CHAPTER VII.

THE VISION OF VICTORIA.

When the room was cleared of the presence of Tetrik the Mother of the Camps said to her servant, just as the latter was about to leave close upon the heels of Tetrik:

"Mora, my breast is afire. Bring me a cup of water with some honey, to cool me and slake my thirst."

The servant hurriedly nodded her head and vanished with Tetrik, who lingered for a moment at the threshold.

"Oh, my brother!" murmured Victoria despondently when we were again alone. "My long struggle with that man has exhausted me--the sight of evil lames my energies--I feel broken--"

"Want of sleep, excitement, the horror that the sight of Tetrik inspired you with--all this has rendered you feverish. Take a little rest, sister; I shall instantly transcribe your conversation with the man. This very evening justice will be done."

"You are right; I think that if I could sleep a while I should feel relieved. Go, brother, but do not leave the house."

"Would you like Sampso to keep you company?"

"No, I prefer to be alone."

Mora re-entered. She carried a cup filled with the beverage that her mistress had ordered. The latter took the cup and drained its contents with avidity. Leaving my foster-sister to the care of her servant, I went back to my room in order to reproduce the words of Tetrik accurately. I was just about finishing the task, which took me nearly two hours, when Mora dashed in pale and frightened.

"Schanvoch!" she cried panting for breath. "Come! Come quick! Drop your writing! Hasten to my mistress!"

"What is the matter! What has happened?"

"My mistress. Oh! Woe! Woe! Come quick!"

"Victoria! Does any danger threaten her?" I cried, hurrying to the apartment of my foster-sister, while Mora followed me, saying:

"She sent me out of the room--she wanted to be alone. A minute ago I went in--and, woe is me! I saw my poor mistress--"

"Finish speaking--you saw Victoria--"

"I saw her lying on her bed--her eyes open--but they were fixed--she seemed dead--"

I shall never forget the frightful sight that struck my eyes as I stepped into Victoria's chamber. As Mora said, she lay stretched upon her bed motionless, livid, like a corpse. Her fixed, yet sparkling eyes, seemed to have sunk into their orbits; her features, painfully contracted, were of the cold whiteness of marble. A sinister thought flashed through my mind like lightning--Victoria was dying of poison!

"Mora!" I cried throwing myself upon my knees beside the couch of the Mother of the Camps. "Send immediately for the druid physician, and run and tell Sampso to come here!"

The servant rushed out. I took one of Victoria's hands. It was limp and icy.

"Sister! It is I!" I cried--"Schanvoch!"

"Brother," she murmured.

As I heard her muffled, feeble voice, methought the answer proceeded from the bottom of a tomb. A moment later, her eyes, that until then were fixed, turned slowly towards me. The divine intelligence that formerly illumined the beautiful, august and sweet look of my foster-sister seemed extinguished. Nevertheless, by degrees, she recovered consciousness, and said:

"Is it you--brother? I am dying--"

Tossing her head painfully from one side to the other as if seeking something, she made an effort to raise her arm; it dropped immediately beside her; she then proceeded to say:

"See yonder large trunk--open it--you will find in it--a bronze casket--bring it to me--"

I did as I was bid, and deposited a rather heavy bronze casket near her on the couch. At that moment Sampso, whom Mora notified of Victoria's condition, came in.

"Sampso," said Victoria, "take this casket--take it away with you--keep it carefully locked--open it in three days--the key is tied to the lid."

And addressing me:

"Did you transcribe Tetrik's conversation with me?"

"I was just finishing it when Mora ran in to me."

"Sampso, take that casket away to your room immediately, and bring me the parchment on which Schanvoch has just been writing. Go, we have not a minute to spare!"

Sampso obeyed and left the room distracted. I remained alone with Victoria.

"Brother," she said to me, "every minute is precious. Listen to what I have to say to you without interrupting me. I feel that I am dying; I think I know the hand that smote me, without her being herself aware of what she was doing. This crime caps a long series of dark and felonious deeds. My death is at this moment a grave danger to Gaul. We must avert the danger. You are known in the army--my confidence in you is known--call the officers and soldiers together--inform them of Tetrik's schemes. The conversation that you transcribed will be signed by me, in order to verify your words. My life is ebbing fast. Oh! If I but had the time to gather here around my death-bed the officers of the army who this very evening will surround my funeral pyre. Upon that pyre I wish you to lay the arms of my father, my husband and Victorin, also the cradle of my little grandson!"

"Schanvoch!" cried Sampso precipitately entering the room, "The parchments that you left upon the table--have disappeared. But I saw them lying on your desk when Mora came in to call me. They must have been taken away since."

"The parchments were taken away! Oh! What a misfortune to Gaul!" murmured Victoria. "What mysterious hand is it that can thus penetrate my house? Woe, woe is Gaul! Hesus! Omnipotent god! You call me to the unknown worlds, where, perhaps, we may hover over this world that we leave for yonder ones. Hesus! Am I to leave this earth without the assurance of the welfare of the country I love so much? The future terrifies me! Oh, Omnipotent! Allow your spirit to enlighten me at this supreme moment! Hesus, have you heard me?" added Victoria in a louder voice, half rising on her couch; and with inspired eyes she proceeded: "What do I see? Is this the future that unveils itself before my eyes? Who is that woman--so pale, lying prostrate? Her robe is blood-bespattered. Also her chaplet of oaken leaves has drops of blood; the sword, that her virile hand once held, lies broken at her side. One of those savage Franks, his head ornamented with a crown, holds the noble woman under his knees; he looks with mild and timid mien at a man splendidly arrayed as a pontiff. Hesus! The bleeding woman--is Gaul! The barbarian who kneels down upon her--is a Frankish king! The pontiff--is the Bishop of Rome! Blood flows! a stream of blood! it carries in its course, to the light of the flames of conflagrations, a mass of ruins, thousands of corpses! Oh! the woman--Gaul, I see her again wan, worn, clad in rags, the iron collar of servitude on her neck; she drags herself on her knees; bending under a heavy burden! The Frankish king and the Roman bishop quicken the march of enslaved Gaul with their whips! Another torrent of blood; still the glamour of conflagration. Oh, Hesus! Enough! Enough ruins and massacre! Heaven be praised!" cried Victoria, whose face seemed for a moment to beam with divine splendor. "The noble woman has risen to her feet! Behold her--more beautiful, prouder than ever before! Her head is wreathed in a crown of fresh oak-leaves! In one hand she holds a sheaf of grain, grapes and flowers; in the other a red flag,[4] surmounted by the Gallic cock. Superbly she tramples under foot the fragments of her collar of slavery, the crown of the Frankish kings and that of the Roman pontiffs! Yes, that woman, free at last, stately, glorious and fruitful--she is Gaul! Hesus! Hesus! Be kind to her! Enable her to break the yoke of Kings and Pontiffs! Lead her to freedom, glorious and fruitful without being compelled to reach the goal by wading from century to century through those seas of tears, those seas of blood that affright me!"

These last words wholly exhausted Victoria's strength. Still she made one more effort in her divine exaltation. She raised her eyes to heaven, crossed her arms over her breast, heaved a long sigh, and fell back upon her couch.

The Mother of the Camps, Victoria the Great, was dead!

While she spoke I made superhuman efforts to control my despair. When, however, I saw her expire, I became dizzy, my knees sank under me, my strength, my thoughts fled. I lost consciousness, but I still recollect the sound of many voices and a great tumult in the contiguous apartment whence I heard distinctly the words:

"Tetrik, the Chief of Gaul, is in his death agony--he is dying of poison--"