BOOK SEVENTH.
CHAPTER 5. THE TWO MEN CLOTHED IN BLACK.
(continued)
"Alas! no," replied Master Jacques, still with his sad
smile; "we have not that consolation. That man is a stone.
We might have him boiled in the Marché aux Pourceaux, before
he would say anything. Nevertheless, we are sparing nothing
for the sake of getting at the truth; he is already thoroughly
dislocated, we are applying all the herbs of Saint John's day;
as saith the old comedian Plautus,--
'Advorsum stimulos, laminas, crucesque, compedesque,
Nerros, catenas, carceres, numellas, pedicas, boias.'
Nothing answers; that man is terrible. I am at my wit's end
over him."
"You have found nothing new in his house?"
"I' faith, yes," said Master Jacques, fumbling in his pouch;
"this parchment. There are words in it which we cannot
comprehend. The criminal advocate, Monsieur Philippe
Lheulier, nevertheless, knows a little Hebrew, which he
learned in that matter of the Jews of the Rue Kantersten,
at Brussels."
So saying, Master Jacques unrolled a parchment. "Give it
here," said the archdeacon. And casting his eyes upon this
writing: "Pure magic, Master Jacques!" he exclaimed.
"'Emen-Hétan!' 'Tis the cry of the vampires when they
arrive at the witches' sabbath. Per ipsum, et cum ipso, et
in ipso! 'Tis the command which chains the devil in hell.
Hax, pax, max! that refers to medicine. A formula against
the bite of mad dogs. Master Jacques! you are procurator
to the king in the Ecclesiastical Courts: this parchment
is abominable."
"We will put the man to the torture once more. Here
again," added Master Jacques, fumbling afresh in his pouch,
"is something that we have found at Marc Cenaine's house."
It was a vessel belonging to the same family as those which
covered Dom Claude's furnace.
"Ah!" said the archdeacon, "a crucible for alchemy."
"I will confess to you," continued Master Jacques, with his
timid and awkward smile, "that I have tried it over the
furnace, but I have succeeded no better than with my own."
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