could only attract the attention of such a man. Attractive enough for Saint Croix to chase away from him his guardian angel! He did also not miss, soon enough, to get into the Marquis' favour through flattering. As soon as the military campaign was over, the Marquis led him to his house.
The husband's friend would, soon, become the wife's lover, and his principles found their ways with the Marquis's inclination which he knew to influence. The Marquis, very dissolute to pay attention to his wife, was totally careless about her behaviour; and the two lovers had free room to do whatever they wanted.
The Marquis brought, finally, his household into such a turmoil, that it would be allowed his wife to take back her fortune and to administer it herself.
With this last step, she believed herself justified to remove her life away from all further external scrutiny and to give in to her inclination without any constraint.
People spoke, soon, loudly about her frequent company with Saint Croix. The Marquis heard the rumours with the greatest indifference. Only that Lord of Aubray, for his daughter's honour, was more than worried about her marriage, and hence, decided to imprison her lover and arrested him as he, unsuspecting, precisely sat in a coach with the Marquess. He would spent a whole year at the Bastille.
In an unfortunate manner, this imprisonment gave in his hand the most terrible means for revenge. At the Bastille, he made the acquaintance of a certain Exili, an Italian who nurtured in him the desire for revenge and taught him, at the same time, the means to achieve it without being punished. “The Frenchs” he said, “act too honestly in their crimes, and also execute their revenge with so little skill that they always become the victim of their own revenge. They give the blow to their enemy with so much publicity that they attract themselves a far more horrible death than the one which they reserve for their enemy; while they, at the same time, lose fortune and honour. The Italians are more refined in their revenge.
They have made it into such an art that they could prepare poisons which cannot be traced even by the most skillful doctor. They are capable to cause a rapid or a long death, according to their goal. In both cases, no traces can be found; and even if some traces are found, hence are they so ambiguous that people can also prescribe them to the most common disease, and in the prevailing uncertainty about these undetermined symptoms which they find in their anatomical investigations, the doctors explain the patient's death not otherwise than with some general excuses, some hidden diseases, terrible fortuities, unhealthy vapors and so on, which they always have at hand. This is really the true art of knowing to account human being's crimes to Nature.”
Saint Croix seized with the greatest eagerness such a favourable occasion to arm himself with such invisible tools of revenge, through which he would satisfy not only his bitter hatred without any danger, but rather, at the same time, could also bring an immense fortune, at once, in the hands of a wife who would share it with him with pleasure. During his imprisonment, he had enough time to learn the Italian's horrible art thoroughly.
These lessons filled, now, the empty hours of the two prisoners. The skillfulness of the teacher and the zeal of the student, fueled by love, revenge and avidity in equal strength, gave wings to the progress of the last one, and even before he left the Bastille, he became a master in this infernal discovery.
The first victim which he chose was Lord Aubray, the Marquess' father. Apart from the fact that at a certain time, this severe judge of morals has disturbed him in the middle of his enjoyment when the husband was either completely blind, or hence totally indifferent; he was, now, standing again everywhere disturbingly in the way of his company with the Marquess and hindered him again to enjoy the sweet fruits of his passion which did not dampen with his imprisonment, but rather was even more exacerbated.
Two of the most excessive passions demanded from him, hence, at the same time, to get rid of such an over-imposing supervision. Only that it was not enough for him to murder his enemy; this enemy should die through the hand of his own daughter. And the Marquess was despicable enough to accept to be the executioner of her own father, only because it was burdensome to her to have his rigorous supervision and his constraints being constantly imposed upon her excesses.
It is unbelievable to what degree of vice a unique, dominating passion can lead a man. Made into a shameful villain by her voluptuous inclination, a daughter can suppress the strongest feeling which Nature has put in us, and resolve to be her father's murderer.
But this was still not enough! In order not to miss her blow, she resolved, beforehand, into some practice which was more abominable than the crime itself. Indoctrinated by the principles of her lover and anointed into the secrets of his infernal art, the Marquess practiced herself, long beforehand, into the most unheard of experiences to reach her goal even more securely.
Her first experiences, she practiced on animals. But her main intention was directed onto human beings; hence, she did not really enjoy these first experiences. She feared that the great difference between the human and animal body constitutions could make her art approximate. She undertook, hence, to previously study them onto human beings themselves! To this end, she distributed poisoned cookies among the poors, and even brought some of these deadly presents in church, to be able to observe with her own eyes the first effects of the same onto sick people.
In the meantime, as her intelligence did not allow her to witness all the effects and symptoms of the poison herself; hence, she resolved finally to make a test with her young maid. She gave her a dish with poisoned berries and pork. The unfortunate maid would become seriously ill, however, still did not die. A fact which would tell Saint Croix that his poison needed still some supplemental dose to be infallible.
She repeated these experiences still methodically with other people to study the effect of her poison on different bodies. Mme of Sévigné made the following descriptions in her letters about these experiences. “The Brinvilliers”, she said, “prepared for their guests sometimes poisoned dove pâté, not to kill them immediately, but rather only to see the effects of the poisons on them. Many more of them, however, died really of the poisons. The Knight of Guet has once taken such a dish. The poison acted upon him, however, very slowly; he died only two or three years later.
As this unfortunate woman was already in prison, she inquired whether he has actually died or not; and as people answered to her that he was still alive, she replied: ”He actually does have a tenacious life.” Lord of Rochefoucault told people that this was a truly authentic incident.”
Hardened already into vice by a range of such unheard-of abominations and confident of not missing her goal through a long exercise; she resolved, finally, to perform the blow against determined victims. It was not difficult for her to find the appropriate occasion. As a scholarly student of Saint Croix, she has made such rapid progressions in the art of deceiving people that she has already for long overcame the reluctance of killing her father who has been very irritated by her behaviour.
Since her lover was brought to Bastille, she has changed her conduct with so much fineness that her father, soon, again, would be completely reconciled with her; and as afterwards, she was also enough cautious not to allow him to guess the continuation of her affair with Saint Croix; hence, she possessed now his whole tenderness and his unlimited trust.
As one day he resolved to retire for a few days from his difficult office on his estate in Offemont, the Marquess had to accompany him. She has made herself indispensable to him. He had entrusted her with the care of his body which was already weakened by work and age; without her, he would not enjoy this pleasure of staying in the countryside. There, in this sacred place of haven, in the middle of the most moving sentimental atmosphere of fatherly love, the Marquess gave to her father the cup of death.
From the beginning, in order not to arouse the slightest suspicion, she immediately took care of her father. Who else could better care for such a dear life than such a tender daughter? She supervised herself all the soups to be prepared for him; she gave them to him with her own hands.
No trait in her face would betray the unnatural crime which was already prepared in her soul. Rather more, she seemed only to watch with redoubled vigilance over the wellbeing of her unfortunate father to whose destruction she already has prepared the stab. Finally, she