte-Cristo and

Zuleika entered.

"My child," said the Hebrew, taking the latter by the hand and leading

her to her lover's bedside, "look upon your betrothed! He is sleeping

peacefully and dreaming of you! Awhile ago he uttered your name!

Courage, daughter, courage! The worst is over! The clouds are sweeping

from the young man's mind to leave it clear and perfect! Remain here

where I place you! It is important that upon awaking the patient's eyes

shall rest on you!"

Zuleika, astounded, bewildered, gazed at her lover and with difficulty

resisted the impulse to cast herself upon his neck.

Monte-Cristo, Maximilian, Valentine and the Italian physician grouped

themselves a short distance away, waiting and watching. Their eagerness

and anxiety were intense.

Five minutes, ten minutes passed, then fifteen. As Dr. Absalom's watch

told the quarter of an hour, the Viscount all at once opened his eyes.

They rested on Zuleika. The anxious interest of the spectators was now

at the highest pitch. The Count, M. Morrel, Valentine and the Italian

leaned forward breathlessly. Giovanni put his hand to his brow, uttered

a low sigh and then sat up, gazing at Monte-Cristo's daughter in

bewilderment. At last he spoke.

"Zuleika, darling Zuleika!" he said, faintly, but very tenderly, at the

same time extending his arms towards her. The girl glanced at Dr.

Absalom. He pointed to Giovanni and smiled. She instantly comprehended

his permission and threw herself into her lover's embrace.

"Giovanni, dear Giovanni," she murmured, "you are yourself again, are

you not?"

"Myself, Zuleika? Have I ever been otherwise?"

"You have been very ill, Giovanni."

"Ah! yes. That is the reason I am here." Glancing around him he added:

"There is your father, too, but who are those strangers with him?"

"The physicians, and two of our most devoted friends, M. Morrel and his

wife."

The Viscount sank back upon the couch and took Zuleika's hand in his,

clasping it warmly.

"I feel faint and feeble," he said, "oh! so very faint and feeble, but a

terrible, crushing weight seems to have been removed from my brain!"

He spoke rationally. Dr. Absalom had worked a modern miracle--the young

man's reason was fully restored!

The Count and Maximilian exchanged glances of delight. Valentine's eyes

were wet with tears of joy. As for Zuleika, her cup of happiness was

full. Dr. Absalom smiled placidly. The Italian physician advanced and

took him by the hand.

"I congratulate you," said he, cordially. "Your skill is simply

amazing!"

The Hebrew bowed profoundly.

"Doctor," said he, "I have fulfilled my promise and my portion of the

work is done. The rest remains for you to accomplish. You must resume

charge of the patient and restore his strength."

With these words the old savant resumed his hat, saluted all present

and, leaning heavily upon his gold-headed cane, passed slowly from the

apartment.

Monte-Cristo followed him, enthusiastically expressing his gratitude;

taking from his pocket a huge roll of bank-bills, he offered it to the

Hebrew, but the latter firmly refused to accept.

"I remember the Athenian mob, M. the Count!" said he, impressively.

As they passed the director's office, that official came out.

"Well?" said he to Monte-Cristo. "The Jew has failed, of course!"

"He has succeeded!" replied the Count, with a smile of triumph.

"You do not mean to tell me that the patient is restored to reason!"

exclaimed the director.

"That is exactly what I do mean to tell you!" retorted Monte-Cristo,

sharply.

"Humph! there is some cunning trick about this!" cried the official,

returning to his office and abruptly closing the door behind him.

The Italian physician resumed charge of the Viscount Massetti, Zuleika

and Valentine nursing him by turns. In two weeks the young man quitted

the asylum as fully restored in body as he was in mind.