Zilah was silent during the drive; and Vogotzine gazed steadily out of
the window, without saying a word, as the Prince showed no desire to
converse.
They stopped before a high house, evidently built in the last century,
and which was probably formerly a convent. The General descended heavily
from the coupe, rang the bell, and stood aside to let Zilah pass before
him.
The Prince’s emotion was betrayed in a certain stiffness of demeanor,
and in his slow walk, as if every movement cost him an effort. He
stroked his moustache mechanically, and glanced about the garden they
were crossing, as if he expected to see Marsa at once.
Dr. Fargeas appeared very much pleased to see the Prince, and he thanked
him warmly for having come. A thin, light-haired man, with a pensive
look and superb eyes, accompanied Fargeas, and the physician introduced
him to the Prince as Dr. Sims.
Dr. Sims shared the opinion of his colleague. Having taken the invalid
away, and separated her from every thing that could recall the past, the
physicians thought, that, by suddenly confronting her with a person so
dear to her as Prince Zilah, the shock and emotion might rouse her from
her morbid state.
Fargeas explained to the Prince why he had thought it best to transport
the invalid from Maisons-Lafitte to Vaugirard, and he thanked him for
having approved of his determination.
Zilah noticed that Fargeas, in speaking of Marsa, gave her no name or
title. With his usual tact, the doctor had divined the separation; and
he did not call Marsa the Princess, but, in tones full of pity, spoke of
her as the invalid.
“She is in the garden,” said Dr. Sims, when Fargeas had finished
speaking. “Will you see her now?”
“Yes,” said the Prince, in a voice that trembled slightly, despite his
efforts to control it.
“We will take a look at her first; and then, if you will be so kind,
show yourself to her suddenly. It is only an experiment we are making.
If she does not recognize you, her condition is graver than I think. If
she does recognize you, well, I hope that we shall be able to cure her.
Come!”
Dr. Sims motioned the Prince to precede them.
“Shall I accompany you, gentlemen?” asked Vogotzine.
“Certainly, General!”
“You see, I don’t like lunatics; they produce a singular effect upon me;
they don’t interest me at all. But still, after all, she is my niece!”
And he gave a sharp pull to his frock-coat, as he would have tightened
his belt before an assault.
They descended a short flight of steps, and found themselves in a large
garden, with trees a century old, beneath which were several men and
women walking about or sitting in chairs.
A large, new building, one story high, appeared at one end of the
garden; in this were the dormitories of Dr. Sims’s patients.
“Are those people insane?” asked Zilah, pointing to the peaceful groups.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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