Within an Inch of His Life | Page 9

or of
good-will. At the first alarm, all the people of the neighborhood had
hurried up, and there were more coming every moment; but there was
no one there to assume the command. They were mainly engaged in

saving the furniture. The boldest tried to get into the rooms, and in a
kind of rage, threw every thing they could lay hold on out of the
window. Thus the courtyard was already half full of beds and
mattresses, chairs and tables, books, linen, and clothes.
An immense clamor greeted the mayor and his companions.
"Here comes the mayor!" cried the peasants, encouraged by his
presence, and all ready to obey him.
M. Seneschal took in the whole situation at a glance.
"Yes, here I am, my friends," he said, "and I thank you for your zeal.
Now we must try not to waste our efforts. The farm buildings and the
workshops are lost: we must give them up. Let us try to save the
dwelling-house. The river is not far. We must form a chain. Everybody
in line,--men and women! And now for water, water! Here come the
engines!"
They really came thundering up: the firemen appeared on the scene.
Capt. Parenteau took the command. At last the mayor was at leisure to
inquire after Count Claudieuse.
"Master is down there," replied an old woman, pointing at a little
cottage with a thatched roof. "The doctor has had him carried there."
"Let us go and see how he is," said the mayor to his two companions.
They stopped at the door of the only room of the cottage. It was a large
room with a floor of beaten clay; while overhead the blackened beams
were full of working tools and parcels of seeds. Two beds with twisted
columns and yellow curtains filled one side: on that on the left hand lay
a little girl, four years old, fast asleep, and rolled up in a blanket,
watched over by her sister, who was two or three years older. On the
other bed, Count Claudieuse was lying, or rather sitting; for they had
supported his back by all the pillows that had been saved from the fire.
His chest was bare, and covered with blood; and a man, Dr. Seignebos,
with his coat off, and his sleeves rolled up above the elbows, was
bending over him, and holding a sponge in one hand and a probe in the
other, seemed to be engaged in a delicate and dangerous operation.
The countess, in a light muslin dress, was standing at the foot of her
husband's bed, pale but admirably composed and resigned. She was
holding a lamp, and moved it to and fro as the doctor directed. In a
corner two servant-women were sitting on a box, and crying, their
aprons turned over their heads.

At last the mayor of Sauveterre overcame his painful impressions, and
entered the room. Count Claudieuse was the first to perceive him, and
said,--
"Ah, here is our good M. Seneschal. Come nearer, my friend; come
nearer. You see the year 1871 is a fatal year. It will soon leave me
nothing but a few handfuls of ashes of all I possessed."
"It is a great misfortune," replied the excellent mayor; "but, after all, it
is less than we apprehended. God be thanked, you are safe!"
"Who knows? I am suffering terribly."
The countess trembled.
"Trivulce!" she whispered in a tone of entreaty. "Trivulce!"
Never did lover glance at his beloved with more tenderness than Count
Claudieuse did at his wife.
"Pardon me, my dear Genevieve, pardon me, if I show any want of
courage."
A sudden nervous spasm seized him; and then he exclaimed in a loud
voice, which sounded like a trumpet,--
"Sir! But sir! Thunder and lightning! You kill me!"
"I have some chloroform here," replied the physician coldly.
"I do not want any."
"Then you must make up your mind to suffer, and keep quiet now; for
every motion adds to your pain."
Then sponging a jet of blood which spurted out from under his knife,
he added,--
"However, you shall have a few minutes rest now. My eyes and my
hand are exhausted. I see I am no longer young."
Dr. Seignebos was sixty years old. He was a small, thin man, with a
bald head and a bilious complexion, carelessly dressed, and spending
his life in taking off, wiping, and putting back again his large gold
spectacles. His reputation was widespread; and they told of wonderful
cures which he had accomplished. Still he had not many friends. The
common people disliked his bitterness; the peasants, his strictness in
demanding his fees; and the townspeople, his political views.
There was a story that one evening, at a public dinner, he had gotten up
and said,