Halpersohn, who for five or six years was called a quack on account of his powders and herb medicines, had the innate science of a great physician.Not only had he studied much and observed much, but he had travelled in every part of Germany, Russia, Persia, and Turkey, whence he had gathered many a traditionary secret; and as he knew chemistry he became a living volume of those wonderful recipes scattered among the wise women, or, as the French call them, the /bonnes femmes/, of every land to which his feet had gone, following his father, a perambulating trader.
It must not be thought that the scene in "The Talisman" where Saladin cures the King of England is a fiction.Halpersohn possesses a silk purse which he steeps in water till the liquid is slightly colored;certain fevers yield immediately when the patient has drunk the prescribed dose of it.The virtue of plants, according to his man, is infinite, and the cure of the worst diseases possible.Nevertheless, he, like the rest of his professional brethren, stops short at certain incomprehensibilities.Halpersohn approved of the invention of homoeopathy, more on account of its therapeutics than for its medical system; he was corresponding at this time with Hedenius of Dresden, Chelius of Heidelburg, and the celebrated German doctors, all the while holding his hand closed, though it was full of discoveries.He wished for no pupils.
The frame was in keeping with this embodiment of a Rembrandt picture.
The study, hung with a paper imitating green velvet, was shabbily furnished with a green divan, the cover of which was threadbare.Aworn-out green carpet was on the floor.A large armchair of black leather, intended for clients, stood before the window, which was draped with green curtains.A desk chair of Roman shape, made in mahogany and covered with green morocco, was the doctor's own seat.
Between the fireplace and the long table at which he wrote, a common iron safe stood against the wall, and on it was a clock of Viennese granite, surmounted by a group in bronze representing Cupid playing with Death, the present of a great German sculptor whom Halpersohn had doubtless cured.On the mantel-shelf was a vase between two candlesticks, and no other ornament.On either side of the divan were corner-buffets of ebony, holding plates and dishes, and Godefroid also noticed upon them two silver bowls, glass decanters, and napkins.
This simplicity, which amounted almost to bareness struck Godefroid, whose quick eye took it all in as he recovered his self-possession.
"Monsieur, I am, as you say, perfectly well myself; I have come on behalf of a woman to whom you were asked to pay a visit some time ago.
She lives on the boulevard du Mont-Parnasse.""Ah! yes; the lady who has sent her son here several times.Well, monsieur, let her come here to me.""Come here!" repeated Godefroid, indignantly."Monsieur, she cannot even be moved from her bed to a chair; they lift her with pulleys.""You are not a physician, I suppose?" said the Jewish doctor, with a singular grimace which made his face appear more wicked than it really was.
"If the Baron de Nucingen sent word that he was ill and wanted you to visit him, would you reply, 'Let him come here to me'?""I should go to him," said the Jew, coldly, spitting into a Dutch pot made of mahogany and full of sand.
"You would go," said Godefroid, gently, "because the Baron de Nucingen has two millions a year, and--""The rest has nothing to do with the matter; I should go.""Well, monsieur, you must go to the lady on the boulevard du Mont-Parnasse for the same reason.Without possessing the fortune of the Baron du Nucingen, I am here to tell you that you may yourself put a price upon this lady's cure, or upon your attendance if you fail; I am ready to pay it in advance.But perhaps, monsieur, as you are a Polish refugee and, I believe, a communist, the lady's parentage may induce you to make a sacrifice to Poland.She is the granddaughter of Colonel Tarlowski, the friend of Poniatowski.""Monsieur, you came here to ask me to cure that lady, and not to give me advice.In Poland I am a Pole; in Paris I am Parisian.Every man does good in his own way; the greed with which I am credited is not without its motive.The wealth I am amassing has its destination; it is a sacred one.I sell health; the rich can afford to purchase it, and I make them pay.The poor have their doctors.If I had not a purpose in view I would not practise medicine.I live soberly and Ispend my time in rushing hither and thither; my natural inclination is to be lazy, and I used to be a gambler.Draw your conclusions, young man.You are too young still to judge old men."Godefroid was silent.
"From what you say," went on the doctor, "the lady in question is the granddaughter of that imbecile who had no courage but that of fighting, and who took part in delivering over his country to Catherine II?""Yes, monsieur."
"Well, be at her house Monday next at three o'clock," said Halpersohn, taking out a note-book in which he wrote a few words."You will give me then two hundred francs; and if I promise to cure the patient you will give me three thousand.I am told," he added, "that the lady has shrunk to almost nothing.""Monsieur, if the most celebrated doctors in Paris are to be believed, it is a neurotic case of so extraordinary a nature that they denied the possibility of its symptoms until they saw them.""Ah! yes, I remember now what the young lad told me.To-morrow, monsieur."Godefroid withdrew, after bowing to the man who seemed to him as odd as he was extraordinary.Nothing about him indicated a physician, not even the study, in which the most notable object was the iron safe, made by Huret or Fichet.
Godefroid had just time to get to the passage Vivienne before the shops closed for the day, and there he bought a superb accordion, which he ordered sent at once to Monsieur Bernard, giving the address.
