Memoirs of a Physician (41 page)
” And you believe we shall never arrive at this isolation ? “
” Try,” said Marat ; ” this is an excellent opportunity.”
” Well, yes, you are right,” said Balsamo ; ” the opportunity is a good one, and I will make the attempt.”
” Yes, try.”
“Twill.”
“How so?”
” This young man interests me ; he shall not suffer.”
” You are an illustrious chief,” said Marat, ” but you are not the Almighty, and you cannot prevent this wretch from suffering.”
” If he were not to feel the pain, do you think he would recover ? “
” His recovery would be more probable, but not certain.”
Balsamo cast an inexpressible look of triumph upon Marat, and placing himself before the young patient,
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whose frightened eyes, already dilated with the anguish of terror, met his.
” Sleep,” said he, not alone with his lips, but with his look, with his will with all the heat of his blood, all the vital energy of his body.
The head-surgeon was just commencing to feel the injured leg, and to point out the aggravated nature of the case to his students; but, at Balsamo’s command, the young man, who had raised himself upon his seat, oscil-lated for a moment in the arms of his attendants, his head drooped, and his eyes closed.
” He is ill ‘ said Marat.
” No, sir.”
” But do you not see that he loses consciousness ? “
” He is sleeping.”
“What, he sleeps?”
” Yes.”
Every one turned to look at the strange physician, whom they took for a madman. An incredulous smile hovered on Marat’s lips.
” Is it usual for people to talk while in a swoon ? ” asked Balsamo.
” No.”
” Well, question him ; he will reply.”
” Halloo, young man ! ” cried Marat.
” You need not speak so loud,” said Balsamo ; ” speak in your usual voice.”
” Tell us what is the matter with you.”
” I was ordered to sleep, and I do sleep,” replied the patient.
His voice was perfectly calm, and formed a strange contrast to that they had heard a few moments before.
All the attendants looked at one another.
” Now,” said Balsamo, ” release him.”
“That is impossible,” said the head-surgeon; “the slightest movement will spoil the operation.”
” He will not stir.”
” Who can assure me of that ? “
” I, and he also. Ask him.”
” Can you be left untied, my friend ? “
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” Yes.”
” And will you promise not to move ? “
” I will promise it if you command me.”
” I command it.”
” Faith ! sir, you speak so positively that I am tempted to make the trial.”
” Do so, sir, and fear nothing.”
“Untie him.”
The assistants obeyed.
Balsamo advanced to the bedside.
” From this moment,” said he, ” do not stir until I order you.”
A carved statue upon a tombstone could not have been more motionless than the patient upon this injunction.
” Now operate, sir,” said Balsamo ; ” the patient is quite ready.”
The surgeon took his bistoury ; but, when upon the point of using it, he hesitated.
” Cut, sir, cut ! ” said Balsamo, with the air of an inspired prophet.
And the surgeon yielding like Marat, like the patient, like every one present to the irresistible influence of Balsamo’s words, raised the knife. The sound of the knife passing through the flesh was heard, but the patient never stirred, nor even uttered a sigh.
” From what country do you come, my friend ? ” asked Balsamo.
” I am a Breton, sir ‘ replied the patient, smiling.
” And you love your country ? “
” Oh, sir, it is so beautiful ! “
In the meantime the surgeon was making the circular incisions in the flesh, by means of which, in amputations, the bone is laid bare.
” You quitted it when young ? ” asked Balsamo.
” At ten years of age, sir.”
The incisions were made the surgeon placed the saw on the bone.
” My friend ‘ said Balsamo, ” sing me that song which the salt-makers of Batz chant as they return to their
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homes after the day’s work is over. I can only remember the first line :
” ‘ My salt covered o’er with its mantle of foam.’ “
The saw was now severing the bone; but at Balsamo’s command the patient smiled, and commenced in a low, melodious, ecstatic voice, like a lover or like a poet, the following verses :
” ‘ My salt covered o’er with its mantle of foam, The lake of pure azure that mirrors my home, My stove where the peats ever cheerfully burn, And the honeyed wheat-cake which awaits my return ;
‘ ‘The wife of my bosom my silver-haired sire My urchins who sports round my evening fire And there where the wild flowers, in brightest of bloom, Their fragrance diffuse round my loved mother’s tomb.
‘ ‘ Blest, blest be ye all ! Now the day’s task is o’er, And I stand once again at my own cottage door ; And richly will love my brief absence repay, And the calm joys of eve the rude toils of the day.’ “
The leg fell upon the bed while the patient was still singing.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
BODY AND SOUL.
EVERY one looked with astonishment at the patient with admiration at the surgeon. Some said that both were mad. Marat communicated this opinion to Balsamo, in a whisper.
” Terror has made the poor devil lose his senses,” said he ; ” that is why he feels no pain.”
” I think not ‘ replied Balsamo ; ” and far from having lost his senses, I am sure that if I asked him he could tell us the day of his death, if he is to die, or the period of his convalescence, if he is to recover.”
Marat was almost inclined to adopt the general opinion
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that Balsamo was as mad as his patient. In the meantime, however, the surgeon was tying up the arteries, from which spouted streams of blood.
Balsamo drew a small vial from his pocket, poured a few drops of the liquid it contained upon a little ball of lint, and begged the chief surgeon to apply the lint to the arteries. The latter obeyed with a certain feeling of curiosity. He was one of the most celebrated practitioners of that period a man truly enamored of his profession; who repudiated none of its mysteries, and for whom chance was but the makeshift of doubt.
He applied the lint to the artery, which quivered, bubbled, and then only allowed the blood to escape drop by drop. He could now tie up the artery with the greatest facility.
This time Balsamo obtained an undoubted triumph, and all present asked him where he had studied, and of what school he was.
” I am a German physician of the school of Gottingen,” replied he, ” and I have made this discovery you have just witnessed. However, gentlemen and fellow practitioners, I wish this discovery to remain a secret for the present, as I have a wholesome terror of the stake, and the parliament of Paris might perhaps resume their functions once more for the pleasure of condemning a sorcerer.”
The chief surgeon was still plunged in a reverie. Marat also seemed thoughtful, but he was the first to break the silence.
” You said just now,” said he, ” that if’ you were to question this man about the result of this operation, he would reply truly, though the result is still veiled in futurity.”
” I assert it again,” replied Balsamo.
” Well, let us have the proof.”
” What is this poor fellow’s name ? “
” Havard,” replied Marat.
Balsamo turned to the patient, whose lips were yet rrmr-muring the last words of the plaintive air.
” Well, my friend,” asked he, ” what do you augur from the state of this poor Havard ? “
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” What do I augur from his state ? ” replied the patient ; ” stay, I must return from* Brittany, where I was, to the Hotel Dieu, where he is.”
” Just so ; enter, look at him, and tell me the truth respecting him.”
” Oh ! he is very ill ; his leg has been cut off.”
” Indeed ! ” said Balsamo. ” And has the operation been successful ? “
” Exceedingly so ; but “
The patient’s face darkened.
” But what ? ” asked Balsamo.
” But,” resumed the patient, ” he has a terrible trial to pass through. The fever “
” When will it commence ? “
” At seven o’clock this evening.”
All the spectators looked at one another.
” And this fever ? ” asked Balsamo.
” Oh ! it will make him very ill ; but he will recover from the first attack.”
” Are you sure ? “
” Oh, yes ! “
” Then, after this first attack, will he be saved ? “
” Alas ! no,” said the wounded man, sighing.
” Will the fever return, then ? “
” Oh, yes, and more severely than before. Poor Havard ! poor Havard ! ” he continued, ” he has a wife and several children.” And his eyes filled with tears.
” Must his wife be a widow, then, and his children orphans ? ” asked Balsamo.
” Wait, wait ! “
He clasped his hands.
” No, no ! ” he exclaimed, his features lighting up with an expression of sublime faith. ” No ; his wife and children have prayed, and their prayers have found favor in the sight of God.”
” Then he will recover ? “
” Yes.”
“You hear, gentlemen,” said Balsamo; “he will recover.”
” Ask him in how many days,” said Marat.
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” In how many days, do you say ? “
” Yes, you said he could indicate the phases, and the duration of his convalescence.”
” I ask nothing better than to question him on the subject.”
” Well, then, question him now.”
” And when do you think Havard will recover ? ” said Balsamo.
” Oh ! his cure will take a long time, a month, six weeks, two months. He entered this hospital five days ago, and he will leave it two months and fourteen days after hav-ing entered.”
” And he will leave it cured ? “
” Yes.”
” But,” said Marat, ” unable to work, and consequently to maintain his wife and children.”
Havard again clasped his hands.
” Oh ! God is good, God will provide for him.”
” And how will God provide for him ? ” asked Marat. ” As I am in the way of hearing something new to-day, I might as well hear that.”
” God has sent to his bedside a charitable man who has taken pity upon him, and who has said to himself, e Poor Havard shall not want “
The spectators were amazed; Balsamo smiled.
” Ha ! this is in truth a strange scene,” said the chief surgeon, at the same time taking the patient’s hand, feeling his chest and forehead ; ” this man in dreaming.”
” Do you think so ? ” said Balsamo.
Then darting upon the sick man a look of authority and energy :
” Awake, Havard ! ” said he.
The young man opened his eyes with some difficulty, and gazed with profound surprise upon all these spectators, who had so soon laid aside their threatening character, and assumed an inoffensive one toward him.
” Well,” said he, sadly, ” have you not operated yet ? Are you going to make me suffer still more ? “
Balsamo replied hastily. He feared the invalid’s emotion. But there was no need for such haste j the surprise
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of all the spectators was so great that none would have anticipated him.
” My friend,” said he, ” be calm. The head-surgeon has operated upon your leg in such a manner as to satisfy all the requirements of your position. It seems, my poor fellow, that you are not very strong-minded, for you fainted at the first incision.”
” Oh, so much the better,” said the Breton, smilingly ; ” I felt nothing, and my sleep was even sweet and refreshing. What happiness ! my leg will not be cut off.”
But just at that moment the poor man looked down, and saw the bed full of blood, and his amputated leg lying near him. He uttered a scream, and this time fainted in reality.
” Now question him,” said Balsamo, coldly, to Marat, “you will see if he replies.”
Then, taking the head-surgeon aside, while the nurses carried the poor young man back to his bed :
” Sir,” said Balsamo, ” you heard what your poor patient said?”
” Yes, sir, that he would recover.”
” He said something else ; he said that God would take pity upon him, and would send him wherewithal to support his wife and children.”
“Well?”
” Well, sir, he told the truth on this point as on the others. Only you must undertake to be the charitable medium of affording him this assistance. Here is a diamond worth about twenty thousand livres; when the poor man is cured, sell it and give him the proceeds. In the meantime, since the soul, as your pupil, Monsieur Marat, said very truly, has a great influence upon the body, tell Havard as soon as he is restored to consciousness that his future comfort and that of his children is secured.”
” But, sir,” said the surgeon, hesitating to take the ring which Balsamo offered him, “if he should not recover ? “
” He will recover.”
” Then allow me at least to give you a receipt.”
” Sir ! “
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” That is the only condition upon which I can receive a jewel of such value.”
” Do as you think right, sir.”
” Your name, if you please ? “
” The Count de Fenix.”
The surgeon passed into the adjoining apartment while Marat, overwhelmed, confounded, but still struggling against the evidence of his senses, approached Balsamo.
In five minutes the surgeon returned, holding in his hand the following receipt, which he gave Balsamo:
” I have received from the Count de Fenix a diamond, which he affirms to be worth twenty thousand livres, the price of which is to be given to the man Havard when he leaves the Hotel Dieu.
” This 15th of September, 1771.
“GUILLOTIN, M.‘D.”
Balsamo bowed to the doctor, took the receipt, and left the room, followed by Marat.
