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diff --git a/12461-h/12461-h.htm b/12461-h/12461-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0da0249 --- /dev/null +++ b/12461-h/12461-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8844 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Castles in the Air, by Baroness Emmuska Orczy</title> + +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12461 ***</div> + +<h1>CASTLES IN THE AIR</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Baroness Emmuska Orczy</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_FORE">FOREWORD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0002"><b>CASTLES IN THE AIR</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I. — A ROLAND FOR HIS OLIVER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II. — A FOOL’S PARADISE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III. — ON THE BRINK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV. — CARISSIMO</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V. — THE TOYS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI. — HONOUR AMONG——</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII. — AN OVER-SENSITIVE HEART</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_FORE"></a> +FOREWORD</h2> + +<p> +In presenting this engaging rogue to my readers, I feel that I owe them, if not +an apology, at least an explanation for this attempt at enlisting sympathy in +favour of a man who has little to recommend him save his own unconscious +humour. In very truth my good friend Ratichon is an unblushing liar, thief, a +forger—anything you will; his vanity is past belief, his scruples are +non-existent. How he escaped a convict settlement it is difficult to imagine, +and hard to realize that he died—presumably some years after the event +recorded in the last chapter of his autobiography—a respected member of +the community, honoured by that same society which should have raised a +punitive hand against him. Yet this I believe to be the case. At any rate, in +spite of close research in the police records of the period, I can find no +mention of Hector Ratichon. “Heureux le peuple qui n’a pas d’histoire” applies, +therefore, to him, and we must take it that Fate and his own sorely troubled +country dealt lightly with him. +</p> + +<p> +Which brings me back to my attempt at an explanation. If Fate dealt kindly, why +not we? Since time immemorial there have been worse scoundrels unhung than +Hector Ratichon, and he has the saving grace— which few possess—of +unruffled geniality. Buffeted by Fate, sometimes starving, always thirsty, he +never complains; and there is all through his autobiography what we might call +an “Ah, well!” attitude about his outlook on life. Because of this, and because +his very fatuity makes us smile, I feel that he deserves forgiveness and even a +certain amount of recognition. +</p> + +<p> +The fragmentary notes, which I have only very slightly modified, came into my +hands by a happy chance one dull post-war November morning in Paris, when rain, +sleet and the north wind drove me for shelter under the arcades of the Odéon, +and a kindly vendor of miscellaneous printed matter and mouldy MSS. allowed me +to rummage amongst a load of old papers which he was about to consign to the +rubbish heap. I imagine that the notes were set down by the actual person to +whom the genial Hector Ratichon recounted the most conspicuous events of his +chequered career, and as I turned over the torn and musty pages, which hung +together by scraps of mouldy thread, I could not help feeling the +humour—aye! and the pathos—of that drabby side of old Paris which +was being revealed to me through the medium of this rogue’s adventures. And +even as, holding the fragments in my hand, I walked home that morning through +the rain something of that same quaint personality seemed once more to haunt +the dank and dreary streets of the once dazzling Ville Lumière. I seemed to see +the shabby bottle-green coat, the nankeen pantaloons, the down-at-heel shoes of +this “confidant of Kings”; I could hear his unctuous, self-satisfied laugh, and +sensed his furtive footstep whene’er a gendarme came into view. I saw his +ruddy, shiny face beaming at me through the sleet and the rain as, like a +veritable squire of dames, he minced his steps upon the boulevard, or, like a +reckless smuggler, affronted the grave dangers of mountain fastnesses upon the +Juras; and I was quite glad to think that a life so full of unconscious humour +had not been cut short upon the gallows. And I thought kindly of him, for he +had made me smile. +</p> + +<p> +There is nothing fine about him, nothing romantic; nothing in his actions to +cause a single thrill to the nerves of the most unsophisticated reader. +Therefore, I apologize in that I have not held him up to a just obloquy because +of his crimes, and I ask indulgence for his turpitudes because of the laughter +which they provoke. +</p> + +<p> +EMMUSKA ORCZY. <i>Paris, 1921</i>. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0002"></a> +CASTLES IN THE AIR</h2> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0001"></a> +CHAPTER I. — A ROLAND FOR HIS OLIVER</h2> + +<h3>1.</h3> + +<p> +My name is Ratichon—Hector Ratichon, at your service, and I make so bold +as to say that not even my worst enemy would think of minimizing the value of +my services to the State. For twenty years now have I placed my powers at the +disposal of my country: I have served the Republic, and was confidential agent +to Citizen Robespierre; I have served the Empire, and was secret factotum to +our great Napoléon; I have served King Louis—with a brief interval of one +hundred days— for the past two years, and I can only repeat that no one, +in the whole of France, has been so useful or so zealous in tracking criminals, +nosing out conspiracies, or denouncing traitors as I have been. +</p> + +<p> +And yet you see me a poor man to this day: there has been a persistently +malignant Fate which has worked against me all these years, and would—but +for a happy circumstance of which I hope anon to tell you—have left me +just as I was, in the matter of fortune, when I first came to Paris and set up +in business as a volunteer police agent at No. 96 Rue Daunou. +</p> + +<p> +My apartment in those days consisted of an antechamber, an outer office where, +if need be, a dozen clients might sit, waiting their turn to place their +troubles, difficulties, anxieties before the acutest brain in France, and an +inner room wherein that same acute brain—mine, my dear Sir—was wont +to ponder and scheme. That apartment was not luxuriously +furnished—furniture being very dear in those days—but there were a +couple of chairs and a table in the outer office, and a cupboard wherein I kept +the frugal repast which served me during the course of a long and laborious +day. In the inner office there were more chairs and another table, littered +with papers: letters and packets all tied up with pink tape (which cost three +sous the metre), and bundles of letters from hundreds of clients, from the +highest and the lowest in the land, you understand, people who wrote to me and +confided in me to-day as kings and emperors had done in the past. In the +antechamber there was a chair-bedstead for Theodore to sleep on when I required +him to remain in town, and a chair on which he could sit. +</p> + +<p> +And, of course, there was Theodore! +</p> + +<p> +Ah! my dear Sir, of him I can hardly speak without feeling choked with the +magnitude of my emotion. A noble indignation makes me dumb. Theodore, sir, has +ever been the cruel thorn that times out of number hath wounded my +over-sensitive heart. Think of it! I had picked him out of the gutter! No! no! +I do not mean this figuratively! I mean that, actually and in the flesh, I took +him up by the collar of his tattered coat and dragged him out of the gutter in +the Rue Blanche, where he was grubbing for trifles out of the slime and mud. He +was frozen, Sir, and starved—yes, starved! In the intervals of picking +filth up out of the mud he held out a hand blue with cold to the passers-by and +occasionally picked up a sou. When I found him in that pitiable condition he +had exactly twenty centimes between him and absolute starvation. +</p> + +<p> +And I, Sir Hector Ratichon, the confidant of two kings, three autocrats and an +emperor, took that man to my bosom—fed him, clothed him, housed him, gave +him the post of secretary in my intricate, delicate, immensely important +business—and I did this, Sir, at a salary which, in comparison with his +twenty centimes, must have seemed a princely one to him. +</p> + +<p> +His duties were light. He was under no obligation to serve me or to be at his +post before seven o’clock in the morning, and all that he had to do then was to +sweep out the three rooms, fetch water from the well in the courtyard below, +light the fire in the iron stove which stood in my inner office, shell the +haricots for his own mess of pottage, and put them to boil. During the day his +duties were lighter still. He had to run errands for me, open the door to +prospective clients, show them into the outer office, explain to them that his +master was engaged on affairs relating to the kingdom of France, and generally +prove himself efficient, useful and loyal—all of which qualities he +assured me, my dear Sir, he possessed to the fullest degree. And I believed +him, Sir; I nurtured the scorpion in my over-sensitive bosom! I promised him +ten per cent. on all the profits of my business, and all the remnants from my +own humble repasts—bread, the skins of luscious sausages, the bones from +savoury cutlets, the gravy from the tasty carrots and onions. You would have +thought that his gratitude would become boundless, that he would almost worship +the benefactor who had poured at his feet the full cornucopia of comfort and +luxury. Not so! That man, Sir, was a snake in the grass—a serpent—a +crocodile! Even now that I have entirely severed my connexion with that +ingrate, I seem to feel the wounds, like dagger-thrusts, which he dealt me with +so callous a hand. But I have done with him—done, I tell you! How could I +do otherwise than to send him back to the gutter from whence I should never +have dragged him? My goodness, he repaid with an ingratitude so black that you, +Sir, when you hear the full story of his treachery, will exclaim aghast. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, you shall judge! His perfidy commenced less than a week after I had given +him my third best pantaloons and three sous to get his hair cut, thus making a +man of him. And yet, you would scarcely believe it, in the matter of the secret +documents he behaved toward me like a veritable Judas! +</p> + +<p> +Listen, my dear Sir. +</p> + +<p> +I told you, I believe, that I had my office in the Rue Daunou. You understand +that I had to receive my clients—many of whom were of exalted +rank—-in a fashionable quarter of Paris. But I actually lodged in +Passy—being fond of country pursuits and addicted to fresh air—in a +humble hostelry under the sign of the “Grey Cat”; and here, too, Theodore had a +bed. He would walk to the office a couple of hours before I myself started on +the way, and I was wont to arrive as soon after ten o’clock of a morning as I +could do conveniently. +</p> + +<p> +On this memorable occasion of which I am about to tell you—it was during +the autumn of 1815—I had come to the office unusually early, and had just +hung my hat and coat in the outer room, and taken my seat at my desk in the +inner office, there to collect my thoughts in preparation for the grave events +which the day might bring forth, when, suddenly, an ill-dressed, dour-looking +individual entered the room without so much as saying, “By your leave,” and +after having pushed Theodore—who stood by like a lout—most +unceremoniously to one side. Before I had time to recover from my surprise at +this unseemly intrusion, the uncouth individual thrust Theodore roughly out of +the room, slammed the door in his face, and having satisfied himself that he +was alone with me and that the door was too solid to allow of successful +eavesdropping, he dragged the best chair forward—the one, sir, which I +reserve for lady visitors. +</p> + +<p> +He threw his leg across it, and, sitting astride, he leaned his elbows over the +back and glowered at me as if he meant to frighten me. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Charles Saurez,” he said abruptly, “and I want your assistance in a +matter which requires discretion, ingenuity and alertness. Can I have it?” +</p> + +<p> +I was about to make a dignified reply when he literally threw the next words at +me: “Name your price, and I will pay it!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +What could I do, save to raise my shoulders in token that the matter of money +was one of supreme indifference to me, and my eyebrows in a manner of doubt +that M. Charles Saurez had the means wherewith to repay my valuable services? +By way of a rejoinder he took out from the inner pocket of his coat a greasy +letter-case, and with his exceedingly grimy fingers extracted therefrom some +twenty banknotes, which a hasty glance on my part revealed as representing a +couple of hundred francs. +</p> + +<p> +“I will give you this as a retaining fee,” he said, “if you will undertake the +work I want you to do; and I will double the amount when you have carried the +work out successfully.” +</p> + +<p> +Four hundred francs! It was not lavish, it was perhaps not altogether the price +I would have named, but it was very good, these hard times. You understand? We +were all very poor in France in that year 1815 of which I speak. +</p> + +<p> +I am always quite straightforward when I am dealing with a client who means +business. I pushed aside the litter of papers in front of me, leaned my elbows +upon my desk, rested my chin in my hands, and said briefly: +</p> + +<p> +“M. Charles Saurez, I listen!” +</p> + +<p> +He drew his chair a little closer and dropped his voice almost to a whisper. +</p> + +<p> +“You know the Chancellerie of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“You know M. de Marsan’s private office? He is chief secretary to M. de +Talleyrand.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” I said, “but I can find out.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is on the first floor, immediately facing the service staircase, and at the +end of the long passage which leads to the main staircase.” +</p> + +<p> +“Easy to find, then,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite. At this hour and until twelve o’clock, M. de Marsan will be occupied in +copying a document which I desire to possess. At eleven o’clock precisely there +will be a noisy disturbance in the corridor which leads to the main staircase. +M. de Marsan, in all probability, will come out of his room to see what the +disturbance is about. Will you undertake to be ready at that precise moment to +make a dash from the service staircase into the room to seize the document, +which no doubt will be lying on the top of the desk, and bring it to an address +which I am about to give you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is risky,” I mused. +</p> + +<p> +“Very,” he retorted drily, “or I’d do it myself, and not pay you four hundred +francs for your trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“Trouble!” I exclaimed, with withering sarcasm. +</p> + +<p> +“Trouble, you call it? If I am caught, it means penal servitude—New +Caledonia, perhaps—” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly,” he said, with the same irritating calmness; “and if you succeed it +means four hundred francs. Take it or leave it, as you please, but be quick +about it. I have no time to waste; it is past nine o’clock already, and if you +won’t do the work, someone else will.” +</p> + +<p> +For a few seconds longer I hesitated. Schemes, both varied and wild, rushed +through my active brain: refuse to take this risk, and denounce the plot to the +police; refuse it, and run to warn M. de Marsan; refuse it, and— I had +little time for reflection. My uncouth client was standing, as it were, with a +pistol to my throat—with a pistol and four hundred francs! The police +might perhaps give me half a louis for my pains, or they might possibly +remember an unpleasant little incident in connexion with the forgery of some +Treasury bonds which they have never succeeded in bringing home to me—one +never knows! M. de Marsan might throw me a franc, and think himself generous at +that! +</p> + +<p> +All things considered, then, when M. Charles Saurez suddenly said, “Well?” with +marked impatience, I replied, “Agreed,” and within five minutes I had two +hundred francs in my pocket, with the prospect of two hundred more during the +next four and twenty hours. I was to have a free hand in conducting my own +share of the business, and M. Charles Saurez was to call for the document at my +lodgings at Passy on the following morning at nine o’clock. +</p> + +<h3>2.</h3> + +<p> +I flatter myself that I conducted the business with remarkable skill. At +precisely ten minutes to eleven I rang at the Chancellerie of the Ministry for +Foreign Affairs. I was dressed as a respectable commissionnaire, and I carried +a letter and a small parcel addressed to M. de Marsan. “First floor,” said the +concierge curtly, as soon as he had glanced at the superscription on the +letter. “Door faces top of the service stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +I mounted and took my stand some ten steps below the landing, keeping the door +of M. de Marsan’s room well in sight. Just as the bells of Notre Dame boomed +the hour I heard what sounded like a furious altercation somewhere in the +corridor just above me. There was much shouting, then one or two cries of +“Murder!” followed by others of “What is it?” and “What in the name of +——— is all this infernal row about?” Doors were opened and +banged, there was a general running and rushing along that corridor, and the +next minute the door in front of me was opened also, and a young man came out, +pen in hand, and shouting just like everybody else: +</p> + +<p> +“What the ——— is all this infernal row about?” +</p> + +<p> +“Murder, help!” came from the distant end of the corridor, and M. de +Marsan—undoubtedly it was he—did what any other young man under the +like circumstances would have done: he ran to see what was happening and to +lend a hand in it, if need be. I saw his slim figure disappearing down the +corridor at the very moment that I slipped into his room. One glance upon the +desk sufficed: there lay the large official-looking document, with the royal +signature affixed thereto, and close beside it the copy which M. de Marsan had +only half finished—the ink on it was still wet. Hesitation, Sir, would +have been fatal. I did not hesitate; not one instant. Three seconds had +scarcely elapsed before I picked up the document, together with M. de Marsan’s +half-finished copy of the same, and a few loose sheets of Chancellerie paper +which I thought might be useful. Then I slipped the lot inside my blouse. The +bogus letter and parcel I left behind me, and within two minutes of my entry +into the room I was descending the service staircase quite unconcernedly, and +had gone past the concierge’s lodge without being challenged. How thankful I +was to breathe once more the pure air of heaven. I had spent an exceedingly +agitated five minutes, and even now my anxiety was not altogether at rest. I +dared not walk too fast lest I attracted attention, and yet I wanted to put the +river, the Pont Neuf, and a half dozen streets between me and the Chancellerie +of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. No one who has not gone through such an +exciting adventure as I have just recorded can conceive what were my feelings +of relief and of satisfaction when I at last found myself quietly mounting the +stairs which led to my office on the top floor of No. 96 Rue Daunou. +</p> + +<h3>3.</h3> + +<p> +Now, I had not said anything to Theodore about this affair. It was certainly +arranged between us when he entered my service as confidential clerk and +doorkeeper that in lieu of wages, which I could not afford to pay him, he would +share my meals with me and have a bed at my expense in the same house at Passy +where I lodged; moreover, I would always give him a fair percentage on the +profits which I derived from my business. The arrangement suited him very well. +I told you that I picked him out of the gutter, and I heard subsequently that +he had gone through many an unpleasant skirmish with the police in his day, and +if I did not employ him no one else would. +</p> + +<p> +After all, he did earn a more or less honest living by serving me. But in this +instance, since I had not even asked for his assistance, I felt that, +considering the risks of New Caledonia and a convict ship which I had taken, a +paltry four hundred francs could not by any stretch of the imagination rank as +a “profit” in a business—and Theodore was not really entitled to a +percentage, was he? +</p> + +<p> +So when I returned I crossed the ante-chamber and walked past him with my +accustomed dignity; nor did he offer any comment on my get-up. I often affected +a disguise in those days, even when I was not engaged in business, and the +dress and get-up of a respectable commissionnaire was a favourite one with me. +As soon as I had changed I sent him out to make purchases for our +luncheon—five sous’ worth of stale bread, and ten sous’ worth of liver +sausage, of which he was inordinately fond. He would take the opportunity on +the way of getting moderately drunk on as many glasses of absinthe as he could +afford. I saw him go out of the outer door, and then I set to work to examine +the precious document. +</p> + +<p> +Well, one glance was sufficient for me to realize its incalculable value! +Nothing more or less than a Treaty of Alliance between King Louis XVIII of +France and the King of Prussia in connexion with certain schemes of naval +construction. I did not understand the whole diplomatic verbiage, but it was +pretty clear to my unsophisticated mind that this treaty had been entered into +in secret by the two monarchs, and that it was intended to prejudice the +interests both of Denmark and of Russia in the Baltic Sea. +</p> + +<p> +I also realized that both the Governments of Denmark and Russia would no doubt +pay a very considerable sum for the merest glance at this document, and that my +client of this morning was certainly a secret service agent—otherwise a +spy—of one of those two countries, who did not choose to take the very +severe risks which I had taken this morning, but who would, on the other hand, +reap the full reward of the daring coup, whilst I was to be content with four +hundred francs! +</p> + +<p> +Now, I am a man of deliberation as well as of action, and at this +juncture—feeling that Theodore was still safely out of the way—I +thought the whole matter over quietly, and then took what precautions I thought +fit for the furthering of my own interests. +</p> + +<p> +To begin with, I set to work to make a copy of the treaty on my own account. I +have brought the study of calligraphy to a magnificent degree of perfection, +and the writing on the document was easy enough to imitate, as was also the +signature of our gracious King Louis and of M. de Talleyrand, who had +countersigned it. +</p> + +<p> +If you remember, I had picked up two or three loose sheets of paper off M. de +Marsan’s desk; these bore the arms of the Chancellerie of Foreign Affairs +stamped upon them, and were in every way identical with that on which the +original document had been drafted. When I had finished my work I flattered +myself that not the greatest calligraphic expert could have detected the +slightest difference between the original and the copy which I had made. +</p> + +<p> +The work took me a long time. When at last I folded up the papers and slipped +them once more inside my blouse it was close upon two. I wondered why Theodore +had not returned with our luncheon, but on going to the little anteroom which +divides my office from the outer door, great was my astonishment to see him +lolling there on the rickety chair which he affectioned, and half asleep. I had +some difficulty in rousing him. Apparently he had got rather drunk while he was +out, and had then returned and slept some of his booze off, without thinking +that I might be hungry and needing my luncheon. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you let me know you had come back?” I asked curtly, for indeed I +was very cross with him. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you were busy,” he replied, with what I thought looked like a leer. +</p> + +<p> +I have never really cared for Theodore, you understand. +</p> + +<p> +However, I partook of our modest luncheon with him in perfect amity and +brotherly love, but my mind was busy all the time. I began to wonder if +Theodore suspected something; if so, I knew that I could not trust him. He +would try and ferret things out, and then demand a share in my hard-earned +emoluments to which he was really not entitled. I did not feel safe with that +bulky packet of papers on me, and I felt that Theodore’s bleary eyes were +perpetually fixed upon the bulge in the left-hand side of my coat. At one +moment he looked so strange that I thought he meant to knock me down. +</p> + +<p> +So my mind was quickly made up. +</p> + +<p> +After luncheon I would go down to my lodgings at Passy, and I knew of a snug +little hiding-place in my room there where the precious documents would be +quite safe until such time as I was to hand them—or one of them—to +M. Charles Saurez. +</p> + +<p> +This plan I put into execution, and with remarkable ingenuity too. +</p> + +<p> +While Theodore was busy clearing up the debris of our luncheon, I not only gave +him the slip, but as I went out I took the precaution of locking the outer door +after me, and taking the key away in my pocket. I thus made sure that Theodore +could not follow me. I then walked to Passy—a matter of two +kilometres—and by four o’clock I had the satisfaction of stowing the +papers safely away under one of the tiles in the flooring of my room, and then +pulling the strip of carpet in front of my bed snugly over the hiding-place. +</p> + +<p> +Theodore’s attic, where he slept, was at the top of the house, whilst my room +was on the ground floor, and so I felt that I could now go back quite +comfortably to my office in the hope that more remunerative work and more +lavish clients would come my way before nightfall. +</p> + +<h3>4.</h3> + +<p> +It was a little after five o’clock when I once more turned the key in the outer +door of my rooms in the Rue Daunou. +</p> + +<p> +Theodore did not seem in the least to resent having been locked in for two +hours. I think he must have been asleep most of the time. Certainly I heard a +good deal of shuffling when first I reached the landing outside the door; but +when I actually walked into the apartment with an air of quiet unconcern +Theodore was sprawling on the chair-bedstead, with eyes closed, a nose the +colour of beetroot, and emitting sounds through his thin, cracked lips which I +could not, Sir, describe graphically in your presence. +</p> + +<p> +I took no notice of him, however, even though, as I walked past him, I saw that +he opened one bleary eye and watched my every movement. I went straight into my +private room and shut the door after me. And here, I assure you, my dear Sir, I +literally fell into my favourite chair, overcome with emotion and excitement. +Think what I had gone through! The events of the last few hours would have +turned any brain less keen, less daring than that of Hector Ratichon. And here +was I, alone at last, face to face with the future. What a future, my dear Sir! +Fate was smiling on me at last. At last I was destined to reap a rich reward +for all the skill, the energy, the devotion, which up to this hour I had placed +at the service of my country and my King—or my Emperor, as the case might +be—without thought of my own advantage. Here was I now in possession of a +document—two documents—each one of which was worth at least a +thousand francs to persons whom I could easily approach. One thousand francs! +Was I dreaming? Five thousand would certainly be paid by the Government whose +agent M. Charles Saurez admittedly was for one glance at that secret treaty +which would be so prejudicial to their political interests; whilst M. de Marsan +himself would gladly pay another five thousand for the satisfaction of placing +the precious document intact before his powerful and irascible uncle. +</p> + +<p> +Ten thousand francs! How few were possessed of such a sum in these days! How +much could be done with it! I would not give up business altogether, of course, +but with my new capital I would extend it and, there was a certain little +house, close to Chantilly, a house with a few acres of kitchen garden and some +fruit trees, the possession of which would render me happier than any king. . . +. I would marry! Oh, yes! I would certainly marry—found a family. I was +still young, my dear Sir, and passably good looking. In fact there was a +certain young widow, comely and amiable, who lived not far from Passy, who had +on more than one occasion given me to understand that I was more than passably +good looking. I had always been susceptible where the fair sex was concerned, +and now . . . oh, now! I could pick and choose! The comely widow had a small +fortune of her own, and there were others! . . . +</p> + +<p> +Thus I dreamed on for the better part of an hour, until, soon after six +o’clock, there was a knock at the outer door and I heard Theodore’s shuffling +footsteps crossing the small anteroom. There was some muttered conversation, +and presently my door was opened and Theodore’s ugly face was thrust into the +room. +</p> + +<p> +“A lady to see you,” he said curtly. +</p> + +<p> +Then, he dropped his voice, smacked his lips, and winked with one eye. “Very +pretty,” he whispered, “but has a young man with her whom she calls Arthur. +Shall I send them in?” +</p> + +<p> +I then and there made up my mind that I would get rid of Theodore now that I +could afford to get a proper servant. My business would in future be greatly +extended; it would become very important, and I was beginning to detest +Theodore. But I said “Show the lady in!” with becoming dignity, and a few +moments later a beautiful woman entered my room. +</p> + +<p> +I was vaguely conscious that a creature of my own sex walked in behind her, but +of him I took no notice. I rose to greet the lady and invited her to sit down, +but I had the annoyance of seeing the personage whom deliberately she called +“Arthur” coming familiarly forward and leaning over the back of her chair. +</p> + +<p> +I hated him. He was short and stout and florid, with an impertinent-looking +moustache, and hair that was very smooth and oily save for two tight curls, +which looked like the horns of a young goat, on each side of the centre +parting. I hated him cordially, and had to control my feelings not to show him +the contempt which I felt for his fatuousness and his air of self-complacency. +Fortunately the beautiful being was the first to address me, and thus I was +able to ignore the very presence of the detestable man. +</p> + +<p> +“You are M. Ratichon, I believe,” she said in a voice that was dulcet and +adorably tremulous, like the voice of some sweet, shy young thing in the +presence of genius and power. +</p> + +<p> +“Hector Ratichon,” I replied calmly. “Entirely at your service, Mademoiselle.” +Then I added, with gentle, encouraging kindliness, “Mademoiselle...?” +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Geoffroy,” she replied, “Madeleine Geoffroy.” +</p> + +<p> +She raised her eyes—such eyes, my dear Sir!—of a tender, luscious +grey, fringed with lashes and dewy with tears. I met her glance. Something in +my own eyes must have spoken with mute eloquence of my distress, for she went +on quickly and with a sweet smile. “And this,” she said, pointing to her +companion, “is my brother, Arthur Geoffroy.” +</p> + +<p> +An exclamation of joyful surprise broke from my lips, and I beamed and smiled +on M. Arthur, begged him to be seated, which he refused, and finally I myself +sat down behind my desk. I now looked with unmixed benevolence on both my +clients, and then perceived that the lady’s exquisite face bore unmistakable +signs of recent sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, Mademoiselle,” I said, as soon as I had taken up a position +indicative of attention and of encouragement, “will you deign to tell me how I +can have the honour to serve you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur,” she began in a voice that trembled with emotion, “I have come to +you in the midst of the greatest distress that any human being has ever been +called upon to bear. It was by the merest accident that I heard of you. I have +been to the police; they cannot—will not—act without I furnish them +with certain information which it is not in my power to give them. Then when I +was half distraught with despair, a kindly agent there spoke to me of you. He +said that you were attached to the police as a voluntary agent, and that they +sometimes put work in your way which did not happen to be within their own +scope. He also said that sometimes you were successful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nearly always, Mademoiselle,” I broke in firmly and with much dignity. “Once +more I beg of you to tell me in what way I may have the honour to serve you.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not for herself, Monsieur,” here interposed M. Arthur, whilst a blush +suffused Mlle. Geoffroy’s lovely face, “that my sister desires to consult you, +but for her fiancé M. de Marsan, who is very ill indeed, hovering, in fact, +between life and death. He could not come in person. The matter is one that +demands the most profound secrecy.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may rely on my discretion, Monsieur,” I murmured, without showing, I +flatter myself, the slightest trace of that astonishment which, at mention of +M. de Marsan’s name, had nearly rendered me speechless. +</p> + +<p> +“M. de Marsan came to see me in utmost distress, Monsieur,” resumed the lovely +creature. “He had no one in whom he could—or rather dared—confide. +He is in the Chancellerie for Foreign Affairs. His uncle M. de Talleyrand +thinks a great deal of him and often entrusts him with very delicate work. This +morning he gave M. de Marsan a valuable paper to copy—a paper, Monsieur, +the importance of which it were impossible to overestimate. The very safety of +this country, the honour of our King, are involved in it. I cannot tell you its +exact contents, and it is because I would not tell more about it to the police +that they would not help me in any way, and referred me to you. How could they, +said the chief Commissary to me, run after a document the contents of which +they did not even know? But you will be satisfied with what I have told you, +will you not, my dear M. Ratichon?” she continued, with a pathetic quiver in +her voice and a look of appeal in her eyes which St. Anthony himself could not +have resisted, “and help me to regain possession of that paper, the final loss +of which would cost M. de Marsan his life.” +</p> + +<p> +To say that my feeling of elation of a while ago had turned to one of supreme +beatitude would be to put it very mildly indeed. To think that here was this +lovely being in tears before me, and that it lay in my power to dry those tears +with a word and to bring a smile round those perfect lips, literally made my +mouth water in anticipation—for I am sure that you will have guessed, +just as I did in a moment, that the valuable document of which this adorable +being was speaking, was snugly hidden away under the flooring of my room in +Passy. I hated that unknown de Marsan. I hated this Arthur who leaned so +familiarly over her chair, but I had the power to render her a service beside +which their lesser claims on her regard would pale. +</p> + +<p> +However, I am not the man to act on impulse, even at a moment like this. I +wanted to think the whole matter over first, and . . . well . . . I had made up +my mind to demand five thousand francs when I handed the document over to my +first client to-morrow morning. At any rate, for the moment I acted—if I +may say so—with great circumspection and dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“I must presume, Mademoiselle,” I said in my most business-like manner, “that +the document you speak of has been stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stolen, Monsieur,” she assented whilst the tears once more gathered in her +eyes, “and M. de Marsan now lies at death’s door with a terrible attack of +brain fever, brought on by shock when he discovered the loss.” +</p> + +<p> +“How and when was it stolen?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Some time during the morning,” she replied. “M. de Talleyrand gave the +document to M. de Marsan at nine o’clock, telling him that he wanted the copy +by midday. M. de Marsan set to work at once, laboured uninterruptedly until +about eleven o’clock, when a loud altercation, followed by cries of ‘Murder!’ +and of ‘Help!’ and proceeding from the corridor outside his door, caused him to +run out of the room in order to see what was happening. The altercation turned +out to be between two men who had pushed their way into the building by the +main staircase, and who became very abusive to the gendarme who ordered them +out. The men were not hurt; nevertheless they screamed as if they were being +murdered. They took to their heels quickly enough, and I don’t know what has +become of them, but . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” I concluded blandly, “whilst M. de Marsan was out of the room the +precious document was stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was, Monsieur,” exclaimed Mlle. Geoffroy piteously. “You will find it for +us . . . will you not?” +</p> + +<p> +Then she added more calmly: “My brother and I are offering ten thousand francs +reward for the recovery of the document.” +</p> + +<p> +I did not fall off my chair, but I closed my eyes. The vision which the lovely +lady’s words had conjured up dazzled me. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle,” I said with solemn dignity, “I pledge you my word of honour +that I will find the document for you and lay it at your feet or die in your +service. Give me twenty hours, during which I will move heaven and earth to +discover the thief. I will go at once to the Chancellerie and collect what +evidence I can. I have worked under M. de Robespierre, Mademoiselle, under the +great Napoléon, and under the illustrious Fouché! I have never been known to +fail, once I have set my mind upon a task.” +</p> + +<p> +“In that case you will earn your ten thousand francs, my friend,” said the +odious Arthur drily, “and my sister and M. de Marsan will still be your +debtors. Are there any questions you would like to ask before we go?” +</p> + +<p> +“None,” I said loftily, choosing to ignore his sneering manner. “If +Mademoiselle deigns to present herself here to-morrow at two o’clock I will +have news to communicate to her.” +</p> + +<p> +You will admit that I carried off the situation in a becoming manner. Both +Mademoiselle and Arthur Geoffroy gave me a few more details in connexion with +the affair. To these details I listened with well simulated interest. Of +course, they did not know that there were no details in connexion with this +affair that I did not know already. My heart was actually dancing within my +bosom. The future was so entrancing that the present appeared like a dream; the +lovely being before me seemed like an angel, an emissary from above come to +tell me of the happiness which was in store for me. The house near +Chantilly—the little widow—the kitchen garden—the magic words +went on hammering in my brain. I longed now to be rid of my visitors, to be +alone once more, so as to think out the epilogue of this glorious adventure. +Ten thousand francs was the reward offered me by this adorable creature! Well, +then, why should not M. Charles Saurez, on his side, pay me another ten +thousand for the same document, which was absolutely undistinguishable from the +first? +</p> + +<p> +Ten thousand, instead of two hundred which he had the audacity to offer me! +</p> + +<p> +Seven o’clock had struck before I finally bowed my clients out of the room. +Theodore had gone. The lazy lout would never stay as much as five minutes after +his appointed time, so I had to show the adorable creature and her fat brother +out of the premises myself. But I did not mind that. I flatter myself that I +can always carry off an awkward situation in a dignified manner. A brief +allusion to the inefficiency of present-day servants, a jocose comment on my +own simplicity of habits, and the deed was done. M. Arthur Geoffroy and +Mademoiselle Madeleine his sister were half-way down the stairs. A quarter of +an hour later I was once more out in the streets of Paris. It was a beautiful, +balmy night. I had two hundred francs in my pocket and there was a magnificent +prospect of twenty thousand francs before me! I could afford some slight +extravagance. I had dinner at one of the fashionable restaurants on the quay, +and I remained some time out on the terrace sipping my coffee and liqueur, +dreaming dreams such as I had never dreamed before. At ten o’clock I was once +more on my way to Passy. +</p> + +<h3>5.</h3> + +<p> +When I turned the corner of the street and came is sight of the squalid house +where I lodged, I felt like a being from another world. Twenty thousand +francs—a fortune!—was waiting for me inside those dingy walls. Yes, +twenty thousand, for by now I had fully made up my mind. I had two documents +concealed beneath the floor of my bedroom—one so like the other that none +could tell them apart. One of these I would restore to the lovely being who had +offered me ten thousand francs for it, and the other I would sell to my first +and uncouth client for another ten thousand francs! +</p> + +<p> +Four hundred! Bah! Ten thousand shall you pay for the treaty, my friend of the +Danish or Russian Secret Service! Ten thousand!—it is worth that to you! +</p> + +<p> +In that happy frame of mind I reached the front door of my dingy abode. Imagine +my surprise on being confronted with two agents of police, each with fixed +bayonet, who refused to let me pass. +</p> + +<p> +“But I lodge here,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“Your name?” queried one of the men. “Hector Ratichon,” I replied. Whereupon +they gave me leave to enter. +</p> + +<p> +It was very mysterious. My heart beat furiously. Fear for the safety of my +precious papers held me in a death-like grip. I ran straight to my room, locked +the door after me, and pulled the curtains together in front of the window. +Then, with hands that trembled as if with ague, I pulled aside the strip of +carpet which concealed the hiding-place of what meant a fortune to me. +</p> + +<p> +I nearly fainted with joy; the papers were there—quite safely. I took +them out and replaced them inside my coat. +</p> + +<p> +Then I ran up to see if Theodore was in. I found him in bed. He told me that he +had left the office whilst my visitors were still with me, as he felt terribly +sick. He had been greatly upset when, about an hour ago, the maid-of-all-work +had informed him that the police were in the house, that they would allow no +one—except the persons lodging in the house—to enter it, and no +one, once in, would be allowed to leave. How long these orders would hold good +Theodore did not know. +</p> + +<p> +I left him moaning and groaning and declaring that he felt very ill, and I went +in quest of information. The corporal in command of the gendarmes was +exceedingly curt with me at first, but after a time he unbent and condescended +to tell me that my landlord had been denounced for permitting a Bonapartiste +club to hold its sittings in his house. So far so good. Such denunciations were +very frequent these days, and often ended unpleasantly for those concerned, but +the affair had obviously nothing to do with me. I felt that I could breathe +again. But there was still the matter of the consigne. If no one, save the +persons who lodged in the house, would be allowed to enter it, how would M. +Charles Saurez contrive to call for the stolen document and, incidentally, to +hand me over the ten thousand francs I was hoping for? And if no one, once +inside the house, would be allowed to leave it, how could I meet Mlle. Geoffroy +to-morrow at two o’clock in my office and receive ten thousand francs from her +in exchange for the precious paper? +</p> + +<p> +Moreover the longer the police stayed in this house and poked their noses about +in affairs that concerned hardworking citizens like myself—why—the +greater the risk would be of the matter of the stolen document coming to light. +</p> + +<p> +It was positively maddening. +</p> + +<p> +I never undressed that night, but just lay down on my bed, thinking. The house +was very still at times, but at others I could hear the tramp of the police +agents up and down the stairs and also outside my window. The latter gave on a +small, dilapidated back garden which had a wooden fence at the end of it. +Beyond it were some market gardens belonging to a M. Lorraine. It did not take +me very long to realize that that way lay my fortune of twenty thousand francs. +But for the moment I remained very still. My plan was already made. At about +midnight I went to the window and opened it cautiously. I had heard no noise +from that direction for some time, and I bent my ear to listen. +</p> + +<p> +Not a sound! Either the sentry was asleep, or he had gone on his round, and for +a few moments the way was free. Without a moment’s hesitation I swung my leg +over the sill. +</p> + +<p> +Still no sound. My heart beat so fast that I could almost hear it. The night +was very dark. A thin mist-like drizzle was falling; in fact the weather +conditions were absolutely perfect for my purpose. With utmost wariness I +allowed myself to drop from the window-ledge on to the soft ground below. +</p> + +<p> +If I was caught by the sentry I had my answer ready: I was going to meet my +sweetheart at the end of the garden. It is an excuse which always meets with +the sympathy of every true-hearted Frenchman. The sentry would, of course, +order me back to my room, but I doubt if he would ill-use me; the denunciation +was against the landlord, not against me. +</p> + +<p> +Still not a sound. I could have danced with joy. Five minutes more and I would +be across the garden and over that wooden fence, and once more on my way to +fortune. My fall from the window had been light, as my room was on the ground +floor; but I had fallen on my knees, and now, as I picked myself up, I looked +up, and it seemed to me as if I saw Theodore’s ugly face at his attic window. +Certainly there was a light there, and I may have been mistaken as to +Theodore’s face being visible. The very next second the light was extinguished +and I was left in doubt. +</p> + +<p> +But I did not pause to think. In a moment I was across the garden, my hands +gripped the top of the wooden fence, I hoisted myself up—with some +difficulty, I confess—but at last I succeeded. I threw my leg over and +gently dropped down on the other side. +</p> + +<p> +Then suddenly two rough arms encircled my waist, and before I could attempt to +free myself a cloth was thrown over my head, and I was lifted up and carried +away, half suffocated and like an insentient bundle. +</p> + +<p> +When the cloth was removed from my face I was half sitting, half lying, in an +arm-chair in a strange room which was lighted by an oil lamp that hung from the +ceiling above. In front of me stood M. Arthur Geoffroy and that beast Theodore. +</p> + +<p> +M. Arthur Geoffroy was coolly folding up the two valuable papers for the +possession of which I had risked a convict ship and New Caledonia, and which +would have meant affluence for me for many days to come. +</p> + +<p> +It was Theodore who had removed the cloth from my face. As soon as I had +recovered my breath I made a rush for him, for I wanted to strangle him. But M. +Arthur Geoffroy was too quick and too strong for me. He pushed me back into the +chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Easy, easy, M. Ratichon,” he said pleasantly; “do not vent your wrath upon +this good fellow. Believe me, though his actions may have deprived you of a few +thousand francs, they have also saved you from lasting and biting remorse. This +document, which you stole from M. de Marsan and so ingeniously duplicated, +involved the honour of our King and our country, as well as the life of an +innocent man. My sister’s fiancé would never have survived the loss of the +document which had been entrusted to his honour.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would have returned it to Mademoiselle to-morrow,” I murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“Only one copy of it, I think,” he retorted; “the other you would have sold to +whichever spy of the Danish or Russian Governments happened to have employed +you in this discreditable business.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did you know?” I said involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +“Through a very simple process of reasoning, my good M. Ratichon,” he replied +blandly. “You are a very clever man, no doubt, but the cleverest of us is at +times apt to make a mistake. You made two, and I profited by them. Firstly, +after my sister and I left you this afternoon, you never made the slightest +pretence of making inquiries or collecting information about the mysterious +theft of the document. I kept an eye on you throughout the evening. You left +your office and strolled for a while on the quays; you had an excellent dinner +at the Restaurant des Anglais; then you settled down to your coffee and +liqueur. Well, my good M. Ratichon, obviously you would have been more active +in the matter if you had not known exactly where and when and how to lay your +hands upon the document, for the recovery of which my sister had offered you +ten thousand francs.” +</p> + +<p> +I groaned. I had not been quite so circumspect as I ought to have been, but who +would have thought— +</p> + +<p> +“I have had something to do with police work in my day,” continued M. Geoffroy +blandly, “though not of late years; but my knowledge of their methods is not +altogether rusty and my powers of observation are not yet dulled. During my +sister’s visit to you this afternoon I noticed the blouse and cap of a +commissionnaire lying in a bundle in a corner of your room. Now, though M. de +Marsan has been in a burning fever since he discovered his loss, he kept just +sufficient presence of mind at the moment to say nothing about that loss to any +of the Chancellerie officials, but to go straight home to his apartments in the +Rue Royale and to send for my sister and for me. When we came to him he was +already partly delirious, but he pointed to a parcel and a letter which he had +brought away from his office. The parcel proved to be an empty box and the +letter a blank sheet of paper; but the most casual inquiry of the concierge at +the Chancellerie elicited the fact that a commissionaire had brought these +things in the course of the morning. That was your second mistake, my good M. +Ratichon; not a very grave one, perhaps, but I have been in the police, and +somehow, the moment I caught sight of that blouse and cap in your office, I +could not help connecting it with the commissionnaire who had brought a bogus +parcel and letter to my future brother-in-law a few minutes before that +mysterious and unexplained altercation took place in the corridor.” +</p> + +<p> +Again I groaned. I felt as a child in the hands of that horrid creature who +seemed to be dissecting all the thoughts which had run riot through my mind +these past twenty hours. +</p> + +<p> +“It was all very simple, my good M. Ratichon,” now concluded my tormentor still +quite amiably. “Another time you will have to be more careful, will you not? +You will also have to bestow more confidence upon your partner or servant. +Directly I had seen that commissionnaire’s blouse and cap, I set to work to +make friends with M. Theodore. When my sister and I left your office in the Rue +Daunou, we found him waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. Five francs +loosened his tongue: he suspected that you were up to some game in which you +did not mean him to have a share; he also told us that you had spent two hours +in laborious writing, and that you and he both lodged at a dilapidated little +inn, called the ‘Grey Cat,’ in Passy. I think he was rather disappointed that +we did not shower more questions, and therefore more emoluments, upon him. +Well, after I had denounced this house to the police as a Bonapartiste club, +and saw it put under the usual consigne, I bribed the corporal of the +gendarmerie in charge of it to let me have Theodore’s company for the little +job I had in hand, and also to clear the back garden of sentries so as to give +you a chance and the desire to escape. All the rest you know. Money will do +many things, my good M. Ratichon, and you see how simple it all was. It would +have been still more simple if the stolen document had not been such an +important one that the very existence of it must be kept a secret even from the +police. So I could not have you shadowed and arrested as a thief in the usual +manner! However, I have the document and its ingenious copy, which is all that +matters. Would to God,” he added with a suppressed curse, “that I could get +hold equally easily of the Secret Service agent to whom you, a Frenchman, were +going to sell the honour of your country!” +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that—though broken in spirit and burning with thoughts of the +punishment I would mete out to Theodore—my full faculties returned to me, +and I queried abruptly: +</p> + +<p> +“What would you give to get him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Five hundred francs,” he replied without hesitation. “Can you find him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Make it a thousand,” I retorted, “and you shall have him.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you give me five hundred francs now,” I insisted, “and another five +hundred when you have the man, and I will tell you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Agreed,” he said impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +But I was not to be played with by him again. I waited in silence until he had +taken a pocket-book from the inside of his coat and counted out five hundred +francs, which he kept in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Now—” he commanded. +</p> + +<p> +“The man,” I then announced calmly, “will call on me for the document at my +lodgings at the hostelry of the ‘Grey Cat’ to-morrow morning at nine o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” rejoined M. Geoffroy. “We shall be there.” +</p> + +<p> +He made no demur about giving me the five hundred francs, but half my pleasure +in receiving them vanished when I saw Theodore’s bleary eyes fixed ravenously +upon them. +</p> + +<p> +“Another five hundred francs,” M. Geoffroy went on quietly, “will be yours as +soon as the spy is in our hands.” +</p> + +<p> +I did get that further five hundred of course, for M. Charles Saurez was +punctual to the minute, and M. Geoffroy was there with the police to apprehend +him. But to think that I might have had twenty thousand—! +</p> + +<p> +And I had to give Theodore fifty francs on the transaction, as he threatened me +with the police when I talked of giving him the sack. +</p> + +<p> +But we were quite good friends again after that until— But you shall +judge. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0002"></a> +CHAPTER II. — A FOOL’S PARADISE</h2> + +<h3>1.</h3> + +<p> +Ah! my dear Sir, I cannot tell you how poor we all were in France in that year +of grace 1816—so poor, indeed, that a dish of roast pork was looked upon +as a feast, and a new gown for the wife an unheard-of luxury. +</p> + +<p> +The war had ruined everyone. Twenty-two years! and hopeless humiliation and +defeat at the end of it. The Emperor handed over to the English; a Bourbon +sitting on the throne of France; crowds of foreign soldiers still lording it +all over the country—until the country had paid its debts to her foreign +invaders, and thousands of our own men still straggling home through Germany +and Belgium—the remnants of Napoléon’s Grand Army—ex-prisoners of +war, or scattered units who had found their weary way home at last, shoeless, +coatless, half starved and perished from cold and privations, unfit for +housework, for agriculture, or for industry, fit only to follow their fallen +hero, as they had done through a quarter of a century, to victory and to death. +</p> + +<p> +With me, Sir, business in Paris was almost at a standstill. I, who had been the +confidential agent of two kings, three democrats and one emperor; I, who had +held diplomatic threads in my hands which had caused thrones to totter and +tyrants to quake, and who had brought more criminals and intriguers to book +than any other man alive—I now sat in my office in the Rue Daunou day +after day with never a client to darken my doors, even whilst crime and +political intrigue were more rife in Paris than they had been in the most +corrupt days of the Revolution and the Consulate. +</p> + +<p> +I told you, I think, that I had forgiven Theodore his abominable treachery in +connexion with the secret naval treaty, and we were the best of +friends—that is, outwardly, of course. Within my inmost heart I felt, +Sir, that I could never again trust that shameless traitor—that I had in +very truth nurtured a serpent in my bosom. But I am proverbially +tender-hearted. You will believe me or not, I simply could not turn that vermin +out into the street. He deserved it! Oh, even he would have admitted when he +was quite sober, which was not often, that I had every right to give him the +sack, to send him back to the gutter whence he had come, there to grub once +more for scraps of filth and to stretch a half-frozen hand to the charity of +the passers by. +</p> + +<p> +But I did not do it, Sir. No, I did not do it. I kept him on at the office as +my confidential servant; I gave him all the crumbs that fell from mine own +table, and he helped himself to the rest. I made as little difference as I +could in my intercourse with him. I continued to treat him almost as an equal. +The only difference I did make in our mode of life was that I no longer gave +him bed and board at the hostelry where I lodged in Passy, but placed the +chair-bedstead in the anteroom of the office permanently at his disposal, and +allowed him five sous a day for his breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +But owing to the scarcity of business that now came my way, Theodore had little +or nothing to do, and he was in very truth eating his head off, and with that, +grumble, grumble all the time, threatening to leave me, if you please, to leave +my service for more remunerative occupation. As if anyone else would dream of +employing such an out-at-elbows mudlark—a jail-bird, Sir, if you’ll +believe me. +</p> + +<p> +Thus the Spring of 1816 came along. Spring, Sir, with its beauty and its +promises, and the thoughts of love which come eternally in the minds of those +who have not yet wholly done with youth. Love, Sir! I dreamed of it on those +long, weary afternoons in April, after I had consumed my scanty repast, and +whilst Theodore in the anteroom was snoring like a hog. At even, when tired out +and thirsty, I would sit for a while outside a humble café on the outer +boulevards, I watched the amorous couples wander past me on their way to +happiness. At night I could not sleep, and bitter were my thoughts, my +revilings against a cruel fate that had condemned me—a man with so +sensitive a heart and so generous a nature—to the sorrows of perpetual +solitude. +</p> + +<p> +That, Sir, was my mood, when on a never-to-be-forgotten afternoon toward the +end of April, I sat mooning disconsolately in my private room and a timid +rat-tat at the outer door of the apartment roused Theodore from his brutish +slumbers. I heard him shuffling up to the door, and I hurriedly put my necktie +straight and smoothed my hair, which had become disordered despite the fact +that I had only indulged in a very abstemious déjeuner. +</p> + +<p> +When I said that the knock at my door was in the nature of a timid rat-rat I +did not perhaps describe it quite accurately. It was timid, if you will +understand me, and yet bold, as coming from one who might hesitate to enter and +nevertheless feels assured of welcome. Obviously a client, I thought. +</p> + +<p> +Effectively, Sir, the next moment my eyes were gladdened by the sight of a +lovely woman, beautifully dressed, young, charming, smiling but to hide her +anxiety, trustful, and certainly wealthy. +</p> + +<p> +The moment she stepped into the room I knew that she was wealthy; there was an +air of assurance about her which only those are able to assume who are not +pestered with creditors. She wore two beautiful diamond rings upon her hands +outside her perfectly fitting glove, and her bonnet was adorned with flowers so +exquisitely fashioned that a butterfly would have been deceived and would have +perched on it with delight. +</p> + +<p> +Her shoes were of the finest kid, shiny at the toes like tiny mirrors, whilst +her dainty ankles were framed in the filmy lace frills of her pantalets. +</p> + +<p> +Within the wide brim of her bonnet her exquisite face appeared like a rosebud +nestling in a basket. She smiled when I rose to greet her, gave me a look that +sent my susceptible heart a-flutter and caused me to wish that I had not taken +that bottle-green coat of mine to the Mont de Piété only last week. I offered +her a seat, which she took, arranging her skirts about her with inimitable +grace. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment,” I added, as soon as she was seated, “and I am entirely at your +service.” +</p> + +<p> +I took up pen and paper—an unfinished letter which I always keep handy +for the purpose—and wrote rapidly. It always looks well for a lawyer or +an <i>agent confidentiel</i> to keep a client waiting for a moment or two while +he attends to the enormous pressure of correspondence which, if allowed to +accumulate for five minutes, would immediately overwhelm him. I signed and +folded the letter, threw it with a nonchalant air into a basket filled to the +brim with others of equal importance, buried my face in my hands for a few +seconds as if to collect my thoughts, and finally said: +</p> + +<p> +“And now, Mademoiselle, will you deign to tell me what procures me the honour +of your visit?” +</p> + +<p> +The lovely creature had watched my movements with obvious impatience, a frown +upon her exquisite brow. But now she plunged straightway into her story. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur,” she said with that pretty, determined air which became her so well, +“my name is Estelle Bachelier. I am an orphan, an heiress, and have need of +help and advice. I did not know to whom to apply. Until three months ago I was +poor and had to earn my living by working in a milliner’s shop in the Rue St. +Honoré. The concierge in the house where I used to lodge is my only friend, but +she cannot help me for reasons which will presently be made clear to you. She +told me, however, that she had a nephew named Theodore, who was clerk to M. +Ratichon, advocate and confidential agent. She gave me your address; and as I +knew no one else I determined to come and consult you.” +</p> + +<p> +I flatter myself, that though my countenance is exceptionally mobile, I possess +marvellous powers for keeping it impassive when necessity arises. In this +instance, at mention of Theodore’s name, I showed neither surprise nor +indignation. Yet you will readily understand that I felt both. Here was that +man, once more revealed as a traitor. Theodore had an aunt of whom he had never +as much as breathed a word. He had an aunt, and that aunt a +concierge—<i>ipso facto</i>, if I may so express it, a woman of some +substance, who, no doubt, would often have been only too pleased to extend +hospitality to the man who had so signally befriended her nephew; a woman, Sir, +who was undoubtedly possessed of savings which both reason and gratitude would +cause her to invest in an old-established and substantial business run by a +trustworthy and capable man, such, for instance, as the bureau of a +confidential agent in a good quarter of Paris, which, with the help of a little +capital, could be rendered highly lucrative and beneficial to all those, +concerned. +</p> + +<p> +I determined then and there to give Theodore a piece of my mind and to insist +upon an introduction to his aunt. After which I begged the beautiful creature +to proceed. +</p> + +<p> +“My father, Monsieur,” she continued, “died three months ago, in England, +whither he had emigrated when I was a mere child, leaving my poor mother to +struggle along for a livelihood as best she could. My mother died last year, +Monsieur, and I have had a hard life; and now it seems that my father made a +fortune in England and left it all to me.” +</p> + +<p> +I was greatly interested in her story. +</p> + +<p> +“The first intimation I had of it, Monsieur, was three months ago, when I had a +letter from an English lawyer in London telling me that my father, Jean Paul +Bachelier—that was his name, Monsieur—had died out there and made a +will leaving all his money, about one hundred thousand francs, to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes!” I murmured, for my throat felt parched and my eyes dim. +</p> + +<p> +Hundred thousand francs! Ye gods! +</p> + +<p> +“It seems,” she proceeded demurely, “that my father put it in his will that the +English lawyers were to pay me the interest on the money until I married or +reached the age of twenty-one. Then the whole of the money was to be handed +over to me.” +</p> + +<p> +I had to steady myself against the table or I would have fallen over backwards! +This godlike creature, to whom the sum of one hundred thousand francs was to be +paid over when she married, had come to me for help and advice! The thought +sent my brain reeling! I am so imaginative! +</p> + +<p> +“Proceed, Mademoiselle, I pray you,” I contrived to say with dignified calm. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Monsieur, as I don’t know a word of English, I took the letter to Mr. +Farewell, who is the English traveller for Madame Cécile, the milliner for whom +I worked. He is a kind, affable gentleman and was most helpful to me. He was, +as a matter of fact, just going over to England the very next day. He offered +to go and see the English lawyers for me, and to bring me back all particulars +of my dear father’s death and of my unexpected fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +“And,” said I, for she had paused a moment, “did Mr. Farewell go to England on +your behalf?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Monsieur. He went and returned about a fortnight later. He had seen the +English lawyers, who confirmed all the good news which was contained in their +letter. They took, it seems, a great fancy to Mr. Farewell, and told him that +since I was obviously too young to live alone and needed a guardian to look +after my interests, they would appoint him my guardian, and suggested that I +should make my home with him until I was married or had attained the age of +twenty-one. Mr. Farewell told me that though this arrangement might be somewhat +inconvenient in his bachelor establishment, he had been unable to resist the +entreaties of the English lawyers, who felt that no one was more fitted for +such onerous duties than himself, seeing that he was English and so obviously +my friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“The scoundrel! The blackguard!” I exclaimed in an unguarded outburst of fury. +. . . +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon, Mademoiselle,” I added more calmly, seeing that the lovely +creature was gazing at me with eyes full of astonishment not unmixed with +distrust, “I am anticipating. Am I to understand, then, that you have made your +home with this Mr. Farewell?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Monsieur, at number sixty-five Rue des Pyramides.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is he a married man?” I asked casually. +</p> + +<p> +“He is a widower, Monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +“Middle-aged?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite elderly, Monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +I could have screamed with joy. I was not yet forty myself. +</p> + +<p> +“Why!” she added gaily, “he is thinking of retiring from business—he is, +as I said, a commercial traveller—in favour of his nephew, M. Adrien +Cazalès.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more I had to steady myself against the table. The room swam round me. One +hundred thousand francs!—a lovely creature!—an unscrupulous +widower!—an equally dangerous young nephew. I rose and tottered to the +window. I flung it wide open—a thing I never do save at moments of acute +crises. +</p> + +<p> +The breath of fresh air did me good. I returned to my desk, and was able once +more to assume my habitual dignity and presence of mind. +</p> + +<p> +“In all this, Mademoiselle,” I said in my best professional manner, “I do not +gather how I can be of service to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am coming to that, Monsieur,” she resumed after a slight moment of +hesitation, even as an exquisite blush suffused her damask cheeks. “You must +know that at first I was very happy in the house of my new guardian. He was +exceedingly kind to me, though there were times already when I fancied . . .” +</p> + +<p> +She hesitated—more markedly this time—and the blush became deeper +on her cheeks. I groaned aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely he is too old,” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Much too old,” she assented emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +Once more I would have screamed with joy had not a sharp pang, like a +dagger-thrust, shot through my heart. +</p> + +<p> +“But the nephew, eh?” I said as jocosely, as indifferently as I could. “Young +M. Cazalès? What?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she replied with perfect indifference. “I hardly ever see him.” +</p> + +<p> +Unfortunately it were not seemly for an avocat and the <i>agent +confidentiel</i> of half the Courts of Europe to execute the measures of a +polka in the presence of a client, or I would indeed have jumped up and danced +with glee. The happy thoughts were hammering away in my mind: “The old one is +much too old—the young one she never sees!” and I could have knelt down +and kissed the hem of her gown for the exquisite indifference with which she +had uttered those magic words: “Oh! I hardly ever see him!”—words which +converted my brightest hopes into glowing possibilities. +</p> + +<p> +But, as it was, I held my emotions marvellously in check, and with perfect +sang-froid once more asked the beauteous creature how I could be of service to +her in her need. +</p> + +<p> +“Of late, Monsieur,” she said, as she raised a pair of limpid, candid blue eyes +to mine, “my position in Mr. Farewell’s house has become intolerable. He +pursues me with his attentions, and he has become insanely jealous. He will not +allow me to speak to anyone, and has even forbidden M. Cazalès, his own nephew, +the house. Not that I care about that,” she added with an expressive shrug of +the shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“He has forbidden M. Cazalès the house,” rang like a paean in my ear. “Not that +she cares about that! Tra la, la, la, la, la!” What I actually contrived to say +with a measured and judicial air was: +</p> + +<p> +“If you deign to entrust me with the conduct of your affairs, I would at once +communicate with the English lawyers in your name and suggest to them the +advisability of appointing another guardian. . . . I would suggest, for +instance . . . er . . . that I . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“How can you do that, Monsieur?” she broke in somewhat impatiently, “seeing +that I cannot possibly tell you who these lawyers are?” +</p> + +<p> +“Eh?” I queried, gasping. +</p> + +<p> +“I neither know their names nor their residence in England.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more I gasped. “Will you explain?” I murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems, Monsieur, that while my dear mother lived she always refused to take +a single sou from my father, who had so basely deserted her. Of course, she did +not know that he was making a fortune over in England, nor that he was making +diligent inquiries as to her whereabouts when he felt that he was going to die. +Thus, he discovered that she had died the previous year and that I was working +in the atelier of Madame Cécile, the well-known milliner. When the English +lawyers wrote to me at that address they, of course, said that they would +require all my papers of identification before they paid any money over to me, +and so, when Mr. Farewell went over to England, he took all my papers with him +and . . .” +</p> + +<p> +She burst into tears and exclaimed piteously: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I have nothing now, Monsieur—nothing to prove who I am! Mr. Farewell +took everything, even the original letter which the English lawyers wrote to +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Farewell,” I urged, “can be forced by the law to give all your papers up to +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I have nothing now, Monsieur—he threatened to destroy all my papers +unless I promised to become his wife! And I haven’t the least idea how and +where to find the English lawyers. I don’t remember either their name or their +address; and if I did, how could I prove my identity to their satisfaction? I +don’t know a soul in Paris save a few irresponsible millinery apprentices and +Madame Cécile, who, no doubt, is hand in glove with Mr. Farewell. I am all +alone in the world and friendless. . . . I have come to you, Monsieur, in my +distress . . . and you will help me, will you not?” +</p> + +<p> +She looked more adorable in grief than she had ever done before. +</p> + +<p> +To tell you that at this moment visions floated in my mind, before which +Dante’s visions of Paradise would seem pale and tame, were but to put it +mildly. I was literally soaring in heaven. For you see I am a man of intellect +and of action. No sooner do I see possibilities before me than my brain soars +in an empyrean whilst conceiving daring plans for my body’s permanent abode in +elysium. At this present moment, for instance—to name but a few of the +beatific visions which literally dazzled me with their radiance—I could +see my fair client as a lovely and blushing bride by my side, even whilst +Messieurs X. and X., the two still unknown English lawyers, handed me a heavy +bag which bore the legend “One hundred thousand francs.” I could see . . . But +I had not the time now to dwell on these ravishing dreams. The beauteous +creature was waiting for my decision. She had placed her fate in my hands; I +placed my hand on my heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle,” I said solemnly, “I will be your adviser and your friend. Give +me but a few days’ grace, every hour, every minute of which I will spend in +your service. At the end of that time I will not only have learned the name and +address of the English lawyers, but I will have communicated with them on your +behalf, and all your papers proving your identity will be in your hands. Then +we can come to a decision with regard to a happier and more comfortable home +for you. In the meanwhile I entreat you to do nothing that may precipitate Mr. +Farewell’s actions. Do not encourage his advances, but do not repulse them, and +above all keep me well informed of everything that goes on in his house.” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke a few words of touching gratitude, then she rose, and with a gesture +of exquisite grace she extracted a hundred-franc note from her reticule and +placed it upon my desk. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle,” I protested with splendid dignity, “I have done nothing as +yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! but you will, Monsieur,” she entreated in accents that completed my +subjugation to her charms. “Besides, you do not know me! How could I expect you +to work for me and not to know if, in the end, I should repay you for all your +trouble? I pray you to take this small sum without demur. Mr. Farewell keeps me +well supplied with pocket money. There will be another hundred for you when you +place the papers in my hands.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed to her, and, having once more assured her of my unswerving loyalty to +her interests, I accompanied her to the door, and anon saw her graceful figure +slowly descend the stairs and then disappear along the corridor. +</p> + +<p> +Then I went back to my room, and was only just in time to catch Theodore calmly +pocketing the hundred-franc note which my fair client had left on the table. I +secured the note and I didn’t give him a black eye, for it was no use putting +him in a bad temper when there was so much to do. +</p> + +<h3>2.</h3> + +<p> +That very same evening I interviewed the concierge at No. 65 Rue des Pyramides. +From him I learned that Mr. Farewell lived on a very small income on the top +floor of the house, that his household consisted of a housekeeper who cooked +and did the work of the apartment for him, and an odd-job man who came every +morning to clean boots, knives, draw water and carry up fuel from below. I also +learned that there was a good deal of gossip in the house anent the presence in +Mr. Farewell’s bachelor establishment of a young and beautiful girl, whom he +tried to keep a virtual prisoner under his eye. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning, dressed in a shabby blouse, alpaca cap, and trousers frayed +out round the ankles, I—Hector Ratichon, the confidant of kings—was +lounging under the porte-cochere of No. 65 Rue des Pyramides. I was watching +the movements of a man, similarly attired to myself, as he crossed and +recrossed the courtyard to draw water from the well or to fetch wood from one +of the sheds, and then disappeared up the main staircase. +</p> + +<p> +A casual, tactful inquiry of the concierge assured me that that man was indeed +in the employ of Mr. Farewell. +</p> + +<p> +I waited as patiently and inconspicuously as I could, and at ten o’clock I saw +that my man had obviously finished his work for the morning and had finally +come down the stairs ready to go home. I followed him. +</p> + +<p> +I will not speak of the long halt in the cabaret du Chien Noir, where he spent +an hour and a half in the company of his friends, playing dominoes and drinking +eau-de-vie whilst I had perforce to cool my heels outside. Suffice it to say +that I did follow him to his house just behind the fish-market, and that half +an hour later, tired out but triumphant, having knocked at his door, I was +admitted into the squalid room which he occupied. +</p> + +<p> +He surveyed me with obvious mistrust, but I soon reassured him. +</p> + +<p> +“My friend Mr. Farewell has recommended you to me,” I said with my usual +affability. “I was telling him just awhile ago that I needed a man to look +after my office in the Rue Daunou of a morning, and he told me that in you I +would find just the man I wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm!” grunted the fellow, very sullenly I thought. “I work for Farewell in the +mornings. Why should he recommend me to you? Am I not giving satisfaction?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfect satisfaction,” I rejoined urbanely; “that is just the point. Mr. +Farewell desires to do you a good turn seeing that I offered to pay you twenty +sous for your morning’s work instead of the ten which you are getting from +him.” +</p> + +<p> +I saw his eyes glisten at mention of the twenty sous. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d best go and tell him then that I am taking on your work,” he said; and his +tone was no longer sullen now. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite unnecessary,” I rejoined. “I arranged everything with Mr. Farewell +before I came to you. He has already found someone else to do his work, and I +shall want you to be at my office by seven o’clock to-morrow morning. And,” I +added, for I am always cautious and judicious, and I now placed a piece of +silver in his hand, “here are the first twenty sous on account.” +</p> + +<p> +He took the money and promptly became very civil, even obsequious. He not only +accompanied me to the door, but all the way down the stairs, and assured me all +the time that he would do his best to give me entire satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +I left my address with him, and sure enough, he turned up at the office the +next morning at seven o’clock precisely. +</p> + +<p> +Theodore had had my orders to direct him in his work, and I was left free to +enact the second scene of the moving drama in which I was determined to play +the hero and to ring down the curtain to the sound of the wedding bells. +</p> + +<h3>3.</h3> + +<p> +I took on the work of odd-job man at 65 Rue des Pyramides. Yes, I! Even I, who +had sat in the private room of an emperor discussing the destinies of Europe. +</p> + +<p> +But with a beautiful bride and one hundred thousand francs as my goal I would +have worked in a coal mine or on the galleys for such a guerdon. +</p> + +<p> +The task, I must tell you, was terribly irksome to a man of my sensibilities, +endowed with an active mind and a vivid imagination. The dreary monotony of +fetching water and fuel from below and polishing the boots of that +arch-scoundrel Farewell would have made a less stout spirit quail. I had, of +course, seen through the scoundrel’s game at once. He had rendered Estelle +quite helpless by keeping all her papers of identification and by withholding +from her all the letters which, no doubt, the English lawyers wrote to her from +time to time. Thus she was entirely in his power. But, thank heaven! only +momentarily, for I, Hector Ratichon, argus-eyed, was on the watch. Now and then +the monotony of my existence and the hardship of my task were relieved by a +brief glimpse of Estelle or a smile of understanding from her lips; now and +then she would contrive to murmur as she brushed past me while I was polishing +the scoundrel’s study floor, “Any luck yet?” And this quiet understanding +between us gave me courage to go on with my task. +</p> + +<p> +After three days I had conclusively made up my mind that Mr. Farewell kept his +valuable papers in the drawer of the bureau in the study. After that I always +kept a lump of wax ready for use in my pocket. On the fifth day I was very +nearly caught trying to take an impression of the lock of the bureau drawer. On +the seventh I succeeded, and took the impression over to a locksmith I knew of, +and gave him an order to have a key made to fit it immediately. On the ninth +day I had the key. +</p> + +<p> +Then commenced a series of disappointments and of unprofitable days which would +have daunted one less bold and less determined. I don’t think that Farewell +ever suspected me, but it is a fact that never once did he leave me alone in +his study whilst I was at work there polishing the oak floor. And in the +meanwhile I could see how he was pursuing my beautiful Estelle with his +unwelcome attentions. At times I feared that he meant to abduct her; his was a +powerful personality and she seemed like a little bird fighting against the +fascination of a serpent. Latterly, too, an air of discouragement seemed to +dwell upon her lovely face. I was half distraught with anxiety, and once or +twice, whilst I knelt upon the hard floor, scrubbing and polishing as if my +life depended on it, whilst he—the unscrupulous scoundrel—sat +calmly at his desk, reading or writing, I used to feel as if the next moment I +must attack him with my scrubbing-brush and knock him down senseless whilst I +ransacked his drawers. My horror of anything approaching violence saved me from +so foolish a step. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that in the hour of my blackest despair a flash of genius pierced +through the darkness of my misery. For some days now Madame Dupont, Farewell’s +housekeeper, had been exceedingly affable to me. Every morning now, when I came +to work, there was a cup of hot coffee waiting for me, and, when I left, a +small parcel of something appetizing for me to take away. +</p> + +<p> +“Hallo!” I said to myself one day, when, over a cup of coffee, I caught sight +of her small, piggy eyes leering at me with an unmistakable expression of +admiration. “Does salvation lie where I least expected it?” +</p> + +<p> +For the moment I did nothing more than wink at the fat old thing, but the next +morning I had my arm round her waist—a metre and a quarter, Sir, where it +was tied in the middle—and had imprinted a kiss upon her glossy cheek. +What that love-making cost me I cannot attempt to describe. Once Estelle came +into the kitchen when I was staggering under a load of a hundred kilos sitting +on my knee. The reproachful glance which she cast at me filled my soul with +unspeakable sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +But I was working for her dear sake; working that I might win her in the end. +</p> + +<p> +A week later Mr. Farewell was absent from home for the evening. Estelle had +retired to her room, and I was a welcome visitor in the kitchen, where Madame +Dupont had laid out a regular feast for me. I had brought a couple of bottles +of champagne with me and, what with the unaccustomed drink and the ogling and +love-making to which I treated her, a hundred kilos of foolish womanhood was +soon hopelessly addled and incapable. I managed to drag her to the sofa, where +she remained quite still, with a beatific smile upon her podgy face, her eyes +swimming in happy tears. +</p> + +<p> +I had not a moment to lose. The very next minute I was in the study and with a +steady hand was opening the drawers of the bureau and turning over the letters +and papers which I found therein. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly an exclamation of triumph escaped my lips. +</p> + +<p> +I held a packet in my hand on which was written in a clear hand: “The papers of +Mlle. Estelle Bachelier.” A brief examination of the packet sufficed. It +consisted of a number of letters written in English, which language I only +partially understand, but they all bore the same signature, “John Pike and +Sons, solicitors,” and the address was at the top, “168 Cornhill, London.” It +also contained my Estelle’s birth certificate, her mother’s marriage +certificate, and her police registration card. +</p> + +<p> +I was rapt in the contemplation of my own ingenuity in having thus brilliantly +attained my goal, when a stealthy noise in the next room roused me from my +trance and brought up vividly to my mind the awful risks which I was running at +this moment. I turned like an animal at bay to see Estelle’s beautiful face +peeping at me through the half-open door. +</p> + +<p> +“Hist!” she whispered. “Have you got the papers?” +</p> + +<p> +I waved the packet triumphantly. She, excited and adorable, stepped briskly +into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see,” she murmured excitedly. +</p> + +<p> +But I, emboldened by success, cried gaily: +</p> + +<p> +“Not till I have received compensation for all that I have done and endured.” +</p> + +<p> +“Compensation?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the shape of a kiss.” +</p> + +<p> +Oh! I won’t say that she threw herself in my arms then and there. No, no! She +demurred. All young girls, it seems, demur under the circumstances; but she was +adorable, coy and tender in turns, pouting and coaxing, and playing like a +kitten till she had taken the papers from me and, with a woman’s natural +curiosity, had turned the English letters over and over, even though she could +not read a word of them. +</p> + +<p> +Then, Sir, in the midst of her innocent frolic and at the very moment when I +was on the point of snatching the kiss which she had so tantalizingly denied +me, we heard the opening and closing of the front door. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Farewell had come home, and there was no other egress from the study save +the sitting-room, which in its turn had no other egress but the door leading +into the very passage where even now Mr. Farewell was standing, hanging up his +hat and cloak on the rack. +</p> + +<h3>4.</h3> + +<p> +We stood hand in hand—Estelle and I—fronting the door through which +Mr. Farewell would presently appear. +</p> + +<p> +“To-night we fly together,” I declared. +</p> + +<p> +“Where to?” she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you go to the woman at your former lodgings?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will take you there to-night. To-morrow we will be married before the +Procureur du Roi; in the evening we leave for England.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes!” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“When he comes in I’ll engage him in conversation,” I continued hurriedly. “You +make a dash for the door and run downstairs as fast as you can. I’ll follow as +quickly as may be and meet you under the porte-cochere.” +</p> + +<p> +She had only just time to nod assent when the door which gave on the +sitting-room was pushed open, and Farewell, unconscious at first of our +presence, stepped quietly into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Estelle,” he cried, more puzzled than angry when he suddenly caught sight of +us both, “what are you doing here with that lout?” +</p> + +<p> +I was trembling with excitement—not fear, of course, though Farewell was +a powerful-looking man, a head taller than I was. I stepped boldly forward, +covering the adored one with my body. +</p> + +<p> +“The lout,” I said with calm dignity, “has frustrated the machinations of a +knave. To-morrow I go to England in order to place Mademoiselle Estelle +Bachelier under the protection of her legal guardians, Messieurs Pike and Sons, +solicitors, of London.” +</p> + +<p> +He gave a cry of rage, and before I could retire to some safe entrenchment +behind the table or the sofa, he was upon me like a mad dog. He had me by the +throat, and I had rolled backwards down on to the floor, with him on the top of +me, squeezing the breath out of me till I verily thought that my last hour had +come. Estelle had run out of the room like a startled hare. This, of course, +was in accordance with my instructions to her, but I could not help wishing +then that she had been less obedient and somewhat more helpful. +</p> + +<p> +As it was, I was beginning to feel a mere worm in the grip of that savage +scoundrel, whose face I could perceive just above me, distorted with passion, +whilst hoarse ejaculations escaped his trembling lips: +</p> + +<p> +“You meddlesome fool! You oaf! You toad! This for your interference!” he added +as he gave me a vigorous punch on the head. +</p> + +<p> +I felt my senses reeling. My head was swimming, my eyes no longer could see +distinctly. It seemed as if an unbearable pressure upon my chest would finally +squeeze the last breath out of my body. +</p> + +<p> +I was trying to remember the prayers I used to murmur at my mother’s knee, for +verily I thought that I was dying, when suddenly, through my fading senses, +came the sound of a long, hoarse cry, whilst the floor was shaken as with an +earthquake. The next moment the pressure on my chest seemed to relax. I could +hear Farewell’s voice uttering language such as it would be impossible for me +to put on record; and through it all hoarse and convulsive cries of: “You +shan’t hurt him—you limb of Satan, you!” +</p> + +<p> +Gradually strength returned to me. I could see as well as hear, and what I saw +filled me with wonder and with pride. Wonder at Ma’ame Dupont’s pluck! Pride in +that her love for me had given such power to her mighty arms! Aroused from her +slumbers by the sound of the scuffle, she had run to the study, only to find me +in deadly peril of my life. Without a second’s hesitation she had rushed on +Farewell, seized him by the collar, pulled him away from me, and then thrown +the whole weight of her hundred kilos upon him, rendering him helpless. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, woman! lovely, selfless woman! My heart a prey to remorse, in that I could +not remain in order to thank my plucky deliverer, I nevertheless finally +struggled to my feet and fled from the apartment and down the stairs, never +drawing breath till I felt Estelle’s hand resting confidingly upon my arm. +</p> + +<h3>5.</h3> + +<p> +I took her to the house where she used to lodge, and placed her under the care +of the kind concierge who was Theodore’s aunt. Then I, too, went home, +determined to get a good night’s rest. The morning would be a busy one for me. +There would be the special licence to get, the cure of St. Jacques to +interview, the religious ceremony to arrange for, and the places to book on the +stagecoach for Boulogne <i>en route</i> for England—and fortune. +</p> + +<p> +I was supremely happy and slept the sleep of the just. I was up betimes and +started on my round of business at eight o’clock the next morning. I was a +little troubled about money, because when I had paid for the licence and given +to the cure the required fee for the religious service and ceremony, I had only +five francs left out of the hundred which the adored one had given me. However, +I booked the seats on the stage-coach and determined to trust to luck. Once +Estelle was my wife, all money care would be at an end, since no power on earth +could stand between me and the hundred thousand francs, the happy goal for +which I had so ably striven. +</p> + +<p> +The marriage ceremony was fixed for eleven o’clock, and it was just upon ten +when, at last, with a light heart and springy step, I ran up the dingy +staircase which led to the adored one’s apartments. I knocked at the door. It +was opened by a young man, who with a smile courteously bade me enter. I felt a +little bewildered—and slightly annoyed. My Estelle should not receive +visits from young men at this hour. I pushed past the intruder in the passage +and walked boldly into the room beyond. +</p> + +<p> +Estelle was sitting upon the sofa, her eyes bright, her mouth smiling, a dimple +in each cheek. I approached her with outstretched arms, but she paid no heed to +me, and turned to the young man, who had followed me into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Adrien,” she said, “this is kind M. Ratichon, who at risk of his life obtained +for us all my papers of identification and also the valuable name and address +of the English lawyers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur,” added the young man as he extended his hand to me, “Estelle and I +will remain eternally your debtors.” +</p> + +<p> +I struck at the hand which he had so impudently held out to me and turned to +Estelle with my usual dignified calm, but with wrath expressed in every line of +my face. +</p> + +<p> +“Estelle,” I said, “what is the meaning of this?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” she retorted with one of her provoking smiles, “you must not call me +Estelle, you know, or Adrien will smack your face. We are indeed grateful to +you, my good M. Ratichon,” she continued more seriously, “and though I only +promised you another hundred francs when your work for me was completed, my +husband and I have decided to give you a thousand francs in view of the risks +which you ran on our behalf.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your husband!” I stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“I was married to M. Adrien Cazalès a month ago,” she said, “but we had +perforce to keep our marriage a secret, because Mr. Farewell once vowed to me +that unless I became his wife he would destroy all my papers of identification, +and then—even if I ever succeeded in discovering who were the English +lawyers who had charge of my father’s money—I could never prove it to +them that I and no one else was entitled to it. But for you, dear M. Ratichon,” +added the cruel and shameless one, “I should indeed never have succeeded.” +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of this overwhelming cataclysm I am proud to say that I retained +mastery over my rage and contrived to say with perfect calm: +</p> + +<p> +“But why have deceived me, Mademoiselle? Why have kept your marriage a secret +from me? Was I not toiling and working and risking my life for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“And would you have worked quite so enthusiastically for me,” queried the false +one archly, “if I had told you everything?” +</p> + +<p> +I groaned. Perhaps she was right. I don’t know. +</p> + +<p> +I took the thousand francs and never saw M. and Mme. Cazalès again. +</p> + +<p> +But I met Ma’ame Dupont by accident soon after. She has left Mr. Farewell’s +service. +</p> + +<p> +She still weighs one hundred kilos. +</p> + +<p> +I often call on her of an evening. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, well! +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0003"></a> +CHAPTER III. — ON THE BRINK</h2> + +<h3>1.</h3> + +<p> +You would have thought that after the shameful way in which Theodore treated me +in the matter of the secret treaty that I would then and there have turned him +out of doors, sent him back to grub for scraps out of the gutter, and hardened +my heart once and for all against that snake in the grass whom I had nurtured +in my bosom. +</p> + +<p> +But, as no doubt you have remarked ere this, I have been burdened by Nature +with an over-sensitive heart. It is a burden, my dear Sir, and though I have +suffered inexpressibly under it, I nevertheless agree with the English poet, +George Crabbe, whose works I have read with a great deal of pleasure and profit +in the original tongue, and who avers in one of his inimitable “Tales” that it +is “better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.” +</p> + +<p> +Not that I loved Theodore, you understand? But he and I had shared so many ups +and downs together of late that I was loath to think of him as reduced to +begging his bread in the streets. Then I kept him by me, for I thought that he +might at times be useful to me in my business. +</p> + +<p> +I kept him to my hurt, as you will presently see. +</p> + +<p> +In those days—I am now speaking of the time immediately following the +Restoration of our beloved King Louis XVIII to the throne of his +forbears—Parisian society was, as it were, divided into two distinct +categories: those who had become impoverished by the revolution and the wars of +the Empire, and those who had made their fortunes thereby. Among the former was +M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour, a handsome young officer of cavalry; and among +the latter was one Mauruss Mosenstein, a usurer of the Jewish persuasion, whose +wealth was reputed in millions, and who had a handsome daughter biblically +named Rachel, who a year ago had become Madame la Marquise de Firmin-Latour. +</p> + +<p> +From the first moment that this brilliant young couple appeared upon the +firmament of Parisian society I took a keen interest in all their doings. In +those days, you understand, it was in the essence of my business to know as +much as possible of the private affairs of people in their position, and +instinct had at once told me that in the case of M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour +such knowledge might prove very remunerative. +</p> + +<p> +Thus I very soon found out that M. le Marquis had not a single louis of his own +to bless himself with, and that it was Papa Mosenstein’s millions that kept up +the young people’s magnificent establishment in the Rue de Grammont. +</p> + +<p> +I also found out that Mme. la Marquise was some dozen years older than +Monsieur, and that she had been a widow when she married him. There were +rumours that her first marriage had not been a happy one. The husband, M. le +Compte de Naquet, had been a gambler and a spendthrift, and had dissipated as +much of his wife’s fortune as he could lay his hands on, until one day he went +off on a voyage to America, or goodness knows where, and was never heard of +again. Mme. la Comtesse, as she then was, did not grieve over her loss; indeed, +she returned to the bosom of her family, and her father—a shrewd usurer, +who had amassed an enormous fortune during the wars—succeeded, with the +aid of his apparently bottomless moneybags, in having his first son-in-law +declared deceased by Royal decree, so as to enable the beautiful Rachel to +contract another, yet more brilliant alliance, as far as name and lineage were +concerned, with the Marquis de Firmin-Latour. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, I learned that the worthy Israelite’s one passion was the social +advancement of his daughter, whom he worshipped. So, as soon as the marriage +was consummated and the young people were home from their honeymoon, he fitted +up for their use the most extravagantly sumptuous apartment Paris had ever +seen. Nothing seemed too good or too luxurious for Mme. la Marquise de +Firmin-Latour. He desired her to cut a brilliant figure in Paris +society—nay, to be the Ville Lumiere’s brightest and most particular +star. After the town house he bought a chateau in the country, horses and +carriages, which he placed at the disposal of the young couple; he kept up an +army of servants for them, and replenished their cellars with the choicest +wines. He threw money about for diamonds and pearls which his daughter wore, +and paid all his son-in-law’s tailors’ and shirt-makers’ bills. But always the +money was his, you understand? The house in Paris was his, so was the chateau +on the Loire; he lent them to his daughter. He lent her the diamonds, and the +carriages, and the boxes at the opera and the Français. But here his generosity +ended. He had been deceived in his daughter’s first husband; some of the money +which he had given her had gone to pay the gambling debts of an unscrupulous +spendthrift. He was determined that this should not occur again. A man might +spend his wife’s money—indeed, the law placed most of it at his disposal +in those days—but he could not touch or mortgage one sou that belonged to +his father-in-law. And, strangely enough, Mme. la Marquise de Firmin-Latour +acquiesced and aided her father in his determination. Whether it was the Jewish +blood in her, or merely obedience to old Mosenstein’s whim, it were impossible +to say. Certain it is that out of the lavish pin-money which her father gave +her as a free gift from time to time, she only doled out a meagre allowance to +her husband, and although she had everything she wanted, M. le Marquis on his +side had often less than twenty francs in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +A very humiliating position, you will admit, Sir, for a dashing young cavalry +officer. Often have I seen him gnawing his finger-nails with rage when, at the +end of a copious dinner in one of the fashionable restaurants—where I +myself was engaged in a business capacity to keep an eye on possibly +light-fingered customers—it would be Mme. la Marquise who paid the bill, +even gave the pourboire to the waiter. At such times my heart would be filled +with pity for his misfortunes, and, in my own proud and lofty independence, I +felt that I did not envy him his wife’s millions. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, he borrowed from every usurer in the city for as long as they would +lend him any money; but now he was up to his eyes in debt, and there was not a +Jew inside France who would have lent him one hundred francs. +</p> + +<p> +You see, his precarious position was as well known as were his extravagant +tastes and the obstinate parsimoniousness of M. Mosenstein. +</p> + +<p> +But such men as M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour, you understand, Sir, are +destined by Nature first and by fortuitous circumstances afterwards to become +the clients of men of ability like myself. I knew that sooner or later the +elegant young soldier would be forced to seek the advice of someone wiser than +himself, for indeed his present situation could not last much longer. It would +soon be “sink” with him, for he could no longer “swim.” +</p> + +<p> +And I was determined that when that time came he should turn to me as the +drowning man turns to the straw. +</p> + +<p> +So where M. le Marquis went in public I went, when possible. I was biding my +time, and wisely too, as you will judge. +</p> + +<h3>2.</h3> + +<p> +Then one day our eyes met: not in a fashionable restaurant, I may tell you, but +in a discreet one situated on the slopes of Montmartre. I was there alone, +sipping a cup of coffee after a frugal dinner. I had drifted in there chiefly +because I had quite accidentally caught sight of M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour +walking arm-in-arm up the Rue Lepic with a lady who was both youthful and +charming—a well-known dancer at the opera. Presently I saw him turn into +that discreet little restaurant, where, in very truth, it was not likely that +Mme. la Marquise would follow him. But I did. What made me do it, I cannot say; +but for some time now it had been my wish to make the personal acquaintance of +M. de Firmin-Latour, and I lost no opportunity which might help me to attain +this desire. +</p> + +<p> +Somehow the man interested me. His social and financial position was peculiar, +you will admit, and here, methought, was the beginning of an adventure which +might prove the turning-point in his career and . . . my opportunity. I was not +wrong, as you will presently see. Whilst silently eating my simple dinner, I +watched M. de Firmin-Latour. +</p> + +<p> +He had started the evening by being very gay; he had ordered champagne and a +succulent meal, and chatted light-heartedly with his companion, until presently +three young women, flashily dressed, made noisy irruption into the restaurant. +</p> + +<p> +M. de Firmin-Latour’s friend hailed them, introduced them to him, and soon he +was host, not to one lady, but to four, and instead of two dinners he had to +order five, and more champagne, and then dessert—peaches, strawberries, +bonbons, liqueurs, flowers, and what not, until I could see that the bill which +presently he would be called upon to pay would amount to far more than his +quarterly allowance from Mme. la Marquise, far more, presumably, than he had in +his pocket at the present moment. +</p> + +<p> +My brain works with marvellous rapidity, as you know. Already I had made up my +mind to see the little comedy through to the end, and I watched with a good +deal of interest and some pity the clouds of anxiety gathering over M. de +Firmin-Latour’s brow. +</p> + +<p> +The dinner party lasted some considerable time; then the inevitable cataclysm +occurred. The ladies were busy chattering and rouging their lips when the bill +was presented. They affected to see and hear nothing: it is a way ladies have +when dinner has to be paid for; but I saw and heard everything. The waiter +stood by, silent and obsequious at first, whilst M. le Marquis hunted through +all his pockets. Then there was some whispered colloquy, and the waiter’s +attitude lost something of its correct dignity. After that the proprietor was +called, and the whispered colloquy degenerated into altercation, whilst the +ladies—not at all unaware of the situation—giggled amongst +themselves. Finally, M. le Marquis offered a promissory note, which was +refused. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that our eyes met. M. de Firmin-Latour had flushed to the roots of +his hair. His situation was indeed desperate, and my opportunity had come. With +consummate sang-froid, I advanced towards the agitated group composed of M. le +Marquis, the proprietor, and the head waiter. I glanced at the bill, the cause +of all this turmoil, which reposed on a metal salver in the head waiter’s hand, +and with a brief: +</p> + +<p> +“If M. le Marquis will allow me . . .” I produced my pocket-book. +</p> + +<p> +The bill was for nine hundred francs. +</p> + +<p> +At first M. le Marquis thought that I was about to pay it—and so did the +proprietor of the establishment, who made a movement as if he would lie down on +the floor and lick my boots. But not so. To begin with, I did not happen to +possess nine hundred francs, and if I did, I should not have been fool enough +to lend them to this young scapegrace. No! What I did was to extract from my +notebook a card, one of a series which I always keep by me in case of an +emergency like the present one. It bore the legend: “Comte Hercule de Montjoie, +secrétaire particulier de M. le Duc d’Otrante,” and below it the address, +“Palais du Commissariat de Police, 12 Quai d’Orsay.” This card I presented with +a graceful flourish of the arm to the proprietor of the establishment, whilst I +said with that lofty self-assurance which is one of my finest attributes and +which I have never seen equalled: +</p> + +<p> +“M. le Marquis is my friend. I will be guarantee for this trifling amount.” +</p> + +<p> +The proprietor and head waiter stammered excuses. Private secretary of M. le +Duc d’Otrante! Think of it! It is not often that such personages deign to +frequent the restaurants of Montmartre. M. le Marquis, on the other hand, +looked completely bewildered, whilst I, taking advantage of the situation, +seized him familiarly by the arm, and leading him toward the door, I said with +condescending urbanity: +</p> + +<p> +“One word with you, my dear Marquis. It is so long since we have met.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed to the ladies. +</p> + +<p> +“Mesdames,” I said, and was gratified to see that they followed my dramatic +exit with eyes of appreciation and of wonder. The proprietor himself offered me +my hat, and a moment or two later M. de Firmin-Latour and I were out together +in the Rue Lepic. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Comte,” he said as soon as he had recovered his breath, “how can I +think you? . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“Not now, Monsieur, not now,” I replied. “You have only just time to make your +way as quickly as you can back to your palace in the Rue de Grammont before our +friend the proprietor discovers the several mistakes which he has made in the +past few minutes and vents his wrath upon your fair guests.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are right,” he rejoined lightly. “But I will have the pleasure to call on +you to-morrow at the Palais du Commissariat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do no such thing, Monsieur le Marquis,” I retorted with a pleasant laugh. “You +would not find me there.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—” he stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” I broke in with my wonted business-like and persuasive manner, “if you +think that I have conducted this delicate affair for you with tact and +discretion, then, in your own interest I should advise you to call on me at my +private office, No. 96 Rue Daunou. Hector Ratichon, at your service.” +</p> + +<p> +He appeared more bewildered than ever. +</p> + +<p> +“Rue Daunou,” he murmured. “Ratichon!” +</p> + +<p> +“Private inquiry and confidential agent,” I rejoined. “My brains are at your +service should you desire to extricate yourself from the humiliating financial +position in which it has been my good luck to find you, and yours to meet with +me.” +</p> + +<p> +With that I left him, Sir, to walk away or stay as he pleased. As for me, I +went quickly down the street. I felt that the situation was absolutely perfect; +to have spoken another word might have spoilt it. Moreover, there was no +knowing how soon the proprietor of that humble hostelry would begin to have +doubts as to the identity of the private secretary of M. le Duc d’Otrante. So I +was best out of the way. +</p> + +<h3>3.</h3> + +<p> +The very next day M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour called upon me at my office in +the Rue Daunou. Theodore let him in, and the first thing that struck me about +him was his curt, haughty manner and the look of disdain wherewith he regarded +the humble appointments of my business premises. He himself was magnificently +dressed, I may tell you. His bottle-green coat was of the finest cloth and the +most perfect cut I had ever seen. His kerseymere pantaloons fitted him without +a wrinkle. He wore gloves, he carried a muff of priceless zibeline, and in his +cravat there was a diamond the size of a broad bean. +</p> + +<p> +He also carried a malacca cane, which he deposited upon my desk, and a +gold-rimmed spy-glass which, with a gesture of supreme affectation, he raised +to his eye. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, M. Hector Ratichon,” he said abruptly, “perhaps you will be good enough +to explain.” +</p> + +<p> +I had risen when he entered. But now I sat down again and coolly pointed to the +best chair in the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you give yourself the trouble to sit down, M. le Marquis?” I riposted +blandly. +</p> + +<p> +He called me names—rude names! but I took no notice of that . . . and he +sat down. +</p> + +<p> +“Now!” he said once more. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it you desire to know, M. le Marquis?” I queried. +</p> + +<p> +“Why you interfered in my affairs last night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you complain?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he admitted reluctantly, “but I don’t understand your object.” +</p> + +<p> +“My object was to serve you then,” I rejoined quietly, “and later.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by ‘later’?” +</p> + +<p> +“To-day,” I replied, “to-morrow; whenever your present position becomes +absolutely unendurable.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is that now,” he said with a savage oath. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought as much,” was my curt comment. +</p> + +<p> +“And do you mean to assert,” he went on more earnestly, “that you can find a +way out of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you desire it—yes!” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“How?” +</p> + +<p> +He drew his chair nearer to my desk, and I leaned forward, with my elbows on +the table, the finger-tips of one hand in contact with those of the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us begin by reviewing the situation, shall we, Monsieur?” I began. +</p> + +<p> +“If you wish,” he said curtly. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a gentleman of refined, not to say luxurious tastes, who finds himself +absolutely without means to gratify them. Is that so?” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“You have a wife and a father-in-law who, whilst lavishing costly treasures +upon you, leave you in a humiliating dependence on them for actual money.” +</p> + +<p> +Again he nodded approvingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Human nature,” I continued with gentle indulgence, “being what it is, you pine +after what you do not possess—namely, money. Houses, equipages, servants, +even good food and wine, are nothing to you beside that earnest desire for +money that you can call your own, and which, if only you had it, you could +spend at your pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“To the point, man, to the point!” he broke in impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, M. le Marquis, and I have done. But first of all, with your +permission, shall we also review the assets in your life which we will have to +use in order to arrive at the gratification of your earnest wish?” +</p> + +<p> +“Assets? What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“The means to our end. You want money; we must find the means to get it for +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I begin to understand,” he said, and drew his chair another inch or two closer +to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Firstly, M. le Marquis,” I resumed, and now my voice had become earnest and +incisive, “firstly you have a wife, then you have a father-in-law whose wealth +is beyond the dreams of humble people like myself, and whose one great passion +in life is the social position of the daughter whom he worships. Now,” I added, +and with the tip of my little finger I touched the sleeve of my aristocratic +client, “here at once is your first asset. Get at the money-bags of papa by +threatening the social position of his daughter.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon my young gentleman jumped to his feet and swore and abused me for a +mudlark and a muckworm and I don’t know what. He seized his malacca cane and +threatened me with it, and asked me how the devil I dared thus to speak of Mme. +la Marquise de Firmin-Latour. He cursed, and he stormed and he raved of his +sixteen quarterings and of my loutishness. He did everything in fact except +walk out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +I let him go on quite quietly. It was part of his programme, and we had to go +through the performance. As soon as he gave me the chance of putting in a word +edgeways I rejoined quietly: +</p> + +<p> +“We are not going to hurt Madame la Marquise, Monsieur; and if you do not want +the money, let us say no more about it.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon he calmed down; after a while he sat down again, this time with his +cane between his knees and its ivory knob between his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“Go on,” he said curtly. +</p> + +<p> +Nor did he interrupt me again whilst I expounded my scheme to him—one +that, mind you, I had evolved during the night, knowing well that I should +receive his visit during the day; and I flatter myself that no finer scheme for +the bleeding of a parsimonious usurer was ever devised by any man. +</p> + +<p> +If it succeeded—and there was no reason why it should not—M. de +Firmin-Latour would pocket a cool half-million, whilst I, sir, the brain that +had devised the whole scheme, pronounced myself satisfied with the paltry +emolument of one hundred thousand francs, out of which, remember, I should have +to give Theodore a considerable sum. +</p> + +<p> +We talked it all over, M. le Marquis and I, the whole afternoon. I may tell you +at once that he was positively delighted with the plan, and then and there gave +me one hundred francs out of his own meagre purse for my preliminary expenses. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning we began work. +</p> + +<p> +I had begged M. le Marquis to find the means of bringing me a few scraps of the +late M. le Comte de Naquet’s—Madame la Marquise’s first +husband—handwriting. This, fortunately, he was able to do. They were a +few valueless notes penned at different times by the deceased gentleman and +which, luckily for us all, Madame had not thought it worth while to keep under +lock and key. +</p> + +<p> +I think I told you before, did I not? what a marvellous expert I am in every +kind of calligraphy, and soon I had a letter ready which was to represent the +first fire in the exciting war which we were about to wage against an obstinate +lady and a parsimonious usurer. +</p> + +<p> +My identity securely hidden under the disguise of a commissionnaire, I took +that letter to Mme. la Marquise de Firmin-Latour’s sumptuous abode in the Rue +de Grammont. +</p> + +<p> +M. le Marquis, you understand, had in the meanwhile been thoroughly primed in +the rôle which he was to play; as for Theodore, I thought it best for the +moment to dispense with his aid. +</p> + +<p> +The success of our first skirmish surpassed our expectations. +</p> + +<p> +Ten minutes after the letter had been taken upstairs to Mme. la Marquise, one +of the maids, on going past her mistress’s door, was startled to hear cries and +moans proceeding from Madame’s room. She entered and found Madame lying on the +sofa, her face buried in the cushions, and sobbing and screaming in a truly +terrifying manner. The maid applied the usual restoratives, and after a while +Madame became more calm and at once very curtly ordered the maid out of the +room. +</p> + +<p> +M. le Marquis, on being apprised of this mysterious happening, was much +distressed; he hurried to his wife’s apartments, and was as gentle and loving +with her as he had been in the early days of their honeymoon. But throughout +the whole of that evening, and, indeed, for the next two days, all the +explanation that he could get from Madame herself was that she had a headache +and that the letter which she had received that afternoon was of no consequence +and had nothing to do with her migraine. +</p> + +<p> +But clearly the beautiful Rachel was extraordinarily agitated. At night she did +not sleep, but would pace up and down her apartments in a state bordering on +frenzy, which of course caused M. le Marquis a great deal of anxiety and of +sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +Finally, on the Friday morning it seemed as if Madame could contain herself no +longer. She threw herself into her husband’s arms and blurted out the whole +truth. M. le Comte de Naquet, her first husband, who had been declared drowned +at sea, and therefore officially deceased by Royal decree, was not dead at all. +Madame had received a letter from him wherein he told her that he had indeed +suffered shipwreck, then untold misery on a desert island for three years, +until he had been rescued by a passing vessel, and finally been able, since he +was destitute, to work his way back to France and to Paris. Here he had lived +for the past few months as best he could, trying to collect together a little +money so as to render himself presentable before his wife, whom he had never +ceased to love. +</p> + +<p> +Inquiries discreetly conducted had revealed the terrible truth, that Madame had +been faithless to him, had light-heartedly assumed the death of her husband, +and had contracted what was nothing less than a bigamous marriage. Now he, M. +de Naquet, standing on his rights as Rachel Mosenstein’s only lawful husband, +demanded that she should return to him, and as a prelude to a permanent and +amicable understanding, she was to call at three o’clock precisely on the +following Friday at No. 96 Rue Daunou, where their reconciliation and reunion +was to take place. +</p> + +<p> +The letter announcing this terrible news and making this preposterous demand +she now placed in the hands of M. le Marquis, who at first was horrified and +thunderstruck, and appeared quite unable to deal with the situation or to +tender advice. For Madame it meant complete social ruin, of course, and she +herself declared that she would never survive such a scandal. Her tears and her +misery made the loving heart of M. le Marquis bleed in sympathy. He did all he +could to console and comfort the lady, whom, alas! he could no longer look upon +as his wife. Then, gradually, both he and she became more composed. It was +necessary above all things to make sure that Madame was not being victimized by +an impostor, and for this purpose M. le Marquis generously offered himself as a +disinterested friend and adviser. He offered to go himself to the Rue Daunou at +the hour appointed and to do his best to induce M. le Comte de Naquet—if +indeed he existed—to forgo his rights on the lady who had so innocently +taken on the name and hand of M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour. Somewhat more +calm, but still unconsoled, the beautiful Rachel accepted this generous offer. +I believe that she even found five thousand francs in her privy purse which was +to be offered to M. de Naquet in exchange for a promise never to worry Mme. la +Marquise again with his presence. But this I have never been able to ascertain +with any finality. Certain it is that when at three o’clock on that same +afternoon M. de Firmin-Latour presented himself at my office, he did not offer +me a share in any five thousand francs, though he spoke to me about the money, +adding that he thought it would look well if he were to give it back to Madame, +and to tell her that M. de Naquet had rejected so paltry a sum with disdain. +</p> + +<p> +I thought such a move unnecessary, and we argued about it rather warmly, and in +the end he went away, as I say, without offering me any share in the emolument. +Whether he did put his project into execution or not I never knew. He told me +that he did. After that there followed for me, Sir, many days, nay, weeks, of +anxiety and of strenuous work. Mme. la Marquise received several more letters +from the supposititious M. de Naquet, any one of which would have landed me, +Sir, in a vessel bound for New Caledonia. The discarded husband became more and +more insistent as time went on, and finally sent an ultimatum to Madame saying +that he was tired of perpetual interviews with M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour, +whose right to interfere in the matter he now wholly denied, and that he was +quite determined to claim his lawful wife before the whole world. +</p> + +<p> +Madame la Marquise, in the meanwhile, had passed from one fit of hysterics into +another. She denied her door to everyone and lived in the strictest seclusion +in her beautiful apartment of the Rue de Grammont. Fortunately this all +occurred in the early autumn, when the absence of such a society star from +fashionable gatherings was not as noticeable as it otherwise would have been. +But clearly we were working up for the climax, which occurred in the way I am +about to relate. +</p> + +<h3>4.</h3> + +<p> +Ah, my dear Sir, when after all these years I think of my adventure with that +abominable Marquis, righteous and noble indignation almost strikes me dumb. To +think that with my own hands and brains I literally put half a million into +that man’s pocket, and that he repaid me with the basest ingratitude, almost +makes me lose my faith in human nature. Theodore, of course, I could punish, +and did so adequately; and where my chastisement failed, Fate herself put the +finishing touch. +</p> + +<p> +But M. de Firmin-Latour . . .! +</p> + +<p> +However, you shall judge for yourself. +</p> + +<p> +As I told you, we now made ready for the climax; and that climax, Sir, I can +only describe as positively gorgeous. We began by presuming that Mme. la +Marquise had now grown tired of incessant demands for interviews and small +doles of money, and that she would be willing to offer a considerable sum to +her first and only lawful husband in exchange for a firm guarantee that he +would never trouble her again as long as she lived. +</p> + +<p> +We fixed the sum at half a million francs, and the guarantee was to take the +form of a deed duly executed by a notary of repute and signed by the +supposititious Comte de Naquet. A letter embodying the demand and offering the +guarantee was thereupon duly sent to Mme. la Marquise, and she, after the usual +attack of hysterics, duly confided the matter to M. de Firmin-Latour. +</p> + +<p> +The consultation between husband and wife on the deplorable subject was +touching in the extreme; and I will give that abominable Marquis credit for +playing his rôle in a masterly manner. At first he declared to his dear Rachel +that he did not know what to suggest, for in truth she had nothing like half a +million on which she could lay her hands. To speak of this awful pending +scandal to Papa Mosenstein was not to be thought of. He was capable of +repudiating the daughter altogether who was bringing such obloquy upon herself +and would henceforth be of no use to him as a society star. +</p> + +<p> +As for himself in this terrible emergency, he, of course, had less than +nothing, or his entire fortune would be placed—if he had one—at the +feet of his beloved Rachel. To think that he was on the point of losing her was +more than he could bear, and the idea that she would soon become the talk of +every gossip-monger in society, and mayhap be put in prison for bigamy, +wellnigh drove him crazy. +</p> + +<p> +What could be done in this awful perplexity he for one could not think, unless +indeed his dear Rachel were willing to part with some of her jewellery; but no! +he could not think of allowing her to make such a sacrifice. +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon Madame, like a drowning man, or rather woman, catching at a straw, +bethought her of her emeralds. They were historic gems, once the property of +the Empress Marie-Thérèse, and had been given to her on her second marriage by +her adoring father. No, no! she would never miss them; she seldom wore them, +for they were heavy and more valuable than elegant, and she was quite sure that +at the Mont de Piété they would lend her five hundred thousand francs on them. +Then gradually they could be redeemed before papa had become aware of their +temporary disappearance. Madame would save the money out of the liberal +allowance she received from him for pin-money. Anything, anything was +preferable to this awful doom which hung over her head. +</p> + +<p> +But even so M. le Marquis demurred. The thought of his proud and fashionable +Rachel going to the Mont de Piété to pawn her own jewels was not to be thought +of. She would be seen, recognized, and the scandal would be as bad and worse +than anything that loomed on the black horizon of her fate at this hour. +</p> + +<p> +What was to be done? What was to be done? +</p> + +<p> +Then M. le Marquis had a brilliant idea. He knew of a man, a very reliable, +trustworthy man, attorney-at-law by profession, and therefore a man of repute, +who was often obliged in the exercise of his profession to don various +disguises when tracking criminals in the outlying quarters of Paris. M. le +Marquis, putting all pride and dignity nobly aside in the interests of his +adored Rachel, would borrow one of these disguises and himself go to the Mont +de Piété with the emeralds, obtain the five hundred thousand francs, and remit +them to the man whom he hated most in all the world, in exchange for the +aforementioned guarantee. +</p> + +<p> +Madame la Marquise, overcome with gratitude, threw herself, in the midst of a +flood of tears, into the arms of the man whom she no longer dared to call her +husband, and so the matter was settled for the moment. M. le Marquis undertook +to have the deed of guarantee drafted by the same notary of repute whom he +knew, and, if Madame approved of it, the emeralds would then be converted into +money, and the interview with M. le Comte de Naquet fixed for Wednesday, +October 10th, at some convenient place, subsequently to be determined +on—in all probability at the bureau of that same ubiquitous +attorney-at-law, M. Hector Ratichon, at 96 Rue Daunon. +</p> + +<p> +All was going on excellently well, as you observe. I duly drafted the deed, and +M. de Firmin-Latour showed it to Madame for her approval. It was so simply and +so comprehensively worded that she expressed herself thoroughly satisfied with +it, whereupon M. le Marquis asked her to write to her shameful persecutor in +order to fix the date and hour for the exchange of the money against the deed +duly signed and witnessed. M. le Marquis had always been the intermediary for +her letters, you understand, and for the small sums of money which she had sent +from time to time to the factitious M. de Naquet; now he was to be entrusted +with the final negotiations which, though at a heavy cost, would bring security +and happiness once more in the sumptuous palace of the Rue de Grammont. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that the first little hitch occurred. Mme. la +Marquise—whether prompted thereto by a faint breath of suspicion, or +merely by natural curiosity—altered her mind about the appointment. She +decided that M. le Marquis, having pledged the emeralds, should bring the money +to her, and she herself would go to the bureau of M. Hector Ratichon in the Rue +Daunou, there to meet M. de Naquet, whom she had not seen for seven years, but +who had once been very dear to her, and herself fling in his face the five +hundred thousand francs, the price of his silence and of her peace of mind. +</p> + +<p> +At once, as you perceive, the situation became delicate. To have demurred, or +uttered more than a casual word of objection, would in the case of M. le +Marquis have been highly impolitic. He felt that at once, the moment he raised +his voice in protest: and when Madame declared herself determined he +immediately gave up arguing the point. +</p> + +<p> +The trouble was that we had so very little time wherein to formulate new plans. +Monsieur was to go the very next morning to the Mont de Piété to negotiate the +emeralds, and the interview with the fabulous M. de Naquet was to take place a +couple of hours later; and it was now three o’clock in the afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as M. de Firmin-Latour was able to leave his wife, he came round to my +office. He appeared completely at his wits’ end, not knowing what to do. +</p> + +<p> +“If my wife,” he said, “insists on a personal interview with de Naquet, who +does not exist, our entire scheme falls to the ground. Nay, worse! for I shall +be driven to concoct some impossible explanation for the non-appearance of that +worthy, and heaven only knows if I shall succeed in wholly allaying my wife’s +suspicions. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” he added with a sigh, “it is doubly hard to have seen fortune so near +one’s reach and then to see it dashed away at one fell swoop by the relentless +hand of Fate.” +</p> + +<p> +Not one word, you observe, of gratitude to me or of recognition of the subtle +mind that had planned and devised the whole scheme. +</p> + +<p> +But, Sir, it is at the hour of supreme crises like the present one that Hector +Ratichon’s genius soars up to the empyrean. It became great, Sir; nothing short +of great; and even the marvellous schemes of the Italian Macchiavelli paled +before the ingenuity which I now displayed. +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour’s reflection had sufficed. I had made my plans, and I had measured +the full length of the terrible risks which I ran. Among these New Caledonia +was the least. But I chose to take the risks, Sir; my genius could not stoop to +measuring the costs of its flight. While M. de Firmin-Latour alternately raved +and lamented I had already planned and contrived. As I say, we had very little +time: a few hours wherein to render ourselves worthy of Fortune’s smiles. And +this is what I planned. +</p> + +<p> +You tell me that you were not in Paris during the year 1816 of which I speak. +If you had been, you would surely recollect the sensation caused throughout the +entire city by the disappearance of M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour, one of the +most dashing young officers in society and one of its acknowledged leaders. It +was the 10th day of October. M. le Marquis had breakfasted in the company of +Madame at nine o’clock. A couple of hours later he went out, saying he would be +home for déjeuner. Madame clearly expected him, for his place was laid, and she +ordered the déjeuner to be kept back over an hour in anticipation of his +return. But he did not come. The afternoon wore on and he did not come. Madame +sat down at two o’clock to déjeuner alone. She told the major-domo that M. le +Marquis was detained in town and might not be home for some time. But the +major-domo declared that Madame’s voice, as she told him this, sounded tearful +and forced, and that she ate practically nothing, refusing one succulent dish +after another. +</p> + +<p> +The staff of servants was thus kept on tenterhooks all day, and when the +shadows of evening began to draw in, the theory was started in the kitchen that +M. le Marquis had either met with an accident or been foully murdered. No one, +however, dared speak of this to Madame la Marquise, who had locked herself up +in her room in the early part of the afternoon, and since then had refused to +see anyone. The major-domo was now at his wits’ end. He felt that in a measure +the responsibility of the household rested upon his shoulders. Indeed he would +have taken it upon himself to apprise M. Mauruss Mosenstein of the terrible +happenings, only that the worthy gentleman was absent from Paris just then. +</p> + +<p> +Mme. la Marquise remained shut up in her room until past eight o’clock. Then +she ordered dinner to be served and made pretence of sitting down to it; but +again the major-domo declared that she ate nothing, whilst subsequently the +confidential maid who had undressed her vowed that Madame had spent the whole +night walking up and down the room. +</p> + +<p> +Thus two agonizing days went by; agonizing they were to everybody. Madame la +Marquise became more and more agitated, more and more hysterical as time went +on, and the servants could not help but notice this, even though she made light +of the whole affair, and desperate efforts to control herself. The heads of her +household, the major-domo, the confidential maid, the chef de cuisine, did +venture to drop a hint or two as to the possibility of an accident or of foul +play, and the desirability of consulting the police; but Madame would not hear +a word of it; she became very angry at the suggestion, and declared that she +was perfectly well aware of M. le Marquis’s whereabouts, that he was well and +would return home almost immediately. +</p> + +<p> +As was only natural, tongues presently began to wag. Soon it was common talk in +Paris that M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour had disappeared from his home and +that Madame was trying to put a bold face upon the occurrence. There were +surmises and there was gossip— oh! interminable and long-winded gossip! +Minute circumstances in connexion with M. le Marquis’s private life and Mme. la +Marquise’s affairs were freely discussed in the cafés, the clubs and +restaurants, and as no one knew the facts of the case, surmises soon became +very wild. +</p> + +<p> +On the third day of M. le Marquis’s disappearance Papa Mosenstein returned to +Paris from Vichy, where he had just completed his annual cure. He arrived at +Rue de Grammont at three o’clock in the afternoon, demanded to see Mme. la +Marquise at once, and then remained closeted with her in her apartment for over +an hour. After which he sent for the inspector of police of the section, with +the result that that very same evening M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour was found +locked up in an humble apartment on the top floor of a house in the Rue Daunou, +not ten minutes’ walk from his own house. When the police—acting on +information supplied to them by M. Mauruss Mosenstein—forced their way +into that apartment, they were horrified to find M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour +there, tied hand and foot with cords to a chair, his likely calls for help +smothered by a woollen shawl wound loosely round the lower part of his face. +</p> + +<p> +He was half dead with inanition, and was conveyed speechless and helpless to +his home in the Rue de Grammont, there, presumably, to be nursed back to health +by Madame his wife. +</p> + +<h3>5.</h3> + +<p> +Now in all this matter, I ask you, Sir, who ran the greatest risk? Why, +I—Hector Ratichon, of course—Hector Ratichon, in whose apartment M. +de Firmin-Latour was discovered in a position bordering on absolute inanition. +And the proof of this is, that that selfsame night I was arrested at my +lodgings at Passy, and charged with robbery and attempted murder. +</p> + +<p> +It was a terrible predicament for a respectable citizen, a man of integrity and +reputation, in which to find himself; but Papa Mosenstein was both tenacious +and vindictive. His daughter, driven to desperation at last, and terrified that +M. le Marquis had indeed been foully murdered by M. de Naquet, had made a clean +breast of the whole affair to her father, and he in his turn had put the +minions of the law in full possession of all the facts; and since M. le Comte +de Naquet had vanished, leaving no manner of trace or clue of his person behind +him, the police, needing a victim, fell back on an innocent man. Fortunately, +Sir, that innocence clear as crystal soon shines through every calumny. But +this was not before I had suffered terrible indignities and all the tortures +which base ingratitude can inflict upon a sensitive heart. +</p> + +<p> +Such ingratitude as I am about to relate to you has never been equalled on this +earth, and even after all these years, Sir, you see me overcome with emotion at +the remembrance of it all. I was under arrest, remember, on a terribly serious +charge, but, conscious of mine own innocence and of my unanswerable system of +defence, I bore the preliminary examination by the juge d’instruction with +exemplary dignity and patience. I knew, you see, that at my very first +confrontation with my supposed victim the latter would at once say: +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! but no! This is not the man who assaulted me.” +</p> + +<p> +Our plan, which so far had been overwhelmingly successful, had been this. +</p> + +<p> +On the morning of the tenth, M. de Firmin-Latour having pawned the emeralds, +and obtained the money for them, was to deposit that money in his own name at +the bank of Raynal Frères and then at once go to the office in the Rue Daunou. +</p> + +<p> +There he would be met by Theodore, who would bind him comfortably but securely +to a chair, put a shawl around his mouth and finally lock the door on him. +Theodore would then go to his mother’s and there remain quietly until I needed +his services again. +</p> + +<p> +It had been thought inadvisable for me to be seen that morning anywhere in the +neighbourhood of the Rue Daunou, but that perfidious reptile Theodore ran no +risks in doing what he was told. To begin with he is a past master in the art +of worming himself in and out of a house without being seen, and in this case +it was his business to exercise a double measure of caution. And secondly, if +by some unlucky chance the police did subsequently connect him with the crime, +there was I, his employer, a man of integrity and repute, prepared to swear +that the man had been in my company at the other end of Paris all the while +that M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour was, by special arrangement, making use of +my office in the Rue Daunou, which I had lent him for purposes of business. +</p> + +<p> +Finally it was agreed between us that when M. le Marquis would presently be +questioned by the police as to the appearance of the man who had assaulted and +robbed him, he would describe him as tall and blond, almost like an Angliche in +countenance. Now I possess—as you see, Sir—all the finest +characteristics of the Latin race, whilst Theodore looks like nothing on earth, +save perhaps a cross between a rat and a monkey. +</p> + +<p> +I wish you to realize, therefore, that no one ran any risks in this affair +excepting myself. I, as the proprietor of the apartment where the assault was +actually supposed to have taken place, did run a very grave risk, because I +could never have proved an alibi. Theodore was such a disreputable mudlark that +his testimony on my behalf would have been valueless. But with sublime +sacrifice I accepted these risks, and you will presently see, Sir, how I was +repaid for my selflessness. I pined in a lonely prison-cell while these two +limbs of Satan concocted a plot to rob me of my share in our mutual +undertaking. +</p> + +<p> +Well, Sir, the day came when I was taken from my prison-cell for the purpose of +being confronted with the man whom I was accused of having assaulted. As you +will imagine, I was perfectly calm. According to our plan the confrontation +would be the means of setting me free at once. I was conveyed to the house in +the Rue de Grammont, and here I was kept waiting for some little time while the +juge d’instruction went in to prepare M. le Marquis, who was still far from +well. Then I was introduced into the sick-room. I looked about me with the +perfect composure of an innocent man about to be vindicated, and calmly gazed +on the face of the sick man who was sitting up in his magnificent bed, propped +up with pillows. +</p> + +<p> +I met his glance firmly whilst M. le Juge d’instruction placed the question to +him in a solemn and earnest tone: +</p> + +<p> +“M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour, will you look at the prisoner before you and +tell us whether you recognize in him the man who assaulted you?” +</p> + +<p> +And that perfidious Marquis, Sir, raised his eyes and looked me +squarely—yes! squarely—in the face and said with incredible +assurance: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Monsieur le Juge, that is the man! I recognize him.” +</p> + +<p> +To me it seemed then as if a thunderbolt had crashed through the ceiling and +exploded at my feet. I was like one stunned and dazed; the black ingratitude, +the abominable treachery, completely deprived me of speech. I felt choked, as +if some poisonous effluvia—the poison, Sir, of that man’s +infamy—had got into my throat. That state of inertia lasted, I believe, +less than a second; the next I had uttered a hoarse cry of noble indignation. +</p> + +<p> +“You vampire, you!” I exclaimed. “You viper! You . . .” +</p> + +<p> +I would have thrown myself on him and strangled him with glee, but that the +minions of the law had me by the arms and dragged me away out of the hateful +presence of that traitor, despite my objurgations and my protestations of +innocence. Imagine my feelings when I found myself once more in a prison-cell, +my heart filled with unspeakable bitterness against that perfidious Judas. Can +you wonder that it took me some time before I could collect my thoughts +sufficiently to review my situation, which no doubt to the villain himself who +had just played me this abominable trick must have seemed desperate indeed? Ah! +I could see it all, of course! He wanted to see me sent to New Caledonia, +whilst he enjoyed the fruits of his unpardonable backsliding. In order to +retain the miserable hundred thousand francs which he had promised me he did +not hesitate to plunge up to the neck in this heinous conspiracy. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, conspiracy! for the very next day, when I was once more hailed before the +juge d’instruction, another confrontation awaited me: this time with that +scurvy rogue Theodore. He had been suborned by M. le Marquis to turn against +the hand that fed him. What price he was paid for this Judas trick I shall +never know, and all that I do know is that he actually swore before the juge +d’instruction that M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour called at my office in the +late forenoon of the tenth of October; that I then ordered +him—Theodore—to go out to get his dinner first, and then to go all +the way over to Neuilly with a message to someone who turned out to be +non-existent. He went on to assert that when he returned at six o’clock in the +afternoon he found the office door locked, and I—his +employer—presumably gone. This at first greatly upset him, because he was +supposed to sleep on the premises, but seeing that there was nothing for it but +to accept the inevitable, he went round to his mother’s rooms at the back of +the fish-market and remained there ever since, waiting to hear from me. +</p> + +<p> +That, Sir, was the tissue of lies which that jailbird had concocted for my +undoing, knowing well that I could not disprove them because it had been my +task on that eventful morning to keep an eye on M. le Marquis whilst he went to +the Mont de Piété first, and then to MM. Raynal Frères, the bankers where he +deposited the money. For this purpose I had been obliged to don a disguise, +which I had not discarded till later in the day, and thus was unable to +disprove satisfactorily the monstrous lies told by that perjurer. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! I can see that sympathy for my unmerited misfortunes has filled your eyes +with tears. No doubt in your heart you feel that my situation at that hour was +indeed desperate, and that I—Hector Ratichon, the confidant of kings, the +benefactor of the oppressed—did spend the next few years of my life in a +penal settlement, where those arch-malefactors themselves should have been. But +no, Sir! Fate may be a fickle jade, rogues may appear triumphant, but not for +long, Sir, not for long! It is brains that conquer in the end . . . brains +backed by righteousness and by justice. +</p> + +<p> +Whether I had actually foreseen the treachery of those two rattlesnakes, or +whether my habitual caution and acumen alone prompted me to take those measures +of precaution of which I am about to tell you, I cannot truthfully remember. +Certain it is that I did take those precautions which ultimately proved to be +the means of compensating me for most that I had suffered. +</p> + +<p> +It had been a part of the original plan that, on the day immediately following +the tenth of October, I, in my own capacity as Hector Ratichon, who had been +absent from my office for twenty-four hours, would arrive there in the morning, +find the place locked, force an entrance into the apartment, and there find M. +le Marquis in his pitiable plight. After which I would, of course, immediately +notify the police of the mysterious occurrence. +</p> + +<p> +That had been the rôle which I had intended to play. M. le Marquis approved of +it and had professed himself quite willing to endure a twenty-four-hours’ +martyrdom for the sake of half a million francs. But, as I have just had the +honour to tell you, something which I will not attempt to explain prompted me +at the last moment to modify my plan in one little respect. I thought it too +soon to go back to the Rue Daunou within twenty-four hours of our +well-contrived coup, and I did not altogether care for the idea of going myself +to the police in order to explain to them that I had found a man gagged and +bound in my office. The less one has to do with these minions of the law the +better. Mind you, I had envisaged the possibility of being accused of assault +and robbery, but I did not wish to take, as it were, the very first steps +myself in that direction. You might call this a matter of sentiment or of +prudence, as you wish. +</p> + +<p> +So I waited until the evening of the second day before I got the key from +Theodore. Then before the concierge at 96 Rue Daunou had closed the +porte-cochere for the night, I slipped into the house unobserved, ran up the +stairs to my office and entered the apartment. I struck a light and made my way +to the inner room where the wretched Marquis hung in the chair like a bundle of +rags. I called to him, but he made no movement. As I had anticipated, he had +fainted for want of food. Of course, I was very sorry for him, for his plight +was pitiable, but he was playing for high stakes, and a little starvation does +no man any harm. In his case there was half a million at the end of his brief +martyrdom, which could, at worst, only last another twenty-four hours. I +reckoned that Mme. la Marquise could not keep the secret of her husband’s +possible whereabouts longer than that, and in any event I was determined that, +despite all risks, I would go myself to the police on the following day. +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile, since I was here and since M. le Marquis was unconscious, I +proceeded then and there to take the precaution which prudence had dictated, +and without which, seeing this man’s treachery and Theodore’s villainy, I +should undoubtedly have ended my days as a convict. What I did was to search M. +le Marquis’s pockets for anything that might subsequently prove useful to me. +</p> + +<p> +I had no definite idea in the matter, you understand; but I had vague notions +of finding the bankers’ receipt for the half-million francs. +</p> + +<p> +Well, I did not find that, but I did find the receipt from the Mont de Piété +for a parure of emeralds on which half a million francs had been lent. This I +carefully put away in my waistcoat pocket, but as there was nothing else I +wished to do just then I extinguished the light and made my way cautiously out +of the apartment and out of the house. No one had seen me enter or go out, and +M. le Marquis had not stirred while I went through his pockets. +</p> + +<h3>6.</h3> + +<p> +That, Sir, was the precaution which I had taken in order to safeguard myself +against the machinations of traitors. And see how right I was; see how hopeless +would have been my plight at this hour when Theodore, too, turned against me +like the veritable viper that he was. I never really knew when and under what +conditions the infamous bargain was struck which was intended to deprive me of +my honour and of my liberty, nor do I know what emolument Theodore was to +receive for his treachery. Presumably the two miscreants arranged it all some +time during that memorable morning of the tenth even whilst I was risking my +life in their service. +</p> + +<p> +As for M. de Firmin-Latour, that worker of iniquity who, in order to save a +paltry hundred thousand francs from the hoard which I had helped him to +acquire, did not hesitate to commit such an abominable crime, he did not long +remain in the enjoyment of his wealth or of his peace of mind. +</p> + +<p> +The very next day I made certain statements before M. le Juge d’instruction +with regard to M. Mauruss Mosenstein, which caused the former to summon the +worthy Israelite to his bureau, there to be confronted with me. I had nothing +more to lose, since those execrable rogues had already, as it were, tightened +the rope about my neck, but I had a great deal to gain—revenge above all, +and perhaps the gratitude of M. Mosenstein for opening his eyes to the +rascality of his son-in-law. +</p> + +<p> +In a stream of eloquent words which could not fail to carry conviction, I gave +then and there in the bureau of the juge d’instruction my version of the events +of the past few weeks, from the moment when M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour came +to consult me on the subject of his wife’s first husband, until the hour when +he tried to fasten an abominable crime upon me. I told how I had been deceived +by my own employé, Theodore, a man whom I had rescued out of the gutter and +loaded with gifts, how by dint of a clever disguise which would have deceived +his own mother he had assumed the appearance and personality of M. le Comte de +Naquet, first and only lawful lord of the beautiful Rachel Mosenstein. I told +of the interviews in my office, my earnest desire to put an end to this +abominable blackmailing by informing the police of the whole affair. I told of +the false M. de Naquet’s threats to create a gigantic scandal which would +forever ruin the social position of the so-called Marquis de Firmin-Latour. I +told of M. le Marquis’s agonized entreaties, his prayers, supplications, that I +would do nothing in the matter for the sake of an innocent lady who had already +grievously suffered. I spoke of my doubts, my scruples, my desire to do what +was just and what was right. +</p> + +<p> +A noble expose of the situation, Sir, you will admit. It left me hot and +breathless. I mopped my head with a handkerchief and sank back, gasping, in the +arms of the minions of the law. The juge d’instruction ordered my removal, not +back to my prison-cell but into his own ante-room, where I presently collapsed +upon a very uncomfortable bench and endured the additional humiliation of +having a glass of water held to my lips. Water! when I had asked for a drink of +wine as my throat felt parched after that lengthy effort at oratory. +</p> + +<p> +However, there I sat and waited patiently whilst, no doubt, M. le Juge +d’Instruction and the noble Israelite were comparing notes as to their +impression of my marvellous speech. I had not long to wait. Less than ten +minutes later I was once more summoned into the presence of M. le Juge; and +this time the minions of the law were ordered to remain in the antechamber. I +thought this was of good augury; and I waited to hear M. le Juge give forth the +order that would at once set me free. But it was M. Mosenstein who first +addressed me, and in very truth surprise rendered me momentarily dumb when he +did it thus: +</p> + +<p> +“Now then, you consummate rascal, when you have given up the receipt of the +Mont de Piété which you stole out of M. le Marquis’s pocket you may go and +carry on your rogueries elsewhere and call yourself mightily lucky to have +escaped so lightly.” +</p> + +<p> +I assure you, Sir, that a feather would have knocked me down. The coarse +insult, the wanton injustice, had deprived me of the use of my limbs and of my +speech. Then the juge d’instruction proceeded dryly: +</p> + +<p> +“Now then, Ratichon, you have heard what M. Mauruss Mosenstein has been good +enough to say to you. He did it with my approval and consent. I am prepared to +give an <i>ordonnance de non-lieu</i> in your favour which will have the effect +of at once setting you free if you will restore to this gentleman here the Mont +de Piété receipt which you appear to have stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” I said with consummate dignity in the face of this reiterated taunt, “I +have stolen nothing—” +</p> + +<p> +M. le Juge’s hand was already on the bell-pull. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” he said coolly, “I can ring for the gendarmes to take you back to the +cells, and you will stand your trial for blackmail, theft, assault and +robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +I put up my hand with an elegant and perfectly calm gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon, M. le Juge,” I said with the gentle resignation of undeserved +martyrdom, “I was about to say that when I re-visited my rooms in the Rue +Daunou after a three days’ absence, and found the police in possession, I +picked up on the floor of my private room a white paper which on subsequent +examination proved to be a receipt from the Mont de Piété for some valuable +gems, and made out in the name of M. le Marquis de Firmin-Latour.” +</p> + +<p> +“What have you done with it, you abominable knave?” the irascible old usurer +rejoined roughly, and I regret to say that he grasped his malacca cane with +ominous violence. +</p> + +<p> +But I was not to be thus easily intimidated. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! voilà, M. le Juge,” I said with a shrug of the shoulders. “I have mislaid +it. I do not know where it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you do not find it,” Mosenstein went on savagely, “you will find yourself +on a convict ship before long.” +</p> + +<p> +“In which case, no doubt,” I retorted with suave urbanity, “the police will +search my rooms where I lodge, and they will find the receipt from the Mont de +Piété, which I had mislaid. And then the gossip will be all over Paris that +Mme. la Marquise de Firmin-Latour had to pawn her jewels in order to satisfy +the exigencies of her first and only lawful husband who has since mysteriously +disappeared; and some people will vow that he never came back from the +Antipodes, whilst others—by far the most numerous—will shrug their +shoulders and sigh: ‘One never knows!’ which will be exceedingly unpleasant for +Mme. la Marquise.” +</p> + +<p> +Both M. Mauruss Mosenstein and the juge d’instruction said a great deal more +that afternoon. I may say that their attitude towards me and the language that +they used were positively scandalous. But I had become now the master of the +situation and I could afford to ignore their insults. In the end everything was +settled quite amicably. I agreed to dispose of the receipt from the Mont de +Piété to M. Mauruss Mosenstein for the sum of two hundred francs, and for +another hundred I would indicate to him the banking house where his precious +son-in-law had deposited the half-million francs obtained for the emeralds. +This latter information I would indeed have offered him gratuitously had he but +known with what immense pleasure I thus put a spoke in that knavish Marquis’s +wheel of fortune. +</p> + +<p> +The worthy Israelite further agreed to pay me an annuity of two hundred francs +so long as I kept silent upon the entire subject of Mme. la Marquise’s first +husband and of M. le Marquis’s rôle in the mysterious affair of the Rue Daunou. +For thus was the affair classed amongst the police records. No one outside the +chief actors of the drama and M. le Juge d’Instruction ever knew the true +history of how a dashing young cavalry officer came to be assaulted and left to +starve for three days in the humble apartment of an attorney-at-law of +undisputed repute. And no one outside the private bureau of M. le Juge +d’Instruction ever knew what it cost the wealthy M. Mosenstein to have the +whole affair “classed” and hushed up. +</p> + +<p> +As for me, I had three hundred francs as payment for work which I had risked my +neck and my reputation to accomplish. Three hundred instead of the hundred +thousand which I had so richly deserved: that, and a paltry two hundred francs +a year, which was to cease the moment that as much as a rumour of the whole +affair was breathed in public. As if I could help people talking! +</p> + +<p> +But M. le Marquis did not enjoy the fruits of his villainy, and I had again the +satisfaction of seeing him gnaw his finger-nails with rage whenever the lovely +Rachel paid for his dinner at fashionable restaurants. Indeed Papa Mosenstein +tightened the strings of his money-bags even more securely than he had done in +the past. Under threats of prosecution for theft and I know not what, he forced +his son-in-law to disgorge that half-million which he had so pleasantly tucked +away in the banking house of Raynal Frères, and I was indeed thankful that +prudence had, on that memorable morning, suggested to me the advisability of +dogging the Marquis’s footsteps. I doubt not but what he knew whence had come +the thunderbolt which had crushed his last hopes of an independent fortune, and +no doubt too he does not cherish feelings of good will towards me. +</p> + +<p> +But this eventuality leaves me cold. He has only himself to thank for his +misfortune. Everything would have gone well but for his treachery. We would +have become affluent, he and I and Theodore. Theodore has gone to live with his +mother, who has a fish-stall in the Halles; she gives him three sous a day for +washing down the stall and selling the fish when it has become too odorous for +the ordinary customers. +</p> + +<p> +And he might have had five hundred francs for himself and remained my +confidential clerk. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0004"></a> +CHAPTER IV. — CARISSIMO</h2> + +<h3>1.</h3> + +<p> +You must not think for a moment, my dear Sir, that I was ever actually deceived +in Theodore. Was it likely that I, who am by temperament and habit accustomed +to read human visages like a book, was it likely, I say, that I would fail to +see craftiness in those pale, shifty eyes, deceit in the weak, slobbering +mouth, intemperance in the whole aspect of the shrunken, slouchy figure which I +had, for my subsequent sorrow, so generously rescued from starvation? +</p> + +<p> +Generous? I was more than generous to him. They say that the poor are the +friends of the poor, and I told you how poor we were in those days! Ah! but +poor! my dear Sir, you have no conception! Meat in Paris in the autumn of 1816 +was 24 francs the kilo, and milk 1 franc the quarter litre, not to mention eggs +and butter, which were delicacies far beyond the reach of cultured, well-born +people like myself. +</p> + +<p> +And yet throughout that trying year I fed Theodore—yes, I fed him. He +used to share onion pie with me whenever I partook of it, and he had haricot +soup every day, into which I allowed him to boil the skins of all the sausages +and the luscious bones of all the cutlets of which I happened to partake. Then +think what he cost me in drink! Never could I leave a half or quarter bottle of +wine but he would finish it; his impudent fingers made light of every lock and +key. I dared not allow as much as a sou to rest in the pocket of my coat but he +would ferret it out the moment I hung the coat up in the outer room and my back +was turned for a few seconds. After a while I was forced—yes, I, Sir, who +have spoken on terms of equality with kings—I was forced to go out and +make my own purchases in the neighbouring provision shops. And why? Because if +I sent Theodore and gave him a few sous wherewith to make these purchases, he +would spend the money at the nearest cabaret in getting drunk on absinthe. +</p> + +<p> +He robbed me, Sir, shamefully, despite the fact that he had ten per cent, +commission on all the profits of the firm. I gave him twenty francs out of the +money which I had earned at the sweat of my brow in the service of Estelle +Bachelier. Twenty francs, Sir! Reckoning two hundred francs as business profit +on the affair, a generous provision you will admit! And yet he taunted me with +having received a thousand. This was mere guesswork, of course, and I took no +notice of his taunts: did the brains that conceived the business deserve no +payment? Was my labour to be counted as dross?—the humiliation, the blows +which I had to endure while he sat in hoggish content, eating and sleeping +without thought for the morrow? After which he calmly pocketed the twenty +francs to earn which he had not raised one finger, and then demanded more. +</p> + +<p> +No, no, my dear Sir, you will believe me or not, that man could not go +straight. Times out of count he would try and deceive me, despite the fact +that, once or twice, he very nearly came hopelessly to grief in the attempt. +</p> + +<p> +Now, just to give you an instance. About this time Paris was in the grip of a +gang of dog-thieves as unscrupulous and heartless as they were daring. Can you +wonder at it? with that awful penury about and a number of expensive “tou-tous” +running about the streets under the very noses of the indigent proletariat? The +ladies of the aristocracy and of the wealthy bourgeoisie had imbibed this craze +for lap-dogs during their sojourn in England at the time of the emigration, and +being women of the Latin race and of undisciplined temperament, they were just +then carrying their craze to excess. +</p> + +<p> +As I was saying, this indulgence led to wholesale thieving. Tou-tous were +abstracted from their adoring mistresses with marvellous adroitness; whereupon +two or three days would elapse while the adoring mistress wept buckets full of +tears and set the police of M. Fouché, Duc d’Otrante, by the ears in search of +her pet. The next act in the tragi-comedy would be an anonymous demand for +money—varying in amount in accordance with the known or supposed wealth +of the lady—and an equally anonymous threat of dire vengeance upon the +tou-tou if the police were put upon the track of the thieves. +</p> + +<p> +You will ask me, no doubt, what all this had to do with Theodore. Well! I will +tell you. +</p> + +<p> +You must know that of late he had become extraordinarily haughty and +independent. I could not keep him to his work. His duties were to sweep the +office—he did not do it; to light the fires—I had to light them +myself every morning; to remain in the anteroom and show clients in—he +was never at his post. In fact he was never there when I did want him: morning, +noon and night he was out—gadding about and coming home, Sir, only to eat +and sleep. I was seriously thinking of giving him the sack. And then one day he +disappeared! Yes, Sir, disappeared completely as if the earth had swallowed him +up. One morning—it was in the beginning of December and the cold was +biting—I arrived at the office and found that his chair-bed which stood +in the antechamber had not been slept in; in fact that it had not been made up +overnight. In the cupboard I found the remnants of an onion pie, half a +sausage, and a quarter of a litre of wine, which proved conclusively that he +had not been in to supper. +</p> + +<p> +At first I was not greatly disturbed in my mind. I had found out quite recently +that Theodore had some sort of a squalid home of his own somewhere behind the +fish-market, together with an old and wholly disreputable mother who plied him +with drink whenever he spent an evening with her and either he or she had a +franc in their pocket. Still, after these bouts spent in the bosom of his +family he usually returned to sleep them off at my expense in my office. +</p> + +<p> +I had unfortunately very little to do that day, so in the late afternoon, not +having seen anything of Theodore all day, I turned my steps toward the house +behind the fish-market where lived the mother of that ungrateful wretch. +</p> + +<p> +The woman’s surprise when I inquired after her precious son was undoubtedly +genuine. Her lamentations and crocodile tears certainly were not. She reeked of +alcohol, and the one room which she inhabited was indescribably filthy. I +offered her half a franc if she gave me authentic news of Theodore, knowing +well that for that sum she would have sold him to the devil. But very obviously +she knew nothing of his whereabouts, and I soon made haste to shake the dirt of +her abode from my heels. +</p> + +<p> +I had become vaguely anxious. +</p> + +<p> +I wondered if he had been murdered somewhere down a back street, and if I +should miss him very much. +</p> + +<p> +I did not think that I would. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, no one could have any object in murdering Theodore. In his own stupid +way he was harmless enough, and he certainly was not possessed of anything +worth stealing. I myself was not over-fond of the man—but I should not +have bothered to murder him. +</p> + +<p> +Still, I was undoubtedly anxious, and slept but little that night thinking of +the wretch. When the following morning I arrived at my office and still could +see no trace of him, I had serious thoughts of putting the law in motion on his +behalf. +</p> + +<p> +Just then, however, an incident occurred which drove all thoughts of such an +insignificant personage as Theodore from my mind. +</p> + +<p> +I had just finished tidying up the office when there came a peremptory ring at +the outer door, repeated at intervals of twenty seconds or so. It meant giving +a hasty glance all round to see that no fragments of onion pie or of cheap +claret lingered in unsuspected places, and it meant my going, myself, to open +the door to my impatient visitor. +</p> + +<p> +I did it, Sir, and then at the door I stood transfixed. I had seen many +beautiful women in my day—great ladies of the Court, brilliant ladies of +the Consulate, the Directorate and the Empire—but never in my life had I +seen such an exquisite and resplendent apparition as the one which now sailed +through the antechamber of my humble abode. +</p> + +<p> +Sir, Hector Ratichon’s heart has ever been susceptible to the charms of beauty +in distress. This lovely being, Sir, who now at my invitation entered my office +and sank with perfect grace into the arm-chair, was in obvious distress. Tears +hung on the fringe of her dark lashes, and the gossamer-like handkerchief which +she held in her dainty hand was nothing but a wet rag. She gave herself exactly +two minutes wherein to compose herself, after which she dried her eyes and +turned the full artillery of her bewitching glance upon me. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Ratichon,” she began, even before I had taken my accustomed place at +my desk and assumed that engaging smile which inspires confidence even in the +most timorous; “Monsieur Ratichon, they tell me that you are so clever, +and—oh! I am in such trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“Madame,” I rejoined with noble simplicity, “you may trust me to do the +impossible in order to be of service to you.” +</p> + +<p> +Admirably put, you will admit. I have always been counted a master of +appropriate diction, and I had been quick enough to note the plain band of gold +which encircled the third finger of her dainty left hand, flanked though it was +by a multiplicity of diamond, pearl and other jewelled rings. +</p> + +<p> +“You are kind, Monsieur Ratichon,” resumed the beauteous creature more calmly. +“But indeed you will require all the ingenuity of your resourceful brain in +order to help me in this matter. I am struggling in the grip of a relentless +fate which, if you do not help me, will leave me broken-hearted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Command me, Madame,” I riposted quietly. +</p> + +<p> +From out the daintiest of reticules the fair lady now extracted a very greasy +and very dirty bit of paper, and handed it to me with the brief request: “Read +this, I pray you, my good M. Ratichon.” I took the paper. It was a clumsily +worded, ill-written, ill-spelt demand for five thousand francs, failing which +sum the thing which Madame had lost would forthwith be destroyed. +</p> + +<p> +I looked up, puzzled, at my fair client. +</p> + +<p> +“My darling Carissimo, my dear M. Ratichon,” she said in reply to my mute +query. +</p> + +<p> +“Carissimo?” I stammered, yet further intrigued. +</p> + +<p> +“My darling pet, a valuable creature, the companion of my lonely hours,” she +rejoined, once more bursting into tears. “If I lose him, my heart will +inevitably break.” +</p> + +<p> +I understood at last. +</p> + +<p> +“Madame has lost her dog?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +She nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“It has been stolen by one of those expert dog thieves, who then levy blackmail +on the unfortunate owner?” +</p> + +<p> +Again she nodded in assent. +</p> + +<p> +I read the dirty, almost illegible scrawl through more carefully this time. It +was a clumsy notification addressed to Mme. la Comtesse de Nolé de St. Pris to +the effect that her tou-tou was for the moment safe, and would be restored to +the arms of his fond mistress provided the sum of five thousand francs was +deposited in the hands of the bearer of the missive. +</p> + +<p> +Minute directions were then given as to where and how the money was to be +deposited. Mme. la Comtesse de Nolé was, on the third day from this at six +o’clock in the evening precisely, to go in person and alone to the angle of the +Rue Guénégaud and the Rue Mazarine, at the rear of the Institut. +</p> + +<p> +There two men would meet her, one of whom would have Carissimo in his arms; to +the other she must hand over the money, whereupon the pet would at once be +handed back to her. But if she failed to keep this appointment, or if in the +meanwhile she made the slightest attempt to trace the writer of the missive or +to lay a trap for his capture by the police, Carissimo would at once meet with +a summary death. +</p> + +<p> +These were the usual tactics of experienced dog thieves, only that in this case +the demand was certainly exorbitant. Five thousand francs! But even so . . . I +cast a rapid and comprehensive glance on the brilliant apparition before +me—the jewelled rings, the diamonds in the shell-like ears, the priceless +fur coat—and with an expressive shrug of the shoulders I handed the dirty +scrap of paper back to its fair recipient. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas, Madame,” I said, taking care that she should not guess how much it cost +me to give her such advice, “I am afraid that in such cases there is nothing to +be done. If you wish to save your pet you will have to pay. . .” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! but, Monsieur,” she exclaimed tearfully, “you don’t understand. Carissimo +is all the world to me, and this is not the first time, nor yet the second, +that he has been stolen from me. Three times, my good M. Ratichon, three times +has he been stolen, and three times have I received such peremptory demands for +money for his safe return; and every time the demand has been more and more +exorbitant. Less than a month ago M. le Comte paid three thousand francs for +his recovery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur le Comte?” I queried. +</p> + +<p> +“My husband, Sir,” she replied, with an exquisite air of hauteur. “M. le Comte +de Nolé de St. Pris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, then,” I continued calmly, “I fear me that Monsieur de Nolé de St. Pris +will have to pay again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he won’t!” she now cried out in a voice broken with sobs, and +incontinently once more saturated her gossamer handkerchief with her tears. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I see nothing for it, Madame,” I rejoined, much against my will with a +slight touch of impatience, “I see nothing for it but that yourself . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! but, Monsieur,” she retorted, with a sigh that would have melted a heart +of stone, “that is just my difficulty. I cannot pay . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“Madame,” I protested. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! if I had money of my own,” she continued, with an adorable gesture of +impatience, “I would not worry. Mais voilà: I have not a silver franc of my own +to bless myself with. M. le Comte is over generous. He pays all my bills +without a murmur—he pays my dressmaker, my furrier; he loads me with +gifts and dispenses charity on a lavish scale in my name. I have horses, +carriages, servants—everything I can possibly want and more, but I never +have more than a few hundred francs to dispose of. Up to now I have never for a +moment felt the want of money. To-day, when Carissimo is being lost to me, I +feel the entire horror of my position.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely, Madame,” I urged, “M. le Comte . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Monsieur,” she replied. “M. le Comte has flatly refused this time to pay +these abominable thieves for the recovery of Carissimo. He upbraids himself for +having yielded to their demands on the three previous occasions. He calls these +demands blackmailing, and vows that to give them money again is to encourage +them in their nefarious practices. Oh! he has been cruel to me, +cruel!—for the first time in my life, Monsieur, my husband has made me +unhappy, and if I lose my darling now I shall indeed be broken-hearted.” +</p> + +<p> +I was silent for a moment or two. I was beginning to wonder what part I should +be expected to play in the tragedy which was being unfolded before me by this +lovely and impecunious creature. +</p> + +<p> +“Madame la Comtesse,” I suggested tentatively, after a while, “your jewellery . +. . you must have a vast number which you seldom wear . . . five thousand +francs is soon made up. . . .” +</p> + +<p> +You see, Sir, my hopes of a really good remunerative business had by now +dwindled down to vanishing point. All that was left of them was a vague idea +that the beautiful Comtesse would perhaps employ me as an intermediary for the +sale of some of her jewellery, in which case . . . But already her next words +disillusioned me even on that point. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Monsieur,” she said; “what would be the use? Through one of the usual +perverse tricks of fate, M. le Comte would be sure to inquire after the very +piece of jewellery of which I had so disposed, and moreover . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover—yes, Mme. la Comtesse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover, my husband is right,” she concluded decisively. “If I give in to +those thieves to-day and pay them five thousand francs, they would only set to +work to steal Carissimo again and demand ten thousand francs from me another +time.” +</p> + +<p> +I was silent. What could I say? Her argument was indeed unanswerable. +</p> + +<p> +“No, my good M. Ratichon,” she said very determinedly after a while. “I have +quite decided that you must confound those thieves. They have given me three +days’ grace, as you see in their abominable letter. If after three days the +money is not forthcoming, and if in the meanwhile I dare to set a trap for them +or in any way communicate with the police, my darling Carissimo will be killed +and my heart be broken.” +</p> + +<p> +“Madame la Comtesse,” I entreated, for of a truth I could not bear to see her +cry again. +</p> + +<p> +“You must bring Carissimo back to me, M. Ratichon,” she continued peremptorily, +“before those awful three days have elapsed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I swear that I will,” I rejoined solemnly; but I must admit that I did it +entirely on the spur of the moment, for of a truth I saw no prospect whatever +of being able to accomplish what she desired. +</p> + +<p> +“Without my paying a single louis to those execrable thieves,” the exquisite +creature went on peremptorily, +</p> + +<p> +“It shall be done, Madame la Comtesse.” +</p> + +<p> +“And let me tell you,” she now added, with the sweetest and archest of smiles, +“that if you succeed in this, M. le Comte de Nolé de St. Pris will gladly pay +you the five thousand francs which he refuses to give to those miscreants.” +</p> + +<p> +Five thousand francs! A mist swam before my eyes, +</p> + +<p> +“Mais, Madame la Comtesse . . .” I stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she added, with an adorable uptilting of her little chin, “I am not +promising what I cannot fulfil. M. le Comte de Nolé only said this morning, +apropos of dog thieves, that he would gladly give ten thousand francs to anyone +who succeeded in ridding society of such pests.” +</p> + +<p> +I could have knelt down on the hard floor, Sir, and . . . +</p> + +<p> +“Well then, Madame,” was my ready rejoinder, “why not ten thousand francs to +me?” +</p> + +<p> +She bit her coral lips . . . but she also smiled. I could see that my +personality and my manners had greatly impressed her. +</p> + +<p> +“I will only be responsible for the first five thousand,” she said lightly. +“But, for the rest, I can confidently assure you that you will not find a miser +in M. le Comte de Nolé de St. Pris.” +</p> + +<p> +I could have knelt down on the hard floor, Sir, and kissed her exquisitely shod +feet. Five thousand francs certain! Perhaps ten! A fortune, Sir, in those days! +One that would keep me in comfort—nay, affluence, until something else +turned up. I was swimming in the empyrean and only came rudely to earth when I +recollected that I should have to give Theodore something for his share of the +business. Ah! fortunately that for the moment he was comfortably out of the +way! Thoughts that perhaps he had been murdered after all once more coursed +through my brain: not unpleasantly, I’ll admit. I would not have raised a +finger to hurt the fellow, even though he had treated me with the basest +ingratitude and treachery; but if someone else took the trouble to remove him, +why indeed should I quarrel with fate? +</p> + +<p> +Back I came swiftly to the happy present. The lovely creature was showing me a +beautifully painted miniature of Carissimo, a King Charles spaniel of no common +type. This she suggested that I should keep by me for the present for purposes +of identification. After this we had to go into the details of the +circumstances under which she had lost her pet. She had been for a walk with +him, it seems, along the Quai Voltaire, and was returning home by the side of +the river, when suddenly a number of workmen in blouses and peaked caps came +trooping out of a side street and obstructed her progress. She had Carissimo on +the lead, and she at once admitted to me that at first she never thought of +connecting this pushing and jostling rabble with any possible theft. She held +her ground for awhile, facing the crowd: for a few moments she was right in the +midst of it, and just then she felt the dog straining at the lead. She turned +round at once with the intention of picking him up, when to her horror she saw +that there was only a bundle of something weighty at the end of the lead, and +that the dog had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +The whole incident occurred, the lovely creature declared, within the space of +thirty seconds; the next instant the crowd had scattered in several directions, +the men running and laughing as they went. Mme. la Comtesse was left standing +alone on the quay. Not a passer-by in sight, and the only gendarme visible, a +long way down the Quai, had his back turned toward her. Nevertheless she ran +and hied him, and presently he turned and, realizing that something was amiss, +he too ran to meet her. He listened to her story, swore lustily, but shrugged +his shoulders in token that the tale did not surprise him and that but little +could be done. Nevertheless he at once summoned those of his colleagues who +were on duty in the neighbourhood, and one of them went off immediately to +notify the theft at the nearest commissariat of police. After which they all +proceeded to a comprehensive scouring of the many tortuous sidestreets of the +quartier; but, needless to say, there was no sign of Carissimo or of his +abductors. +</p> + +<p> +That night my lovely client went home distracted. +</p> + +<p> +The following evening, when, broken-hearted, she wandered down the quays living +over again the agonizing moments during which she lost her pet, a workman in a +blue blouse, with a peaked cap pulled well over his eyes, lurched up against +her and thrust into her hand the missive which she had just shown me. He then +disappeared into the night, and she had only the vaguest possible recollection +of his appearance. +</p> + +<p> +That, Sir, was the substance of the story which the lovely creature told me in +a voice oft choked with tears. I questioned her very closely and in my most +impressive professional manner as to the identity of any one man among the +crowd who might have attracted her attention, but all that she could tell me +was that she had a vague impression of a wizened hunchback with evil face, +shaggy red beard and hair, and a black patch covering the left eye. +</p> + +<h3>2.</h3> + +<p> +Not much data to go on, you will, I think, admit, and I can assure you, Sir, +that had I not possessed that unbounded belief in myself which is the true +hall-mark of genius, I would at the outset have felt profoundly discouraged. +</p> + +<p> +As it was, I found just the right words of consolation and of hope wherewith to +bow my brilliant client out of my humble apartments, and then to settle down to +deep and considered meditation. Nothing, Sir, is so conducive to thought as a +long, brisk walk through the crowded streets of Paris. So I brushed my coat, +put on my hat at a becoming angle, and started on my way. +</p> + +<p> +I walked as far as Suresnes, and I thought. After that, feeling fatigued, I sat +on the terrace of the Café Bourbon, overlooking the river. There I sipped my +coffee and thought. I walked back into Paris in the evening, and still thought, +and thought, and thought. After that I had some dinner, washed down by an +agreeable bottle of wine—did I mention that the lovely creature had given +me a hundred francs on account?—then I went for a stroll along the Quai +Voltaire, and I may safely say that there is not a single side and tortuous +street in its vicinity that I did not explore from end to end during the course +of that never to be forgotten evening. +</p> + +<p> +But still my mind remained in a chaotic condition. I had not succeeded in +forming any plan. What a quandary, Sir! Oh! what a quandary! Here was I, Hector +Ratichon, the confidant of kings, the right hand of two emperors, set to the +task of stealing a dog—for that is what I should have to do—from an +unscrupulous gang of thieves whose identity, abode and methods were alike +unknown to me. Truly, Sir, you will own that this was a herculean task. +</p> + +<p> +Vaguely my thoughts reverted to Theodore. He might have been of good counsel, +for he knew more about thieves than I did, but the ungrateful wretch was out of +the way on the one occasion when he might have been of use to me who had done +so much for him. Indeed, my reason told me that I need not trouble my head +about Theodore. He had vanished; that he would come back presently was, of +course, an indubitable fact; people like Theodore never vanish completely. He +would come back and demand I know not what, his share, perhaps, in a business +which was so promising even if it was still so vague. +</p> + +<p> +Five thousand francs! A round sum! If I gave Theodore five hundred the sum +would at once appear meagre, unimportant. Four thousand five hundred +francs!—it did not even <i>sound</i> well to my mind. +</p> + +<p> +So I took care that Theodore vanished from my mental vision as completely as he +had done for the last two days from my ken, and as there was nothing more that +could be done that evening, I turned my weary footsteps toward my lodgings at +Passy. +</p> + +<p> +All that night, Sir, I lay wakeful and tossing in my bed, alternately fuming +and rejecting plans for the attainment of that golden goal—the recovery +of Mme. de Nolé’s pet dog. And the whole of the next day I spent in vain quest. +I visited every haunt of ill-fame known to me within the city. I walked about +with a pistol in my belt, a hunk of bread and cheese in my pocket, and slowly +growing despair in my heart. +</p> + +<p> +In the evening Mme. la Comtesse de Nolé called for news of Carissimo, and I +could give her none. She cried, Sir, and implored, and her tears and entreaties +got on to my nerves until I felt ready to fall into hysterics. One more day and +all my chances of a bright and wealthy future would have vanished. Unless the +money was forthcoming on the morrow, the dog would be destroyed, and with him +my every hope of that five thousand francs. And though she still irradiated +charm and luxury from her entire lovely person, I begged her not to come to the +office again, and promised that as soon as I had any news to impart I would at +once present myself at her house in the Faubourg St. Germain. +</p> + +<p> +That night I never slept one wink. Think of it, Sir! The next few hours were +destined to see me either a prosperous man for many days to come, or a +miserable, helpless, disappointed wretch. At eight o’clock I was at my office. +Still no news of Theodore. I could now no longer dismiss him from my mind. +Something had happened to him, I could have no doubt. This anxiety, added to +the other more serious one, drove me to a state bordering on frenzy. I hardly +knew what I was doing. I wandered all day up and down the Quai Voltaire, and +the Quai des Grands Augustins, and in and around the tortuous streets till I +was dog-tired, distracted, half crazy. +</p> + +<p> +I went to the Morgue, thinking to find there Theodore’s dead body, and found +myself vaguely looking for the mutilated corpse of Carissimo. Indeed, after a +while Theodore and Carissimo became so inextricably mixed up in my mind that I +could not have told you if I was seeking for the one or for the other and if +Mme. la Comtesse de Nolé was now waiting to clasp her pet dog or my +man-of-all-work to her exquisite bosom. +</p> + +<p> +She in the meanwhile had received a second, yet more peremptory, missive +through the same channel as the previous one. A grimy deformed man, with +ginger-coloured hair, and wearing a black patch over one eye, had been seen by +one of the servants lolling down the street where Madame lived, and +subsequently the concierge discovered that an exceedingly dirty scrap of paper +had been thrust under the door of his lodge. The writer of the epistle demanded +that Mme. la Comtesse should stand in person at six o’clock that same evening +at the corner of the Rue Guénégaud, behind the Institut de France. Two men, +each wearing a blue blouse and peaked cap, would meet her there. She must hand +over the money to one of them, whilst the other would have Carissimo in his +arms. The missive closed with the usual threats that if the police were mixed +up in the affair, or the money not forthcoming, Carissimo would be destroyed. +</p> + +<p> +Six o’clock was the hour fixed by these abominable thieves for the final doom +of Carissimo. It was now close on five. In a little more than an hour my last +hope of five or ten thousand francs and a smile of gratitude from a pair of +lovely lips would have gone, never again to return. A great access of righteous +rage seized upon me. I determined that those miserable thieves, whoever they +were, should suffer for the disappointment which I was now enduring. If I was +to lose five thousand francs, they at least should not be left free to pursue +their evil ways. I would communicate with the police; the police should meet +the miscreants at the corner of the Rue Guénégaud. Carissimo would die; his +lovely mistress would be brokenhearted. I would be left to mourn yet another +illusion of a possible fortune, but they would suffer in gaol or in New +Caledonia the consequences of all their misdeeds. +</p> + +<p> +Fortified by this resolution, I turned my weary footsteps in the direction of +the gendarmerie where I intended to lodge my denunciation of those abominable +thieves and blackmailers. The night was dark, the streets ill-lighted, the air +bitterly cold. A thin drizzle, half rain, half snow, was descending, chilling +me to the bone. +</p> + +<p> +I was walking rapidly along the river bank with my coat collar pulled up to my +ears, and still instinctively peering up every narrow street which debouches on +the quay. Then suddenly I spied Theodore. He was coming down the Rue Beaune, +slouching along with head bent in his usual way. He appeared to be carrying +something, not exactly heavy, but cumbersome, under his left arm. Within the +next few minutes he would have been face to face with me, for I had come to a +halt at the angle of the street, determined to have it out with the rascal then +and there in spite of the cold and in spite of my anxiety about Carissimo. +</p> + +<p> +All of a sudden he raised his head and saw me, and in a second he turned on his +heel and began to run up the street in the direction whence he had come. At +once I gave chase. I ran after him—and then, Sir, he came for a second +within the circle of light projected by a street lanthorn. But in that one +second I had seen that which turned my frozen blood into liquid lava—a +tail, Sir!—a dog’s tail, fluffy and curly, projecting from beneath that +recreant’s left arm. +</p> + +<p> +A dog, Sir! a dog! Carissimo! the darling of Mme. la Comtesse de Nolé’s heart! +Carissimo, the recovery of whom would mean five thousand francs into my pocket! +Carissimo! I knew it! For me there existed but one dog in all the world; one +dog and one spawn of the devil, one arch-traitor, one limb of Satan! Theodore! +</p> + +<p> +How he had come by Carissimo I had not time to conjecture. I called to him. +I called his accursed name, using appellations which fell far short of those +which he deserved. But the louder I called the faster he ran, and I, +breathless, panting, ran after him, determined to run him to earth, fearful +lest I should lose him in the darkness of the night. All down the Rue Beaune we +ran, and already I could hear behind me the heavy and more leisured tramp of a +couple of gendarmes who in their turn had started to give chase. +</p> + +<p> +I tell you, Sir, the sound lent wings to my feet. A chance—a last +chance—was being offered me by a benevolent Fate to earn that five +thousand francs, the keystone to my future fortune. If I had the strength to +seize and hold Theodore until the gendarmes came up, and before he had time to +do away with the dog, the five thousand francs could still be mine. +</p> + +<p> +So I ran, Sir, as I had never run before; the beads of perspiration poured down +from my forehead; the breath came stertorous and hot from my heaving breast. +</p> + +<p> +Then suddenly Theodore disappeared! +</p> + +<p> +Disappeared, Sir, as if the earth had swallowed him up! A second ago I had seen +him dimly, yet distinctly through the veil of snow and rain ahead of me, +running with that unmistakable shuffling gait of his, hugging the dog closely +under his arm. I had seen him—another effort and I might have touched +him!—now the long and deserted street lay dark and mysterious before me, +and behind me I could hear the measured tramp of the gendarmes and their +peremptory call of “Halt, in the name of the King!” +</p> + +<p> +But not in vain, Sir, am I called Hector Ratichon; not in vain have kings and +emperors reposed confidence in my valour and my presence of mind. In less time +than it takes to relate I had already marked with my eye the very +spot—down the street—where I had last seen Theodore. I hurried +forward and saw at once that my surmise had been correct. At that very spot, +Sir, there was a low doorway which gave on a dark and dank passage. The door +itself was open. I did not hesitate. My life stood in the balance but I did not +falter. I might be affronting within the next second or two a gang of desperate +thieves, but I did not quake. +</p> + +<p> +I turned into that doorway, Sir; the next moment I felt a stunning blow between +my eyes. I just remember calling out with all the strength of my lungs: +“Police! Gendarmes! A moi!” Then nothing more. +</p> + +<h3>3.</h3> + +<p> +I woke with the consciousness of violent wordy warfare carried on around me. I +was lying on the ground, and the first things I saw were three or four pairs of +feet standing close together. Gradually out of the confused hubbub a few +sentences struck my reawakened senses. +</p> + +<p> +“The man is drunk.” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t have him inside the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you this is a respectable house.” This from a shrill feminine voice. +“We’ve never had the law inside our doors before.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time I had succeeded in raising myself on my elbow, and, by the dim +light of a hanging lamp somewhere down the passage, I was pretty well able to +take stock of my surroundings. +</p> + +<p> +The half-dozen bedroom candlesticks on a table up against the wall, the row of +keys hanging on hooks fixed to a board above, the glass partition with the +words “Concierge” and “Réception” painted across it, all told me that this was +one of those small, mostly squalid and disreputable lodging houses or hotels in +which this quarter of Paris still abounds. +</p> + +<p> +The two gendarmes who had been running after me were arguing the matter of my +presence here with the proprietor of the place and with the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +I struggled to my feet. Whereupon for the space of a solid two minutes I had to +bear as calmly as I could the abuse and vituperation which the feminine +proprietor of this “respectable house” chose to hurl at my unfortunate head. +After which I obtained a hearing from the bewildered minions of the law. To +them I gave as brief and succinct a narrative as I could of the events of the +past three days. The theft of Carissimo—the disappearance of +Theodore—my meeting him a while ago, with the dog under his arm—his +second disappearance, this time within the doorway of this “respectable abode,” +and finally the blow which alone had prevented me from running the abominable +thief to earth. +</p> + +<p> +The gendarmes at first were incredulous. I could see that they were still under +the belief that my excitement was due to over-indulgence in alcoholic liquor, +whilst Madame the proprietress called me an abominable liar for daring to +suggest that she harboured thieves within her doors. Then suddenly, as if in +vindication of my character, there came from a floor above the sound of a loud, +shrill bark. +</p> + +<p> +“Carissimo!” I cried triumphantly. Then I added in a rapid whisper, “Mme. la +Comtesse de Nolé is rich. She spoke of a big reward for the recovery of her +pet.” +</p> + +<p> +These happy words had the effect of stimulating the zeal of the gendarmes. +Madame the proprietress grew somewhat confused and incoherent, and finally +blurted it out that one of her lodgers—a highly respectable +gentleman—did keep a dog, but that there was no crime in that surely. +</p> + +<p> +“One of your lodgers?” queried the representative of the law. “When did he +come?” +</p> + +<p> +“About three days ago,” she replied sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +“What room does he occupy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Number twenty-five on the third floor.” +</p> + +<p> +“He came with his dog?” I interposed quickly, “a spaniel?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And your lodger, is he an ugly, slouchy creature—with hooked nose, +bleary eyes and shaggy yellow hair?” +</p> + +<p> +But to this she vouchsafed no reply. +</p> + +<p> +Already the matter had passed out of my hands. One of the gendarmes prepared to +go upstairs and bade me follow him, whilst he ordered his comrade to remain +below and on no account to allow anyone to enter or leave the house. The +proprietress and concierge were warned that if they interfered with the due +execution of the law they would be severely dealt with; after which we went +upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +For a while, as we ascended, we could hear the dog barking furiously, then, +presently, just as we reached the upper landing, we heard a loud curse, a +scramble, and then a piteous whine quickly smothered. +</p> + +<p> +My very heart stood still. The next moment, however, the gendarme had kicked +open the door of No. 25, and I followed him into the room. The place looked +dirty and squalid in the extreme—just the sort of place I should have +expected Theodore to haunt. It was almost bare save for a table in the centre, +a couple of rickety chairs, a broken-down bedstead and an iron stove in the +corner. On the table a tallow candle was spluttering and throwing a very feeble +circle of light around. +</p> + +<p> +At first glance I thought that the room was empty, then suddenly I heard +another violent expletive and became aware of a man sitting close beside the +iron stove. He turned to stare at us as we entered, but to my surprise it was +not Theodore’s ugly face which confronted us. The man sitting there alone in +the room where I had expected to see Theodore and Carissimo had a shaggy beard +of an undoubted ginger hue. He had on a blue blouse and a peaked cap; beneath +his cap his lank hair protruded more decided in colour even than his beard. His +head was sunk between his shoulders, and right across his face, from the left +eyebrow over the cheek and as far as his ear, he had a hideous crimson scar, +which told up vividly against the ghastly pallor of his face. +</p> + +<p> +But there was no sign of Theodore! +</p> + +<p> +At first my friend the gendarme was quite urbane. He asked very politely to see +Monsieur’s pet dog. Monsieur denied all knowledge of a dog, which denial only +tended to establish his own guilt and the veracity of mine own narrative. The +gendarme thereupon became more peremptory and the man promptly lost his temper. +</p> + +<p> +I, in the meanwhile, was glancing round the room and soon spied a wall cupboard +which had obviously been deliberately screened by the bedstead. While my +companion was bringing the whole majesty of the law to bear upon the +miscreant’s denegations I calmly dragged the bedstead aside and opened the +cupboard door. +</p> + +<p> +An ejaculation from my quivering throat brought the gendarme to my side. +Crouching in the dark recess of the wall cupboard was Carissimo—not dead, +thank goodness! but literally shaking with terror. I pulled him out as gently +as I could, for he was so frightened that he growled and snapped viciously at +me. I handed him to the gendarme, for by the side of Carissimo I had seen +something which literally froze my blood within my veins. It was Theodore’s hat +and coat, which he had been wearing when I chased him to this house of mystery +and of ill-fame, and wrapped together with it was a rag all smeared with blood, +whilst the same hideous stains were now distinctly visible on the door of the +cupboard itself. +</p> + +<p> +I turned to the gendarme, who at once confronted the abominable malefactor with +the obvious proofs of a horrible crime. But the depraved wretch stood by, Sir, +perfectly calm and with a cynicism in his whole bearing which I had never +before seen equalled! +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing about that coat,” he asserted with a shrug of the shoulders, +“nor about the dog.” +</p> + +<p> +The gendarme by this time was purple with fury. +</p> + +<p> +“Not know anything about the dog?” he exclaimed in a voice choked with +righteous indignation. “Why, he . . . he barked!” +</p> + +<p> +But this indisputable fact in no way disconcerted the miscreant. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard a dog yapping,” he said with consummate impudence, “but I thought he +was in the next room. No wonder,” he added coolly, “since he was in a wall +cupboard.” +</p> + +<p> +“A wall cupboard,” the gendarme rejoined triumphantly, “situated in the very +room which you occupy at this moment.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a mistake, my friend,” the cynical wretch retorted, undaunted. “I do +not occupy this room. I do not lodge in this hotel at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then how came you to be here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I came on a visit to a friend who happened to be out when I arrived. I found a +pleasant fire here, and I sat down to warm myself. Your noisy and unwarranted +irruption into this room has so bewildered me that I no longer know whether I +am standing on my head or on my heels.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll show you soon enough what you are standing on, my fine fellow,” the +gendarme riposted with breezy, cheerfulness. “Allons!” +</p> + +<p> +I must say that the pampered minion of the law arose splendidly to the +occasion. He seized the miscreant by the arm and took him downstairs, there to +confront him with the proprietress of the establishment, while I—with +marvellous presence of mind—took possession of Carissimo and hid him as +best I could beneath my coat. +</p> + +<p> +In the hall below a surprise and a disappointment were in store for me. I had +reached the bottom of the stairs when the shrill feminine accents of Mme. the +proprietress struck unpleasantly on my ear. +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! I tell you!” she was saying. “This man is not my lodger. He never came +here with a dog. There,” she added volubly, and pointing an unwashed finger at +Carissimo who was struggling and growling in my arms, “there is the dog. A +gentleman brought him with him last Wednesday, when he inquired if he could +have a room here for a few nights. Number twenty-five happened to be vacant, +and I have no objection to dogs. I let the gentleman have the room, and he paid +me twenty sous in advance when he took possession and told me he would keep the +room three nights.” +</p> + +<p> +“The gentleman? What gentleman?” the gendarme queried, rather inanely I +thought. +</p> + +<p> +“My lodger,” the woman replied. “He is out for the moment, but he will be back +presently I make no doubt. The dog is his. . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“What is he like?” the minion of the law queried abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Who? the dog?” she retorted impudently. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no! Your lodger.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more the unwashed finger went up and pointed straight at me. +</p> + +<p> +“He described him well enough just now; thin and slouchy in his ways. He has +lank, yellow hair, a nose perpetually crimson—with the cold no +doubt—and pale, watery eyes. . . .” +</p> + +<p> +“Theodore,” I exclaimed mentally. +</p> + +<p> +Bewildered, the gendarme pointed to his prisoner. +</p> + +<p> +“But this man . . . ?” he queried. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” the proprietress replied. “I have seen Monsieur twice, or was it three +times? He would visit number twenty-five now and then.” +</p> + +<p> +I will not weary you with further accounts of the close examination to which +the representative of the law subjected the personnel of the squalid hotel. The +concierge and the man of all work did indeed confirm what the proprietress +said, and whilst my friend the gendarme —puzzled and +floundering—was scratching his head in complete bewilderment, I thought +that the opportunity had come for me to slip quietly out by the still open door +and make my way as fast as I could to the sumptuous abode in the Faubourg St. +Germain, where the gratitude of Mme. de Nolé, together with five thousand +francs, were even now awaiting me. +</p> + +<p> +After Madame the proprietress had identified Carissimo, I had once more +carefully concealed him under my coat. I was ready to seize my opportunity, +after which I would be free to deal with the matter of Theodore’s amazing +disappearance. Unfortunately just at this moment the little brute gave a yap, +and the minion of the law at once interposed and took possession of him. +</p> + +<p> +“The dog belongs to the police now, Sir,” he said sternly. +</p> + +<p> +The fatuous jobbernowl wanted his share of the reward, you see. +</p> + +<h3>4.</h3> + +<p> +Having been forced thus to give up Carissimo, and with him all my hopes of a +really substantial fortune, I was determined to make the red-polled miscreant +suffer for my disappointment, and the minions of the law sweat in the exercise +of their duty. +</p> + +<p> +I demanded Theodore! My friend, my comrade, my right hand! I had seen him not +ten minutes ago, carrying in his arms this very dog, whom I had subsequently +found inside a wall cupboard beside a blood-stained coat. Where was Theodore? +Pointing an avenging finger at the red-headed reprobate, I boldly accused him +of having murdered my friend with a view to robbing him of the reward offered +for the recovery of the dog. +</p> + +<p> +This brought a new train of thought into the wooden pates of the gendarmes. A +quartet of them had by this time assembled within the respectable precincts of +the Hôtel des Cadets. One of them—senior to the others—at once +dispatched a younger comrade to the nearest commissary of police for advice and +assistance. +</p> + +<p> +Then he ordered us all into the room pompously labelled “Réception,” and there +proceeded once more to interrogate us all, making copious notes in his +leather-bound book all the time, whilst I, moaning and lamenting the loss of my +faithful friend and man of all work, loudly demanded the punishment of his +assassin. +</p> + +<p> +Theodore’s coat, his hat, the blood-stained rag, had all been brought down from +No. 25 and laid out upon the table ready for the inspection of M. the +Commissary of Police. +</p> + +<p> +That gentleman arrived with two private agents, armed with full powers and +wrapped in the magnificent imperturbability of the law. The gendarme had +already put him <i>au fait</i> of the events, and as soon as he was seated +behind the table upon which reposed the “pièces de conviction,” he in his turn +proceeded to interrogate the ginger-pated miscreant. +</p> + +<p> +But strive how he might, M. the Commissary elicited no further information from +him than that which we all already possessed. The man gave his name as Aristide +Nicolet. He had no fixed abode. He had come to visit his friend who lodged in +No. 25 in the Hôtel des Cadets. Not finding him at home he had sat by the fire +and had waited for him. He knew absolutely nothing of the dog and absolutely +nothing of the whereabouts of Theodore. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll soon see about that!” asserted M. the Commissary. +</p> + +<p> +He ordered a perquisition of every room and every corner of the hotel, Madame +the proprietress loudly lamenting that she and her respectable house would +henceforth be disgraced for ever. But the thieves—whoever they +were—were clever. Not a trace of any illicit practice was found on the +premises—and not a trace of Theodore. +</p> + +<p> +Had he indeed been murdered? The thought now had taken root in my mind. For the +moment I had even forgotten Carissimo and my vanished five thousand francs. +</p> + +<p> +Well, Sir! Aristide Nicolet was marched off to the depot—still protesting +his innocence. The next day he was confronted with Mme. la Comtesse de Nolé, +who could not say more than that he might have formed part of the gang who had +jostled her on the Quai Voltaire, whilst the servant who had taken the missive +from him failed to recognize him. +</p> + +<p> +Carissimo was restored to the arms of his loving mistress, but the reward for +his recovery had to be shared between the police and myself: three thousand +francs going to the police who apprehended the thief, and two thousand to me +who had put them on the track. +</p> + +<p> +It was not a fortune, Sir, but I had to be satisfied. But in the meanwhile the +disappearance of Theodore had remained an unfathomable mystery. No amount of +questionings and cross-questionings, no amount of confrontations and +perquisitions, had brought any new matter to light. Aristide Nicolet persisted +in his statements, as did the proprietress and the concierge of the Hôtel des +Cadets in theirs. Theodore had undoubtedly occupied room No. 25 in the hotel +during the three days while I was racking my brain as to what had become of +him. I equally undoubtedly saw him for a few moments running up the Rue Beaune +with Carissimo’s tail projecting beneath his coat. Then he entered the open +doorway of the hotel, and henceforth his whereabouts remained a baffling +mystery. +</p> + +<p> +Beyond his coat and hat, the stained rag and the dog himself, there was not the +faintest indication of what became of him after that. The concierge vowed that +he did not enter the hotel—Aristide Nicolet vowed that he did not enter +No. 25. But then the dog was in the cupboard, and so were the hat and coat; and +even the police were bound to admit that in the short space of time between my +last glimpse of Theodore and the gendarme’s entry into room 25 it would be +impossible for the most experienced criminal on earth to murder a man, conceal +every trace of the crime, and so to dispose of the body as to baffle the most +minute inquiry and the most exhaustive search. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes when I thought the whole matter out I felt that I was growing crazy. +</p> + +<h3>5.</h3> + +<p> +Thus about a week or ten days went by and I had just come reluctantly to the +conclusion that there must be some truth in the old mediaeval legends which +tell us that the devil runs away with his elect from time to time, when I +received a summons from M. the Commissary of Police to present myself at his +bureau. +</p> + +<p> +He was pleasant and urbane as usual, but to my anxious query after Theodore he +only gave me the old reply: “No trace of him can be found.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he added: “We must therefore take it for granted, my good M. Ratichon, +that your man of all work is—of his own free will—keeping out of +the way. The murder theory is untenable; we have had to abandon it. The total +disappearance of the body is an unanswerable argument against it. Would you +care to offer a reward for information leading to the recovery of your missing +friend?” +</p> + +<p> +I hesitated. I certainly was not prepared to pay anyone for finding Theodore. +</p> + +<p> +“Think it over, my good M. Ratichon,” rejoined M. le Commissaire pleasantly. +“But in the meanwhile I must tell you that we have decided to set Aristide +Nicolet free. There is not a particle of evidence against him either in the +matter of the dog or of that of your friend. Mme. de Nolé’s servants cannot +swear to his identity, whilst you have sworn that you last saw the dog in your +man’s arms. That being so, I feel that we have no right to detain an innocent +man.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, Sir, what could I say? I knew well enough that there was not a tittle of +solid evidence against the man Nicolet, nor had I the power to move the police +of His Majesty the King from their decision. In my heart of hearts I had the +firm conviction that the ginger-polled ruffian knew all about Carissimo and all +about the present whereabouts of that rascal Theodore. But what could I say, +Sir? What could I do? +</p> + +<p> +I went home that night to my lodgings at Passy more perplexed than ever I had +been in my life before. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning I arrived at my office soon after nine. The problem had +presented itself to me during the night of finding a new man of all work who +would serve me on the same terms as that ungrateful wretch Theodore. +</p> + +<p> +I mounted the stairs with a heavy step and opened the outer door of my +apartment with my private key; and then, Sir, I assure you that for one brief +moment I felt that my knees were giving way under me and that I should +presently measure my full length on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +There, sitting at the table in my private room, was Theodore. He had donned one +of the many suits of clothes which I always kept at the office for purposes of +my business, and he was calmly consuming a luscious sausage which was to have +been part of my dinner today, and finishing a half-bottle of my best Bordeaux. +</p> + +<p> +He appeared wholly unconscious of his enormities, and when I taxed him with his +villainies and plied him with peremptory questions he met me with a dogged +silence and a sulky attitude which I have never seen equalled in all my life. +He flatly denied that he had ever walked the streets of Paris with a dog under +his arm, or that I had ever chased him up the Rue Beaune. He denied ever having +lodged in the Hôtel des Cadets, or been acquainted with its proprietress, or +with a red-polled, hunchback miscreant named Aristide Nicolet. He denied that +the coat and hat found in room No. 25 were his; in fact, he denied everything, +and with an impudence, Sir, which was past belief. +</p> + +<p> +But he put the crown to his insolence when he finally demanded two hundred +francs from me: his share in the sum paid to me by Mme. de Nolé for the +recovery of her dog. He demanded this, Sir, in the name of justice and of +equity, and even brandished our partnership contract in my face. +</p> + +<p> +I was so irate at his audacity, so disgusted that presently I felt that I could +not bear the sight of him any longer. I turned my back on him and walked out of +my own private room, leaving him there still munching my sausage and drinking +my Bordeaux. +</p> + +<p> +I was going through the antechamber with a view to going out into the street +for a little fresh air when something in the aspect of the chair-bedstead on +which that abominable brute Theodore had apparently spent the night attracted +my attention. I turned over one of the cushions, and with a cry of rage which I +took no pains to suppress I seized upon what I found lying beneath: a blue +linen blouse, Sir, a peaked cap, a ginger-coloured wig and beard! +</p> + +<p> +The villain! The abominable mountebank! The wretch! The . . . I was wellnigh +choking with wrath. +</p> + +<p> +With the damning pieces of conviction in my hand, I rushed back into the inner +room. Already my cry of indignation had aroused the vampire from his orgy. He +stood before me sheepish, grinning, and taunted me, Sir—taunted me for my +blindness in not recognizing him under the disguise of the so-called Aristide +Nicolet. +</p> + +<p> +It was a disguise which he had kept by him in case of an emergency when first +he decided to start business as a dog thief. Carissimo had been his first +serious venture and but for my interference it would have been a wholly +successful one. He had worked the whole thing out with marvellous cleverness, +being greatly assisted by Madame Sand, the proprietress of the Hôtel des +Cadets, who was a friend of his mother’s. The lady, it seems, carried on a +lucrative business of the same sort herself, and she undertook to furnish him +with the necessary confederates for the carrying out of his plan. The proceeds +of the affair were to be shared equally between himself and Madame; the +confederates, who helped to jostle Mme. de Nolé whilst her dog was being +stolen, were to receive five francs each for their trouble. +</p> + +<p> +When he met me at the corner of the Rue Beaune he was on his way to the Rue +Guénégaud, hoping to exchange Carissimo for five thousand francs. When he met +me, however, he felt that the best thing to do for the moment was to seek +safety in flight. He had only just time to run back to the hotel to warn Mme. +Sand of my approach and beg her to detain me at any cost. Then he flew up the +stairs, changed into his disguise, Carissimo barking all the time furiously. +Whilst he was trying to pacify the dog, the latter bit him severely in the arm, +drawing a good deal of blood—the crimson scar across his face was a last +happy inspiration which put the finishing touch to his disguise and to the +hoodwinking of the police and of me. He had only just time to staunch the blood +from his arm and to thrust his own clothes and Carissimo into the wall cupboard +when the gendarme and I burst in upon him. +</p> + +<p> +I could only gasp. For one brief moment the thought rushed through my mind that +I would denounce him to the police for . . . for . . . +</p> + +<p> +But that was just the trouble. Of what could I accuse him? Of murdering himself +or of stealing Mme. de Nolé’s dog? The commissary would hardly listen to such a +tale . . . and it would make me seem ridiculous. . . . +</p> + +<p> +So I gave Theodore the soundest thrashing he ever had in his life, and fifty +francs to keep his mouth shut. +</p> + +<p> +But did I not tell you that he was a monster of ingratitude? +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0005"></a> +CHAPTER V. — THE TOYS</h2> + +<h3>1.</h3> + +<p> +You are right, Sir, I very seldom speak of my halcyon days—those days +when the greatest monarch the world has ever known honoured me with his +intimacy and confidence. I had my office in the Rue St. Roch then, at the top +of a house just by the church, and not a stone’s throw from the palace, and I +can tell you, Sir, that in those days ministers of state, foreign ambassadors, +aye! and members of His Majesty’s household, were up and down my staircase at +all hours of the day. I had not yet met Theodore then, and fate was wont to +smile on me. +</p> + +<p> +As for M. le Duc d’Otrante, Minister of Police, he would send to me or for me +whenever an intricate case required special acumen, resourcefulness and +secrecy. Thus in the matter of the English files—have I told you of it +before? No? Well, then, you shall hear. +</p> + +<p> +Those were the days, Sir, when the Emperor’s Berlin Decrees were going to sweep +the world clear of English commerce and of English enterprise. It was not a +case of paying heavy duty on English goods, or a still heavier fine if you +smuggled; it was total prohibition, and hanging if you were caught bringing so +much as a metre of Bradford cloth or half a dozen Sheffield files into the +country. But you know how it is, Sir: the more strict the law the more ready +are certain lawless human creatures to break it. Never was smuggling so rife as +it was in those days—I am speaking now of 1810 or 11—never was it +so daring or smugglers so reckless. +</p> + +<p> +M. le Duc d’Otrante had his hands full, I can tell you. It had become a matter +for the secret police; the coastguard or customs officials were no longer able +to deal with it. +</p> + +<p> +Then one day Hypolite Leroux came to see me. I knew the man well—a keen +sleuthhound if ever there was one—and well did he deserve his name, for +he was as red as a fox. +</p> + +<p> +“Ratichon,” he said to me, without preamble, as soon as he had seated himself +opposite to me, and I had placed half a bottle of good Bordeaux and a couple of +glasses on the table. “I want your help in the matter of these English files. +We have done all that we can in our department. M. le Duc has doubled the +customs personnel on the Swiss frontier, the coastguard is both keen and +efficient, and yet we know that at the present moment there are thousands of +English files used in this country, even inside His Majesty’s own armament +works. M. le Duc d’Otrante is determined to put an end to the scandal. He has +offered a big reward for information which will lead to the conviction of one +or more of the chief culprits, and I am determined to get that +reward—with your help, if you will give it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the reward?” I asked simply. +</p> + +<p> +“Five thousand francs,” he replied. “Your knowledge of English and Italian is +what caused me to offer you a share in this splendid enterprise—” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no good lying to me, Leroux,” I broke in quietly, “if we are going to +work amicably together.” +</p> + +<p> +He swore. +</p> + +<p> +“The reward is ten thousand francs.” I made the shot at a venture, knowing my +man well. +</p> + +<p> +“I swear that it is not,” he asserted hotly. +</p> + +<p> +“Swear again,” I retorted, “for I’ll not deal with you for less than five +thousand.” +</p> + +<p> +He did swear again and protested loudly. But I was firm. +</p> + +<p> +“Have another glass of wine,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +After which he gave in. +</p> + +<p> +The affair was bound to be risky. Smugglers of English goods were determined +and desperate men who were playing for high stakes and risking their necks on +the board. In all matters of smuggling a knowledge of foreign languages was an +invaluable asset. I spoke Italian well and knew some English. I knew my worth. +We both drank a glass of cognac and sealed our bond then and there. +</p> + +<p> +After which Leroux drew his chair closer to my desk. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen, then,” he said. “You know the firm of Fournier Frères, in the Rue +Colbert?” +</p> + +<p> +“By name, of course. Cutlers and surgical instrument makers by appointment to +His Majesty. What about them?” +</p> + +<p> +“M. le Duc has had his eyes on them for some time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fournier Frères!” I ejaculated. “Impossible! A more reputable firm does not +exist in France.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know, I know,” he rejoined impatiently. “And yet it is a curious fact that +M. Aristide Fournier, the junior partner, has lately bought for himself a house +at St. Claude.” +</p> + +<p> +“At St. Claude?” I ejaculated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he responded dryly. “Very near to Gex, what?” +</p> + +<p> +I shrugged my shoulders, for indeed the circumstances did appear somewhat +strange. +</p> + +<p> +Do you know Gex, my dear Sir? Ah, it is a curious and romantic spot. It has +possibilities, both natural and political, which appear to have been expressly +devised for the benefit of the smuggling fraternity. Nestling in the midst of +the Jura mountains, it is outside the customs zone of the Empire. So you see +the possibilities, do you not? Gex soon became the picturesque warehouse of +every conceivable kind of contraband goods. On one side of it there was the +Swiss frontier, and the Swiss Government was always willing to close one eye in +the matter of customs provided its palm was sufficiently greased by the +light-fingered gentry. No difficulty, therefore, as you see, in getting +contraband goods—even English ones—as far as Gex. +</p> + +<p> +Here they could be kept hidden until a fitting opportunity occurred for +smuggling them into France, opportunities for which the Jura, with their narrow +defiles and difficult mountain paths, afforded magnificent scope. St. Claude, +of which Leroux had just spoken as the place where M. Aristide Fournier had +recently bought himself a house, is in France, only a few kilometres from the +neutral zone of Gex. It seemed a strange spot to choose for a wealthy and +fashionable member of Parisian bourgeois society, I was bound to admit. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” I mused, “one cannot go to Gex without a permit from the police.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not by road,” Leroux assented. “But you will own that there are means +available to men who are young and vigorous like M. Fournier, who moreover, I +understand, is an accomplished mountaineer. You know Gex, of course?” +</p> + +<p> +I had crossed the Jura once, in my youth, but was not very intimately familiar +with the district. Leroux had a carefully drawn-out map of it in his pocket; +this he laid out before me. +</p> + +<p> +“These two roads,” he began, tracing the windings of a couple of thin red lines +on the map with the point of his finger, “are the only two made ones that lead +in and out of the district. Here is the Valserine,” he went on, pointing to a +blue line, “which flows from north to south, and both the roads wind over +bridges that span the river close to our frontier. The French customs stations +are on our side of those bridges. But, besides those two roads, the frontier +can, of course, be crossed by one or other of the innumerable mountain tracks +which are only accessible to pedestrians or mules. That is where our customs +officials are powerless, for the tracks are precipitous and offer unlimited +cover to those who know every inch of the ground. Several of them lead directly +into St. Claude, at some considerable distance from the customs stations, and +it is these tracks which are being used by M. Aristide Fournier for the +felonious purpose of trading with the enemy—on this I would stake my +life. But I mean to be even with him, and if I get the help which I require +from you, I am convinced that I can lay him by the heels.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am your man,” I concluded simply. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” he resumed. “Are you prepared to journey with me to Gex?” +</p> + +<p> +“When do you start?” +</p> + +<p> +“To-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be ready.” +</p> + +<p> +He gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“Then listen to my plan,” he said. “We’ll journey together as far as St. +Claude; from there you will push on to Gex, and take up your abode in the city, +styling yourself an interpreter. This will give you the opportunity of mixing +with some of the smuggling fraternity, and it will be your duty to keep both +your eyes and ears open. I, on the other hand, will take up my quarters at +Mijoux, the French customs station, which is on the frontier, about half a +dozen kilometres from Gex. Every day I’ll arrange to meet you, either at the +latter place or somewhere half-way, and hear what news you may have to tell me. +And mind, Ratichon,” he added sternly, “it means running straight, or the +reward will slip through our fingers.” +</p> + +<p> +I chose to ignore the coarse insinuation, and only riposted quietly: +</p> + +<p> +“I must have money on account. I am a poor man, and will be out of pocket by +the transaction from the hour I start for Gex to that when you pay me my fair +share of the reward.” +</p> + +<p> +By way of a reply he took out a case from his pocket. I saw that it was bulging +over with banknotes, which confirmed me in my conviction both that he was +actually an emissary of the Minister of Police and that I could have demanded +an additional thousand francs without fear of losing the business. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll give you five hundred on account,” he said as he licked his ugly thumb +preparatory to counting out the money before me. +</p> + +<p> +“Make it a thousand,” I retorted; “and call it ‘additional,’ not ‘on account.’” +</p> + +<p> +He tried to argue. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not keen on the business,” I said with calm dignity, “so if you think +that I am asking too much—there are others, no doubt, who would do the +work for less.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a bold move. But it succeeded. Leroux laughed and shrugged his +shoulders. Then he counted out ten hundred-franc notes and laid them out upon +the desk. But before I could touch them he laid his large bony hands over the +lot and, looking me straight between the eyes, he said with earnest +significance: +</p> + +<p> +“English files are worth as much as twenty francs apiece in the market.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fournier Frères would not take the risks which they are doing for a +consignment of less than ten thousand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I doubt if they would,” I rejoined blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“It will be your business to find out how and when the smugglers propose to get +their next consignment over the frontier.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly.” +</p> + +<p> +“And to communicate any information you may have obtained to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And to keep an eye on the valuable cargo, of course?” I concluded. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said roughly, “an eye. But hands off, understand, my good Ratichon, +or there’ll be trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not wait to hear my indignant protest. He had risen to his feet, and had +already turned to go. Now he stretched his great coarse hand out to me. +</p> + +<p> +“All in good part, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +I took his hand. He meant no harm, did old Leroux. He was just a common, vulgar +fellow who did not know a gentleman when he saw one. +</p> + +<p> +And we parted the best of friends. +</p> + +<h3>2.</h3> + +<p> +A week later I was at Gex. At St. Claude I had parted from Leroux, and then +hired a chaise to take me to my destination. It was a matter of fifteen +kilometres by road over the frontier of the customs zone and through the most +superb scenery I had ever seen in my life. We drove through narrow gorges, on +each side of which the mountain heights rose rugged and precipitous to +incalculable altitudes above. From time to time only did I get peeps of almost +imperceptible tracks along the declivities, tracks on which it seemed as if +goats alone could obtain a footing. Once—hundreds of feet above +me—I spied a couple of mules descending what seemed like a sheer +perpendicular path down the mountain side. The animals appeared to be heavily +laden, and I marvelled what forbidden goods lay hidden within their packs and +whether in the days that were to come I too should be called upon to risk my +life on those declivities following in the footsteps of the reckless and +desperate criminals whom it was my duty to pursue. +</p> + +<p> +I confess that at the thought, and with those pictures of grim nature before +me, I felt an unpleasant shiver coursing down my spine. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing of importance occurred during the first fortnight of my sojourn at Gex. +I was installed in moderately comfortable, furnished rooms in the heart of the +city, close to the church and market square. In one of my front windows, +situated on the ground floor, I had placed a card bearing the inscription: +“Aristide Barrot, Interpreter,” and below, “Anglais, Allemand, Italien.” I had +even had a few clients—conversations between the local police and some +poor wretches caught in the act of smuggling a few yards of Swiss silk or a +couple of cream cheeses over the French frontier, and sent back to Gex to be +dealt with by the local authorities. +</p> + +<p> +Leroux had found lodgings at Mijoux, and twice daily he walked over to Gex to +consult with me. We met, mornings and evenings, at the café restaurant of the +Crâne Chauve, an obscure little tavern situated on the outskirts of the city. +He was waxing impatient at what he called my supineness, for indeed so far I +had had nothing to report. +</p> + +<p> +There was no sign of M. Aristide Fournier. No one in Gex appeared to know +anything about him, though the proprietor of the principal hotel in the town +did recollect having had a visitor of that name once or twice during the past +year. But, of course, during this early stage of my stay in the town it was +impossible for me to believe anything that I was told. I had not yet succeeded +in winning the confidence of the inhabitants, and it was soon pretty evident to +me that the whole countryside was engaged in the perilous industry of +smuggling. Everyone from the mayor downwards did a bit of a deal now and again +in contraband goods. In ordinary cases it only meant fines if one was caught, +or perhaps imprisonment for repeated offenses. +</p> + +<p> +But four or five days after my arrival at Gex I saw three fellows handed over +to the police of the department. They had been caught in the act of trying to +ford the Valserine with half a dozen pack-mules laden with English cloth. They +were hanged at St. Claude two days later. +</p> + +<p> +I can assure you, Sir, that the news of this summary administration of justice +sent another cold shiver down my spine, and I marvelled if indeed Leroux’s +surmises were correct and if a respectable tradesman like Aristide Fournier +would take such terrible risks even for the sake of heavy gains. +</p> + +<p> +I had been in Gex just a fortnight when the weather, which hitherto had been +splendid, turned to squalls and storms. We were then in the second week of +September. A torrential rain had fallen the whole of one day, during which I +had only been out in order to meet Leroux, as usual, at the Café du Crâne +Chauve. I had just come home from our evening meeting—it was then ten +o’clock—and I was preparing to go comfortably to bed, when I was startled +by a violent ring at the front-door bell. +</p> + +<p> +I had only just time to wonder if this belated visitor desired to see me or my +worthy landlady, Mme. Bournon, when her heavy footsteps resounded along the +passage. The next moment I heard my name spoken peremptorily by a harsh voice, +and Mme. Bournon’s reply that M. Aristide Barrot was indeed within. A few +seconds later she ushered my nocturnal visitor into my room. +</p> + +<p> +He was wrapped in a dark mantle from head to foot, and he wore a wide-brimmed +hat pulled right over his eyes. He did not remove either as he addressed me +without further preamble. +</p> + +<p> +“You are an interpreter, Sir?” he queried, speaking very rapidly and in sharp +commanding tones. +</p> + +<p> +“At your service,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Ernest Berty. I want you to come with me at once to my house. I +require your services as intermediary between myself and some men who have come +to see me on business. These men whom I wish you to see are Russians,” he +added, I fancied as an afterthought, “but they speak English fluently.” +</p> + +<p> +I suppose that I looked just as I felt—somewhat dubious owing to the +lateness of the hour and the darkness of the night, not to speak of the +abominable weather, for he continued with marked impatience: +</p> + +<p> +“It is imperative that you should come at once. Though my house is at some +little distance from here, I have a chaise outside which will also bring you +back, and,” he added significantly, “I will pay you whatever you demand.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very late,” I demurred, “the weather—” +</p> + +<p> +“Your fee, man!” he broke in roughly, “and let’s get on!” +</p> + +<p> +“Five hundred francs,” I said at a venture. +</p> + +<p> +“Come!” was his curt reply. “I will give you the money as we drive along.” +</p> + +<p> +I wished I had made it a thousand; apparently my services were worth a great +deal to him. However, I picked up my mantle and my hat, and within a few +seconds was ready to go. I shouted up to Mme. Bournon that I would not be home +for a couple of hours, but that as I had my key I need not disturb her when I +returned. +</p> + +<p> +Once outside the door I almost regretted my ready acquiescence in this +nocturnal adventure. The rain was beating down unmercifully, and at first I saw +no sign of a vehicle; but in answer to my visitor’s sharp command I followed +him down the street as far as the market square, at the corner of which I spied +the dim outline of a carriage and a couple of horses. +</p> + +<p> +Without wasting too many words, M. Ernest Berty bundled me into the carriage, +and very soon we were on the way. The night was impenetrably dark and the +chaise more than ordinarily rickety. I had but little opportunity to ascertain +which way we were going. A small lanthorn fixed opposite to me in the interior +of the carriage, and flickering incessantly before my eyes, made it still more +impossible for me to see anything outside the narrow window. My companion sat +beside me, silent and absorbed. After a while I ventured to ask him which way +we were driving. +</p> + +<p> +“Through the town,” he replied curtly. “My house is just outside Divonne.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, Divonne is, as I knew, quite close to the Swiss frontier. It is a matter +of seven or eight kilometres—an hour’s drive at the very least in this +supremely uncomfortable vehicle. I tried to induce further conversation, but +made no headway against my companion’s taciturnity. However, I had little cause +for complaint in another direction. After the first quarter of an hour, and +when we had left the cobblestones of the city behind us, he drew a bundle of +notes from his pocket, and by the flickering light of the lanthorn he counted +out ten fifty-franc notes and handed them without another word to me. +</p> + +<p> +The drive was unspeakably wearisome; but after a while I suppose that the +monotonous rumbling of the wheels and the incessant patter of the rain against +the window-panes lulled me into a kind of torpor. Certain it is that +presently—much sooner than I had anticipated—the chaise drew up +with a jerk, and I was roused to full consciousness by hearing M. Berty’s voice +saying curtly: +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are! Come with me!” +</p> + +<p> +I was stiff, Sir, and I was shivering—not so much with cold as with +excitement. You will readily understand that all my faculties were now on the +qui vive. Somehow or other during the wearisome drive by the side of my +close-tongued companion my mind had fastened on the certitude that my adventure +of this night bore a close connexion to the firm of Fournier Frères and to the +English files which were causing so many sleepless nights to M. le Duc +d’Otrante, Minister of Police. +</p> + +<p> +But nothing in my manner, as I stepped out of the carriage under the porch of +the house which loomed dark and massive out of the surrounding gloom, betrayed +anything of what I felt. Outwardly I was just a worthy bourgeois, an +interpreter by profession, and delighted at the remunerative work so +opportunely put in my way. +</p> + +<p> +The house itself appeared lonely as well as dark. M. Berty led the way across a +narrow passage, at the end of which there was a door which he pushed open, +saying in his usual abrupt manner: “Go in there and wait. I’ll send for you +directly.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he closed the door on me, and I heard his footsteps recrossing the +corridor and presently ascending some stairs. I was left alone in a small, +sparsely furnished room, dimly lighted by an oil lamp which hung down from the +ceiling. There was a table in the middle of the room, a square of carpet on the +floor, and a couple of chairs beside a small iron stove. I noticed that the +single window was closely shuttered and barred. I sat down and waited. At first +the silence around me was only broken by the pattering of the rain against the +shutters and the soughing of the wind down the iron chimney pipe, but after a +little while my senses, which by this time had become super-acute, were +conscious of various noises within the house itself: footsteps overhead, a +confused murmur of voices, and anon the unmistakable sound of a female voice +raised as if in entreaty or in complaint. +</p> + +<p> +Somehow a vague feeling of alarm possessed itself of my nervous system. I began +to realise my position—alone, a stranger in a house as to whose situation +I had not the remotest idea, and among a set of men who, if my surmises were +correct, were nothing less than a gang of determined and dangerous criminals. +The voices, especially the female one, were now sounding more clear. I tiptoed +to the door, and very gently opened it. There was indeed no mistaking the tone +of desperate pleading which came from some room above and through & woman’s +lips. I even caught the words: “Oh, don’t! Oh, don’t! Not again!” repeated at +intervals with pitiable insistence. +</p> + +<p> +Mastering my not unnatural anxiety, I opened the door a little farther and +slipped out into the passage, all my instincts of chivalry towards beauty in +distress aroused by those piteous cries. Forgetful of every possible danger and +of all prudence, I had already darted down the corridor, determined to do my +duty as a gentleman as soon as I had ascertained whence had come those cries of +anguish, when I heard the frou-frou of skirts and a rapid patter of small feet +down the stairs. The next moment a radiant vision, all white muslin, fair curls +and the scent of violets, descended on me from above, a soft hand closed over +mine and drew me, unresisting, back into the room from whence I had just come. +</p> + +<p> +Bewildered, I gazed on the winsome apparition before me, and beheld a young +girl, slender as a lily, dressed in a soft, clinging gown which made her appear +more slender still, her fair hair arranged in a tangle of unruly curls round +the dainty oval of her face. +</p> + +<p> +She was exquisite, Sir! And the slenderness of her! You cannot imagine it! She +looked like a young sapling bending to the gale. But what cut me to the heart +was the look of terror and of misery in her face. She clasped her hands +together and the tears gathered in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Go, Sir, go at once!” she murmured under her breath, speaking very rapidly. +“Do not waste a minute, I beg of you! As you value your life, go before it is +too late!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Mademoiselle,” I stammered; for indeed her words and appearance had +roused all my worst fears, but also all my instincts of the sleuth-hound +scenting his quarry. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t argue, I beg of you,” continued the lovely creature, who indeed seemed +the prey of overwhelming emotions—fear, horror, pity. “When he comes back +do not let him find you here. I’ll explain, I’ll know what to say, only I +entreat you—go!” +</p> + +<p> +Sir, I have many faults, but cowardice does not happen to be one of them, and +the more the angel pleaded the more determined was I to see this business +through. I was, of course, quite convinced by now that I was on the track of M. +Aristide Fournier and the English files, and I was not going to let five +thousand francs and the gratitude of the Minister of Police slip through my +fingers so easily. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle,” I rejoined as calmly as I could, “let me assure you that though +your anxiety for me is like manna to a starving man, I have no fears for my own +safety. I have come here in the capacity of a humble interpreter; I certainly +am not worth putting out of the way. Moreover, I have been paid for my +services, and these I will render to my employer to the best of my +capabilities.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but you don’t know,” she retorted, not departing one jot from her attitude +of terror and of entreaty, “you don’t understand. This house, Monsieur,” she +added in a hoarse whisper, “is nothing but a den of criminals wherein no honest +man or woman is safe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon, Mademoiselle,” I riposted as lightly and as gallantly as I could, “I +see before me the living proof that angels, at any rate, dwell therein.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! Sir,” she rejoined, with a heart-rending sigh, “if you mean me, I am +only to be pitied. My dear mother and I are naught but slaves to the will of my +brother, who uses us as tools for his nefarious ends.” +</p> + +<p> +“But . . .” I stammered, horrified beyond speech at the vista of villainy which +her words had opened up before me. +</p> + +<p> +“My mother, Sir,” she said simply, “is old and ailing; she is dying of anguish +at sight of her son’s misdeeds. I would not, could not leave her, yet I would +give my life to see her free from that miscreant’s clutches!” +</p> + +<p> +My whole soul was stirred to its depths by the intensity of passion which rang +through this delicate creature’s words. What weird and awesome mystery of +iniquity and of crime lay hid, I wondered, between these walls? In what tragedy +had I thus accidentally become involved while fulfilling my prosaic duty in the +interest of His Majesty’s exchequer? As in a flash it suddenly came to me that +perhaps I could serve both this lovely creature and the Emperor better by going +out of the house now, and lying hidden all the night through somewhere in its +vicinity until in daylight I could locate its exact situation. Then I could +communicate with Leroux at once and procure the apprehension of this +Berty—or Fournier—who apparently was a desperate criminal. Already +a bold plan was taking shape in my brain, and with my mind’s eye I had measured +the distance which separated me from the front door and safety when, in the +distance, I heard heavy footsteps slowly descending the stairs. I looked at my +lovely companion, and saw her eyes gradually dilating with increased horror. +She gave a smothered cry, pressed her handkerchief to her lips, then she +murmured hoarsely, “Too late!” and fled precipitately from the room, leaving me +a prey to mingled emotions such as I had never experienced before. +</p> + +<h3>3.</h3> + +<p> +A moment or two later M. Ernest Berty, or whatever his real name may have been, +entered the room. Whether he had encountered his exquisite sister on the +corridor or the stairs, I could not tell; his face, in the dim light of the +hanging lamp, looked impenetrable and sinister. +</p> + +<p> +“This way, M. Barrot,” he said curtly. +</p> + +<p> +Just for one brief moment the thought occurred to me to throw myself upon him +with my whole weight—which was considerable—and make a wild dash +for the front door. But it was more than probable that I should be intercepted +and brought back, after which no doubt I would be an object of suspicion to +these rascals and my life would not be worth an hour’s purchase. With the young +girl’s warnings ringing in my ears, I felt that my one chance of safety and of +circumventing these criminals lay in my seeming ingenuousness and complete +guileless-ness. +</p> + +<p> +I assumed a perfect professional manner and followed my companion up the +stairs. He ushered me into a room just above the one where I had been waiting +up to now. Three men dressed in rough clothes were sitting at a table on which +stood a couple of tankards and four empty pewter mugs. My employer offered me a +glass of ale, which I declined. Then we got to work. +</p> + +<p> +At the first words which M. Berty uttered I knew that all my surmises had been +correct. Whether he himself was M. Aristide Fournier, or another partner of +that firm, or some other rascal engaged in nefarious doings, I could not know; +certain it was that through the medium of cipher words and phrases which he +thought were unintelligible to me, and which he ordered me to interpret into +English, he was giving directions to the three men with regard to the convoying +of contraband cargo over the frontier. +</p> + +<p> +There was much talk of “toys” and “babies”—the latter were to take a walk +in the mountains and to avoid the “thorns”; the “toys” were to be securely +fastened and well protected against water. It was obviously a case of mules and +of the goods, the “thorns” being the customs officials. By the time that we had +finished I was absolutely convinced in my mind that the cargo was one of +English files or razors, for it was evidently extraordinarily valuable and not +at all bulky, seeing that two “babies” were to carry all the “toys” for a +considerable distance. The men, too, were obviously English. I tried the few +words of Russian that I knew on them, and their faces remained perfectly blank. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, indeed, I was on the track of M. Aristide Fournier, and of one of the most +important hauls of enemy goods which had ever been made in France. Not only +that. I had also before me one of the most brutish criminals it had ever been +my misfortune to come across. A bully, a fiend of cruelty. In very truth my +fertile brain was seething with plans for eventually laying that abominable +ruffian by the heels: hanging would be a merciful punishment for such a +miscreant. Yes, indeed, five thousand francs—a goodly sum in those days, +Sir—was practically assured me. But over and above mere lucre there was +the certainty that in a few days’ time I should see the light of gratitude +shining out of a pair of lustrous blue eyes, and a winning smile chasing away +the look of fear and of sorrow from the sweetest face I had seen for many a +day. +</p> + +<p> +Despite the turmoil that was raging in my brain, however, I flatter myself that +my manner with the rascals remained consistently calm, businesslike, +indifferent to all save to the work in hand. The soi-disant Ernest Berty spoke +invariably in French, either dictating his orders or seeking information, and I +made verbal translation into English of all that he said. The séance lasted +close upon an hour, and presently I gathered that the affair was terminated and +that I could consider myself dismissed. +</p> + +<p> +I was about to take my leave, having apparently completed my work, when M. +Ernest Berty called me back with a curt command. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, M. Barrot,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“At Monsieur’s service,” I responded blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“As you see,” he continued, “these fellows do not know a word of French. All +along the way which they will have to traverse they will meet friendly +outposts, who will report to them on the condition of the roads and warn them +of any danger that might be ahead. Their ignorance of our language may be a +source of infinite peril to them. They need an interpreter to accompany them +over the mountains.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused for a moment or two, then added abruptly: +</p> + +<p> +“Would you care to go? The matter is important,” he went on quietly, “and I am +willing to pay you. It means a couple of nights’ journey—a halt in the +mountains during the day—and there will be ten thousand francs for you if +the ‘toys’ reach St. Claude safely.” +</p> + +<p> +I suppose that something in my face betrayed the eagerness which I felt. Here +was indeed the finger of Providence pointing to the best means of undoing this +abominable criminal. Not that I intended to risk my neck for any ten thousand +francs he chose to offer me, but as the trusted guide of his ingenuous “babies” +I could convoy them—not to St. Claude, as he blandly believed, but +straight into the arms of Leroux and the customs officials. +</p> + +<p> +“Then that is understood,” he said in his usual dictatorial manner, taking my +consent for granted. “Ten thousand francs. And you will accompany these +gentlemen and their ‘babies’ as far as St. Claude?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a poor man, Sir,” I responded meekly. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you are,” he broke in roughly. +</p> + +<p> +Then from a number of papers which lay upon the table, he selected one which he +held out to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know St. Cergues?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I replied. “It is a short walk from Gex.” +</p> + +<p> +“This,” he added, pointing to a paper which I had taken from him, “is a plan of +the village and of the Pass of Cergues close by. Study it carefully. At some +point some way up the pass, which I have marked with a cross, I and my men with +the ‘babies’ will be waiting for you to-morrow evening at eight o’clock. You +cannot possibly fail to find the spot, for the plan is very accurate and very +minute, and it is less than five hundred metres from the last house at the +entrance of the pass. I shall escort the men until then, and hand them over +into your charge for the mountain journey. Is that clear?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then; you may go. The carriage is outside the door. You know your +way.” +</p> + +<p> +He dismissed me with a curt nod, and the next two minutes saw me outside this +house of mystery and installed inside the ramshackle vehicle on my way back to +my lodgings. +</p> + +<p> +I was worn out with fatigue and excitement, and I imagine that I slept most of +the way. Certain it is that the journey home was not nearly so long as the +outward one had been. The rain was still coming down heavily, but I cared +nothing about the weather, nothing about fatigue. My path to fame and fortune +had been made easier for me than in my wildest dreams I would have dared to +hope. In the morning I would see Leroux and make final arrangements for the +capture of those impudent smugglers, and I thought the best way would be for +him to meet me and the “babies” and the “toys” at the very outset of our +journey, as I did not greatly relish the idea of crossing lonely and dangerous +mountain paths in the company of these ruffians. +</p> + +<p> +I reached home without adventure. The vehicle drew up just outside my lodgings, +and I was about to alight when my eyes were attracted by something white which +lay on the front seat of the carriage, conspicuously placed so that the light +from the inside lanthorn fell full upon it. I had been too tired and too dazed, +I suppose, to notice the thing before, but now, on closer inspection, I saw +that it was a note, and that it was addressed to me: “M. Aristide Barrot, +Interpreter,” and below my name were the words: “Very urgent.” +</p> + +<p> +I took the note feeling a thrill of excitement running through my veins at its +touch. I alighted, and the vehicle immediately disappeared into the night. I +had only caught one glimpse of the horses, and none at all of the coachman. +Then I went straight into my room, and by the light of the table lamp I +unfolded and read the mysterious note. It bore no signature, but at the first +words I knew that the writer was none other than the lovely young creature who +had appeared to me like an angel of innocence in the midst of that den of +thieves. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +“Monsieur,” she had written in a hand which had clearly been trembling with +agitation, “you are good, you are kind; I entreat you to be merciful. My dear +mother, whom I worship, is sick with terror and misery. She will die if she +remains any longer under the sway of that inhuman monster who, alas! is my own +brother. And if I lose her I shall die, too, for I should no longer have anyone +to stand between me and his cruelties. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear mother has some relations living at St. Claude. She would have gone to +them before now, but my brother keeps us both virtual prisoners here, and we +have no means of arranging for such a perilous journey for ourselves. Now, by +the most extraordinary stroke of good fortune, my brother will be absent all +day to-morrow and the following night. My dear mother and I feel that God +Himself is showing us the way to our release. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you, can you help us, dear M. Barrot? Mother and I will be at Gex +to-morrow at one hour after sundown. We will lie perdu in the little Taverne du +Roi de Rome, where, if you come to us, you will find us waiting anxiously. If +you can do nothing to help us, we must return broken-hearted to our hated +prison; but something in my heart tells me that you can help us. All that we +want is a vehicle of some sort and the escort of a brave man like yourself as +far as St. Claude, where our relatives will thank you on their knees for your +kindness and generosity to two helpless, miserable, unprotected women, and I +will kiss your hands in unbounded gratitude and devotion.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +It were impossible, Monsieur, to tell you of the varied emotions which filled +my heart when I had perused that heart-rending appeal. All my instincts of +chivalry were aroused. I was determined to do my duty to these helpless ladies +as a man and as a gallant knight. Even before I finally went to bed I had +settled in my mind what I meant to do. Fortunately it was quite possible for me +to reconcile my duties to my Emperor and those which I owed to myself in the +matter of the reward for the apprehension of the smugglers, with my burning +desire to be the saviour and protector of the lovely creature whose beauty had +inflamed my impressionable heart, and to have my hands kissed by her in +gratitude and devotion. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning Leroux and I were deep in our plans, whilst we sipped our +coffee outside the Crâne Chauve. He was beside himself with joy and excitement +at the prospective haul, which would, of course, redound enormously to his +credit, even though the success of the whole undertaking would be due to my +acumen, my resourcefulness and my pluck. Fortunately I found him not only ready +but eager to render me what assistance he could in the matter of the two ladies +who had thrown themselves so entirely on my protection. +</p> + +<p> +“We might get valuable information out of them,” he remarked. “In the excess of +their gratitude they may betray many more secrets and nefarious doings of the +firm of Fournier Frères.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which further proves,” I remarked, “how deeply you and Monsieur le Ministre of +Police are indebted to me over this affair.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not argue the point. Indeed, we were both of us far too much excited to +waste words in useless bickerings. Our plans for the evening were fairly +simple. We both pored over the map which Fournier-Berty had given me, until we +felt that we could reach blindfolded the spot which had been marked with a +cross. We then arranged that Leroux should betake himself thither with a strong +posse of gendarmes during the day, and lie hidden in the vicinity until such +time as I myself appeared upon the scene, identified my friends of the night +before, parleyed with them for a minute or two, and finally retired, leaving +the law in all its majesty, as represented by Leroux, to deal with the rascals. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime I also mapped out for myself my own share in this night’s +adventurous work. I had hired a vehicle to take me as far as St. Cergues; here +I intended to leave it at the local inn, and then proceed on foot up the +mountain pass to the appointed spot. As soon as I had seen the smugglers safely +in the hands of Leroux and the gendarmes, I would make my way back to St. +Cergues as rapidly as I could, step into my vehicle, drive like the wind back +to Gex, and place myself at the disposal of my fair angel and her afflicted +mother. +</p> + +<p> +Leroux promised me that at the customs station on the French frontier the +officials would look after me and the ladies, and that a pair of fresh horses +would be ready to take us straight on to St. Claude, which, if all was well, we +could then reach by daybreak. +</p> + +<p> +Having settled all these matters we parted company, he to arrange his own +affairs with the Commissary of Police and the customs officials, and I to await +with as much patience as I could the hour when I could start for St. Cergues. +</p> + +<h3>4.</h3> + +<p> +The night—just as I anticipated—promised to be very dark. A thin +drizzle, which wetted the unfortunate pedestrian to the marrow, had replaced +the torrential rain of the previous day. +</p> + +<p> +Twilight was closing in very fast. In the late autumn afternoon I drove to St. +Cergues, after which I left the chaise in the village and boldly started to +walk up the mountain pass. I had studied the map so carefully that I was quite +sure of my way, but though my appointment with the rascals was for eight +o’clock, I wished to reach the appointed spot before the last flicker of grey +light had disappeared from the sky. +</p> + +<p> +Soon I had left the last house well behind me. Boldly I plunged into the narrow +path. The loneliness of the place was indescribable. Every step which I took on +the stony track seemed to rouse the echoes of the grim heights which rose +precipitously on either side of me, and in my mind I felt aghast at the +extraordinary courage of those men who—like Aristide Fournier and his +gang—chose to affront such obvious and manifold dangers as these frowning +mountain regions held for them for the sake of paltry lucre. +</p> + +<p> +I had walked, according to my reckoning, just upon five hundred metres through +the gorge, when on ahead I perceived the flicker of lights which appeared to be +moving to and fro. The silence and loneliness no longer seemed to be absolute. +A few metres from where I was men were living and breathing, plotting and +planning, unconscious of the net which the unerring hand of a skilful fowler +had drawn round them and their misdeeds. +</p> + +<p> +The next moment I was challenged by a peremptory “Halt!” Recognition followed. +M. Ernest Berty, or Aristide Fournier, whichever he was, acknowledged with a +few words my punctuality, whilst through the gloom I took rapid stock of his +little party. I saw the vague outline of three men and a couple of mules which +appeared to be heavily laden. They were assembled on a flat piece of ground +which appeared like a roofless cavern carved out of the mountain side. The +walls of rock around them afforded them both cover and refuge. They seemed in +no hurry to start. They had the long night before them, so one of them remarked +in English. +</p> + +<p> +However, presently M. Fournier-Berty gave the signal for the start to be made, +he himself preparing to take leave of his men. Just at that moment my ears +caught the welcome sound of the tramping of feet, and before any of the rascals +there could realise what was happening, their way was barred by Leroux and his +gendarmes, who loudly gave the order, “Hands up, in the name of the Emperor!” +</p> + +<p> +I was only conscious of a confused murmur of voices, of the click of firearms, +of words of command passing to and fro, and of several violent oaths uttered in +the not unfamiliar voice of M. Aristide Fournier. But already I had spied +Leroux. I only exchanged a few words with him, for indeed my share of the +evening’s work was done as far as he was concerned, and I made haste to retrace +my steps through the darkness and the rain along the lonely mountain path +toward the goal where chivalry and manly ardour beckoned to me from afar. +</p> + +<p> +I found my vehicle waiting for me at St. Cergues, and by the promise of an +additional pourboire, I succeeded in making the driver whip up his horses to +some purpose. Less than an hour later we drew up at Gex outside the little inn, +pretentiously called Le Roi de Rome. On alighting I was met by the proprietress +who, in answer to my inquiry after two ladies who had arrived that afternoon, +at once conducted me upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +Already my mind was busy conjuring up visions of the fair lady of yester-eve. +The landlady threw open a door and ushered me into a small room which reeked of +stale food and damp clothes. I stepped in and found myself face to face with a +large and exceedingly ugly old woman who rose with difficulty from the sofa as +I entered. +</p> + +<p> +“M. Aristide Barrot,” she said as soon as the landlady had closed the door +behind me. +</p> + +<p> +“At your service, Madame,” I stammered. “But—” +</p> + +<p> +I was indeed almost aghast. Never in my life had I seen anything so grotesque +as this woman. To begin with she was more than ordinarily stout and +unwieldy—indeed, she appeared like a veritable mountain of flesh; but +what was so disturbing to my mind was that she was nothing but a hideous +caricature of her lovely daughter, whose dainty features she grotesquely +recalled. Her face was seamed and wrinkled, her white hair was plastered down +above her yellow forehead. She wore an old-fashioned bonnet tied under her +chin, and her huge bulk was draped in a large-patterned cashmere shawl. +</p> + +<p> +“You expected to see my dear daughter beside me, my good M. Barrot,” she said +after a while speaking with remarkable gentleness and dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“I confess, Madame—” I murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! the darling has sacrificed herself for my sake. We found to-day that +though my son was out of the way, he had set his abominable servants to watch +over us. Soon we realized that we could not both get away. It meant one of us +staying behind to act the part of unconcern and to throw dust in the eyes of +our jailers. My daughter—ah! she is an angel, Monsieur—feared that +the disappointment and my son’s cruelty, when he returned on the morrow and +found that he had been tricked, would seriously endanger my life. She decided +that I must go and that she would remain.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Madame—” I protested. +</p> + +<p> +“I know, Monsieur,” she rejoined with the same calm dignity which already had +commanded my respect, “I know that you think me a selfish old woman; but my +Angèle—she is an angel, of a truth!—made all the arrangements, and +I could not help but obey her. But have no fears for her safety, Monsieur. My +son would not dare lay hands on her as often as he has done on me. Angèle will +be brave, and our relations at St. Claude will, directly we arrive, make +arrangements to go and fetch her and bring her back to me. My brother is an +influential man; he would never have allowed my son to martyrize me and Angèle +had he known what we have had to endure.” +</p> + +<p> +Of course I could not then tell her that all her fears for herself and the +lovely Angèle could now be laid to rest. Her ruffianly son was even now being +conveyed by Leroux and his gendarmes to the frontier, where the law would take +its course. I was indeed not sorry for him. I was not sorry to think that he +would end his evil life upon the guillotine or the gallows. I was only grieved +for Angèle who would spend a night and a day, perhaps more, in agonized +suspense, knowing nothing of the events which at one great swoop would free her +and her beloved mother from the tyranny of a hated brother and send him to +expiate his crimes. Not only did I grieve, Sir, for the tender victim of that +man’s brutality, but I trembled for her safety. I did not know what minions or +confederates Fournier-Berty had left in the lonely house yonder, or under what +orders they were in case he did not return from his nocturnal expedition. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed for the moment I felt so agitated at thought of that beautiful angel’s +peril that I looked down with anger and scorn at the fat old woman who ought to +have remained beside her daughter to comfort and to shield her. +</p> + +<p> +I was on the point of telling her everything, and dragging her back to her post +of duty which she should never have relinquished. Fortunately my sense of what +I owed to my own professional dignity prevented my taking such a step. It was +clearly not for me to argue. My first duty was to stand by this helpless woman +in distress, who had been committed to my charge, and to convey her safely to +St. Claude. After which I could see to it that Mademoiselle Angèle was brought +along too as quickly as influential relatives could contrive. +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile I derived some consolation from the thought that at any rate +for the next four and twenty hours the lovely creature would be safe. No news +of the arrest of Aristide Fournier could possibly reach the lonely house until +I myself could return thither and take her under my protection. +</p> + +<p> +So I said nothing; but with perfect gallantry, just as if fat Mme. Fournier had +been a young and beautiful woman, I begged her to give herself the trouble of +mounting into the carriage which was waiting for her. +</p> + +<p> +It took time and trouble, Sir, to hoist that mass of solid flesh into the +vehicle, and the driver grumbled not a little at the unexpected weight. +However, his horses were powerful, wiry, mountain ponies, and we made headway +through the darkness and along the smooth, departmental road at moderate speed. +I may say that it was a miserably uncomfortable journey for me, sitting, as I +was forced to do, on the narrow front seat of the carriage, without support for +my head or room for my legs. But Madame’s bulk filled the whole of the back +seat, and it never seemed to enter her head that I too might like the use of a +cushion. However, even the worst moments and the weariest journeys must come to +an end, and we reached the frontier in the small hours of the morning. Here we +found the customs officials ready to render us any service we might require. +Leroux had not failed to order the fresh relay of horses, and whilst these were +being put to, the polite officers of the station gave Madame and myself some +excellent coffee. Beyond the formal: “Madame has nothing to declare for His +Majesty’s customs?” and my companion’s equally formal: “Nothing, Monsieur, +except my personal belongings,” they did not ply us with questions, and after +half an hour’s halt we again proceeded on our way. +</p> + +<p> +We reached St. Claude at daybreak, and following Madame’s directions, the +driver pulled up in front of a large house in the Avenue du Jura. Again there +was the same difficulty in hoisting the unwieldy lady out of the vehicle, but +this time, in response to my vigorous pull at the outside bell, the concierge +and another man came out of the house, and very respectfully they approached +Madame and conveyed her into the house. +</p> + +<p> +While they did so she apparently gave them some directions about myself, for +anon the concierge returned, and with extreme politeness told me that Madame +Fournier greatly hoped that I would stay in St. Claude a day or two as she had +the desire to see me again very soon. She also honoured me with an invitation +to dine with her that same evening at seven of the clock. This was the first +time, I noticed, that the name Fournier was actually used in connexion with any +of the people with whom I had become so dramatically involved. Not that I had +ever doubted the identity of the ruffianly Ernest Berty; still it was very +satisfactory to have my surmises confirmed. I concluded that the fine house in +the Avenue du Jura belonged to Mme. Fournier’s brother, and I vaguely wondered +who he was. The invitation to dinner had certainly been given in her name, and +the servants had received her with a show of respect which suggested that she +was more than a guest in her brother’s house. +</p> + +<p> +Be that as it may, I betook myself for the nonce to the Hôtel des Moines in the +centre of the town and killed time for the rest of the day as best I could. For +one thing I needed rest after the emotions and the fatigue of the past +forty-eight hours. Remember, Sir, I had not slept for two nights and had spent +the last eight hours on the narrow front seat of a jolting chaise. So I had a +good rest in the afternoon, and at seven o’clock I presented myself once more +at the house in the Avenue du Jura. +</p> + +<p> +My intention was to retire early to bed after spending an agreeable evening +with the family, who would no doubt overwhelm me with their gratitude, and at +daybreak I would drive back to Gex after I had heard all the latest news from +Leroux. +</p> + +<p> +I confess that it was with a pardonable feeling of agitation that I tugged at +the wrought-iron bell-pull on the perron of the magnificent mansion in the +Avenue du Jura. To begin with I felt somewhat rueful at having to appear before +ladies at this hour in my travelling clothes, and then, you will admit, Sir, +that it was a somewhat awkward predicament for a man of highly sensitive +temperament to meet on terms of equality a refined if stout lady whose son he +had just helped to send to the gallows. Fortunately there was no likelihood of +Mme. Fournier being as yet aware of this unpleasant fact: even if she did know +at this hour that her son’s illicit adventure had come to grief, she could not +possibly in her mind connect me with his ill-fortune. So I allowed the +sumptuous valet to take my hat and coat and I followed him with as calm a +demeanour as I could assume up the richly carpeted stairs. Obviously the +relatives of Mme. Fournier were more than well to do. Everything in the house +showed evidences of luxury, not to say wealth. I was ushered into an elegant +salon wherein every corner showed traces of dainty feminine hands. There were +embroidered silk cushions upon the sofa, lace covers upon the tables, whilst a +work basket, filled with a riot of many coloured silks, stood invitingly open. +And through the apartment, Sir, a scent of violets lingered and caressed my +nostrils, reminding me of a beauteous creature in distress whom it had been my +good fortune to succour. +</p> + +<p> +I had waited less than five minutes when I heard a swift, elastic step +approaching through the next room, and a second or so later, before I had time +to take up an appropriate posture, the door was thrown open and the exquisite +vision of my waking dreams—the beautiful Angèle— stood smiling +before me. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle,” I stammered somewhat clumsily, for of a truth I was hardly able +to recover my breath, and surprise had well nigh robbed me of speech, “how +comes it that you are here?” +</p> + +<p> +She only smiled in reply, the most adorable smile I had ever seen on any human +face, so full of joy, of mischief—aye, of triumph, was it. I asked after +Madame. Again she smiled, and said Madame was in her room, resting from the +fatigues of her journey. I had scarce recovered from my initial surprise when +another—more complete still—confronted me. This was the appearance +of Monsieur Aristide Fournier, whom I had fondly imagined already expiating his +crimes in a frontier prison, but who now entered, also smiling, also extremely +pleasant, who greeted me as if we were lifelong friends, and who then—I +scarce could believe my eyes—placed his arm affectionately round his +sister’s waist, while she turned her sweet face up to his and gave him a +fond—nay, a loving look. A loving look to him who was a brute and a bully +and a miscreant amenable to the gallows! True his appearance was completely +changed: his eyes were bright and kindly, his mouth continued to smile, his +manner was urbane in the extreme when he finally introduced himself to me as: +“Aristide Fournier, my dear Monsieur Ratichon, at your service.” +</p> + +<p> +He knew my name, he knew who I was! whilst I . . . I had to pass my hand once +or twice over my forehead and to close and reopen my eyes several times, for, +of a truth, it all seemed like a dream. I tried to stammer out a question or +two, but I could only gasp, and the lovely Angèle appeared highly amused at my +distress. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us dine,” she said gaily, “after which you may ask as many questions as +you like.” +</p> + +<p> +In very truth I was in no mood for dinner. Puzzlement and anxiety appeared to +grip me by the throat and to choke me. It was all very well for the beautiful +creature to laugh and to make merry. She had cruelly deceived me, played upon +the chords of my sensitive heart for purposes which no doubt would presently be +made clear, but in the meanwhile since the smuggling of the English files had +been successful—as it apparently was—what had become of Leroux and +his gendarmes? +</p> + +<p> +What tragedy had been enacted in the narrow gorge of St. Cergues, and what, oh! +what had become of my hopes of that five thousand francs for the apprehension +of the smugglers, promised me by Leroux? Can you wonder that for the moment the +very thought of dinner was abhorrent to me? But only for the moment. The next a +sumptuous valet had thrown open the folding-doors, and down the vista of the +stately apartment I perceived a table richly laden with china and glass and +silver, whilst a distinctly savoury odour was wafted to my nostrils. +</p> + +<p> +“We will not answer a single question,” the fair Angèle reiterated with +adorable determination, “until after we have dined.” +</p> + +<p> +What, Sir, would you have done in my place? I believe that never until this +hour had Hector Ratichon reached to such a sublimity of manner. I bowed with +perfect dignity in token of obedience to the fair creature, Sir; then without a +word I offered her my arm. She placed her hand upon it, and I conducted her to +the dining-room, whilst Aristide Fournier, who at this hour should have been on +a fair way to being hanged, followed in our wake. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! it seemed indeed a lovely dream: one that lasted through an excellent and +copious dinner, and which turned to delightful reality when, over a final glass +of succulent Madeira, Monsieur Aristide Fournier slowly counted out one hundred +notes, worth one hundred francs each, and presented these to me with a gracious +nod. +</p> + +<p> +“Your fee, Monsieur,” he said, “and allow me to say that never have I paid out +so large a sum with such a willing hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I have done nothing,” I murmured from out the depths of my bewilderment. +</p> + +<p> +Mademoiselle Angèle and Monsieur Fournier looked at one another, and, no doubt, +I presented a very comical spectacle; for both of them burst into an +uncontrollable fit of laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, Monsieur,” quoth Monsieur Fournier as soon as he could speak +coherently, “you have done everything that you set out to do and done it with +perfect chivalry. You conveyed ‘the toys’ safely over the frontier as far as +St. Claude.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how?” I stammered, “how?” +</p> + +<p> +Again Mademoiselle Angèle laughed, and through the ripples of her laughter came +her merry words: +</p> + +<p> +“Maman was very fat, was she not, my good Monsieur Ratichon? Did you not think +she was extraordinarily like me?” +</p> + +<p> +I caught the glance in her eyes, and they were literally glowing with mischief. +Then all of a sudden I understood. She had impersonated a fat mother, covered +her lovely face with lines, worn a disfiguring wig and an antiquated bonnet, +and round her slender figure she had tucked away thousands of packages of +English files. I could only gasp. Astonishment, not to say admiration, at her +pluck literally took my breath away. +</p> + +<p> +“But, Monsieur Berty?” I murmured, my mind in a turmoil, my thoughts running +riot through my brain. “The Englishmen, the mules, the packs?” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Berty, as you see, stands before you now in the person of Monsieur +Fournier,” she replied. “The Englishmen were three faithful servants who threw +dust not only in your eyes, my dear M. Ratichon, but in those of the customs +officials, while the packs contained harmless personal luggage which was taken +by your friend and his gendarmes to the customs station at Mijoux, and there, +after much swearing, equally solemnly released with many apologies to M. +Fournier, who was allowed to proceed unmolested on his way, and who arrived +here safely this afternoon, whilst Maman divested herself of her fat and once +more became the slender Mme. Aristide Fournier, at your service.” +</p> + +<p> +She bobbed me a dainty curtsy, and I could only try and hide the pain which +this last cruel stab had inflicted on my heart. So she was not “Mademoiselle” +after all, and henceforth it would even be wrong to indulge in dreams of her. +</p> + +<p> +But the ten thousand francs crackled pleasantly in my breast pocket, and when I +finally took leave of Monsieur Aristide Fournier and his charming wife, I was +an exceedingly happy man. +</p> + +<p> +But Leroux never forgave me. Of what he suspected me I do not know, or if he +suspected me at all. He certainly must have known about fat Maman from the +customs officials who had given us coffee at Mijoux. +</p> + +<p> +But he never mentioned the subject to me at all, nor has he spoken to me since +that memorable night. To one of his colleagues he once said that no words in +his vocabulary could possibly be adequate to express his feelings. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0006"></a> +CHAPTER VI. — HONOUR AMONG ———</h2> + +<h3>1.</h3> + +<p> +Ah, my dear Sir, it is easy enough to despise our profession, but believe me +that all the finer qualities—those of loyalty and of truth—are +essential, not only to us, but to our subordinates, if we are to succeed in +making even a small competence out of it. +</p> + +<p> +Now let me give you an instance. Here was I, Hector Ratichon, settled in Paris +in that eventful year 1816 which saw the new order of things finally swept +aside and the old order resume its triumphant sway, which saw us all, including +our God-given King Louis XVIII, as poor as the proverbial church mice and as +eager for a bit of comfort and luxury as a hungry dog is for a bone; the year +which saw the army disbanded and hordes of unemployed and unemployable men +wandering disconsolate and half starved through the country seeking in vain for +some means of livelihood, while the Allied troops, well fed and well clothed, +stalked about as if the sacred soil of France was so much dirt under their +feet; the year, my dear Sir, during which more intrigues were hatched and more +plots concocted than in any previous century in the whole history of France. We +were all trying to make money, since there was so precious little of it about. +Those of us who had brains succeeded, and then not always. +</p> + +<p> +Now, I had brains—I do not boast of them; they are a gift from +Heaven—but I had them, and good looks, too, and a general air of +strength, coupled with refinement, which was bound to appeal to anyone needing +help and advice, and willing to pay for both, and yet—but you shall +judge. +</p> + +<p> +You know my office in the Rue Daunou, you have been in it—plainly +furnished; but, as I said, these were not days of luxury. There was an +antechamber, too, where that traitor, blackmailer and thief, Theodore, my +confidential clerk in those days, lodged at my expense and kept importunate +clients at bay for what was undoubtedly a liberal salary—ten per cent, on +all the profits of the business—and yet he was always complaining, the +ungrateful, avaricious brute! +</p> + +<p> +Well, Sir, on that day in September—it was the tenth, I +remember—1816, I must confess that I was feeling exceedingly dejected. +Not one client for the last three weeks, half a franc in my pocket, and nothing +but a small quarter of Strasburg patty in the larder. Theodore had eaten most +of it, and I had just sent him out to buy two sous’ worth of stale bread +wherewith to finish the remainder. But after that? You will admit, Sir, that a +less buoyant spirit would not have remained so long undaunted. +</p> + +<p> +I was just cursing that lout Theodore inwardly, for he had been gone half an +hour, and I strongly suspected him of having spent my two sous on a glass of +absinthe, when there was a ring at the door, and I, Hector Ratichon, the +confidant of kings and intimate counsellor of half the aristocracy in the +kingdom, was forced to go and open the door just like a common lackey. +</p> + +<p> +But here the sight which greeted my eyes fully compensated me for the temporary +humiliation, for on the threshold stood a gentleman who had wealth written +plainly upon his fine clothes, upon the dainty linen at his throat and wrists, +upon the quality of his rich satin necktie and the perfect set of his fine +cloth pantaloons, which were of an exquisite shade of dove-grey. When, then, +the apparition spoke, inquiring with just a sufficiency of aristocratic hauteur +whether M. Hector Ratichon were in, you cannot be surprised, my dear Sir, that +my dejection fell from me like a cast-off mantle and that all my usual urbanity +of manner returned to me as I informed the elegant gentleman that M. Ratichon +was even now standing before him, and begged him to take the trouble to pass +through into my office. +</p> + +<p> +This he did, and I placed a chair in position for him. He sat down, having +previously dusted the chair with a graceful sweep of his lace-edged +handkerchief. Then he raised a gold-rimmed eyeglass to his right eye with a +superlatively elegant gesture, and surveyed me critically for a moment or two +ere he said: +</p> + +<p> +“I am told, my good M. Ratichon, that you are a trustworthy fellow, and one who +is willing to undertake a delicate piece of business for a moderate +honorarium.” +</p> + +<p> +Except for the fact that I did not like the word “moderate,” I was enchanted +with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Rumour for once has not lied, Monsieur,” I replied in my most attractive +manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he rejoined—I won’t say curtly, but with businesslike brevity, +“for all purposes connected with the affair which I desire to treat with you my +name, as far as you are concerned, shall be Jean Duval. Understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly, Monsieur le Marquis,” I replied with a bland smile. +</p> + +<p> +It was a wild guess, but I don’t think that I underestimated my new client’s +rank, for he did not wince. +</p> + +<p> +“You know Mlle. Mars?” he queried. +</p> + +<p> +“The actress?” I replied. “Perfectly.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is playing in <i>Le Rêve</i> at the Theatre Royal just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the first and third acts of the play she wears a gold bracelet set with +large green stones.” +</p> + +<p> +“I noticed it the other night. I had a seat in the parterre, I may say.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want that bracelet,” broke in the soi-disant Jean Duval unceremoniously. +“The stones are false, the gold strass. I admire Mlle. Mars immensely. I +dislike seeing her wearing false jewellery. I wish to have the bracelet copied +in real stones, and to present it to her as a surprise on the occasion of the +twenty-fifth performance of <i>Le Rêve</i>. It will cost me a king’s ransom, +and her, for the time being, an infinite amount of anxiety. She sets great +store by the valueless trinket solely because of the merit of its design, and I +want its disappearance to have every semblance of a theft. All the greater will +be the lovely creature’s pleasure when, at my hands, she will receive an +infinitely precious jewel the exact counterpart in all save its intrinsic value +of the trifle which she had thought lost.” +</p> + +<p> +It all sounded deliciously romantic. A flavour of the past century—before +the endless war and abysmal poverty had killed all chivalry in us—clung +to this proposed transaction. There was nothing of the roturier, nothing of a +Jean Duval, in this polished man of the world who had thought out this subtle +scheme for ingratiating himself in the eyes of his lady fair. +</p> + +<p> +I murmured an appropriate phrase, placing my services entirely at M. le +Marquis’s disposal, and once more he broke in on my polished diction with that +brusquerie which betrayed the man accustomed to be silently obeyed. +</p> + +<p> +“Mlle. Mars wears the bracelet,” he said, “during the third act of <i>Le +Rêve</i>. At the end of the act she enters her dressing-room, and her maid +helps her to change her dress. During this entr’acte Mademoiselle with her own +hands puts by all the jewellery which she has to wear during the more gorgeous +scenes of the play. In the last act—the finale of the tragedy—she +appears in a plain stuff gown, whilst all her jewellery reposes in the small +iron safe in her dressing-room. It is while Mademoiselle is on the stage during +the last act that I want you to enter her dressing-room and to extract the +bracelet out of the safe for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I, M. le Marquis?” I stammered. “I, to steal a—” +</p> + +<p> +“Firstly, M.—er—er—Ratichon, or whatever your confounded name +may be,” interposed my client with inimitable hauteur, “understand that my name +is Jean Duval, and if you forget this again I shall be under the necessity of +laying my cane across your shoulders and incidentally to take my business +elsewhere. Secondly, let me tell you that your affectations of outraged probity +are lost on me, seeing that I know all about the stolen treaty which—” +</p> + +<p> +“Enough, M. Jean Duval,” I said with a dignity equal, if not greater, than his +own; “do not, I pray you, misunderstand me. I am ready to do you service. But +if you will deign to explain how I am to break open an iron safe inside a +crowded building and extract therefrom a trinket, without being caught in the +act and locked up for house-breaking and theft, I shall be eternally your +debtor.” +</p> + +<p> +“The extracting of the trinket is your affair,” he rejoined dryly. “I will give +you five hundred francs if you bring the bracelet to me within fourteen days.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—” I stammered again. +</p> + +<p> +“Your task will not be such a difficult one after all. I will give you the +duplicate key of the safe.” +</p> + +<p> +He dived into the breast pocket of his coat, and drew from it a somewhat large +and clumsy key, which he placed upon my desk. +</p> + +<p> +“I managed to get that easily enough,” he said nonchalantly, “a couple of +nights ago, when I had the honour of visiting Mademoiselle in her +dressing-room. A piece of wax in my hand, Mademoiselle’s momentary absorption +in her reflection while her maid was doing her hair, and the impression of the +original key was in my possession. But between taking a model of the key and +the actual theft of the bracelet out of the safe there is a wide gulf which a +gentleman cannot bridge over. Therefore, I choose to employ you, +M.—er—er—Ratichon, to complete the transaction for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“For five hundred francs?” I queried blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a fair sum,” he argued. +</p> + +<p> +“Make it a thousand,” I rejoined firmly, “and you shall have the bracelet +within fourteen days.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment in order to reflect; his steel-grey eyes, cool and +disdainful, were fixed searchingly on my face. I pride myself on the way that I +bear that kind of scrutiny, so even now I looked bland and withal purposeful +and capable. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” he said, after a few moments, and he rose from his chair as he +spoke; “it shall be a thousand francs, M.—er—er—Ratichon, and +I will hand over the money to you in exchange for the bracelet—but it +must be done within fourteen days, remember.” +</p> + +<p> +I tried to induce him to give me a small sum on account. I was about to take +terrible risks, remember; housebreaking, larceny, theft—call it what you +will, it meant the <i>police correctionelle</i> and a couple of years in New +Orleans for sure. He finally gave me fifty francs, and once more threatened to +take his business elsewhere, so I had to accept and to look as urbane and +dignified as I could. +</p> + +<p> +He was out of the office and about to descend the stairs when a thought struck +me. +</p> + +<p> +“Where and how can I communicate with M. Jean Duval,” I asked, “when my work is +done?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will call here,” he replied, “at ten o’clock of every morning that follows a +performance of <i>Le Rêve</i>. We can complete our transaction then across your +office desk.” +</p> + +<p> +The next moment he was gone. Theodore passed him on the stairs and asked me, +with one of his impertinent leers, whether we had a new client and what we +might expect from him. I shrugged my shoulders. “A new client!” I said +disdainfully. “Bah! Vague promises of a couple of louis for finding out if +Madame his wife sees more of a certain captain of the guards than Monsieur the +husband cares about.” +</p> + +<p> +Theodore sniffed. He always sniffs when financial matters are on the tapis. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything on account?” he queried. +</p> + +<p> +“A paltry ten francs,” I replied, “and I may as well give you your share of it +now.” +</p> + +<p> +I tossed a franc to him across the desk. By the terms of my contract with him, +you understand, he was entitled to ten per cent, of every profit accruing from +the business in lieu of wages, but in this instance do you not think that I was +justified in looking on one franc now, and perhaps twenty when the transaction +was completed, as a more than just honorarium for his share in it? Was I not +taking all the risks in this delicate business? Would it be fair for me to give +him a hundred francs for sitting quietly in the office or sipping absinthe at a +neighbouring bar whilst I risked New Orleans—not to speak of the gallows? +</p> + +<p> +He gave me a strange look as he picked up the silver franc, spat on it for +luck, bit it with his great yellow teeth to ascertain if it were counterfeit or +genuine, and finally slipped it into his pocket, and shuffled out of the office +whistling through his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +An abominably low, deceitful creature, that Theodore, you will see anon. But I +won’t anticipate. +</p> + +<h3>2.</h3> + +<p> +The next performance of <i>Le Rêve</i> was announced for the following evening, +and I started on my campaign. As you may imagine, it did not prove an easy +matter. To obtain access through the stage-door to the back of the theatre was +one thing—a franc to the doorkeeper had done the trick—to mingle +with the scene-shifters, to talk with the supers, to take off my hat with every +form of deep respect to the principals had been equally simple. +</p> + +<p> +I had even succeeded in placing a bouquet on the dressing-table of the great +tragedienne on my second visit to the theatre. Her dressing-room door had been +left ajar during that memorable fourth act which was to see the consummation of +my labours. I had the bouquet in my hand, having brought it expressly for that +purpose. I pushed open the door, and found myself face to face with a young +though somewhat forbidding damsel, who peremptorily demanded what my business +might be. +</p> + +<p> +In order to minimise the risk of subsequent trouble, I had assumed the disguise +of a middle-aged Angliche—red side-whiskers, florid complexion, a +ginger-coloured wig plastered rigidly over the ears towards the temples, high +stock collar, nankeen pantaloons, a patch over one eye and an eyeglass fixed in +the other. My own sainted mother would never have known me. +</p> + +<p> +With becoming diffidence I explained in broken French that my deep though +respectful admiration of Mlle. Mars had prompted me to lay a floral tribute at +her feet. I desired nothing more. +</p> + +<p> +The damsel eyed me coldly, though at the moment I was looking quite my best, +diffident yet courteous, a perfect gentleman of the old regime. Then she took +the bouquet from me and put it down on the dressing-table. +</p> + +<p> +I fancied that she smiled, not unkindly, and I ventured to pass the time of +day. She replied not altogether disapprovingly. She sat down by the +dressing-table and took up some needlework which she had obviously thrown aside +on my arrival. Close by, on the floor, was a solid iron chest with huge +ornamental hinges and a large escutcheon over the lock. It stood about a foot +high and perhaps a couple of feet long. +</p> + +<p> +There was nothing else in the room that suggested a receptacle for jewellery; +this, therefore, was obviously the safe which contained the bracelet. At the +self-same second my eyes alighted on a large and clumsy-looking key which lay +upon the dressing-table, and my hand at once wandered instinctively to the +pocket of my coat and closed convulsively on the duplicate one which the +soi-disant Jean Duval had given me. +</p> + +<p> +I talked eloquently for a while. The damsel answered in monosyllables, but she +sat unmoved at needlework, and after ten minutes or so I was forced to beat a +retreat. +</p> + +<p> +I returned to the charge at the next performance of <i>Le Rêve</i>, this time +with a box of bonbons for the maid instead of the bouquet for the mistress. The +damsel was quite amenable to a little conversation, quite willing that I should +dally in her company. She munched the bonbons and coquetted a little with me. +But she went on stolidly with her needlework, and I could see that nothing +would move her out of that room, where she had obviously been left in charge. +</p> + +<p> +Then I bethought me of Theodore. I realised that I could not carry this affair +through successfully without his help. So I gave him a further five +francs—as I said to him it was out of my own savings—and I assured +him that a certain M. Jean Duval had promised me a couple of hundred francs +when the business which he had entrusted to me was satisfactorily concluded. It +was for this business—so I explained—that I required his help, and +he seemed quite satisfied. +</p> + +<p> +His task was, of course, a very easy one. What a contrast to the risk I was +about to run! Twenty-five francs, my dear Sir, just for knocking at the door of +Mlle. Mars’ dressing-room during the fourth act, whilst I was engaged in +conversation with the attractive guardian of the iron safe, and to say in +well-assumed, breathless tones: +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle Mars has been taken suddenly unwell on the stage. Will her maid +go to her at once?” +</p> + +<p> +It was some little distance from the dressing-room to the wings—down a +flight of ill-lighted stone stairs which demanded cautious ascent and descent. +Theodore had orders to obstruct the maid during her progress as much as he +could without rousing her suspicions. +</p> + +<p> +I reckoned that she would be fully three minutes going, questioning, finding +out that the whole thing was a hoax, and running back to the +dressing-room—three minutes in which to open the chest, extract the +bracelet and, incidentally, anything else of value there might be close to my +hand. Well, I had thought of that eventuality, too; one must think of +everything, you know—that is where genius comes in. Then, if possible, +relock the safe, so that the maid, on her return, would find everything +apparently in order and would not, perhaps, raise the alarm until I was safely +out of the theatre. +</p> + +<p> +It could be done—oh, yes, it could be done—with a minute to spare! +And to-morrow at ten o’clock M. Jean Duval would appear, and I would not part +with the bracelet until a thousand francs had passed from his pocket into mine. +I must get Theodore out of the house, by the way, before the arrival of M. +Duval. +</p> + +<p> +A thousand francs! I had not seen a thousand francs all at once for years. What +a dinner I would have tomorrow! There was a certain little restaurant in the +Rue des Pipots where they concocted a cassolette of goose liver and pork chops +with haricot beans which . . . ! I only tell you that. +</p> + +<p> +How I got through the rest of that day I cannot tell you. The evening found +me—quite an habitué now—behind the stage of the Theatre Royal, +nodding to one or two acquaintances, most of the people looking on me with +grave respect and talking of me as the eccentric milor. I was supposed to be +pining for an introduction to the great tragedienne, who, very exclusive as +usual, had so far given me the cold shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +Ten minutes after the rise of the curtain on the fourth act I was in the +dressing-room, presenting the maid with a gold locket which I had bought from a +cheapjack’s barrow for five and twenty francs—almost the last of the +fifty which I had received from M. Duval on account. The damsel was eyeing the +locket somewhat disdainfully and giving me grudging thanks for it when there +came a hurried knock at the door. The next moment Theodore poked his ugly face +into the room. He, too, had taken the precaution of assuming an excellent +disguise—peaked cap set aslant over one eye, grimy face, the blouse of a +scene-shifter. +</p> + +<p> +“Mlle. Mars,” he gasped breathlessly; “she has been taken ill—on the +stage—very suddenly. She is in the wings—asking for her maid. They +think she will faint.” +</p> + +<p> +The damsel rose, visibly frightened. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll come at once,” she said, and without the slightest flurry she picked up +the key of the safe and slipped it into her pocket. I fancied that she gave me +a look as she did this. Oh, she was a pearl among Abigails! Then she pointed +unceremoniously to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Milor!” was all she said, but of course I understood. I had no idea that +English milors could be thus treated by pert maidens. But what cared I for +social amenities just then? My hand had closed over the duplicate key of the +safe, and I walked out of the room in the wake of the damsel. Theodore had +disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +Once in the passage, the girl started to run. A second or two later I heard the +patter of her high-heeled shoes down the stone stairs. I had not a moment to +lose. +</p> + +<p> +To slip back into the dressing-room was but an instant’s work. The next I was +kneeling in front of the chest. The key fitted the lock accurately; one turn, +and the lid flew open. +</p> + +<p> +The chest was filled with a miscellaneous collection of theatrical properties +all lying loose—showy necklaces, chains, pendants, all of them obviously +false; but lying beneath them, and partially hidden by the meretricious +ornaments, were one or two boxes covered with velvet such as jewellers use. My +keen eyes noted these at once. I was indeed in luck! For the moment, however, +my hand fastened on a leather case which reposed on the top in one corner, and +which very obviously, from its shape, contained a bracelet. My hands did not +tremble, though I was quivering with excitement. I opened the case. There, +indeed, was the bracelet—the large green stones, the magnificent gold +setting, the whole jewel dazzlingly beautiful. If it were real—the +thought flashed through my mind—it would be indeed priceless. I closed +the case and put it on the dressing-table beside me. I had at least another +minute to spare—sixty seconds wherein to dive for those velvet-covered +boxes which— My hand was on one of them when a slight noise caused me +suddenly to turn and to look behind me. It all happened as quickly as a flash +of lightning. I just saw a man disappearing through the door. One glance at the +dressing-table showed me the whole extent of my misfortune. The case containing +the bracelet had gone, and at that precise moment I heard a commotion from the +direction of the stairs and a woman screaming at the top of her voice: “Thief! +Stop thief!” +</p> + +<p> +Then, Sir, I brought upon the perilous situation that presence of mind for +which the name of Hector Ratichon will for ever remain famous. Without a single +flurried movement, I slipped one of the velvet-covered cases which I still had +in my hand into the breast pocket of my coat, I closed down the lid of the iron +chest and locked it with the duplicate key, and I went out of the room, closing +the door behind me. +</p> + +<p> +The passage was dark. The damsel was running up the stairs with a couple of +stage hands behind her. She was explaining to them volubly, and to the +accompaniment of sundry half-hysterical little cries, the infamous hoax to +which she had fallen a victim. You might think, Sir, that here was I caught +like a rat in a trap, and with that velvet-covered case in my breast pocket by +way of damning evidence against me! +</p> + +<p> +Not at all, Sir! Not at all! Not so is Hector Ratichon, the keenest secret +agent France has ever known, the confidant of kings, brought to earth by an +untoward move of fate. Even before the damsel and the stage hands had reached +the top of the stairs and turned into the corridor, which was on my left, I had +slipped round noiselessly to my right and found shelter in a narrow doorway, +where I was screened by the surrounding darkness and by a projection of the +frame. While the three of them made straight for Mademoiselle’s dressing-room, +and spent some considerable time there in uttering varied ejaculations when +they found the place and the chest to all appearances untouched, I slipped out +of my hiding-place, sped rapidly along the corridor, and was soon half-way down +the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Here my habitual composure in the face of danger stood me in good stead. It +enabled me to walk composedly and not too hurriedly through the crowd behind +the scenes—supers, scene-shifters, principals, none of whom seemed to be +aware as yet of the hoax practised on Mademoiselle Mars’ maid; and I reckon +that I was out of the stage door exactly five minutes after Theodore had called +the damsel away. +</p> + +<p> +But I was minus the bracelet, and in my mind there was the firm conviction that +that traitor Theodore had played me one of his abominable tricks. As I said, +the whole thing had occurred as quickly as a flash of lightning, but even so my +keen, experienced eyes had retained the impression of a peaked cap and the +corner of a blue blouse as they disappeared through the dressing-room door. +</p> + +<h3>3.</h3> + +<p> +Tact, wariness and strength were all required, you must admit, in order to deal +with the present delicate situation. I was speeding along the Rue de Richelieu +on my way to my office. My intention was to spend the night there, where I had +a chair-bedstead on which I had oft before slept soundly after a day’s hard +work, and anyhow it was too late to go to my lodgings at Passy at this hour. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, Theodore slept in the antechamber of the office, and I was more +firmly convinced than ever that it was he who had stolen the bracelet. +“Blackleg! Thief! Traitor!” I mused. “But thou hast not done with Hector +Ratichon yet.” +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile I bethought me of the velvet-covered box in my breast pocket, +and of the ginger-coloured hair and whiskers that I was still wearing, and +which might prove an unpleasant “piece de conviction” in case the police were +after the stolen bracelet. +</p> + +<p> +With a view to examining the one and getting rid of the other, I turned into +the Square Louvois, which, as usual, was very dark and wholly deserted. Here I +took off my wig and whiskers and threw them over the railings into the garden. +Then I drew the velvet-covered box from my pocket, opened it, and groped for +its contents. Imagine my feelings, my dear Sir, when I realised that the case +was empty! Fate was indeed against me that night. I had been fooled and cheated +by a traitor, and had risked New Orleans and worse for an empty box. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment I must confess that I lost that imperturbable sang-froid which is +the admiration of all my friends, and with a genuine oath I flung the case over +the railings in the wake of the milor’s hair and whiskers. Then I hurried home. +</p> + +<p> +Theodore had not returned. He did not come in until the small hours of the +morning, and then he was in a state that I can only describe, with your +permission, as hoggish. He could hardly speak. I had him at my mercy. Neither +tact nor wariness was required for the moment. I stripped him to his skin; he +only laughed like an imbecile. His eyes had a horrid squint in them; he was +hideous. I found five francs in one of his pockets, but neither in his clothes +nor on his person did I find the bracelet. +</p> + +<p> +“What have you done with it?” I cried, for by this time I was maddened with +rage. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you are talking about!” he stammered thickly, as he tottered +towards his bed. “Give me back my five francs, you thief!” the brutish creature +finally blurted out ere he fell into a hog-like sleep. +</p> + +<h3>4.</h3> + +<p> +Desperate evils need desperate remedies. I spent the rest of the night thinking +hard. By the time that dawn was breaking my mind was made up. Theodore’s +stertorous breathing assured me that he was still insentient. I was muscular in +those days, and he a meagre, attenuated, drink-sodden creature. I lifted him +out of his bed in the antechamber and carried him into mine in the office. I +found a coil of rope, and strapped him tightly in the chair-bedstead so that he +could not move. I tied a scarf round his mouth so that he could not scream. +Then, at six o’clock, when the humbler eating-houses begin to take down their +shutters, I went out. +</p> + +<p> +I had Theodore’s five francs in my pocket, and I was desperately hungry. I +spent ten sous on a cup of coffee and a plate of fried onions and haricot +beans, and three francs on a savoury pie, highly flavoured with garlic, and a +quarter-bottle of excellent cognac. I drank the coffee and ate the onions and +the beans, and I took the pie and cognac home. +</p> + +<p> +I placed a table close to the chair-bedstead and on it I disposed the pie and +the cognac in such a manner that the moment Theodore woke his eyes were bound +to alight on them. Then I waited. I absolutely ached to have a taste of that +pie myself, it smelt so good, but I waited. +</p> + +<p> +Theodore woke at nine o’clock. He struggled like a fool, but he still appeared +half dazed. No doubt he thought that he was dreaming. Then I sat down on the +edge of the bed and cut myself off a large piece of the pie. I ate it with +marked relish in front of Theodore, whose eyes nearly started out of their +sockets. Then I brewed myself a cup of coffee. The mingled odour of coffee and +garlic filled the room. It was delicious. I thought that Theodore would have a +fit. The veins stood out on his forehead and a kind of gurgle came from behind +the scarf round his mouth. Then I told him he could partake of the pie and +coffee if he told me what he had done with the bracelet. He shook his head +furiously, and I left the pie, the cognac and the coffee on the table before +him and went into the antechamber, closing the office door behind me, and +leaving him to meditate on his treachery. +</p> + +<p> +What I wanted to avoid above everything was the traitor meeting M. Jean Duval. +He had the bracelet—of that I was as convinced as that I was alive. But +what could he do with a piece of false jewellery? He could not dispose of it, +save to a vendor of theatrical properties, who no doubt was well acquainted +with the trinket and would not give more than a couple of francs for what was +obviously stolen property. After all, I had promised Theodore twenty francs; he +would not be such a fool as to sell that birthright for a mess of pottage and +the sole pleasure of doing me a bad turn. +</p> + +<p> +There was no doubt in my mind that he had put the thing away somewhere in what +he considered a safe place pending a reward being offered by Mlle. Mars for the +recovery of the bracelet. The more I thought of this the more convinced I was +that that was, indeed, his proposed plan of action—oh, how I loathed the +blackleg!—and mine henceforth would be to dog his every footstep and +never let him out of my sight until I forced him to disgorge his ill-gotten +booty. +</p> + +<p> +At ten o’clock M. Jean Duval arrived, as was his wont, supercilious and brusque +as usual. I was just explaining to him that I hoped to have excellent news for +him after the next performance of <i>Le Rêve</i> when there was a peremptory +ring at the bell. I went to open the door, and there stood a police inspector +in uniform with a sheaf of papers in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +Now, I am not over-fond of our Paris police; they poke their noses in where +they are least wanted. Their incompetence favours the machinations of rogues +and frustrates the innocent ambitions of the just. However, in this instance +the inspector looked amiable enough, though his manner, I must say, was, as +usual, unpleasantly curt. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, Ratichon,” he said, “there has been an impudent theft of a valuable +bracelet out of Mademoiselle Mars’ dressing-room at the Theatre Royal last +night. You and your mate frequent all sorts of places of ill-fame; you may hear +something of the affair.” +</p> + +<p> +I chose to ignore the insult, and the inspector detached a paper from the sheaf +which he held and threw it across the table to me. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a reward of two thousand five hundred francs,” he said, “for the +recovery of the bracelet. You will find on that paper an accurate description +of the jewel. It contains the celebrated Maroni emerald, presented to the +ex-Emperor by the Sultan, and given by him to Mlle. Mars.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon he turned unceremoniously on his heel and went, leaving me face to +face with the man who had so shamefully tried to swindle me. I turned, and +resting my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand, I looked mutely on the +soi-disant Jean Duval and equally mutely pointed with an accusing finger to the +description of the famous bracelet which he had declared to me was merely +strass and base metal. +</p> + +<p> +But he had the impudence to turn on me before I could utter a syllable. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the bracelet?” he demanded. “You consummate liar, you! Where is it? +You stole it last night! What have you done with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I extracted, at your request,” I replied with as much dignity as I could +command, “a piece of theatrical jewellery, which you stated to me to be +worthless, out of an iron chest, the key of which you placed in my hands. I . . +.” +</p> + +<p> +“Enough of this rubbish!” he broke in roughly. “You have the bracelet. Give it +me now, or . . .” +</p> + +<p> +He broke off and looked somewhat alarmed in the direction of the office door, +from the other side of which there had just come a loud crash, followed by +loud, if unintelligible, vituperation. What had happened I could not guess; all +that I could do was to carry off the situation as boldly as I dared. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall have the bracelet, Sir,” I said in my most suave manner. “You shall +have it, but not unless you will pay me three thousand francs for it. I can get +two thousand five hundred by taking it straight to Mlle. Mars.” +</p> + +<p> +“And be taken up by the police for stealing it,” he retorted. “How will you +explain its being in your possession?” +</p> + +<p> +I did not blanch. +</p> + +<p> +“That is my affair,” I replied. “Will you give me three thousand francs for it? +It is worth sixty thousand francs to a clever thief like you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You hound!” he cried, livid with rage, and raised his cane as if he would +strike me. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, it was cleverly done, M. Jean Duval, whoever you may be. I know that the +gentleman-thief is a modern product of the old regime, but I did not know that +the fraternity could show such a fine specimen as yourself. Pay Hector Ratichon +a thousand francs for stealing a bracelet for you worth sixty! Indeed, M. Jean +Duval, you deserved to succeed!” +</p> + +<p> +Again he shook his cane at me. +</p> + +<p> +“If you touch me,” I declared boldly, “I shall take the bracelet at once to +Mlle. Mars.” +</p> + +<p> +He bit his lip and made a great effort to pull himself together. +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t three thousand francs by me,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Go, fetch the money,” I retorted, “and I’ll fetch the bracelet.” +</p> + +<p> +He demurred for a while, but I was firm, and after he had threatened to thrash +me, to knock me down, and to denounce me to the police, he gave in and went to +fetch the money. +</p> + +<h3>5.</h3> + +<p> +When I remembered Theodore—Theodore, whom only a thin partition wall had +separated from the full knowledge of the value of his ill-gotten +treasure!—I could have torn my hair out by the roots with the magnitude +of my rage. He, the traitor, the blackleg, was about to triumph, where I, +Hector Ratichon, had failed! He had but to take the bracelet to Mlle. Mars +himself and obtain the munificent reward whilst I, after I had taken so many +risks and used all the brains and tact wherewith Nature had endowed me, would +be left with the meagre remnants of the fifty francs which M. Jean Duval had so +grudgingly thrown to me. Twenty-five francs for a gold locket, ten francs for a +bouquet, another ten for bonbons, and five for gratuities to the +stage-doorkeeper! Make the calculation, my good Sir, and see what I had left. +If it had not been for the five francs which I had found in Theodore’s pocket +last night, I would at this moment not only have been breakfastless, but also +absolutely penniless. +</p> + +<p> +As it was, my final hope—and that a meagre one—was to arouse one +spark of honesty in the breast of the arch-traitor, and either by cajolery or +threats, to induce him to share his ill-gotten spoils with me. +</p> + +<p> +I had left him snoring and strapped to the chair-bedstead, and when I opened +the office door I was marvelling in my mind whether I could really bear to see +him dying slowly of starvation with that savoury pie tantalizingly under his +nose. The crash which I had heard a few minutes ago prepared me for a change of +scene. Even so, I confess that the sight which I beheld glued me to the +threshold. There sat Theodore at the table, finishing the last morsel of pie, +whilst the chair-bedstead lay in a tangled heap upon the floor. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot tell you how nasty he was to me about the whole thing, although I +showed myself at once ready to forgive him all his lies and his treachery, and +was at great pains to explain to him how I had given up my own bed and strapped +him into it solely for the benefit of his health, seeing that at the moment he +was threatened with delirium tremens. +</p> + +<p> +He would not listen to reason or to the most elementary dictates of friendship. +Having poured the vials of his bilious temper over my devoted head, he became +as perverse and as obstinate as a mule. With the most consummate impudence I +ever beheld in any human being, he flatly denied all knowledge of the bracelet. +</p> + +<p> +Whilst I talked he stalked past me into the ante-chamber, where he at once +busied himself in collecting all his goods and chattels. These he stuffed into +his pockets until he appeared to be bulging all over his ugly-body; then he +went to the door ready to go out. On the threshold he turned and gave me a +supercilious glance over his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Take note, my good Ratichon,” he said, “that our partnership is dissolved as +from to-morrow, the twentieth day of September.” +</p> + +<p> +“As from this moment, you infernal scoundrel!” I cried. +</p> + +<p> +But he did not pause to listen, and slammed the door in my face. +</p> + +<p> +For two or three minutes I remained quite still, whilst I heard the shuffling +footsteps slowly descending the corridor. Then I followed him, quietly, +surreptitiously, as a fox will follow its prey. He never turned round once, but +obviously he knew that he was being followed. +</p> + +<p> +I will not weary you, my dear Sir, with the details of the dance which he led +me in and about Paris during the whole of that memorable day. Never a morsel +passed my lips from breakfast to long after sundown. He tried every trick known +to the profession to throw me off the scent. But I stuck to him like a leech. +When he sauntered I sauntered; when he ran I ran; when he glued his nose to the +window of an eating house I halted under a doorway close by; when he went to +sleep on a bench in the Luxembourg Gardens I watched over him as a mother over +a babe. +</p> + +<p> +Towards evening—it was an hour after sunset and the street-lamps were +just being lighted—he must have thought that he had at last got rid of +me; for, after looking carefully behind him, he suddenly started to walk much +faster and with an amount of determination which he had lacked hitherto. I +marvelled if he was not making for the Rue Daunou, where was situated the +squalid tavern of ill-fame which he was wont to frequent. I was not mistaken. +</p> + +<p> +I tracked the traitor to the corner of the street, and saw him disappear +beneath the doorway of the Taverne des Trois Tigres. I resolved to follow. I +had money in my pocket—about twenty-five sous—and I was mightily +thirsty. I started to run down the street, when suddenly Theodore came rushing +back out of the tavern, hatless and breathless, and before I succeeded in +dodging him he fell into my arms. +</p> + +<p> +“My money!” he said hoarsely. “I must have my money at once! You thief! You . . +.” +</p> + +<p> +Once again my presence of mind stood me in good stead. +</p> + +<p> +“Pull yourself together, Theodore,” I said with much dignity, “and do not make +a scene in the open street.” +</p> + +<p> +But Theodore was not at all prepared to pull himself together. He was livid +with rage. +</p> + +<p> +“I had five francs in my pocket last night!” he cried. “You have stolen them, +you abominable rascal!” +</p> + +<p> +“And you stole from me a bracelet worth three thousand francs to the firm,” I +retorted. “Give me that bracelet and you shall have your money back.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t,” he blurted out desperately. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you mean, you can’t?” I exclaimed, whilst a horrible fear like an icy +claw suddenly gripped at my heart. “You haven’t lost it, have you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Worse!” he cried, and fell up against me in semi-unconsciousness. +</p> + +<p> +I shook him violently. I bellowed in his ear, and suddenly, after that one +moment of apparent unconsciousness, he became, not only wide awake, but as +strong as a lion and as furious as a bull. We closed in on one another. He +hammered at me with his fists, calling me every kind of injurious name he could +think of, and I had need of all my strength to ward off his attacks. +</p> + +<p> +For a few moments no one took much notice of us. Fracas and quarrels outside +the drinking-houses in the mean streets of Paris were so frequent these days +that the police did not trouble much about them. But after a while Theodore +became so violent that I was forced to call vigorously for help. I thought he +meant to murder me. People came rushing out of the tavern, and someone very +officiously started whistling for the gendarmes. This had the effect of +bringing Theodore to his senses. He calmed down visibly, and before the crowd +had had time to collect round us we had both sauntered off, walking in apparent +amity side by side down the street. +</p> + +<p> +But at the first corner Theodore halted, and this time he confined himself to +gripping me by the arm with one hand whilst with the other he grasped one of +the buttons of my coat. +</p> + +<p> +“That five francs,” he said in a hoarse, half-choked voice. “I must have that +five francs! Can’t you see that I can’t have that bracelet till I have my five +francs wherewith to redeem it?” +</p> + +<p> +“To redeem it!” I gasped. I was indeed glad then that he held me by the arm, +for it seemed to me as if I was falling down a yawning abyss which had opened +at my feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Theodore, and his voice sounded as if it came from a great distance +and through cotton-wool, +</p> + +<p> +“I knew that you would be after that bracelet like a famished hyena after a +bone, so I tied it securely inside the pocket of the blouse I was wearing, and +left this with Legros, the landlord of the Trois Tigres. It was a good blouse; +he lent me five francs on it. Of course, he knew nothing about the bracelet +then. But he only lends money to clients in this manner on the condition that +it is repaid within twenty-four hours. I have got to pay him back before eight +o’clock this evening or he will dispose of the blouse as he thinks best. It is +close on eight o’clock now. Give me back my five francs, you confounded thief, +before Legros has time to discover the bracelet! We’ll share the reward, I +promise you. Faith of an honest man. You liar, you cheat, you—” +</p> + +<p> +What was the use of talking? I had not got five francs. I had spent ten sous in +getting myself some breakfast, and three francs in a savoury pie flavoured with +garlic and in a quarter of a bottle of cognac. I groaned aloud. I had exactly +twenty-five sous left. +</p> + +<p> +We went back to the tavern hoping against hope that Legros had not yet turned +out the pockets of the blouse, and that we might induce him, by threat or +cajolery or the usurious interest of twenty-five sous, to grant his client a +further twenty-four hours wherein to redeem the pledge. +</p> + +<p> +One glance at the interior of the tavern, however, told us that all our hopes +were in vain. Legros, the landlord, was even then turning the blouse over and +over, whilst his hideous hag of a wife was talking to the police inspector, who +was showing her the paper that announced the offer of two thousand five hundred +francs for the recovery of a valuable bracelet, the property of Mlle. Mars, the +distinguished tragedienne. +</p> + +<p> +We only waited one minute with our noses glued against the windows of the Trois +Tigres, just long enough to see Legros extracting the leather case from the +pocket of the blouse, just long enough to hear the police inspector saying +peremptorily: +</p> + +<p> +“You, Legros, ought to be able to let the police know who stole the bracelet. +You must know who left that blouse with you last night.” +</p> + +<p> +Then we both fled incontinently down the street. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Sir, was I not right when I said that honour and loyalty are the essential +qualities in our profession? If Theodore had not been such a liar and such a +traitor, he and I, between us, would have been richer by three thousand francs +that day. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0007"></a> +CHAPTER VII. — AN OVER-SENSITIVE HEART</h2> + +<h3>1.</h3> + +<p> +No doubt, Sir, that you have noticed during the course of our conversations +that Nature has endowed me with an over-sensitive heart. I feel keenly, Sir, +very keenly. Blows dealt me by Fate, or, as has been more often the case, by +the cruel and treacherous hand of man, touch me on the raw. I suffer acutely. I +am highly strung. I am one of those rare beings whom Nature pre-ordained for +love and for happiness. I am an ideal family man. +</p> + +<p> +What? You did not know that I was married? Indeed, Sir, I am. And though Madame +Ratichon does not perhaps fulfil all my ideals of exquisite womanhood, +nevertheless she has been an able and willing helpmate during these last years +of comparative prosperity. Yes, you see me fairly prosperous now. My industry, +my genius—if I may so express myself—found their reward at last. +You will be the first to acknowledge—you, the confidant of my life’s +history—that that reward was fully deserved. I worked for it, toiled and +thought and struggled, up to the last; and had Fate been just, rather than +grudging, I should have attained that ideal which would have filled my cup of +happiness to the brim. +</p> + +<p> +But, anyway, the episode connected with my marriage did mark the close of my +professional career, and is therefore worthy of record. Since that day, +Sir—a happy one for me, a blissful one for Mme. Ratichon—I have +been able, thanks to the foresight of an all-wise Providence, to gratify my +bucolic tastes. I live now, Sir, amidst my flowers, with my dog and my canary +and Mme. Ratichon, smiling with kindly indulgence on the struggles and the +blunders of my younger colleagues, oft consulted by them in matters that +require special tact and discretion. I sit and dream now beneath the shade of a +vine-clad arbour of those glorious days of long ago, when kings and emperors +placed the destiny of their inheritance in my hands, when autocrats and +dictators came to me for assistance and advice, and the name of Hector Ratichon +stood for everything that was most astute and most discreet. And if at times a +gentle sigh of regret escapes my lips, Mme. Ratichon—whose thinness is +ever my despair, for I admire comeliness, Sir, as being more womanly—Mme. +Ratichon, I say, comes to me with the gladsome news that dinner is served; and +though she is not all that I could wish in the matter of the culinary arts, yet +she can fry a cutlet passably, and one of her brothers is a wholesale wine +merchant of excellent reputation. +</p> + +<p> +It was soon after my connexion with that abominable Marquis de Firmin-Latour +that I first made the acquaintance of the present Mme. Ratichon, under somewhat +peculiar circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +I remember it was on the first day of April in the year 1817 that M. +Rochez—Fernand Rochez was his exact name—came to see me at my +office in the Rue Daunou, and the date proved propitious, as you will presently +see. How M. Rochez came to know of my gifts and powers, I cannot tell you. He +never would say. He had heard of me through a friend, was all that he +vouchsafed to say. +</p> + +<p> +Theodore had shown him in. Ah! have I not mentioned the fact that I had +forgiven Theodore his lies and his treachery, and taken him back to my bosom +and to my board? My sensitive heart had again got the better of my prudence, +and Theodore was installed once more in the antechamber of my apartments in the +Rue Daunou, and was, as heretofore, sharing with me all the good things that I +could afford. So there he was on duty on that fateful first of April which was +destined to be the turning-point of my destiny. And he showed M. de Rochez in. +</p> + +<p> +At once I knew my man—the type, I mean. Immaculately dressed, scented and +befrilled, haughty of manner and nonchalant of speech, M. Rochez had the word +“adventurer” writ all over his well-groomed person. He was young, good-looking, +his nails were beautifully polished, his pantaloons fitted him without a +wrinkle. These were of a soft putty shade; his coat was bottle-green, and his +hat of the latest modish shape. A perfect exquisite, in fact. +</p> + +<p> +And he came to the point without much preamble. +</p> + +<p> +“M.—er—Ratichon,” he said, “I have heard of you through a friend, +who tells me that you are the most unscrupulous scoundrel he has ever come +across.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir—!” I began, rising from my seat in indignant protest at the coarse +insult. But with an authoritative gesture he checked the flow of my +indignation. +</p> + +<p> +“No comedy, I pray you, Sir,” he said. “We are not at the Theatre Molière, but, +I presume, in an office where business is transacted both briefly and with +discretion.” +</p> + +<p> +“At your service, Monsieur,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Then listen, will you?” he went on curtly, “and pray do not interrupt. Only +speak in answer to a question from me.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed my head in silence. Thus must the proud suffer when they happen to be +sparsely endowed with riches. +</p> + +<p> +“You have no doubt heard of Mlle. Goldberg,” M. Rochez continued after a +moment’s pause, “the lovely daughter of the rich usurer in the Rue des +Médecins.” +</p> + +<p> +I had heard of Mlle. Goldberg. Her beauty and her father’s wealth were reported +to be fabulous. I indicated my knowledge of the beautiful lady by a mute +inclination of the head. +</p> + +<p> +“I love Mlle. Goldberg,” my client resumed, “and I have reason for the belief +that I am not altogether indifferent to her. Glances, you understand, from eyes +as expressive as those of the exquisite Jewess speak more eloquently than +words.” +</p> + +<p> +He had forbidden me to speak, so I could only express concurrence in the +sentiments which he expressed by a slight elevation of my left eyebrow. +</p> + +<p> +“I am determined to win the affections of Mlle. Goldberg,” M. Rochez went on +glibly, “and equally am I determined to make her my wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“A very natural determination,” I remarked involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +“My only trouble with regard to pressing my court is the fact that my lovely +Leah is never allowed outside her father’s house, save in his company or that +of his sister—an old maid of dour mien and sour disposition, who acts the +part of a duenna with dog-like tenacity. Over and over again have I tried to +approach the lady of my heart, only to be repelled or roughly rebuked for my +insolence by her irascible old aunt.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are not the first lover, Sir,” I remarked drily, “who hath seen obstacles +thus thrown in his way, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, M.—er—Ratichon,” he broke in sharply. “I have not +finished. I will not attempt to describe my feelings to you. I have been +writhing—yes, writhing!—in face of those obstacles of which you +speak so lightly, and for a long time I have been cudgelling my brains as to +the possible means whereby I might approach my divinity unchecked. Then one day +I bethought me of you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Of me, Sir?” I ejaculated, sorely puzzled. “Why of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“None of my friends,” he replied nonchalantly, “would care to undertake so +scrubby a task as I would assign to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I pray you to be more explicit,” I retorted with unimpaired dignity. +</p> + +<p> +Once more he paused. Obviously he was a born mountebank, and he calculated all +his effects to a nicety. +</p> + +<p> +“You, M.—er—Ratichon,” he said curtly at last, “will have to take +the duenna off my hands.” +</p> + +<p> +I was beginning to understand. So I let him prattle on the while my busy brain +was already at work evolving the means to render this man service, which in its +turn I expected to be amply repaid. Thus I cannot repeat exactly all that he +said, for I was only listening with half an ear. But the substance of it all +was this: I was to pose as the friend of M. Fernand Rochez, and engage the +attention of Mlle. Goldberg senior the while he paid his court to the lovely +Leah. It was not a repellent task altogether, because M. Rochez’s suggestion +opened a vista of pleasant parties at open-air cafés, with foaming tankards of +beer, on warm afternoons the while the young people sipped sirops and fed on +love. My newly found friend was pleased to admit that my personality and +appearance would render my courtship of the elderly duenna a comparatively easy +one. She would soon, he declared, fall a victim to my charms. +</p> + +<p> +After which the question of remuneration came in, and over this we did not +altogether agree. Ultimately I decided to accept an advance of two hundred +francs and a new suit of clothes, which I at once declared was indispensable +under the circumstances, seeing that in my well-worn coat I might have the +appearance of a fortune-hunter in the eyes of the suspicious old dame. +</p> + +<p> +Within my mind I envisaged the possibility of touching M. Rochez for a further +two hundred francs if and when opportunity arose. +</p> + +<h3>2.</h3> + +<p> +The formal introduction took place on the boulevards one fine afternoon shortly +after that. Mlle. Leah was walking under the trees with her duenna when +we—M. Rochez and I—came face to face with them. My friend raised +his hat, and I did likewise. Mademoiselle Leah blushed and the ogre frowned. +Sir, she was an ogre!—bony and angular and hook-nosed, with thin lips +that closed with a snap, and cold grey eyes that sent a shiver down your spine! +Rochez introduced me to her, and I made myself exceedingly agreeable to her, +while my friend succeeded in exchanging two or three whispered words with his +inamorata. +</p> + +<p> +But we did not get very far that day. Mlle. Goldberg senior soon marched her +lovely charge away. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, Sir, she was lovely indeed! And in my heart I not only envied Rochez his +good fortune but I also felt how entirely unworthy he was of it. Nor did the +beautiful Leah give me the impression of being quite so deeply struck with his +charms as he would have had me believe. Indeed, it struck me during those few +minutes that I stood dutifully talking to her duenna that the fair young Jewess +cast more than one approving glance in my direction. +</p> + +<p> +Be that as it may, the progress of our respective courtships, now that the ice +was broken, took on a more decided turn. At first it only amounted to meetings +on the boulevards and a cursory greeting, but soon Mlle. Goldberg senior, +delighted with my conversation, would deliberately turn to walk with me under +the trees the while Fernand Rochez followed by the side of his adored. A week +later the ladies accepted my friend’s offer to sit under the awning of the Café +Bourbon and to sip sirops, whilst we indulged in tankards of foaming “blondes.” +</p> + +<p> +Within a fortnight, Sir—I may say it without boasting—I had Mlle. +Goldberg senior in the hollow of my hand. On the boulevards, as soon as she +caught sight of me, her dour face would be wreathed in smiles, a row of large +yellow teeth would appear between her thin lips, and her cold, grey eyes would +soften with a glance of welcome which more than ever sent a cold shudder down +my spine. While we four were together, either promenading or sitting at +open-air cafés in the cool of the evening, the old duenna had eyes and ears +only for me, and if my friend Rochez did not get on with his own courtship as +fast as he would have wished the fault rested entirely with him. +</p> + +<p> +For he did <i>not</i> get on with his courtship, and that was a fact. The fair +Leah was very sweet, very coy, greatly amused, I fancy, at her aunt’s obvious +infatuation for me, and not a little flattered at the handsome M. Rochez’s +attentions to herself. But there it all ended. And whenever I questioned Rochez +on the subject, he flew into a temper and consigned all middle-aged Jewesses to +perdition, and all the lovely and young ones to a comfortable kind of Hades to +which he alone amongst the male sex would have access. From which I gathered +that I was not wrong in my surmises, that the fair Leah had been smitten by my +personality and my appearance rather than by those of my friend, and that he +was suffering the pangs of an insane jealousy. +</p> + +<p> +This, of course, he never would admit. All that he told me one day was that +Leah, with the characteristic timidity of her race, refused to marry him unless +she could obtain her father’s consent to the union. Old Goldberg, duly +approached on the matter, flatly forbade his daughter to have anything further +to do with that fortune-hunter, that parasite, that beggarly +pick-thank—such, Sir, were but a few complimentary epithets which he +hurled with great volubility at his daughter’s absent suitor. +</p> + +<p> +It was from Mlle. Goldberg, senior, that my friend and I had the details of +that stormy interview between father and daughter; after which, she declared +that interviews between the lovers would necessarily become very difficult of +arrangement. From which you will gather that the worthy soul, though she was as +ugly as sin, was by this time on the side of the angels. Indeed, she was more +than that. She professed herself willing to aid and abet them in every way she +could. This Rochez confided to me, together with his assurance that he was +determined to take his Fate into his own hands and, since the beautiful Leah +would not come to him of her own accord, to carry her off by force. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, my dear Sir, those were romantic days, you must remember! Days when men +placed the possession of the woman they loved above every treasure, every +consideration upon earth. Ah, romance! Romance, Sir, was the breath of our +nostrils, the blood in our veins! Imagine how readily we all fell in with my +friend’s plans. I, of course, was the moving spirit in it all; mine was the +genius which was destined to turn gilded romance into grim reality. Yes, grim! +For you shall see! . . . +</p> + +<p> +Mlle. Goldberg, senior, who appropriately enough was named Sarah, gave us the +clue how to proceed, after which my genius worked alone. +</p> + +<p> +You must know that old Goldberg’s house in the Rue des Médecins—a large +apartment house in which he occupied a few rooms on the ground floor behind his +shop—backed on to a small uncultivated garden which ended in a tall brick +wall, the meeting-place of all the felines in the neighbourhood, and in which +there was a small postern gate, now disused. This gate gave on a narrow +cul-de-sac—grandiloquently named Passage Corneille—which was +flanked on the opposite side by the tall boundary wall of an adjacent convent. +</p> + +<p> +That cul-de-sac was marked out from the very first in my mind as our objective. +Around and about it, as it were, did I build the edifice of my schemes, aided +by the ever-willing Sarah. The old maid threw herself into the affair with +zest, planning and contriving like a veritable strategist; and I must admit +that she was full of resource and invention. We were now in mid-May and +enjoying a spell of hot summer weather. This gave the inventive Sarah the +excuse for using the back garden as a place wherein to sit in the cool of the +evening in the company of her niece. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, you see the whole thing now at a glance, do you not? The postern gate, the +murky night, the daring lover, the struggling maiden, the willing accomplices. +The actors were all there, ready for the curtain to be rung up on the +palpitating drama. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that a brilliant idea came into my brain. It was born on the very +day that I realized with indisputable certainty that the lovely Leah was not in +reality in love with Rochez. He fatuously believed that she was ready to fall +into his arms, that only maidenly timidity held her back, and that the moment +she had been snatched from her father’s house and found herself in the arms of +her adoring lover, she would turn to him in the very fullness of love and +confidence. +</p> + +<p> +But I knew better. I had caught a look now and again—an undefinable +glance, which told me the whole pitiable tale. She did not love Rochez; and in +the drama which we were preparing to enact the curtain would fall on his +rapture and her unhappiness. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, Sir! imagine what my feelings were when I realized this! This fair girl, +against whom we were all conspiring like so many traitors, was still ignorant +of the fatal brink on which she stood. She chatted and coquetted and smiled, +little dreaming that in a very few days her happiness would be wrecked and she +would be linked for life to a man whom she could never love. Rochez’s idea, of +course, was primarily to get hold of her fortune. I had already ascertained for +him, through the ever-willing Sarah, that this fortune came from Leah’s +grandfather, who had left a sum of two hundred thousand francs on trust for her +children, she to enjoy the income for her life. There certainly was a clause in +the will whereby the girl would forfeit that fortune if she married without her +father’s consent; but according to Rochez’s plans this could scarcely be +withheld once she had been taken forcibly away from home, held in durance, and +with her reputation hopelessly compromised. She could then pose as an injured +victim, throw herself at her father’s feet, and beg him to give that consent +without which she would for ever remain an outcast of society, a pariah amongst +her kind. +</p> + +<p> +A pretty piece of villainous combination, you will own! And I, Sir, was to lend +a hand in this abomination!—nay, I was to be the chief villain in the +drama! It was I who, even now, was spending the hours of the night, when I +might have been dreaming sentimental dreams, in oiling the lock of the postern +gate which was to give us access into papa Goldberg’s garden. It was I who, +under cover of darkness and guided by that old jade Sarah, was to sneak into +that garden on the appointed night and forcibly seize the unsuspecting maiden +and carry her to the carriage which Rochez would have in readiness for her. +</p> + +<p> +You see what a coward he was! It was a criminal offence in those days, +punishable with deportation to New Caledonia, to abduct a young lady from her +parents’ house; and Rochez left me the dirty work to do in case the girl +screamed and attracted the police. Now you will tell me if I was not justified +in doing what I did, and I will abide by your judgment. +</p> + +<p> +I was to take all the risks, remember!—New Caledonia, the police, the +odium attached to so foul a deed; and do you know for what? For a paltry +thousand francs, which with much difficulty I had induced Rochez—nay, +forced him!—to hand over to me in anticipation of what I was about to +accomplish for his sake. A thousand francs! Did this miserliness not +characterize the man? Was it to such a scrubby knave that I, at risk of my life +and of my honour, would hand over that jewel amongst women, that pearl above +price?—a lady with a personal fortune amounting to two hundred thousand +francs? +</p> + +<p> +No, Sir; I would not! Then and there I vowed that I would not! Mine were to be +all the risks; then mine should be the reward! What Rochez meant to do, that I +could too, and with far greater reason. The lovely Leah did at times frown on +Fernand; but she invariably smiled on me. She would fall into my arms far more +readily than into his, and papa Goldberg would be equally forced to give his +consent to her marriage with me as with that self-seeking carpet-knight whom he +abhorred. +</p> + +<p> +Needless to say, I kept my own counsel, and did not speak of my project even to +Sarah. To all appearances I was to be the mere tool in this affair, the +unfortunate cat employed to snatch the roast chestnuts out of the fire for the +gratification of a mealy-mouthed monkey. +</p> + +<h3>3.</h3> + +<p> +The appointed day and hour were at hand. Fernand Rochez had engaged a barouche +which was to take him and his lovely victim to a little house at Auteuil, which +he had rented for the purpose. There the lovers were to lie perdu until such +time as papa Goldberg had relented and the marriage could be duly solemnized in +the synagogue of the Rue des Halles. Sarah had offered in the meanwhile to do +all that in her power lay to soften the old man’s heart and to bring about the +happy conclusion of the romantic adventure. +</p> + +<p> +For the latter we had chosen the night of May 23rd. It was a moonless night, +and the Passage Corneille, from whence I was to operate, was most usefully +dark. Sarah Goldberg had, according to convention, left the postern gate on the +latch, and at ten o’clock precisely I made my way up the cul-de-sac and +cautiously turned the handle of the door. I confess that my heart beat somewhat +uncomfortably in my bosom. +</p> + +<p> +I had left Rochez and his barouche in the Rue des Pipots, about a hundred +metres from the angle of the Passage Corneille, and it was along those hundred +metres of a not altogether unfrequented street that he expected me presently to +carry a possibly screaming and struggling burden in the very teeth of a +gendarmerie always on the look-out for exciting captures. +</p> + +<p> +No, Sir; that was not to be! And it was with a resolute if beating heart that I +presently felt the postern gate yielding to the pressure of my hand. The +neighbouring church clock of St. Sulpice had just finished striking ten. I +pushed open the gate and tip-toed across the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +In the garden the boughs of a dilapidated old ash tree were soughing in the +wind above my head, whilst from the top of the boundary wall the yarring and +yowling of beasts of the feline species grated unpleasantly on my ear. I could +not see my hand before my eyes, and had just stretched it out in order to guide +my footsteps when it was seized with a kindly yet firm pressure, whilst a voice +murmured softly: +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it?” I whispered in response. +</p> + +<p> +“It is I—Sarah!” the voice replied. “Everything is all right, but Leah is +unsuspecting. I am sure that if she suspected anything she would not set foot +outside the door.” +</p> + +<p> +“What shall we do?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait here a moment quietly,” Sarah rejoined, speaking in a rapid whisper, +“under cover of this wall. Within the next few minutes Leah will come out of +the house. I have left my knitting upon a garden chair, and I will ask her to +run out and fetch it. That will be your opportunity. The chair is in the angle +of the wall, there,” she added, pointing to her right, “not three paces from +where you are standing now. Leah has a white dress on. She will have to stoop +in order to pick up the knitting. I have taken the precaution to entangle the +wool in the leg of the chair, so she will be some few seconds entirely at your +mercy. Have you a shawl?” +</p> + +<p> +I had, of course, provided myself with one. A shawl is always a necessary +adjunct to such adventures. Breathlessly, silently, I intimated to my kind +accomplice that I would obey her behests and that I was prepared for every +eventuality. The next moment her hold upon my hand relaxed, she gave another +quickly-whispered “Hush!” and disappeared into the night. +</p> + +<p> +For a second or two after that my ear caught the soft sound of her retreating +footsteps, then nothing more. To say that I felt anxious and ill at ease was +but to put it mildly. I was face to face with an adventure which might cost me +at least five years’ acute discomfort in New Caledonia, but which might also +bring me as rich a reward as could befall any man of modest ambitions: a lovely +wife and a comfortable fortune. My whole life seemed to be hanging on a thread, +and my overwrought senses seemed almost to catch the sound of the +spinning-wheel of Fate weaving the web of my destiny. +</p> + +<p> +A moment or two later I again caught the distinct sound of a gentle footfall +upon the soft earth. My eyes by now were somewhat accustomed to the gloom. It +was very dark, you understand; but through the darkness I saw something white +moving slowly toward me. Then my heart thumped more furiously than ever before. +I dared not breathe. I saw the lovely Leah approaching, or, rather, I felt her +approach, for it was too dark to see. She moved in the direction which Sarah +had indicated to me as being the place where stood the garden chair with the +knitting upon it. I grasped the shawl. I was ready. +</p> + +<p> +Another few seconds of agonising suspense went by. The fair Leah had ceased to +move. Undoubtedly she was engaged in disentangling the wool from the leg of the +chair. That was my opportunity. More stealthy than any cat, I tiptoed toward +the chair—and, indeed, at that moment I blessed the sudden yowl set up by +some feline in its wrath which rent the still night air and effectually drowned +any sound which I might make. +</p> + +<p> +There, not three paces away from me, was the dim outline of the young girl’s +form vaguely discernible in the gloom—a white mass, almost motionless, +against a background of inky blackness. With a quick intaking of my breath I +sprang forward, the shawl outspread in my hand, and with a quick dexterous +gesture I threw it over her head, and the next second had her, faintly +struggling, in my arms. She was as light as a feather, and I was as strong as a +giant. Think of it, Sir! There was I, alone in the darkness, holding in my +arms, together with a lovely form, a fortune of two hundred thousand francs! +</p> + +<p> +Of that fool Fernand Rochez I did not trouble to think. He had a barouche +waiting <i>up</i> the Rue des Pipots, a hundred metres from the corner of the +Passage Corneille, but I had a chaise and pair of horses waiting <i>down</i> +that same street, and that now was my objective. Yes, Sir! I had arranged the +whole thing! But I had done it for mine own advantage, not for that of the +miserly friend who had been too great a coward to risk his own skin for the +sake of his beloved. +</p> + +<p> +The guerdon was mine, and I was determined this time that no traitor or ingrate +should filch from me the reward of my labours. With the thousand francs which +Rochez had given me for my services I had engaged the chaise and horses, paid +the coachman lavishly, and secured a cosy little apartment for my future wife +in a pleasant hostelry I knew of at Suresnes. +</p> + +<p> +I had taken the precaution to leave the wicket-gate on the latch. With my foot +I pushed it open, and, keeping well under the cover of the tall convent wall, I +ran swiftly to the corner of the Rue des Pipots. Here I paused a moment. +Through the silence of the night my ear caught the faint sound of horses +snorting and harness jingling in the distance, both sides from where I stood; +but of gendarmes or passers-by there was no sign. Gathering up the full measure +of my courage and holding my precious burden closer to my heart, I ran quickly +down the street. +</p> + +<p> +Within the next few seconds I had the seemingly inanimate maiden safely +deposited in the inside of the barouche and myself sitting by her side. The +driver cracked his whip, and whilst I, happy but exhausted, was mopping my +streaming forehead the chaise rattled gaily along the uneven pavements of the +great city in the direction of Suresnes. +</p> + +<p> +What that fool Rochez was doing I could not definitely ascertain. I looked +through the vasistas of the coach, but could see nothing in pursuit of us. Then +I turned my full attention to my lovely companion. It was pitch dark inside the +carriage, you understand; only from time to time, as we drove past an +overhanging street lanthorn, I caught a glimpse of that priceless bundle beside +me, which lay there so still and so snug, still wrapped up in the shawl. +</p> + +<p> +With cautious, loving fingers I undid its folds. Under cover of the darkness +the sweet and modest creature, released of her bonds, turned for an instant to +me, and for a few, very few, happy seconds I held her in my arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Have no fear, fair one,” I murmured in her ear. “It is I, Hector Ratichon, who +adores you and who cannot live without you! Forgive me for this seeming +violence, which was prompted by an undying passion, and remember that to me you +are as sacred as a divinity until the happy hour when I can proclaim you to the +world as my beloved wife!” +</p> + +<p> +I pressed her against my heart, and my lips imprinted a delicate kiss upon her +forehead. After which, with chaste decorum, she once more turned away from me, +covered her face and head with the shawl, and drew back into the remote corner +of the carriage, where she remained, silent and absorbed, no doubt, in the +contemplation of her happiness. +</p> + +<p> +I respected her silence, and I, too, fell to meditating upon my good fortune. +Here was I, Sir, within sight of a haven wherein I could live through the +twilight of my days in comfort and in peace, a beautiful young wife, a modest +fortune! I had never in my wildest dreams envisaged a Fate more fair. The +little house at Chantilly which I coveted, the plot of garden, the espalier +peaches—all, all would be mine now! It seemed indeed too good to be true! +</p> + +<p> +The very next moment I was rudely awakened from those golden dreams by a loud +clatter, and stern voices shouting the ominous word, “Halt!” The carriage drew +up with such a jerk that I was flung off my seat against the front window and +my nose seriously bruised. A faint cry of terror came from the precious bundle +beside me. +</p> + +<p> +“Have no fear, my beloved,” I whispered hurriedly. “Your own Hector will +protect you!” +</p> + +<p> +Already the door of the carriage had been violently torn open; the next moment +a gruff voice called out peremptorily: +</p> + +<p> +“By order of the Chief Commissary of Police!” +</p> + +<p> +I was dumbfounded. In what manner had the Chief Commissary of Police been +already apprised of this affair? The whole thing was, of course, a swift and +vengeful blow dealt to me by that cowardly Rochez. But how, in the name of +thunder, had he got to work so quickly? But, of course, there was no time now +for reflection. The gruff voice was going on more peremptorily and more +insistently: +</p> + +<p> +“Is Hector Ratichon here?” +</p> + +<p> +I was dumb. My throat had closed up, and I could not have uttered a sound to +save my life. The police had even got my name quite straight! +</p> + +<p> +“Now then, Ratichon,” that same irascible voice continued, “get out of there! +In the name of the law I charge you with the abduction of a defenceless female, +and my orders are to bring you forthwith before the Chief Commissary of +Police.” +</p> + +<p> +Then it was, Sir, that bliss once more re-entered my soul. I had just felt a +small hand pressing something crisp into mine, whilst a soft voice whispered in +my ear: +</p> + +<p> +“Give him this, and tell him to let you go in peace. Say that I am Mademoiselle +Goldberg, your promised wife.” +</p> + +<p> +The feel of that crackling note in my hand at once restored my courage. +Covering the lovely creature beside me with a protecting arm, I replied boldly +to the minion of the law. +</p> + +<p> +“This lady,” I said, “is my affianced wife. You, Sir Gendarme, are overstepping +your powers. I demand that you let us proceed in peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“My orders are—” the gendarme resumed; but already my sensitive ear had +detected a faint wavering in the gruffness of his voice. The hectoring tone had +gone out of it. I could not see him, of course, but somehow I felt that his +attitude had become less arrogant and his glance more shifty. +</p> + +<p> +“This gentleman has spoken the truth,” now came in soft, dulcet tones from +under the shawl that wrapped the head of my beloved. “I am Mlle. Goldberg, M. +le Gendarme, and I am travelling with M. Hector Ratichon entirely of my own +free will, since I have promised him that I would be his wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” the gendarme ejaculated, obviously mollified. +</p> + +<p> +“If Mademoiselle is the fiancée of Monsieur, and is acting of her own free +will—” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not for you to interfere, eh, my friend?” I broke in jocosely. “You will +now let us proceed in peace, and for your trouble you will no doubt accept this +token of my consideration.” And, groping in the darkness, I found the rough +hand of the gendarme, and speedily pressed into it the crisp note which my +adored one had given to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” he said, with very obvious gratification. “If Monsieur Ratichon will +assure me that Mademoiselle here is indeed his affianced wife, then indeed it +is not a case of abduction, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Abduction!” I retorted, flaring up in righteous indignation. “Who dares to use +the word in connexion with this lovely lady? Mademoiselle Goldberg, I swear, +will be Madame Ratichon within the next four and twenty hours. And the sooner +you, Sir Gendarme, allow us to proceed on our way the less pain will you cause +to this distressed and virtuous damsel.” +</p> + +<p> +This settled the whole affair quite comfortably. The gendarme shut the carriage +door with a bang, and at my request gave the order to the driver to proceed. +The latter once again cracked his whip, and once again the cumbrous vehicle, +after an awkward lurch, rattled on its way along the cobblestones of the +sleeping city. +</p> + +<p> +Once more I was alone with the priceless treasure by my side—alone and +happy—more happy, I might say, than I had been before. Had not my adored +one openly acknowledged her love for me and her desire to stand with me at the +hymeneal altar? To put it vulgarly—though vulgarity in every form is +repellent to me—she had burnt her boats. She had allowed her name to be +coupled with mine in the presence of the minions of the law. What, after that, +could her father do but give his consent to a union which alone would save his +only child’s reputation from the cruelty of waggish tongues? +</p> + +<p> +No doubt, Sir, that I was happy. True, that when the uncouth gendarme finally +slammed to the door of our carriage and we restarted on our way, my ears had +been unpleasantly tickled by the sound of prolonged and ribald +laughter—laughter which sounded strangely and unpleasantly familiar. But +after a few seconds’ serious reflection I dismissed the matter from my +thoughts. If, as indeed I gravely suspected, it was Fernand Rochez who had +striven thus to put a spoke in the wheel of my good fortune, he would certainly +not have laughed when I drove triumphantly away with my conquered bride by my +side. And, of course, my ears <i>must</i> have deceived me when they caught the +sound of a girl’s merry laugh mingling with the more ribald one of the man. +</p> + +<h3>4.</h3> + +<p> +I have paused purposely, Sir, ere I embark upon the narration of the final +stage of this, my life’s adventure. +</p> + +<p> +The chaise was bowling along the banks of the river toward Suresnes. Presently +the driver struck to his right and plunged into the fastnesses of the Bois de +Boulogne. For a while, therefore, we were in utter darkness. My lovely +companion neither moved nor spoke. Somewhere in the far distance a church clock +struck eleven. One whole hour had gone by since first I had embarked on this +great undertaking. +</p> + +<p> +I was excited, feverish. The beautiful Leah’s silence and tranquillity grated +upon my nerves. I could not understand how she could remain there so placid +when her whole life’s happiness had so suddenly, so unexpectedly, been assured. +I became more and more fidgety as time went on. Soon I felt that I could no +longer hold myself in proper control. Being of an impulsive disposition, this +tranquil acceptance of so great a joy became presently intolerable, and, unable +to restrain my ardour any longer, I seized that passive bundle of loveliness in +my arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Have no fear,” I murmured once again, as I pressed her to my heart. +</p> + +<p> +But my admonition was obviously unnecessary. The beautiful Leah showed not the +slightest sign of fear. She rested her head against my shoulder and put one arm +around my neck. I was in raptures. +</p> + +<p> +Just then the vehicle swung out of the Bois and once more rattled upon the +cobblestones. This time we were nearing Suresnes. A vague light, emanating from +the lanthorns at the bridge-head, was already faintly visible ahead of us. Soon +it grew brighter. The next moment we passed immediately beneath the lanthorns. +The interior of the carriage was flooded with light . . . and, Sir, I gave a +gasp of unadulterated dismay! The being whom I held in my arms, whose face was +even at that moment raised up to my own, was not the lovely Leah! It was Sarah, +Sir! Sarah Goldberg, the dour, angular aunt, whose yellow teeth gleamed for one +brief moment through her thin lips as she threw me one of those glances of +amorous welcome which invariably sent a cold shiver down my spine. Sarah +Goldberg! I scarce could believe my eyes, and for a moment did indeed think +that the elusive, swiftly-vanished light of the bridge-head lanthorns had +played my excited senses a weird and cruel trick. But no! The very next second +proved my disillusionment. Sarah spoke to me! +</p> + +<p> +She spoke to me and laughed! Ah, she was happy, Sir! Happy in that she had +completely and irrevocably tricked me! That traitor Fernand Rochez was up to +the neck in the plot which had saddled me for ever with an ugly, elderly wife +of dour mien and no fortune, while he and the lovely Leah were spinning the +threads of perfect love at the other end of Paris and laughing their fill at my +discomfiture. Think, Sir, what I suffered during those few brief minutes while +the coach lurched through the narrow streets of Suresnes, and I had perforce to +listen to the protestations of undying love from this unprepossessing female! +</p> + +<p> +That love, she vowed, was her excuse, and everything, she asserted, was fair in +love and war. She knew that after Rochez had attained his heart’s desire and +carried off the lady of his choice—which he had successfully done half an +hour before I myself made my way up the Passage Corneille—I would pass +out of her life for ever. This she could not endure. Life at once would become +intolerable. And, aided and abetted by Rochez and Leah, she had planned and +contrived my mystification and won me by foul means, since she could not do so +by fair; and it seemed as if her volubility then was the forecast of what my +life with her would be in the future. Talk! Talk! Talk! She never ceased! +</p> + +<p> +She told me the whole story of the abominable conspiracy against my liberty. +Her brother, M. Goldberg, she explained, had determined upon remarriage. She, +Sarah, felt that henceforth she would be in the way of everybody; she would +have no home. Leah married to Rochez; a new and young Mme. Goldberg ruling in +the old house of the Rue des Médecins! Ah, it was unthinkable! +</p> + +<p> +And I, Sir—I, Hector Ratichon—had, it appears, by my polite manners +and prepossessing ways, induced this dour old maid to believe that she was not +altogether indifferent to me. Ah, how I cursed my own charms, when I realised +whither they had led me! It seems that it was that fickle jade Leah who first +imagined the whole execrable plot. Rochez was to entrust me with the task of +carrying off his beloved, and thus I would be tricked in the darkness into +abducting Mlle. Goldberg senior from her home. Then some friends of Rochez +arranged to play the comedy of false gendarmes, and again I was tricked into +acknowledging Sarah as my affianced wife before independent witnesses. After +that I could no longer repudiate mine honourable intentions, for if I did, then +I should be arraigned before the law on a criminal charge of abduction. In this +comedy of false gendarmes Rochez himself and the heartless Leah had joined with +zest and laughed over my discomfiture, whilst the friends who played their +rôles to such perfection had a paltry hundred francs each as the price of this +infamous trick. Now my doom was sealed, and all that was left for me to do was +to think disconsolately over my future. +</p> + +<p> +I did bitterly reproach Sarah for her treachery and tried to still her +protestations of love by pointing out to her that I had absolutely no fortune, +and could only offer her a life of squalor, not to say of what. But this she +knew, and vowed that penury by my side would make her happier than luxury +beside any other man. Ah, Sir, ‘tis given to few men to arouse such selfless +passion in a woman’s heart, and it hath oft been my dream in the past one day +thus to be adored for myself alone! +</p> + +<p> +But for the moment I was too deeply angered to listen placidly to Sarah’s vows +of undying affection. My nerves were irritated by her fulsome adulation; +indeed, I could not bear the sight of her nor yet the sound of her voice. You +may imagine how thankful I was when the chaise came at last to a halt outside +the humble little hostelry where I had engaged the room which I had so fondly +hoped would have been occupied by the lovely and fickle Leah. +</p> + +<p> +I bundled Mlle. Goldberg senior into the house, and here again I had to endure +galling mortification in the shape of sidelong glances cast at me and my future +bride by the landlord of the hostelry and his ill-bred daughter. When I engaged +the room I had very foolishly told them that it would be occupied by a lovely +lady who had consented to be my wife, and that she would remain here in happy +seclusion until such time as all arrangements for our wedding were complete. +The humiliation of these vulgar people’s irony seemed like the last straw which +overweighed my forbearance. The room and pension I had already paid two days in +advance, so I had nothing more to say either to the ribald landlord or to Mlle. +Goldberg senior. I was bitterly angered against her, and refused her the solace +of a kindly look or of an encouraging pressure from my hand, even though she +waited for both with the pathetic patience of an old spaniel. +</p> + +<p> +I re-entered the coach, which was to take me back to mine own humble lodgings +in Passy. Here at least I was alone—alone with my gloomy thoughts. My +heart was full of wrath against the woman who had so basely tricked me, and I +viewed with dismay amounting almost to despair the prospect of spending the +rest of my life in her company. That night I slept but little, nor yet the +following night, or the night after that. Those days I spent in seclusion, +thankful for my solitude. +</p> + +<p> +Twice each day did Mlle. Goldberg come to my lodgings. In the foolish past I +had somewhat injudiciously acquainted her of where I lived. Now she came and +asked to be allowed to see me, but invariably did I refuse thus to gratify her. +I felt that time alone would perhaps soften my feelings a little towards her. +In the meanwhile I must commend her discretion and delicacy of procedure. She +did not in any way attempt to molest me. When she was told by +Theodore—whom I employed during the day to guard me against unwelcome +visitors—that I refused to see her, she invariably went away without +demur, nor did she refer in any way, either with adjurations or threats, to the +impending wedding. Indeed, Sir, she was a lady of vast discretion. +</p> + +<p> +On the third day, however, I received a visit from M. Goldberg himself. I could +not refuse to see him. Indeed, he would not be denied, but roughly pushed +Theodore aside, who tried to hinder him. He had come armed with a riding-whip, +and nothing but mine own innate dignity saved me from outrage. He came, Sir, +with a marriage licence for his sister and me in one pocket and with a +denunciation to the police against me for abduction in another. He gave me the +choice. What could I do, Sir? I was like a helpless babe in the hands of +unscrupulous brigands! +</p> + +<p> +The marriage licence was for the following day—at the mairie of the +eighth arrondissement first, and in the synagogue of the Rue des Halles +afterwards. I chose the marriage licence. What could I do, Sir? I was helpless! +</p> + +<p> +Of my wedding day I have but a dim recollection. It was all hustle and bustle; +from the mairie to the synagogue, and thence to the house of M. Goldberg in the +Rue des Médecins. I must say that the old usurer received me and my bride with +marked amiability. He was, I gathered, genuinely pleased that his sister had +found happiness and a home by the side of an honourable man, seeing that he +himself was on the point of contracting a fresh alliance with a Jewish lady of +unsurpassed loveliness. +</p> + +<p> +Of Rochez and Leah we saw nothing that day, and from one or two words which M. +Goldberg let fall I concluded that he was greatly angered against his daughter +because of her marriage with a fortune-hunting adventurer, who, he weirdly +hinted, had already found quick and exemplary punishment for his crime. I was +sincerely glad to hear this, even though I could not get M. Goldberg to explain +in what that exemplary punishment consisted. +</p> + +<p> +The climax came at six o’clock of that eventful afternoon, at the hour when I, +with the newly-enthroned Mme. Ratichon on my arm, was about to take leave of M. +Goldberg. I must admit that at that moment my heart was overflowing with +bitterness. I had been led like a lamb to the slaughter; I had been made to +look foolish and absurd in the midst of this Israelite community which I +despised; I was saddled for the rest of my life with an unprepossessing elderly +wife, who could do naught for me but share the penury, the hard crusts, the +onion pies with me and Theodore. The only advantage I might ever derive from +her was that she would darn my stockings, sew the buttons on my vests, and +goffer the frills of my shirts! +</p> + +<p> +Was this not enough to turn any man’s naturally sweet disposition to gall? No +doubt my mobile face betrayed something of the bitterness of my thoughts, for +M. Goldberg at one moment slapped me vigorously on the back and bade me be of +good cheer, as things were not so bad as I imagined. I was on the point of +asking him what he meant when I saw another gentleman advancing toward me. His +face, which was sallow and oily, bore a kind of obsequious smile; his clothes +were of rusty black, and his features were markedly Jewish in character. He had +some law papers under his arm, and he was perpetually rubbing his thin, bony +hands together as if he were for ever washing them. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Hector Ratichon,” he said unctuously, “it is with much gratification +that I bring you the joyful news.” +</p> + +<p> +Joyful news!—to me! Ah, Sir, the words struck at first with cruel irony +upon mine ear. But not so a second later, for the Jewish gentleman went on +speaking, and what he said appeared to my reeling senses like songs of angels +from paradise. +</p> + +<p> +At first I could not grasp his full meaning. A moment ago I had been in the +depths of despair, and now—now—a whole vista of beatitude opened +out before me! What the worthy Israelite said was that, by the terms of +Grandpapa Goldberg’s will, if Leah married without her father’s consent, +one-half of the fortune destined for her would revert to her aunt, Sarah +Goldberg, now Madame Hector Ratichon. +</p> + +<p> +Can you wonder that I could scarce believe my ears? One-half that fortune meant +that a hundred thousand francs would now become mine! M. Goldberg had already +made it very clear to his daughter and to Rochez that he would never give his +consent to their marriage, and, as this was now consummated, they had already +forfeited one-half of the grandfather’s fortune in favour of my Sarah. That was +the exemplary punishment which they were to suffer for their folly. +</p> + +<p> +But their folly—aye! and their treachery—had become my joy. In this +moment of heavenly rapture I was speechless, but I turned to Sarah with loving +arms outstretched, and the next instant she nestled against my heart like a +joyful if elderly bird. +</p> + +<p> +What is said of a people, Sir, is also true of the individual. Happy he who +hath no history. Since that never-to-be-forgotten hour my life has run its +simple, uneventful course here in this quiet corner of our beautiful France, +with my pony and my dog and my chickens, and Mme. Ratichon to minister to my +creature comforts. +</p> + +<p> +I bought this little property, Sir, soon after my marriage, and my office in +the Rue Daunou knows me no more. You like the house, Sir? Ah, yes! And the +garden? . . . After déjeuner you must see my prize chickens. Theodore will show +them to you. You did not know Theodore was here? Well, yes! He lives with us. +Madame Ratichon finds him useful about the house, and, not being used to +luxuries, he is on the whole pleasantly contented. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, here comes Madame Ratichon to tell us that the déjeuner is served! This +way, Sir, under the porch. . . . After you! +</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12461 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |