The Double Life

“‘Let us wish, my friend, to reach that domain of the dead. It will be life. For there there are always a number of people. It is much frequented. But we are not there. What is one kilometer of dead men’s bones in five hundred?’

“‘Clearly! How many kilometers do you think we have made, M. Mifroid?’

“‘We have made nine.’

“‘What are nine kilometers in five hundred?’

“I induced M. Longuet not to make these useless calculations, and he begged me to tell him the story of the ‘Jailer’ and that of the ‘Four Soldiers.’

“That made two histories which were not very long in telling. There were only a few words in the first. There was once a jailer of the catacombs who became lost in the catacombs. They found his corpse eight days later. The second related to four soldiers of the Val-de-Graces, who were descending, by the aid of a cord, into a well of eighty meters. They were in the catacombs, and as they did not reappear some drummers were sent down, who made the greatest noise that they could with their drums, but in the catacombs sound does not carry, and no one responded to the rolling. They hunted, and at the end of forty hours they found them dying in a blind alley.

“‘They had no moral courage,’ said Théophraste.

“‘They were foolish,’ I added. ‘Whoever is foolish enough to wander into the catacombs deserves no pity.’

“We were by this time come to a crossway, and M. Longuet turned to ask which way we would follow.

“I could answer him without delay. I said:

“‘Here are two galleries; which are you going to take? One goes almost directly back to our starting-point, the other directly away from it.’ As our design was to go away from our starting-point, M. Longuet showed me the first gallery.

“‘I was sure of it!’ I exclaimed. ‘But you disregard the entire principle. The experimental method has for centuries demonstrated that at the bottom of the catacombs all individuals who wish to come back to their point of setting out (to the entrance of the catacombs) go away from it; then the whole logic of it is, to go away from one’s point of starting out, one must take the way which apparently brings one back to it.’ And so we decided on the gallery which seemed to us to bring us back over our steps, so we were sure of not having made a useless trip. That system was excellent, for it led us into a certain region of the catacombs that no one had visited before, since the fourteenth century, otherwise it would have been known.”

CHAPTER XXXII

A Dissertation on Fish

M. LONGUET had from the first been complaining of his great hunger. He was getting very weak, and the end of the thirty-sixth hour saw him cursing their misfortune. However, what would have been the good of a little food? They were buried alive, and food would have been like a buoy to a shipwrecked sailor, alone in the middle of the ocean. It could only serve to prolong the agony.

M. Mifroid was more philosophical. He said that if there had been anything to eat to give them strength to continue their way, he would have been the first to suggest their stopping. But, with the exception of some mushrooms, probably poisonous, that his watchful eye had seen, there was nothing, so he urged M. Longuet to tramp on. M. Longuet, however, was unreasonable; he said he was hungry, and yet did not seem able to exert himself to get out of the catacombs.

He asked M. Mifroid question after question as to the catacombs and what he could eat to stay his terrible hunger. M. Mifroid tried to keep him interested by telling him of a visit he had made to the laboratory in the catacombs of M. M. Edwards. He told him of the fauna and the flora in obscure and cavernous places, of which, if necessary, he could make a meal.

Although the conversation was in vain, as far as its effects on Théophraste were concerned, M. Mifroid kept on. Hungry men are always eager to talk of things to eat, and although he didn’t wish to acknowledge his hunger, he spoke of these things, and in endeavoring to put spirit into Théophraste allayed his own feelings.

“My dear friend,” said he to Théophraste, “it may be that even if we don’t get out of the catacombs we will not die of hunger. There is a stream somewhere here, and I have heard that there are certain fishes therein. They are not large fish, but there are incalculable quantities of them. They are of different sizes, and are not unpleasant to taste.”

“Have you seen them?” asked Théophraste.

“No; but my friend, M. Edwards, told me about them when I visited the Fountain of the Fanaisetan.”

“Is that far from here?”

“I can’t tell you just now-all that I know is that this fountain was constructed in 1810 by M. Hericourt de Thury, engineer of the subterranean quarries. This fountain is inhabited by the cope-podes.”

“Are they fish?”

“Yes, they present some very singular modifications of tissues and colorative. They have a beautiful red eye. That is why they are called cyclops. That this fish has only one eye ought not to astonish you, for the asellus aquaticus, which lives as well in the running water of the catacombs, is a small isopode aquatic, which often has no eyes at all. Many species have, instead of an eye, only a small red pig snout; others have not a trace of one. They do not need to see clearly, since they live in darkness. Nature is perfect, and never found wanting. It only gives eyes to those who can use them, and does not give them to those to whom they are unnecessary.”

Théophraste was struck by M. Mifroid’s words.

“Then,” said he, “if we continue to live in the catacombs we will end by not having eyes!”

“Evidently we will commence to lose the use of our sight and eventually become blind.”

Then Théophraste insisted upon M. Mifroid continuing his talk on these fish that could be found in the catacombs, and which they would, perhaps, have to eat. He was thus induced to give a sort of lecture on the modifications of the organs, and their excessive development, or their atrophy, following the ways frequented by individuals.

He continued: “So the fish of which I speak have no eyes. Their sense organs present modifications. For instance, the asellus aquaticus, even of the normal species, is armed with small, flat organs, terminated by a pore, that are considered olfactory organs. They are veritable olfactory cudgels, and these very fish which do not see know the space around them as well, possibly better, than if they could see in the light, so perfectly developed are these olfactory and tactile organs. Yes, my dear Théophraste, there are circumstances in the lives of some living things where the nose takes the place of the eyes, and the nose can thus acquire perfectly incredible dimensions. In the wells of Padirac there was found an asellide which possessed olfactory cudgels of an amazing length.”

“Are there none in the running waters of the catacombs?” demanded Théophraste.

“No, none at all. Yet there are found many sorts of cavernical fish, such, for example, as the niphugus puleamus, and this is found in great abundance. Their ocular organs are atrophied.”

This, however, did not interest Théophraste, who had got his own idea.

“Do you know how they fish for them?” he asked.

“I cannot say,” said Mif roid; “but we can surely get some sort of bait from the surrounding vege-matter.”

In a little while they both fell asleep, dreaming of this water which was to bring them relief. However, though their dreams were pleasant enough, there were surprises for them when they awoke.

CHAPTER XXXIII

The Meeting of the Talfa

THEY had been sleeping on a soft soil or decayed vegetable matter, the sight of which had drawn from M. Mifroid the remark that it was a good omen for the near future. Their travels up to the present had been without incident, except for some differences of opinion between them. The subterranean galleries, lit up by the electric lamps, were sometimes vast, sometimes straight, sometimes rounded out like the vault of a cathedral, then square and regular, and so narrow that they had to crawl on their knees to get through. They had by this time become silent, except for a remark or two upon the variety of the strata they were passing through. Here was rock, here clay, here sand, and so on.

It could not, however, last much longer. For forty-eight hours they had been walking, without coming across any water. M. Mifroid, however, hoped on, and we will soon see how justified he was. He hoped at least to come across some water or vegetation.

They estimated it to be about four o’clock in the afternoon, when Théophraste rose, and, tightening his belt, prepared to start on another tramp. This time he did not speak of his hunger or thirst, but walked on in that silence which weakness brings on men. They had been walking about an hour when it was noticed that the temperature had become much higher, and they both involuntarily took off their coats. Soon the perspiration began to pour off their foreheads, and they began to wonder how this change could have come about. Were they going toward the center of the earth? How could it be accounted for? In two hours the temperature had risen from 60 to 90 degrees Fahrenheit. M. Mifroid knew of some galleries 79 meters below the ground, but who could estimate what depth they were at now?

Their electric lamps spread their brilliancy around them as they advanced, now discussing the cause of this phenomenon. Suddenly the walls of the galleries spread out, and they found themselves in a cave of such large dimensions that even with their strong lights they could not see the farther ends. What was their joy and amazement when they found before them a beautiful lake, the banks of which were covered with a thick carpet of moss, and in the crystal transparency of which they saw fish with beautifully colored scales. The fish had no eyes, and did not appear timid. They disported themselves in the water, coming quite close to where the two astonished men stood. They could easily catch them by leaning over. A flock of ducks were swimming about in the enchanted water.

M. Théophraste wept with joy on seeing this wonderful sight, and cried out softly, for he was afraid of disturbing them: “My friend, what did I say? Isn’t this better than all earthly scenes?”

M. Mifroid felt somewhat humiliated at not knowing this before, but soon regained his influence over Théophraste, who was beginning to get excited over this wonderful sight. He made him sit down on the bank, so as not to frighten the ducks, and began explaining to him that what they saw was quite natural. He explained that it was caused by the soil, and that the water had collected here by the action of the heat.

Théophraste was for throwing himself into the water at once, and would have done so if they had not suddenly seen a sight which riveted them to the very ground. Neither of them spoke. Their tongues were paralyzed. Their electric light revealed, far ahead of them, but not far enough for them to lose a single detail, the figure of a woman. She was quite naked, and had her back toward them. Never before had they seen a form so elegant and so graceful.

This first view, however, lasted only an instant, for she threw herself into the water and swam away with the grace and ease of a swan.

The apparition had the effect of making them forget the ducks, and they both forgot the hunger which gnawed at their vitals. They had hoped that she would not vanish, and that their presence would remain unnoticed.

After several plunges, the nymph, shaking the pearly drops from her beautiful body into the sleeping waters, emerged not far away from where they stood, but always with her back turned.

What quarry of Carrara ever gave to the world more precious or purer a marble? By what miracle of the divine fires can we contemplate those lines of definitive beauty? It was the form of a Greek statue, and her arms were as graceful as one could wish to imagine on the Venus de Milo.

They waited in silence for her to turn around, while she disported herself on the green moss. Soon their curiosity was satisfied, and she suddenly turned. Neither of them could restrain a cry of horror, which made the Venus plunge back into the water. She had no eyes, and there was nothing in their place. Her ears, which were hidden from their sight by the profusion of hair, stood out like horns. But that which terrified them most was her enormous, snout-like red nose.

They had hardly recovered from their first surprise when another young female, clothed in a light tunic, came unexpectedly on the bank, holding in her arms a long gown. She also had a nose like the other, and no eyes.

The Venus came toward her companion on the bank, and the latter said: “They are silent now, and not saying a word.”

“Ha, Saint Mary, they shall have no pardon! They are traitors. Do you know what our people are doing? Go and find out; I want to know.” She spoke in the purest French of the fourteenth century, and the delicacy and sweetness of her voice was like the rippling water of a brook. The two men watched and listened in amazement. They stood still and stared before them. They felt that a great miracle was being wrought.

Suddenly they were surrounded by thirty or more men, who seemed to have come from out of the very rocks. They stood around them, gesticulating and talking vehemently, but in very low voices. They too had no eyes, but their ears were developed to a surprising size. On each of their hands they had ten fingers, and they had ten toes to each foot. As they came into the glare of the electric light, they held their hands up to their red snouts, as if they had smelled a disagreeable odor. They all mumbled in half-audible tones: “Lady Jane de Montfort, Demoiselle de Coucy,” and it was easy to see that they referred to the ladies who had been disturbed. As they passed they felt the faces of the two men. They just touched them lightly, and in doing so moved away in an apologetic way. It seemed as if they were curiosities. They felt their eyes, their noses, and their ears, and some of them even put their fingers down their ears. It was evident they could not understand the smallness of their features.

Then one of them addressed M. Mifroid, and while apologizing for their curiosity, said he was astonished at their want of beauty.

By this time Lady Jane de Montfort and Demoiselle de Coucy were dressed, and M. Mifroid and M. Théophraste were presented to them.

The two men begged a thousand pardons for their intrusion, and were about to explain their intrusion, when Demoiselle de Coucy took Théophraste by the arm, and Lady Jane took M. Mifroid, and they were conducted through the vaults surrounded by the crowd of men. It was difficult for them to prevent the men from poking their eyes out as they fumbled over their faces.

They had been forty-eight hours without food, and their hunger was extreme, and now they were to be taken away from where there was food.

The two women had taken possession of their lamps under the pretext of being troubled by the odor.

They tried to tell the people that they were exhausted, but so many questions were put to them that no opportunity presented itself.

They had by this time reached a large chamber. There was a dull light, and they felt the presence of thousands of people. M. Mifroid managed to get one of the lamps, and quickly pressing the button, lit up the vast hall, in which were crowded thousands of these weird men, all with the large noses and ears, but with no eyes. Some of them walked on all fours, and some had such long noses that they looked like pelicans.

Finally they were informed that they were at the entrance to the meeting hall.

CHAPTER XXXIV

M. Mifroid Performs on the Stage

ONE would never have expected to drop from one of the numberless ways in the catacombs into a city of twenty thousand inhabitants. However, upon reflection, one would wonder why men, taken out of their natural environment, would not be susceptible to the same natural changes as the animals.

Arajo relates to us how he saw flocks of blind ducks come out of the caverns of the subterranean lake of Zirhnitz. One is bound to believe that these ducks were the products of ducks which once saw clearly, but which were shut up by some accident in the bowels of the earth, in the midst of obscure waters. And so there is some logic in the theory that if the family of a man in the first years of the fourteenth century was by accident confined in the catacombs, it would live there and produce offspring. At the end of the third generation they would have forgotten the existence of the open world. Of course they would continue to speak the language, and as no strange element would mix with it, it would preserve its purity through centuries.

Then in the darkness they would lose the use of their eyes, but develop their sense of touch as blind men do. Hence the excess of digits on their hands and feet. Then the loss of one sense always develops all the other senses in proportion. After centuries these super-developed senses become abnormal, and the nose and ears develop accordingly in size.

And so it was with these people of the Talfa. Their features had developed to an extraordinary extent, and their idea of beauty in the human form was based on the excessive development of these features. Demoiselle de Coucy was considered the most beautiful of all the Talfa.

They had entered the large meeting room, and M. Mifroid attempted to again light his lamp, but the crowd cried out in such disgust that he was persuaded to keep it out. He endeavored to converse with those near by. Their names were among the most illustrious in France at the time of the Battle of Crecy. But they addressed themselves in a tone so ineffably sweet, and all the uproar they tried to make resulted in an enchanting murmur. It was difficult to imagine that such sweet and honeyed words could emanate from such ugly beings.

M. Mifroid was seated on a chair next to Lady Jane de Montfort, who continually felt his face and touched his ears. While her curiosity was great she approached him with such delicate gracefulness that he hadn’t the heart to restrain her.

Soon there was a great silence, and a concert began. To Mifroid and Théophraste nothing was to be heard. Occasionally the people applauded quietly, but the absolute silence of the performers was a striking feature. Not a word was heard.

Soon there was much talking again around the two men, and they learned that it was intended that they should go down on the stage. This was the reason why they had been dragged to the meeting hall. They were to be exhibited as a phenomenon. Théophraste willingly consented, as his companion had promised him a good duck for dinner. M. Mifroid was not so easily persuaded, but at last acquiesced, and they descended to the stage. They all clamored for a song, and M. Mifroid started one of the old French songs of the fourteenth century, which he had learned as a boy. He had hardly started the first verse, when everybody in the hall called out for him to sing lower.

He started again, this time moderating his voice, but again they called to him to sing lower. The third time he could hardly hear himself, so low was his voice, but this did not satisfy his audience, and he left the platform with his song unfinished. He afterward learned that the sense of hearing of these people was so developed that they could understand silent music.

CHAPTER XXXVI

A New Trade

AFTER the concert the party went out of the hall, and passed on to a striking mansion in which a sumptuous repast was served. M. Mifroid had by this time become quite intimate with the Lady de Montfort. He confessed that he was unable to withstand the allurements of the lady. It must not be forgotten that the darkness was most conducive to the failure of all his honorable intentions. However, we will not dilate upon what happened, but Mme. de Montfort weakened him with her caresses and M. Mifroid at last succumbed to the temptation. After a while she slept, and he opened the door and went out.

Although they had been among the Talfa several hours, neither M. Mifroid nor Théophraste had had the inclination to see what kind of habitation they were in. Weakness and the great crowd of Talfa had prevented them.

M. Théophraste had conducted himself in such a manner during the meal, eating everything to excess, that he had had to be carried out. It was done according to the directions of Mme. de Coucy, who, it is feared, would not at that time have carried on her love intrigues.

Now M. Mifroid found himself alone, and he decided to investigate. As he went out of the room, he realized that he was in a subterranean city.

That which struck him most was the total absence of doors. All the shops were open to the passers-by, and the most precious articles as well as the poorest were exposed for any one to take who wished.

He was very much amused by the profusion of the columns, by the incredible carving in the friezes, by the reliefs and sculptured caps to the pillars. They were so extravagantly flowered, with the lines so intricate, that only a master hand could have worked them. A curious point about all this work was that it only reached as high as a man could touch. Above that point the design mixed in with the vaulting of the catacombs and was left to the imagination. But whatever was seen of this beautiful carving could only be compared with the marvels worked by the early sculptors of India or the ivory-carvers of Burma.

In the search M. Mifroid did not come upon any large building. He had frequently heard Mademoiselle say: “Ah, St. Mary!” And so he tried to find some temple in order to find out what their religion was. His search, however, was in vain. The only building of any size was the concert hall where they had been earlier. It was certainly more wonderful than all the rest, but except for this one example all the architectural marvels were applied to the private buildings. The meanest aperture, the poorest door, were little gems of art. There were no statues in the squares.

M. Mifroid was just starting back to his lady’s house, when he met a party of young Talfa, armed with cross-bows. “Ah!” thought he, “here are the guards.” He was, however, quickly undeceived, for they had smelled the odor from his lamp, and they came up to him. They told him they were going for a hunt. The hunting season started every year on the rising of the waters of the great lake. At this time there were always a lot of rats, which were killed in thousands and used for many different things in the Talfa households.

Thanks to the directions they had given him, he soon found his way back to Lady de Montfort’s house. There he found her waiting at the window, and as soon as he got near her, she waved her handkerchief.

They were soon in conversation again, and he found out that she was not married.

She asked him what he did on the top of the earth, and he told her he was a commissioner of police. She listened intently, and asked what Théophraste did.

“He is a robber,” said M. Mifroid.

Evidently neither a commissioner of police nor a robber was known among the Talfa, and soon the news spread that the two strangers had unknown trades, and a great crowd gathered, who begged them to show them what they did on earth.

M. Mifroid sent to fetch Théophraste.

CHAPTER XXXVI

A Robber is Caught

WHEN Théophraste was brought up to M. Mifroid, he was in a pitiful condition. He had given himself up to the worst debauchery, and was still under the influence of his excesses.

However, M. Mifroid explained to him what was required of him. He had to demonstrate to the Talfa people the duties of a police commissioner, and Théophraste was to act the robber and be arrested. However, owing to Théophraste’s condition, M. Mifroid had his misgivings as to the result of this practical demonstration.

The crowd by this time had assumed enormous proportions, and by special permission an electric lamp was lit. All present held their noses as if the lamp smelled.

Then M. Mifroid instructed Théophraste. He told him to run into a store and take some things, and run out. This was an easy matter, as none of the stores had doors, and Théophraste commenced to act the robber. He ran into a hatter’s and seized all sorts of rat-skin caps. He instinctively put them under his coat, and hid them about his person, looking furtively around him in a most natural way.