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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16771-8.txt b/16771-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf3c2b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/16771-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7838 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jacqueline of Golden River, by H. M. Egbert + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jacqueline of Golden River + +Author: H. M. Egbert + +Illustrator: Ralph Pallen Coleman + +Release Date: September 28, 2005 [EBook #16771] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: He went without a backward glance . . . and I knew what +the parting meant to him.] + + + + + + +JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER + +BY + +H. M. EGBERT + + + + + + +FRONTISPIECE + +BY + +RALPH PALLEN COLEMAN + + + + + +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + +GARDEN CITY ---------- NEW YORK + +1920 + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY + +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF + +TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES + +INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN + + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY THE FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. A DOG AND A DAMSEL + II. BACK IN THE ROOM + III. COVERING THE TRACKS + IV. SIMON LEROUX + V. M. LE CURÉ + VI. AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFF + VII. CAPTAIN DUBOIS + VIII. DREAMS OF THE NIGHT + IX. THE FUNGUS + X. SNOW BLINDNESS + XI. THE CHÂTEAU + XII. UNDER THE MOUNTAINS + XIII. THE ROULETTE-WHEEL + XIV. SOME PLAIN SPEAKING + XV. WON--AND LOST + XVI. THE OLD ANGEL + XVII. LOUIS D'EPERNAY + XVIII. THE LITTLE DAGGER + XIX. THE HIDDEN CHAMBER + XX. AT SWORDS' POINTS + XXI. THE BAIT THAT LURED + XXII. SURRENDER + XXIII. LEROUX'S DIABLE + XXIV. FULL CONFESSION + XXV. THE END OF THE CHÂTEAU + + + + +JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER + + +CHAPTER I + +A DOG AND A DAMSEL + +As I sat on a bench in Madison Square after half past eleven in the +evening, at the end of one of those mild days that sometimes occur in +New York even at the beginning of December, a dog came trotting up to +me, stopped at my feet, and whined. + +There is nothing remarkable in having a strange dog run to one nor in +seeing the creature rise on its hind legs and paw at you for notice and +a caress. Only, this happened to be an Eskimo dog. + +It might have been mistaken for a collie or a sheepdog by nearly +everybody who saw it, though most men would have turned to admire the +softness of its fur and to glance at the heavy collar with the silver +studs. But I knew the Eskimo breed, having spent a summer in Labrador. + +I stroked the beast, which lay down at my feet, raising its head +sometimes to whine, and sometimes darting off a little way and coming +back to tug at the lower edge of my overcoat. But my mind was too much +occupied for me to take any but a perfunctory interest in its +manoeuvres. My eight years of thankless drudgery as a clerk, following +on a brief adventurous period after I ran away to sea from my English +home, had terminated three days before, upon receipt of a legacy, and I +had at once left Tom Carson's employment. + +Six thousand guineas--thirty thousand dollars--the will said. I had +not seen my uncle since I was a boy. But he had been a bachelor, we +were both Hewletts, and I had been named Paul after him. + +I had seen for some time that Carson meant to get rid of me. It had +been a satisfaction to me to get rid of him instead. + +He had been alternately a prospector and a company promoter all the +working years of his rather shabby life. He had organized some dubious +concerns; but his new offices on Broadway were fitted so +unostentatiously that anyone could see the Northern Exploitation +Company was not trying to glitter for the benefit of the small investor. + +Coal fields and timber-land somewhere in Canada, the concession was +supposed to be. But Tom was as secretive as a clam, except with Simon +Leroux. + +Leroux was a parish politician from some place near Quebec, and his +clean-shaven, wrinkled face was as hard and mean as that of any city +boss in the United States. His vile Anglo-French expletives were as +nauseous as his cigars. He and old Tom used to be closeted together +for hours at a time. + +I never liked the man, and I never cared for Carson's business ways. I +was glad to leave him the day after my legacy arrived. + +He only snorted when I gave him notice, and told the cashier to pay me +my salary to date. He had long before summed me up as a spiritless +drudge. I don't believe he gave another thought to me after I left his +office. + +My plans were vague. I had been occupying, at a low rental, a tiny +apartment consisting of two rooms, a bath, and what is called a +"kitchenette" at the top of an old building in Tenth Street which was +about to be pulled down. Part of the roof was gone already, and there +was a six-foot hole under the eaves. + +I had arranged to leave the next day, and a storage company was to call +in the morning for my few sticks of furniture. I had half planned to +take boat for Jamaica. I wanted to think and plan. + +I had nobody dependent on me, and was resolved to invest my little +fortune in such a way that I might have a modest competence, so that +the dreadful spectre of poverty might never leer at me again. + +The Eskimo dog was growing uneasy. It would run from me, looking round +and uttering a succession of short barks, then run back and tug at my +overcoat again. I began to become interested in its manoeuvres. + +Evidently it wished me to accompany it, and I wondered who its master +was and how it came to be there. + +I stooped and looked at the collar. There was no name on it, except +the maker's, scratched and illegible. I rose and followed the beast, +which showed its eager delight by running ahead of me, turning round at +times to bark, and then continuing on its way with a precision which +showed me that it was certain of its destination. + +As I crossed Madison Square the light on the Metropolitan Tower flashed +the first quarter. Broadway was in full glare. The lure of electric +signs winked at me from every corner. The restaurants were disgorging +their patrons, and beautifully dressed women in fine furs, accompanied +by escorts in evening dress, stood on the pavements. Taxicabs whirled +through the slush. + +I began to feel a renewal in me of the old, old thrill the city had +inspired when I entered it a younger and a more hopeful man. + +The dog turned down a street in the Twenties, ran on a few yards, +bounded up a flight of stone steps, and began scratching at the door of +a house that was apparently empty. + +I say apparently, because the shades were down at every window and the +interior was unlit, so far as could be seen from the street; but I knew +that at that hour it must contain from fifty to a hundred people. + +This place I knew by reputation. It was Jim Daly's notorious but +decently conducted gambling establishment, which was running full blast +at a time when every other institution of this character had found it +convenient to shut down. + +So the creature's master was inside Daly's, and it wished me to get him +out. This was evidence of unusual discernment in his best friend, but +it was hardly my prerogative to exercise moral supervision over this +adventurous explorer of a chillier country even than his northern +wastes. I looked in some disappointment at the closed doors and turned +away. + +I meant to go home, and I had proceeded about three paces when the lock +clicked. I stopped. The front door opened cautiously, and the gray +head of Jim's negro butler appeared. Behind it was the famous grille +of cast-steel, capable, according to rumour, of defying the axes of any +number of raiding reformers. + +Then emerged one of the most beautiful women that I had ever seen. + +I should have called her a girl, for she could not have been more than +twenty years of age. Her hair was of a fair brown, the features +modelled splendidly, the head poised upon a flawless throat that +gleamed white beneath a neckpiece of magnificent sable. + +She carried a sable muff, too, and under these furs was a dress of +unstylish fashion and cut that contrasted curiously with them. I +thought that those loose sleeves had passed away before the nineteenth +century died. In one hand she carried a bag, into which she was +stuffing a large roll of bills. + +As she stepped down to the street the dog leaped up at her. A hand +fell caressingly upon the creature's head, and I knew that she had one +servant who would be faithful unto death. + +She passed so close to me that her dress brushed my overcoat, and for +an instant her eyes met mine. There was a look in them that startled +me--terror and helplessness, as though she had suffered some benumbing +shock which made her actions more automatic than conscious. + +This was no woman of the class that one might expect to find in Daly's. +There was innocence in the face and in the throat, uplifted, as one +sees it in young girls. + +I was bewildered. What was a girl like that doing in Daly's at half +past twelve in the morning? + +She began walking slowly and rather aimlessly, it seemed to me, along +the street in the direction of Sixth Avenue. My curiosity was +unbounded. I followed her at a decent interval to see what she was +going to do. But she did not seem to know. + +The girl looked as if she had stepped out of a cloister into an unknown +world, and the dog added to the strangeness of the picture. + +The street loafers stared after her, and two men began walking abreast +of her on the other side of the road. I followed more closely. + +As she stood upon the curb on the east side of Sixth Avenue I saw her +glance timidly up and down before venturing to cross. There was little +traffic, and the cars were running at wide intervals, but it was quite +half a minute before she summoned resolution to plunge beneath the +structure of the elevated railroad. When she had reached the other +side she stood still again before continuing westward. + +The two men crossed the street and planted themselves behind her. They +were speaking in a tongue that sounded like French, and one had a patch +over his eye. A taxicab was crawling up behind them. I was sure that +they were in pursuit of her. + +The four of us were almost abreast in the middle of the long block +between Sixth and Seventh Avenues. We were passing a dead wall, and +the street was almost empty. + +Suddenly the man with the patch turned on me, lowered his head, and +butted me off my feet. I fell into the roadway, and at that instant +the second fellow grasped the girl by the arm and the taxicab whirled +up and stopped. + +The girl's assailants seemed to be trying to force her into the cab. +One caught at her arm, the other seized her waist. The bag flew open, +scattering a shower of gold pieces upon the pavement. + +And then, before I could get upon my feet again, the dog had leaped at +the throat of the man with the patch and sent him stumbling backward. +Before he recovered his balance I was at the other man, striking out +right and left. + +It was all the act of an instant, and in an instant the two men had +jumped into the taxicab and were being driven swiftly away. I was +standing beside the terrified girl, while an ill-looking crowd, +gathering from God knows where, surrounded us and fought like harpies +for the coins which lay scattered about. + +I laid my hands on one who had grabbed a gold piece from between my +feet, but the girl pulled at my arm distractedly. She was white and +trembling, and her big grey eyes were full of fear. + +"Help me!" she pleaded, clinging to my sleeve with her little gloved +hands. "The money is nothing. I have eight thousand dollars more in +my bag. Help me away!" + +She spoke in a foreign, bookish accent, as though she had learned +English at school. Fortunately for us the mob was too busily engrossed +in its search to hear her words. + +So I drew her arm through mine and we hurried toward Sixth Avenue, +where we took an up-town car. + +We had reached Herald Square when it occurred to me that my companion +did not seem to know her destination. So we descended there. I +intended to order a taxicab for her, had forgotten the dog, but now the +beautiful creature came bounding up to us. + +"Where are you going?" I asked the girl. "I will take you to your +home--or hotel," I added with a slight upward intonation on the last +word. + +"I do not know where I am going," she answered slowly. "I have never +been in New York until to-day." + +"But you have friends here?" I asked. + +She shook her head. + +"But are you really carrying eight thousand dollars about with you in +New York at night?" I asked in amazement. "Don't you know this city is +full of thieves, and that you are in the worst district?" + +For a moment it occurred to me that she might have been decoyed into +Daly's. And yet I knew it was not that sort of place; indeed, Daly's +chief desire was to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It was very +difficult to get into Daly's. + +"Do you know the character of the place you came out of?" I asked, +trying to find some clue to her actions. + +"The character?" she repeated, apparently puzzled at first. "Oh, yes. +That is Mr. Daly's gaming-house. I came to New York to play at +roulette there." + +She was looking at me so frankly that I was sure she was wholly +ignorant of evil. + +"My father is too ill to play himself," she explained, "so I must find +a hotel near Mr. Daly's house, and then I shall play every night until +our fortune is made. Tonight I lost nearly two thousand dollars. But +I was nervous in that strange place. And the system expressly says +that one may lose at first. To-morrow I raise the stakes and we shall +begin to win. See?" + +She pulled a little pad from her bag covered with a maze of figuring. + +"But where do you come from?" I asked. "Where is your father?" + +Again I saw that look of terror come into her eyes. She glanced +quickly about her, and I was sure she was thinking of escaping from me. + +I hastened to reassure her. + +"Forgive me," I said. "It is no business of mine. And now, if you +will trust me a little further I will try to find a hotel for you." + +It would have disarmed the worst man to feel her little hand slipped +into his arm in that docile manner of hers. I took her to the Seward, +the Grand, the Cornhil, and the Merrimac--each in turn. + +Vain hope! You know what the New York hotels are. When I asked for a +room for her the clerk would eye her furs dubiously, look over his book +in pretense, and then inform me that the hotel was full. + +At the Merrimac I sat down in the lobby and sent her to the clerk's +desk alone, but that was equally useless. I realized pretty soon that +no reputable hotel in New York City would accommodate her at that hour. + +We were standing presently in front of the _Herald_ office. Her hand +still touched my arm, and I was conscious of an absurd desire to keep +it there as long as possible. + +My curiosity had given place to deep anxiety on her account. What was +this child doing in New York alone, what sort of father had let her +come, if her story were true? What was she? A European? Too +unconventional for that. An Argentine? A runaway from some South +American convent? + +Her skin was too fair for Spanish blood to flow beneath it. She looked +French and had something of the French frankness. + +Canadian? I dared not ask her any more questions. There was only one +thing to do, and, though I shrank from the suggestion, it had to be +made. + +"It is evident that you must go somewhere to-night," I said. "I have +two rooms on Tenth Street which I am vacating to-morrow. They are +poorly furnished, but there is clean linen; and if you will occupy them +for the night I can go elsewhere, and I will call for you at nine in +the morning." + +She smiled at me gratefully--she did not seem surprised at all. + +"You have some baggage?" I asked. + +"No, _monsieur_," she answered. + +She _was_ French, then--Canadian-French, I had no doubt. I was hardly +surprised at her answer. I had ceased to be surprised at anything she +told me. + +"To-morrow I shall show you where to make some purchases, then," I +said. "And now, _mademoiselle_, suppose we take a taxicab." + +As her hand tightened upon my arm I saw a man standing on the west side +of Broadway and staring intently at us. + +He was of a singular appearance. He wore a fur coat with a collar of +Persian lamb, and on his head was a black lambskin cap such as is worn +in colder climates, but it seldom seen in New York. He looked about +thirty years of age, he had an aspect decidedly foreign, and I imagined +that he was scowling at us malignantly. + +I was not sure that this surmise was not due to an over-active +imagination, but I was determined to get away from the man's scrutiny, +so I called a taxicab and gave the driver my address. + +"Go through some side streets and go fast," I said. + +The fellow nodded. He understood my motive, though I fear he may have +misinterpreted the circumstances. We entered, and the girl nestled +back against the comfortable cushions, and we drove at a furious speed, +dodging down side streets at a rate that should have defied pursuit. + +During the drive I instructed my companion emphatically. + +"Since you have no friends here, you must have confidence in me, +_mademoiselle_," I said. + +"And you are my friend? Well, _monsieur_, be sure I trust you," she +answered. + +"You must listen to me attentively, then," I continued. "You must not +admit anybody to the apartment until I ring to-morrow. I have the key, +and I shall arrive at nine and ring, and then unlock the door. But +take no notice of the bell. You understand?" + +"Yes, _monsieur_," she answered wearily. Her eyelids drooped; I saw +that she was very sleepy. + +When the taxicab deposited us in front of the house, I glanced hastily +up and down the road. There was another cab at the east end of the +street, but I could not discern if it were approaching me or +stationary. I opened the front door quickly and admitted my companion, +then preceded her up the uncarpeted stairs to my little apartment on +the top floor. I was the only tenant in the house, and therefore there +would be no cause for embarrassment. + +As I opened the door of my apartment the dog pushed past me. Again I +had forgotten it; but it had not forgotten its mistress. + +I looked inside my bare little rooms. It was hard to say good-by. + +"Till to-morrow, _mademoiselle_," I said. "And won't you tell me your +name?" + +She drew off her glove and put one hand in mine. + +"Jacqueline," she answered. "And yours?" + +"Paul," I said. + +"_Au revoir_, Monsieur Paul, then, and take my gratitude with you for +your goodness." + +I let her hand fall and hurried down the stairs, confused and choking, +for there was a wedding-ring upon her finger. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +BACK IN THE ROOM + +The situation had become more preposterous than ever. Two hours before +it would have been unimaginable; one hour ago I had merely been +offering aid to a young woman in distress; now she was occupying my +rooms and I was hurrying along Tenth Street, careless as to my +destination, and feeling as though the whole world was crumbling about +my head because she wore a wedding-ring. + +Certainly I was not in love with her, so far as I could analyze my +emotions. I had been conscious only of a desire to help her, merging +by degrees into pity for her friendlessness. + +But the wedding-ring--what hopes, then, had begun to spring up in my +heart? I could not fathom them; I only knew that my exaltation had +given place to profound dejection. + +As I passed up the street the taxicab which I had seen at the east end +came rapidly toward me. It passed, and I stopped and looked after it. +I was certain that it slackened speed outside the door of the old +building, but again it went on quickly, until it was lost to view in +the distance. + +Had I given the pursuers a clue by my reappearance? + +I watched for a few moments longer, but the vehicle did not return, and +I dismissed the idea as folly. In truth, there was no reason to +suppose that the man I had seen in Herald Square was connected with the +two others, or that any of the three had followed us. No doubt the +third man was but a street-loafer of the familiar type, attracted by +Jacqueline's unusual appearance. + +And, after all, New York was a civilized city, and I could be sure of +the girl's safety behind the street door-lock and that of my apartment +door. So I refused to yield to the impulse to go back and assure +myself that she was all right. I must find a hotel and get a good +night's sleep. In the morning, undoubtedly, I would see the episode in +a less romantic fashion. + +As I went on, new thoughts began to press on my imagination. Such an +event as this, told in any gathering of men, why, they would smile at +me and call me the victim of an adventuress. The tale about the +father, the assumed ignorance of the conventions--how much could be +believed? + +Had she not probably left her husband in some Canadian city and come to +New York to enjoy her holiday in her own fashion? Could she innocently +have adventured to Daly's door and actually have succeeded in gaining +admission? Why, many a would-be gambler had had the wicket of the +grille slammed in his face by the old colored butler. + +Perhaps she was worse than I was even now imagining! + +I had turned up Fifth Avenue, and had reached Twelfth or Thirteenth +Street when I thought I heard the patter of the Eskimo dog's feet +behind me. I spun, around, startled, but there was only the long +stretch of pavement, wet from a slight recent shower, and the +reflection of the white arc-lights in it. + +I had resumed my course when I was sure I heard the pattering again. +And again I saw nothing. + +A moment later I was hurrying back toward the apartment-house. My +nerves had suddenly become unstrung. I felt sure now that some +imminent danger was threatening Jacqueline. I could not bear the +suspense of waiting till morning. I wanted to save her from something +that I felt intimately, but did not understand, and at which my reason +mocked in vain. + +And as I ran I thought I heard the patter of the dog's feet, pacing +mine. + +I was rounding the corner of Tenth Street now, and again the folly of +my behaviour struck home to me. I stopped and tried to think. Was it +some instinct that was taking me back, or was it the remembrance of +Jacqueline's beauty? Was it not the desire to see her, to ask her +about the ring? + +Surely my fears were but an overwrought imagination and the strangeness +of the situation, acting upon a mind eagerly grasping out after +adventure, being set free from the oppression of those dreadful years +of bondage! + +I had actually swung around when I heard the ghostly patter of the feet +again close at my side. I made my decision in that instant, and +hurried swiftly on my course back toward the apartment house. + +I was in Tenth Street now. It was half-past two in the morning, and +beginning to grow cold. The thoroughfare was empty. I fled, a tiny +thing, between two rows of high, dark houses. + +When at last I found my door my hands were trembling so that I could +hardly fit the key into the lock. + +I wondered now whether it had not been the pattering of my heart that I +had heard. + +I bounded up the stairs. But on the top story I had to pause to get my +breath, and then I dared not enter. I listened outside. There was no +sound from within. + +The two rooms that I occupied were separated only by a curtain, which +fell short a foot from the floor and was slung on a wooden pole, +disclosing two feet between the top of it and the ceiling. The rooms +were thus actually one, and even that might have been called small, for +the bed in the rear room was not a dozen paces from the door. + +I listened for the breathing of the sleeping girl. My intelligence +cried out upon my folly, telling me that my appearance there would +terrify her; and yet that clamorous fear that beat at my heart would +not be silenced. + +If I could hear her breathe, I thought, I would go quietly away, and +find a hotel in which to sleep. I listened minute after minute, but I +could not hear a sound. + +At last I put my mouth to the keyhole and spoke to her. "Jacqueline," +I called. The name sounded as strange and sweet on my own lips as it +had sounded on hers when she told it to me. I waited. + +There was no answer. + +Then a little louder: "Jacqueline!" + +And then quite loudly: "Jacqueline!" + +I listened, dreading that she would cry out in alarm, but the same dead +silence followed. + +Then, out of the silence, hammering on my eardrums, burst the loud +ticking of the little alarm-clock that I had left on the mantel of the +bedroom. I heard that, and it must have been ticking minutes before +the sound reached me; perhaps if I waited a little longer I should hear +her breathing. + +The alarm-clock was one of that kind which, when set to "repeat," +utters a peculiar little click every two hundred and eighth stroke +owing to a catch in the mechanism. Formerly it had annoyed me +inexpressibly, and I would lie awake for hours waiting for that tiny +sound. Now I could hear even that, and heard it repeat and repeat +itself; but I could not hear Jacqueline breathe. + +I took the key of the apartment door from my pocket at last and fitted +it noiselessly into the lock. I stood there, trembling and irresolute. +I dared not turn the key. The hall door gave immediately upon the +rooms without a private passage, and at the moment when I opened the +door I should be practically inside my bedroom save for the intervening +curtain. + +Once more I ventured: + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" + +There was not the smallest answering stir within. And so, with shaking +fingers, I turned the key. + +The door creaked open with a noise that must have sounded throughout +the empty house. I recollected then that it was impossible to keep it +shut without locking it. The landlord had long ago ceased to concern +himself with his tumble-down property. + +I caught at the door-edge, missed it and, tripping over a rent in the +cheap mat that lay against the door inside, stumbled against the +table-edge and clung there. + +And even after I had caught at it, and stayed my fall, that infernal +door went creaking, creaking backward till it brought up against the +wall. + +The room was completely dark, except for a little patch of light high +up on the bedroom wall, which came through the hole the workmen had +made when they began demolishing the building. I hesitated a moment; +then I drew a match from my pocket and rubbed it softly into a flame +against my trouser leg. + +I reached up to the gas above the table, turned it on, and lit the +incandescent mantle, lowering the light immediately. But even then +there was no sound from behind the curtains. + +They hung down close together, so that I was able to see only the +gas-blackened ceiling above them and, underneath, the lower edge of the +bed linen, and the bed-frame at the base, with its enamelled iron feet, +The sheets hung straight, as though the bed had not been occupied; but, +though there was no sound, I knew Jacqueline was at the back of the +curtains. + +The oppressive stillness was not that of solitude. She must be awake; +she must be listening in terror. + +I went toward the curtains, and when I spoke I heard the words come +through my lips in a voice that I could not recognize as mine. + +"Jacqueline!" I whispered, "it is Paul. Paul, your friend. Are you +safe, Jacqueline?" + +Now I saw, under the curtains, what looked like the body of a very +small animal. It might have been a woolly dog, or a black lambkin, and +it was lying perfectly still. + +I pulled aside the curtains and stood between them, and the scene +stamped itself upon my brain, as clear as a photographic print, for +ever. + +The woolly beast was the fur cap of a dead man who lay across the floor +of the little room. One foot was extended underneath the bed, and the +head reached to the bottom of the wall on the other side of the room. +He lay upon his back, his eyes open and staring, his hands clenched, +and his features twisted into a sneering smile. + +His fur overcoat, unbuttoned, disclosed a warm knit waistcoat of a +gaudy pattern, across which ran the heavy links of a gold chain. There +was a tiny hole in his breast, over the heart, from which a little +blood had flowed. The wound had pierced the heart, and death had +evidently been instantaneous. + +It was the man whom I had seen staring at us across Herald Square. + +Beside the window Jacqueline crouched, and at her feet lay the Eskimo +dog, watching me silently. In her hand she held a tiny, dagger-like +knife, with a thin, red-stained blade. Her grey eyes, black in the +gas-light, stared into mine, and there was neither fear nor recognition +in them. She was fully dressed, and the bed had not been occupied. + +I flung myself at her feet. I took the weapon from her hand. +"Jacqueline!" I cried in terror. I raised her hands to my lips and +caressed them. + +She seemed quite unresponsive. + +I laid them against my cheek. I called her by her name imploringly; I +spoke to her, but she only looked at me and made no answer. Still it +was evident to me that she heard and understood, for she looked at me +in a puzzled way, as if I were a complete stranger. She did not seem +to resent my presence there, and she did not seem afraid of the dead +man. She seemed, in a kindly, patient manner, to be trying to +understand the meaning of the situation. + +"Jacqueline," I cried, "you are not hurt? Thank God you are not hurt. +What has happened?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "I don't know where I am." + +I kneeled down at her side and put my arms about her. + +"Jacqueline, dear;" I said, "will you not try to think? I am +Paul--your friend Paul. Do you not remember me?" + +"No, monsieur," she sighed. + +"But, then, how did you come here, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +"I do not know," she answered. And, a moment later, "I do not know, +Paul." + +That encouraged me a little. Evidently she remembered what I had just +said to her. + +"Where is your home, Jacqueline?" + +"I do not know," she answered in an apathetic voice, devoid of interest. + +There was something more to be said, though it was hard. + +"Jacqueline, who--was--that?" + +"Who?" she inquired, looking at me with the same patient, wistful gaze. + +"That man, Jacqueline. That dead man." + +"What dead man, Paul?" + +She was staring straight at the body, and at that moment I realized +that she not only did not remember, but did not even see it. + +The shock which she had received, supervening upon the nervous state in +which she had been when I encountered her, had produced one of those +mental inhibitions in which the mind, to save the reason, obliterates +temporarily not only all memory of the past, but also all present +sights and sounds which may serve to recall it. She looked idly at the +body of the dead man, and I was sure that she saw nothing but the worn +woodwork of the floor. + +I saw that it was useless to say anything more upon this subject. + +"You are very tired, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +"Yes, _monsieur_," she answered, leaning back against my arm. + +"And you would like to sleep?" + +"Yes, _monsieur_." + +I raised her in my arms and laid her on the bed, telling her to close +her eyes and sleep. She was asleep almost immediately after her head +rested Upon the pillow. She breathed as softly as an infant. + +I watched her for a while until I heard a distant clock strike three. +This recalled me to the dangers of our situation. I struck a match and +lit the gas in the bedroom. But the yellow glare was so ghastly and +intolerable that I turned it down. + +And then I set about the task before me. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +COVERING THE TRACKS + +I thought quickly, and my consciousness seemed to embrace all the +details of the situation with a keenness foreign to my nature. + +Once, I believe, I had been able to play an active part among the men +who were my associates in that adventurous life that lay so far behind +me. But eight years of clerkship had reduced me to the condition of +one who waits on the command of others. Now my irresolution vanished +for the time, and I was my old self once more. + +The first task was the disposal of the body in such a way that +suspicion would not attach itself to me after I had vacated the rooms +next morning. + +There was a fire-escape running up to the floor of that room on the +outside of the house, though there was no egress to it. It had been +put up by the landlord to satisfy the requirements of some new law; but +had never been meant for use, and it was constructed of the flimsiest +and cheapest ironwork. I saw that it would be possible by standing on +a chair to swing myself up to the hole in the wall and reach down to +the iron stairs up which, I assumed, the dead man had crept after I had +given him the hint of Jacqueline's abode by emerging from the front +door. + +I raised the dead man in my arms, looking apprehensively toward the +bed. I was afraid Jacqueline would awaken, but she slept in heavy +peace, undisturbed by the harsh creaking of the sagging floor beneath +its double burden. I put the fur cap on the grotesque, nodding dead +head, and, pushing a chair toward the wall with my foot, mounted it and +managed with a great effort to squeeze through the hole, pulling up the +body with me as I did so. + +Then I felt with my foot for the little platform at the top of the iron +stairs outside, found it, and dropped. Afterward I dragged the +dreadful burden down from the hole. + +I had not known that I was strong before, and I do not understand now +how I managed to accomplish my wretched task. + +I carried the dead man all the way down the fire-escape, clinging and +straining against the rotting, rusting bars, which bent and cracked +beneath my weight and seemed about to break and drag down the entire +structure from the wall. + +I hardly paused at the platforms outside the successive stories. The +weather was growing very cold, a storm was coming up, and the wind +soughed and whined dismally around the eaves. + +I reached the bottom at last and rested for a moment. + +At the back of the house was a little vacant space, filled with heaps +of débris from the demolished portions of the building and with refuse +which had been dumped there by tenants who had left and had never been +removed. This yard was separated only by a rotting fence with a single +wooden rail from a small blind alley. + +The alley had run between rows of stables in former days when this was +a fashionable quarter, but now these were mostly unoccupied, save for a +few more pretentious ones at the lower end, which were being converted +into garages. + +Everywhere were heaps of brick, piles of rain-rotted wood, and +rubbish-heaps. + +I took up my burden and placed it at the end of the alley, covering it +roughly with some old burlap bags which lay there. I thought it safe +to assume that the police would look upon the dead man as the victim of +some footpad. It was only remotely possible that suspicion would be +directed against any occupant of any of the houses bordering on the +_cul-de-sac_. + +I did not search the dead man's pockets. I cared nothing who he was, +and did not want to know. My sole desire was to acquit Jacqueline of +his death in the world's eyes. + +That he had come deservedly by it I was positive. I was her sole +protector now, and I felt a furious resolve that no one should rob me +of her. + +The ground was as hard as iron, and I was satisfied that my footsteps +had left no track; there would be snow before morning, and if my feet +had left any traces these would be covered effectively. + +Four o'clock was striking while I was climbing back into the room +again. Jacqueline lay on the bed in the same position; she had not +stirred during that hour. While she slept I set about the completion +of my task. + +I took the knife from the floor where I had flung it, scrubbed it, and +placed it in my suit-case. Then I scrubbed the floor clean, afterward +rubbing it with a soiled rag to make its appearance uniform. + +I washed my hands, and thought I had finally removed all traces of the +affair; but, coming back, I perceived something upon the floor which +had escaped my notice. It was the leather collar of the Eskimo dog, +with its big silver studs and the maker's silver name-plate. + +All this while the animal had remained perfectly quiet in the room +crouching at Jacqueline's feet and beside the bed. It had not +attempted to molest me, as I had feared might be the case during the +course of my gruesome work. + +I came to the conclusion that there might have been a struggle; that it +had run to its mistress's assistance, and that the collar had been torn +from it by the dead man. + +My first thought was to put the collar back upon the creature's neck; +but then I came to the conclusion that this might possibly serve as a +means of identification. And it was essential that no one should be +able to identify the dog. + +So I picked the collar up and carried it into the next room and held it +under the light of the incandescent gas-mantle. The letters of the +maker's name were almost obliterated, but after a careful study I was +able to make them out. The name was Maclay & Robitaille, and the place +of manufacture Quebec. This confirmed my belief concerning +Jacqueline's nativity. + +I pried the plate from the leather and slipped it into my pocket. I +put the broken collar into my suitcase, together with the dagger, and +then I set about packing my things for the journey which we were to +undertake. + +I had always accustomed myself to travel with a minimum of baggage, and +the suit-case, which was a roomy one, held all that I should need at +any time. When I had finished packing I went back to Jacqueline and +sat beside her while she slept. As I sat dawn I heard a city clock +strike five. + +In a little while it would begin to lighten, and the advent of the day +filled me with a sort of terror. + +I watched the sleeping girl. Who was she? How could she sleep calmly +after that night's deed? The mystery seemed unfathomable; the girl +alone in the city, the robbers, the dog, the dead man, and the one who +had escaped me. + +Jacqueline's bag lay on the bureau and disgorging bills. There were +rolls and rolls of them--eight thousand dollars did not seem too much. + +Besides these, the bag contained the usual feminine properties: a +handkerchief, sachet-bag, a pocket mirror, and some thin papers, coated +with rice-powder. + +The thought crossed my mind that the bills might be counterfeit, and I +picked one up and looked carefully at it, comparing it with one from my +own pocketbook. But I was soon satisfied that they were real. Well--I +turned back to Jacqueline, ashamed of the suspicion that had crossed my +mind. + +Her soft brown hair streamed over the pillow and hung down toward the +floor, a heavy mass, uncoiled from the wound braids upon her neck. Her +breast rose and fell evenly with her breathing. She looked even +younger than on the preceding evening. I was sure now that she was +innocent of evil, and my unworthy thoughts made me ashamed. Her +outstretched arm was extended beyond the edge of the bed. + +I raised her hand and held in it my own, and I sat thus until the room +began to lighten, watching her all the while. + +It was strange that as I sat there I began to grow comforted. I looked +on her as mine. When I had kissed her hands I had forgotten the ring +upon her finger; and now, holding that hand in mine and running my +fingers round and round the circlet of gold, I was not troubled at all. +I could not think of her as any other man's. She was mine--Jacqueline. + +Presently she stirred, her eyes opened, and she sat up. I placed a +pillow at her back. She gazed at me with apathy, but there was also +recognition in her look. + +"Do you know me, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +"Yes, Paul," she answered. + +"Your friend?" + +"My friend, Paul." + +"Jacqueline, I am going to take you home," I said, hoping that she +would tell me something, but I dared ask her no more. I meant to take +her to Quebec and make inquiries there. Thus I hoped to learn +something of her, even if the sight of the town did not awaken her +memories. + +"I am going to take you home, Jacqueline," I repeated. + +"Yes, Paul," she answered in that docile manner of hers. + +"It is lucky you have your furs, because the winter is cold where your +home is." + +"Yes, Paul," she repeated as before, and a few more probings on my part +convinced me that she remembered nothing at all. Her mind was like a +person's newly awakened in a strange land. But this state brought with +it no fear, only a peaceful quietude and faith which was very touching. + +"We have forgotten a lot of things that troubled us, haven't we, Paul?" +she asked me presently. "But we shall not care, since we have each +other for friends. And afterwards perhaps we shall pick them up again. +Do you not think so, Paul?" + +"Yes, Jacqueline," I answered. + +"If we remembered now the memory of them might make us unhappy," she +continued wistfully. "Do you not think so, Paul?" + +"Yes, Jacqueline." + +There was a faint and vague alarm in her eyes which made me glad for +her sake that she did not know. + +"Now, Jacqueline," I said, "we shall have to begin to make ready for +our journey." + +I had just remembered that the storage company which was to warehouse +my few belongings was to call that day. The van would probably be at +the house early in the morning, and it was essential that we should be +gone before it arrived. + +Fortunately I had arranged to leave the door unlocked in case my +arrangements necessitated my early departure, and this was understood, +so that my absence would cause no surprise. + +I showed Jacqueline the bathroom and drew the curtains. Then I went +into the kitchenette and made coffee on the gas range, and, since it +was too early for the arrival of my morning loaf, which was placed just +within the street door by the baker's boy every day, I made some toast +and buttered it. + +I remember reflecting, with a relic of my old forced economy, how +fortunate it was that my pound of butter had just lasted until the +morning when I was to break up housekeeping. + +When I took in the breakfast Jacqueline was waiting for me, looking +very dainty and charming. She was hungry, too, also a good sign. + +She did not seem to understand that there was anything strange in the +situation in which we found ourselves. I did not know whether this was +due to her mental state or to that strange unsophistication which I had +already observed in her. At any rate, we ate our breakfast together as +naturally as though we were a married couple of long standing. + +After the meal was ended, and we had fed the dog, Jacqueline insisted +on washing the dishes, and I showed her the kitchenette and let her do +so, though I should never have need for the cheap plates and cups again. + +"Now, Jacqueline, we must go," I said. + +I placed her neckpiece about her. I closed her bag, stuffing the bills +inside, and hung it on her arm. I could not resist a smile to see the +little pad covered with its maze of figures among the rolls of money. +I was afraid that the sight of it would awaken her memories, but she +only looked quietly at it and put it away. + +I wanted her to let me bank her money for her, but did not like to ask +her. However, of her own account she took out the bills and handed +them to me. + +"What a lot of money I have," she said. "I hardly thought there was so +much money in the world, Paul." + +It was past eight when we left the house. I carried my suit-case and, +stopping at a neighbouring express office, had it sent to the Grand +Central station. And then I decided to take the dog to the animal's +home. + +I did not like to do so, but was afraid, in the necessity of protecting +Jacqueline, that its presence might possibly prove embarrassing, so I +took it there and left it, with instructions that it was to be kept +until I sent for it. I paid a small sum of money and we departed, +Jacqueline apparently indifferent to what I had done, though the +animal's distress at being parted from her disturbed my conscience a +good deal. + +Still it seemed the only thing to do under our circumstances. + +Quebec, then, was my objective, and with no further clue than the +dog-collar. There were two trains, I found, at three and at nine. The +first, which I proposed to take, would bring us to our destination soon +after nine the next day, but our morning was to be a busy one, and it +would be necessary to make our preparations quickly. + +A little snow was on the ground, but the sun shone brightly, and I felt +that the shadows of the night lay behind us. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SIMON LEROUX + +With Jacqueline's arm drawn through mine I paid a visit to the bank in +which I had deposited my legacy, and drew out fifteen hundred dollars, +next depositing Jacqueline's money to my own account. It amounted to +almost exactly eight thousand dollars. + +The receiving teller must have thought me an eccentric to carry so +large a sum, and I know he thought that Jacqueline and I had just been +married, for I saw him smile over the entry that he made in my bank +book. + +I wanted to deposit her money in her own name, but this would have +involved inquiries and explanations which I was not in a position to +satisfy. So there was nothing to do but deposit it in my own, and +afterward I could refund it to her. + +I said that the receiving teller smiled--he wore that indescribable +congratulatory look with which it is the custom to favor the newly +married. + +In fact, we were exactly like a honeymoon couple. Although I +endeavored to maintain an air of practical self-assurance there was now +a new shyness in her manner, an atmosphere of undefinable but very real +sweetness in the relationship between us which set my heart hammering +at times when I looked at her flushed cheeks and the fair hair, blown +about her face, and hiding the glances which she stole timidly at me. + +It was like a honeymoon departure, only with another man's wife; and +that made the sentiment more elevated and more chivalrous, for it set a +seal of honour on me which must remain unbroken till the time arrived. + +I wondered, as we strolled up Fifth Avenue together, how much she knew, +what she remembered, and what thoughts went coursing through her head. +That child-like faith of hers was marvellously sweet. It was an +innocent confidence, but it was devoid of weakness. I believed that +she was dimly aware that terrible things lay in the past and that she +trusted to her forgetfulness as a shield to shelter not only herself +but me, and would not voluntarily recall what she had forgotten. + +It was necessary to buy her an outfit of clothes, and this problem +worried me a good deal. I hardly knew the names of the things she +required. + +I believe now that I had absurd ideas as to the quantity and +consistency of women's garments. I was afraid that she would not know +what to buy; but, as the morning wore away, I realized that her mental +faculties were not dimmed in the least. + +She observed everything, clapped her hands joyously as a child at the +street sights and sounds, turned to wonder at the elevated and at the +high buildings. I ventured, therefore, upon the subject that was +perplexing me. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "you know that you will require an outfit of +clothes before we start for your home. Not too many things, you know," +I continued cautiously, "but just enough for a journey." + +"Yes, Paul," she answered. + +"How much money shall I give you, Jacqueline?" + +"Fifty dollars?" she inquired. + +I gave her a hundred, and took ridiculous delight in it. + +We entered a large department store, and I mustered up enough courage +to address the young woman who stood behind the counter that displayed +the largest assortment of women's garments. + +"I want a complete outfit for--for this lady," I stammered. "Enough +for,"--I hesitated again--"a two weeks' journey." + +The young woman smiled in a very pleasant way, and two others, who were +near enough to have overheard, turned and smiled also. + +"Bermuda or Niagara Falls?" asked the young woman. + +"I beg your pardon?" I inquired, conscious that my face was +insufferably hot. + +"If you are taking _madame_ to Bermuda she will naturally require +cooler clothing than if you are taking her to Niagara Falls," the young +woman explained, looking at me with benevolent patience. And seeing +that I was wholly disconcerted she added: + +"Perhaps _madame_ might prefer to make her own selection." + +As I stood in the centre of the store, apparently a stumbling block to +every shopper, Jacqueline flitted here and there, until a comfortable +assortment of parcels was accumulated upon the counter. + +"Where shall I send them, _madame_?" inquired the saleswoman. + +There was a suit-case to be bought, so I had them transferred to the +trunk and leather-goods department, where I bought a neat sole-leather +suit-case which, at Jacqueline's practical suggestion, was changed for +a lighter one of plaited straw. + +After that I abstained from misdirecting my companion's activities. + +And everybody addressed her as _madame_, and everybody smiled on us, +and sometimes I reflected miserably upon the wedding ring, and then +again smiled too and forgot, watching Jacqueline's eager face flushed +with delight as she looked at the pretty things in the store. + +I had meditated taking her into Tiffany's to buy her a trinket of some +kind. A ring seemed forbidden, and I was weighing the choice between a +bracelet and a watch, my desire to acquire a whole counter of trinkets +rapidly getting the better of my judgment, when something happened +which put the idea completely out of my head. + +It was while Jacqueline was examining the suitcases that my attention +was drawn to a tall, elderly man with a hard, drawn, and deeply lined +weather-beaten face, and wearing a massive fur overcoat, open in front, +who was standing in the division between the trunk department and that +adjoining it, immediately behind Jacqueline. He was looking at me with +an unmistakable glance of recognition. + +I knew that I had seen him several times before, but, though his +features were familiar, I had forgotten his name. + +In fact, I had seen him only a week before, but the events of the past +night had made a week seem like a week of years. I stared at him and +he stared back at me, and made an urgent sign to me. + +Keeping an eye on Jacqueline, and not losing sight of her at any time, +I followed the tall man. As I neared him my remembrance of him grew +stronger. I knew that powerful, slouching gait, that heavy tread. +When he turned round I had his name on my lips. + +It was Simon Leroux. + +"So you've got her!" he began in a hoarse, forcible whisper. "Where +did you pick her up? I was hurrying away from Tom's office when I +happened to see you two entering Mischenbusch's." + +I remembered then that the office in which I had drudged was only a +couple of blocks away. I made no answer, but waited for him to lead +again--and I was thinking hard. + +"There's the devil to pay!" he went on in his execrable accent. "Louis +came on posthaste, as you know, and he hasn't turned up this morning +yet. Ah, I always knew Tom was close, but I never dreamed _you_ knew +anything. When I used to see sitting near the door in his office +writing in those _sacré_ books I thought you were just a clerk. And +you were in the know all the time, you were! You know what happened +last night?" he continued, looking furtively around. + +"It was an unfortunate affair," I said guardedly. + +"Unfortunate!" he repeated, staring at me out of his bloodshot eyes. +"It was the devil, by gosh! Who was he?" + +His face was fiery red, and he cast so keen a look at me that I almost +thought he had discovered he was betraying himself. + +"It was lucky I was in New York when Louis wired us she had flown," he +continued--I omit the oaths which punctuated his phrases. "Lucky I had +my men with me, too. I didn't think I'd need them here, but I'd +promised them a trip to New York--and then comes Louis's wire. I put +them on the track. I guessed she's go to Daly's--old Duchaine was mad +about that crazy system of his, and had been writing to him. + +"He used to know Daly when they were young men together at Saratoga and +Montreal, and in Quebec, in the times when they had good horses and +high-play there. I tell you it was ticklish. There was millions of +dollars worth of property walking up Broadway, and they'd got her, with +a taxi waiting near by, when that devil's fool strolls up and draws a +crowd. If I'd been there I'd have----" + +A string of vile expletives followed his last remark. + +"They got on his track and followed them to the Merrimac," he +continued. "And they never came out. They waited all night till nine +this morning, and they never came out. My God, I thought her a good +girl--it's awful! Who was he? Say, how much do you know?" + +His face was dripping with sweat, and he shot an awful look at +Jacqueline as she bent over the suit-case. I could hardly keep my +hands off him, but Jacqueline's need was too great for me to give vent +to my passion. + +I remembered now that, after sending Jacqueline to the clerk's desk +alone, she had gone to a side entrance and I had joined her there and +left the hotel with her in that fashion. At any rate, Simon's words +showed me that his hired men were not acquainted with the rest of the +night's work. + +I gathered from what he had said that the possession of Jacqueline was +vitally important both to Leroux and to Tom Carson, for some reason +connected with the Northern Exploitation Company, and that they had +endeavoured to kidnap her and hold her till the man Louis arrived to +advise them. + +"How much do you know?" hissed Simon at me. + +"Leroux," I said, "I'm not going to tell you anything. You will +remember that I was employed by Mr. Carson." + +"Ain't I as good as Carson? What are you going to do with her?" + +"You'd better go back to the office and wait, unless you want to spoil +the game by letting her see you," I said. + +I was sure he was hiding from her intentionally, and I could see that +he believed I was working for Carson, for though he scowled fearfully +at me he seemed impressed by my words. + +"I don't know whether Tom's running straight or not," he said huskily; +"but let me tell you, young man, it'll pay you to keep in with me, and +if you've got any price, name it!" + +He shook his heavy fist over me--I believe the clerks thought he was +going to strike me, for they came hurrying toward us. But I saw +Jacqueline approaching, and, without another word, Leroux turned away. + +Jacqueline caught sight of his retreating figure and her eyes widened. +I thought I saw a shadow of fear in them. Then the memory was effaced +and she was smiling again. + +I instructed the store to call a messenger and have the suit-case taken +at once to the baggage-room in the Grand Central station. + +"Now, Jacqueline, I'm going to take you to lunch," I said. "And +afterward we will start for home." + +Outside the store I looked carefully around and espied Leroux almost +immediately lighting a cigar in the doorway of a shop. I hit upon a +rather daring plan to escape him. + +Carson's offices were in a large modern building, with many elevators +and entrances. I walked toward it with Jacqueline, being satisfied +that Leroux was following us; entered about twenty-five yards before +him, and ascended in the elevator, getting off, however, on the floor +above that on which the offices were. + +I was satisfied that Leroux would follow me a minute later, under the +impression that we had gone to the Northern Exploitation Company, and +so, after waiting a minute or two, I took Jacqueline down in another +elevator, and we escaped through the front entrance and jumped into a +taxicab. + +I was satisfied that I had thrown Leroux off the scent, but I took the +precaution to stop at a gunsmith's shop and purchase a pair of +automatic pistols and a hundred cartridges. The man would not sell +them to me there on account of the law, but he promised to put them in +a box and have them delivered at the station, and there, in due course, +I found them. + +But I was very uneasy until we found ourselves in the train. And then +at last everything was accomplished--our baggage upon the seats beside +us and our berths secured. At three precisely the train pulled out, +and Jacqueline nestled down beside me, and we looked at each other and +were happy. + +And then, at the very moment when the wheels began to revolve, Leroux +stepped down from a neighbouring train. As he passed our window he +espied us. + +He started and glared, and then he came racing back toward us, shaking +his fists and yelling vile expletives. He tried to swing himself +aboard in his fury despite the fact that the doors were all shut. A +porter pushed him back and the last I saw of him he was still pursuing +us, screaming with rage. + +I knew that he would follow on the nine o'clock train, reaching Quebec +about five the following afternoon. That gave us five hours' grace. +It was not much, but it was something to have Jacqueline safe with me +even until the morrow. + +I turned toward her, fearful that she had recognized the man and +realized the situation. But she was smiling happily at my side, and I +was confident then that, by virtue of that same mental inhibition, she +had neither seen nor heard the fellow. + +"Paul, it is _bon voyage_ for both of us," she said. + +"Yes, my dear." + +She looked at me thoughtfully a minute. + +"Paul, when we get home----" + +"Jacqueline?" + +"I do not know," she said, putting her palms to her head. "Perhaps I +shall remember then. But you--you must stay with me, Paul." + +Her lips quivered slightly. She turned her head away and looked out of +the window at the horrible maze of houses in the Bronx and the +disfiguring sign-boards. + +New York was slipping away. All my old life was slipping away like +this--and evil following us. I slipped one of the automatics out of my +suit-case into my pocket and swore that I would guard Jacqueline from +any shadow of harm. + +Each minute that I spent with her increased my passion for her. I had +ceased to have illusions on that score. One question recurred to my +mind incessantly. Could she be ignorant that she had a husband +somewhere? Would she tell me--or was this the chief of the memories +that she had laid aside? + +I opened one of the newspapers that I had bought at the station +bookstand, dreading to find in flaring letters the headlines announcing +the discovery of the body. + +I found the announcement--but in small type. The murder was ascribed +to a gang battle--the man could not be identified, and apparently both +police and public considered the affair merely one of those daily +slayings that occur in that city. + +Another newspaper devoted about the same amount of space to the +account, but it published a photograph of the dead man, taken in the +alley, where, it appeared, the reporter had viewed the body before it +had been removed. The photograph looked horribly lifelike. I cut it +out and placed it in my pocketbook. + +For the present I felt safe. I believed the affair would be forgotten +soon. And meanwhile here was Jacqueline. + +I turned toward her. She was asleep at my side, and her head drooped +on my shoulder. We sat thus all the afternoon, while the city +disappeared behind us, and we passed through Connecticut and approached +the Vermont hills. + +Then we had a gay little supper in the dining car. Afterward I walked +to the car entrance and flung the broken dog collar away--across the +fields. That was the last link that bound us to the past. + +Then the berths were lowered and made up; and fastening from my upper +place the curtain which fell before Jacqueline's, I knew that, for one +night more, at least, I held her in safe ward. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +M. LE CURÉ + +The very obvious decision at which I arrived after a night of +cogitation in my berth was that Jacqueline was to pass as my sister. I +explained my plan to her at breakfast. + +There had been the examination of baggage at the frontier and the +tiresome change to a rear car in the early morning, and most of us were +heavy-eyed, but she looked as fresh and charming as ever in her new +waist of black lace and the serge skirt which she had bought the day +before. It seemed impossible to realize that I was really seated +opposite her in the dining car, talking amid the punctuating chatter of +a party of red-cheeked French-Canadian school children who had come on +the train at Sherbrooke, bound for their home on the occasion of the +approaching Christmas holidays. + +"You see, Jacqueline," I explained, "it will look strange our +travelling together, unless some close relationship is supposed to +exist between us. I might subject you to embarrassment--so I shall +call you my sister, Miss Hewlett, and you will call me your brother +Paul." And I handed her my visiting card, because she had never heard +my surname before. + +"I shall be glad to think of you as my brother Paul," she answered, +looking at the card. She held it in her right hand, and it was not +until the middle of the meal that the left hand came into view. + +Then I discovered that she had taken off her wedding ring. + +I wondered what thought impelled her to do this, whether it was +coquetry or the same instinct which seemed to interpret the situation +at all times perfectly, though it never welled up into her +consciousness. + +We sped northward all that morning, stopping at many little wayside +stations, and as we rushed along beside the ice-bound St. Francis the +air ever grew colder, and the land, deep in snow, and the tall pines, +white with frost, looked like a picture on a Christmas card. + +At last the St. Lawrence appeared, covered with drifting floes; the +Isle of Orleans, with the Falls of Montmorency behind it; the ascending +heights which slope up to the Château Frontenac, the fort-crowned +citadel, the long parapet, bristling with guns. + +Then, after the ferry had transferred us from Levis we stood in Lower +Quebec. + +We had hardly gone on board the ferryboat when an incident occurred +that greatly disturbed me. A slightly built, well-dressed man, with a +small, upturned mustache and a face of notable pallor, passed and +repassed us several times, staring and smiling with cool effrontery at +both of us. + +He wore a lambskin cap and a fur overcoat, and I could not help +associating him with the dead man, or avoiding the belief that he had +travelled north with us, and that Leroux had been to see him off at the +station. + +I was a good deal troubled by this, but before I had decided to address +the fellow we landed, and a sleigh swept us up the hill toward the +château to the tune of jingling bells. It was a strange wintry +scene--the low sleighs, their drivers wrapped in furs and capped in +bearskin, the hooded nuns in the streets, the priests, soldiers, and +ancient houses. The air was keen and dry. + +"This is Quebec, Jacqueline," I said. + +I thought that she remembered unwillingly, but she said nothing. + +I dared ask her no questions. I fancied that each scene brought back +its own memories, but not the ideas associated with the chain of scenes. + +We secured adjacent rooms at the château, and leaving Jacqueline to +unpack her things, and under instructions not to leave her room and +promising to return as soon as possible, I started out at once to find +Maclay & Robitaille's. + +This proved a task of no great difficulty. It was a little shop where +leather goods were sold, situated on St. Joseph Street. A young man +with a dark, clean-shaven face, was behind the counter. He came +forward courteously as I approached. + +"I have come on an unusual mission," I began foolishly and stopped, +conscious of the inanity of this address. What a stupid thing to have +said! I must have aroused his suspicions immediately. + +He begged my pardon and called a man from another part of the shop. +And that gave me my chance over again, for I realized that he had not +understood my English. + +"Do you remember," I asked the newcomer, "selling a collar to a young +lady recently--no, some long time ago--a dog-collar, I mean?" + +The proprietor shrugged his shoulders. "I sell a good many dog-collars +during the year," he answered. + +I took the plate from my pocket and set it down on the counter. "The +collar was set with silver studs," I said. "This was the plate." Then +I remembered the name Leroux had used and flung it out at random. "I +think it was for a Mlle. Duchaine," I added. + +The shot went home. + +"Ah, _monsieur_, now I remember perfectly," answered the proprietor, +"both from the unusual nature of the collar and from the fact that +there was some difficulty in delivering it. There was no post-office +nearer the _seigniory_ than St. Boniface, where it lay unclaimed for a +long time. I think _madamoiselle_ had forgotten all about the order. +Or perhaps the dog had died!" + +"Where is this _seigniory_?" + +"The _seigniory_ of M. Charles Duchaine?" he answered, looking +curiously at me. "You are evidently a stranger, _monsieur_, or you +would have heard of it, especially now when people are saying that----" +He checked himself at this point. "It is the oldest of the +_seigniories_," he continued. "In fact, it has never passed out of the +hands of the original owners, because it is almost uninhabitable in +winter, except by Indians. I understand that M. Duchaine has built +himself a fine château there; but then he is a recluse _monsieur_, and +probably not ten men have ever visited it. But _mademoiselle_ is too +fine a woman to be imprisoned there long----" + +"How could one reach the château?" I interpolated. + +He looked at me inquiringly as though he wondered what my business +there could be. + +"In summer," he replied, "one might ascend the Rivière d'Or in a canoe +for half the distance, until one reached the mountains, and then----" +He shrugged his shoulders. "I do not know. Possibly one would inquire +of the first trapper who passed in autumn. In winter one would fly. +It is strange that so little is known of the _seigniory_, for they say +the Rivière d'Or----" + +"The Golden River?" + +"Has vast wealth in it, and formerly the Indians would bring gold-dust +in quills to the traders. But many have sought the source of this +supply in past times and failed or died, and so----" He shrugged his +shoulders again. + +"You see, M. Duchaine is a hermit," he continued. "Once, so my father +used to say, he was one of the gayest young men in Quebec. But he +became involved in the troubles of 1867--and then his wife died, and so +lie withdrew there with the little _mademoiselle_--what was her name?" + +He called his clerk. + +"Alphonse, what is the name of that pretty daughter of M. Charles +Duchaine, of Rivière d'Or?" he asked. + +"Annette," answered the man. "No, Nanette. No Janette. I am sure it +ends with 'ette' or 'ine,' anyway." + +"_Eh bien_, it makes no difference," said the proprietor, "because, +since she left the Convent of the Ursulines here in Quebec, where she +was educated, her father keeps her at the château, and you are not +likely to set eyes on M. Charles Duchaine's daughter." + +A sudden stoppage in his flow of words, an almost guilty look upon his +face, as a new figure entered the little shop, directed my attention +toward the stranger. + +He was an old man of medium size, very muscularly built, stout, and +with enormous shoulders. He wore a priest's _soutane_, but he did not +look like a priest--he looked like a man's head on a bull body. His +smooth face was tanned to the colour of an Indian's--his bright blue +eyes, almost concealed by their drooping, wrinkled lids, were piercing +in their scrutiny. + +He wore a bearskin hat and furs of surprising quality. It was not so +much his strange appearance that attracted my interest as the singular +look of authority upon the face, which was yet deeply lined about the +mouth, as though he could relax upon occasion and become the jolliest +of companions. + +And he spoke a pure French, interspersed with words of an uncouth +patois, which I ascribed to long residence in some remote parish. + +"_Bo'jour_, Père Antoine," said the shopkeeper deferentially, fixing +his eyes rather timidly upon the old priest's face. + +"_Eh bien_, who is this with whom thou gossipest concerning the +daughter of M. Duchaine?" inquired Father Antoine, looking at me keenly. + +"Only a customer--a stranger, _monsieur_," answered the proprietor, +rubbing his hands together. "He wishes to see--a dog collar, was it +not?" he continued, turning nervously toward me. + +"You talk too much," said Père Antoine roughly. "Now, _monsieur_," he +said, addressing me in fair English, "what is the nature of your +business that it can possibly concern either M. Duchaine or his +daughter? Perhaps I can inform you, since he is one of my +parishioners." + +"My conversation was not with you, _monsieur le curé_," I answered +shortly, and left the shop. I had ascertained what I needed to know, +and had no desire to enter into a discussion of my business with the +old man. + +I had not gone three paces from the door, however, when the priest, +coming up behind me, placed a huge hand upon my shoulder and swung me +around without the least apparent effort. + +"I do not know what your business is, _monsieur_," he said, "but if it +were an honest one you would state it to me. If you wish to see M. +Duchaine I am best qualified to assist you to do so, since I visit his +château twice each year to carry the consolations of religion to him +and his people. But if your business is not honest it will fail. End +it then and return to your own country." + +"I do not intend to discuss my business with you, _monsieur_," I +answered angrily. It is humiliating to be in the physical grip of +another man, even though he be a priest. + +He let me go and stood eyeing me with his keen gaze. I jumped on a +passing car, but looking back, I saw him striding along behind it. He +seemed to walk as quickly as the car went through the crowded street, +and with no effort. + +When I got off in the neighbourhood of the Place d'Armes it was nearly +dark; but though I could not see the old man, I was convinced that he +was still following me. + +I found Jacqueline in her room looking over her purchases, and took her +down to dinner. + +And here I had another disconcerting experience, for hardly were we +seated when the inquisitive stranger whom I had seen at the ferry came +into the dining-room, and after a careful survey which ended as his +eyes fell on us, he took his seat at an adjacent table. + +I could not but connect him with our presence there. + +Leroux was due to arrive at any moment. I realized that great issues +were at stake, that the man would never cease in his attempts to get +hold of Jacqueline. Only when I had returned her to her father's house +would I feel safe from him. + +The château was the worst place to have made my headquarters. If I had +realized the man's persistence, perhaps I would have sought less +conspicuous lodgings. Leroux's behaviour at the railroad station had +betrayed both an ungovernable temper when he was crossed, and to a +certain extent, fearlessness. + +Nevertheless I believed him to have also an elemental cunning which +would dissuade him from violent measures so long as we were in Quebec. +I resolved, therefore, not to avoid him, but to await his lead. + +After dinner I had some conversation with one of the hotel clerks. I +discovered that the Rivière d'Or flowed into the Gulf of St. Lawrence +from the north, in the neighbourhood of Anticosti. + +It was a small stream, and except for a postal station at its mouth +named St. Boniface, was little known, the only occupants of those parts +being trappers and Indians. + +When I told the clerk that I had business at St. Boniface I think he +concluded that I represented an amalgamation of fishing interests, for +he became exceedingly communicative. + +"You could hire dogs and a sleigh at St. Boniface for wherever your +final destination is," he said, "because the dog mail has been +suspended owing to the new government mail-boats, and the sleighs are +idle. I think Captain Dubois would take you on his boat as far as that +point, and I believe he makes his next trip in a couple of days." + +He gave me the captain's address, and I resolved to call on him early +the following day and make arrangements. + +I was just turning away when I saw the inquisitive stranger leave the +smoking-room. He crossed the hall and went out, not without bestowing +a long look on me. + +"Who is that man?" I asked. + +"Why, isn't he a friend of yours?" inquired the clerk. + +"Only by the way he stares at me," I said. + +"Well, he said he thought he knew you and asked me your name," the +clerk answered. "He didn't give me his, and I don't think he has been +in here before." + +I took Jacqueline for a stroll on the Terrace, and while we walked I +pondered over the problem. + +The night was too beautiful for my depression of mind to last. The +stars blazed brilliantly overhead; upon our left the faint outlines of +the Laurentians rose, in front of us the lights of Levis twinkled above +the frozen gulf. There was a flicker of Northern Lights in the sky. + +We paced the Terrace, arm in arm, from the statue of Champlain that +overlooks the Place d'Armes to the base of the mighty citadel, and +back, till the cold drove us in. + +Jacqueline was very quiet, and I wondered what she remembered. I +dreaded always awakening her memory lest, with that of her home, came +that other of the dead man. + +Our rooms were on the side of the Château facing the town, and as we +passed beneath the arch I saw two men standing no great distance away, +and watching us, it seemed to me. + +One wore the cassock of a priest, and I could have sworn that he was +Père Antoine; the other resembled the inquisitive stranger. As we drew +near they moved behind a pillar. Thus, inexorably, the chase drew near. + +My suspicions received confirmation a few minutes later, for we had +hardly reached our rooms, and I was, in fact, standing at the door of +Jacqueline's, bidding her good night, when a bellboy came along the +passage and announced that the gentleman whom I was expecting was +coming up the stairs. + +I said good-night to Jacqueline and went into my room and waited. I +had thought it would be the stranger, but it was the priest. + +I invited him to enter, and he came in and stood with his fur cap on +his head, looking direfully at me. + +"Well, _monsieur_, what is the purpose of this visit?" I asked. + +"To tell you," he thundered, "that you must give up the unhappy woman +who has accompanied you here." + +"That is precisely what I intend to do," I answered. + +"To me," he said. "Her husband----" + +I felt my brain whirling. I knew now that I had always cherished a +hope, despite the ring--what a fool I had been! + +"I married them," continued Père Antoine. + +"Where is he?" I demanded desperately. + +He appeared disconcerted. I gathered from his stare that he had +supposed I knew. + +"This is a Catholic country," he went on, more quietly. "There is no +divorce; there can be none. Marriage is a sacrament. Sinning as she +is----" + +I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I will not hear any more," I said. +"Go!" I pointed toward the door. + +"I am going to take her away with me," he said, and crossing the +threshold into the corridor, placed one hand on the door of +Jacqueline's room. + +I got there first. I thrust him violently aside--it was like pushing a +monument; turned the key, which happily was still outside, and put it +in my pocket. + +"I am ready to deal with her husband," I said. "I am not ready to deal +with you. Leave at once, or I will have you arrested, priest or no +priest." + +He raised his arm threateningly. "In God's name--" he began. + +"In God's name you shall not interfere with me," I cried. "Tell that +to your confederate, Simon Leroux. A pretty priest you are!" I raged. +"How do I know she has a husband? How do I know you are not in league +with her persecutors? How do I know you are a priest at all?" + +He seemed amazed at the violence of my manner. + +"This is the first time my priesthood has been denied," he said +quietly. "Well, I have offered you your chance. I cannot use +violence. If you refuse, you will bring your own punishment upon your +head, and hers on that of the unhappy woman whom you have led into sin." + +"Go!" I shouted, pointing down the passage. + +He turned and went, his _soutane_ sweeping against the door of +Jacqueline's room as he went by. At the entrance to the elevator he +turned again and looked back steadily at me. Then the door clanged and +the elevator went down. + +I unlocked the door of Jacqueline's room. I saw her standing at the +foot of the bed. She was supporting herself by her hands on the brass +framework. Her face was white. As I entered she looked up piteously +at me. + +"Who--was--that?" she asked in a frightened whisper. + +"An impudent fellow--that is all, Jacqueline." + +"I thought I knew his voice," she answered slowly. "It made +me--almost--remember. And I do not want to remember, Paul." + +She put her arms about my neck and cried. I tried to comfort her, but +it was a long time before I succeeded. + +I locked her door on the outside, and that night I slept with the key +beneath my pillow. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFF + +The next morning, after again cautioning Jacqueline not to leave her +room until I returned, I went to the house of Captain Dubois on Paul +Street, in the Lower Town. + +I was admitted by a pleasant-looking woman who told me that the captain +would not be home until three in the afternoon, so I returned to the +château, took Jacqueline for a sleigh ride round the fortifications, +and delighted her, and myself also, by the purchase of two fur coats, +heavy enough to exclude the biting cold which I anticipated we should +experience during our journey. + +In the afternoon I went back to Paul Street and found M. Dubois at +home. He was a man of agreeable appearance, a typical Frenchman of +about forty-five, with a full face sparsely covered with a black beard +that was beginning to turn grey at the sides, and with an air of +sagacious understanding, in which I detected both sympathy and a +lurking humour. + +When I explained that I wanted to secure two passages to St. Boniface, +his brows contracted. + +"So you, too, are going to the Château Duchaine!" he exclaimed. "Is +there not room for two more on the boat of Captain Duhamel?" + +I disclaimed all knowledge of Duhamel, but he looked entirely +unconvinced. + +"It is a pity, _monsieur_, that you are not acquainted with Captain +Duhamel," he said dryly, "because I cannot take you to St. Boniface. +But undoubtedly Captain Duhamel will assist you and your friend on your +way to the Château Duchaine." + +"Why do you suppose that I am going to the Château Duchaine?" I +inquired angrily. + +He flared up, too. "_Diable_!" he burst out, "do you suppose all +Quebec does not know what is in the wind? But since you are so +ignorant, _monsieur_, I will enlighten you. We will assume, to begin +then, that you are not going to the château, but only to St. Boniface, +perhaps to engage in fishing for your support. Eh, _monsieur_?" + +Here he looked mockingly at my fur coat, which hardly bore out this +presumption of my indigence. + +"_Eh bien_, to continue. Let us suppose that the affairs of M. Charles +Duchaine have interested a gentleman of business and politics whom we +will call M. Leroux--just for the sake of giving him a name, you +understand," he resumed, looking at me maliciously. "And that this M. +Leroux imagines that there is more than spruce timber to be found on +the seigniory. _Bien_, but consider further that this M. Leroux is a +mole, as we call our politicians here. It would not suit him to appear +openly in such an enterprise? He would always work through his agents +in everything would he not being a mole? + +"Let us say then that he arranges with a Captain Duhamel to convey his +party to St. Boniface to which point he will go secretly by another +route and that he will join them there and--in short, _monsieur_, take +yourself and your friend to the devil, for I won't give you passage." + +His face was purple, and I assumed that he bore no love for Simon, +whose name seemed to be of considerable importance in Quebec. I was +delighted at the turn affairs were taking. + +"You have not a very kindly feeling for this mythical person whom we +have agreed to call Leroux," I said. + +Captain Dubois jumped out of his chair and raised his arms passionately +above him. + +"No, nor for any of his friends," he answered. "Go back to him--for I +know he sent you to me--and tell him he cannot hire Alfred Dubois for +all the money in Canada." + +"I am glad to hear you say that," I answered, "because Leroux is no +friend of mine. Now listen to me, Captain Dubois. It is true that I +am going to the château, if I can get there, but I did not know that +Leroux had made his arrangements already. In brief, he is in pursuit +of me and I have urgent reasons for avoiding him. My companion is a +lady----" + +"Eh?" he exclaimed, looking stupidly at me. + +"And I am anxious to take her to the château, where we shall be safe +from the man----" + +"A lady!" exclaimed the captain. "A young one? Why didn't you tell me +so at first, _monsieur_? I'll take you. I will do anything for an +enemy of Leroux. He put my brother in jail on a false charge because +he wouldn't bow to him--my brother died there, _monsieur_--that was his +wife who opened the door to you. And the children, who might have +starved, if I had not been able to take care of them! And he has tried +to rob me of my position, only it is a Dominion one--the rascal!" + +The captain was becoming incoherent. He drew his sleeve across his +eyes. + +"But a lady!" he continued, with forced gaiety a moment later, "I do +not know your business, _monsieur_, but I can guess, perhaps----" + +"But you must not misunderstand me," I interposed. "She is not----" + +"It's all right!" said the captain, slapping me upon the back. "No +explanations! Not a word, I assure you. I am the most discreet of +men. Madeleine!" + +This last word was a deep-chested bellow, and in response a little girl +came running in, staggering under the weight of the captain's overcoat +of raccoon fur. + +"That is my overcoat voice," he explained, stroking the child's head. +"My niece, _monsieur_. The others are boys. I wish they were all +girls, but God knows best. And, you see, a man can save much trouble, +for by the tone in which I call Madeleine knows whether it is my +overcoat or my pipe or slippers that I want, or whether I am growing +hungry." + +I thought that the captain's hunger voice must shake the rafters of the +old building. + +"And now, _monsieur_," he continued seriously, when we had left the +house, "I am going to take you down to the pier and show you my boat. +And I will tell you as much as I know concerning the plans of that +scoundrel. In brief, it is known that a party of his friends has been +quartered for some time at the château; they come and go, in fact, and +now he is either taking more, or the same ones back again, and God +knows why he takes them to so desolate a region, unless, as the rumour +is, he has discovered coal-fields upon the seigniory and holds M. +Duchaine in his power. Well, _monsieur_, a party sails with Captain +Duhamel on tonight's tide, which will carry me down the gulf also. + +"You see, _monsieur_," he continued, "it is impossible to clear the ice +unless the tide bears us down; but once the Isle of Orleans is past we +shall be in more open water and independent of the current. Captain +Duhamel's boat is berthed at the same pier as mine upon the opposite +side, for they both belong to the Saint-Laurent Company, which leases +them in winter. + +"We start together, then, but I shall expect to gain several hours +during the four days' journey, for I know the _Claire_ well, and she +cannot keep pace with my _Sainte-Vierge_. In fact it was only +yesterday that the government arranged for me to take over the +_Sainte-Vierge_ in place of the _Claire_, which I have commanded all +the winter, for it is essential that the mails reach St. Boniface and +the maritime villages as quickly as possible. So you must bring your +lady aboard the _Sainte-Vierge_ by nine to-night. + +"I shall telegraph to my friend Danton at St. Boniface to have a sleigh +and dogs at your disposal when you arrive, and a tent, food, and +sleeping bags," continued Captain Dubois, "for it must be a hundred and +fifty miles from St. Boniface to the Château Duchaine. It is not a +journey that a woman should take in winter," he added with a +sympathetic glance at me, "but doubtless your lady knows the way and +the journey well." + +The question seemed extraordinarily sagacious; it threw me into +confusion. + +"You see, M. Danton carried the mails by dog-sleigh before the +steamship winter mail service was inaugurated," he went on, "and now he +will be glad of an opportunity to rent his animals. So I shall wire +him tonight to hold them for you alone, and shall describe you to him. +And thus we will check M. Leroux's designs, which have doubtless +included this point. And so, with half a day's start, you will have +nothing to fear from him--only remember that he has no scruples. +Still, I do not think he will catch you and Mlle. Jacqueline before you +reach Château Duchaine," he ended, chuckling at his sagacity. + +"Ah, well, _monsieur_, who else could your lady be?" he asked, smiling +at my surprise. "I knew well that some day she must leave those wilds. +Besides, did I not convey her here from St. Boniface on my return, less +than a week ago, when she pleaded for secrecy? I suspected something +agitated her then. So it was to find a husband that she departed thus? +When she is home again, kneeling at her old father's feet, pleading for +forgiveness, he will forgive--have no fear, _mon ami_." + +So Jacqueline had left her home not more than a week before! And the +captain had no suspicion that she was married then! Yet Père Antoine +claimed to have performed the ceremony. + +To whom? And where was the man who should have stood in my place and +shielded her against Leroux? + +I made Dubois understand, not without difficulty, that we were still +unmarried. His face fell when he realized that I was in earnest, but +after a little he made the best of the situation, though it was evident +that some of the glamour was scratched from the romance in his opinion. + +By now we had arrived at the wharf. It was a short pier at the foot of +one of the numerous narrow streets that run down from the base of the +mighty cliff which ascends to the ramparts and Park Frontenac. On +either side, wedged in among the floes, lay a small ship of not many +tons' burden--the _Claire_ and the _Sainte-Vierge_ respectively. The +latter vessel lay upon our right as we approached the end of the wharf. + +"Hallo! Hallo, Pierre!" shouted Dubois in what must have resembled his +dinner voice, and a seaman with a short black beard came running up the +deck and stopped at the gangway. + +"It is all right," said Dubois, after a few moments' conversation. +"Pierre understands all that is necessary, and he will tell the men. +And now I will show you the ship." + +There was a small cabin for Jacqueline and another for myself +adjoining. This accommodation had been built for the convenience of +the passengers whom the Saint-Laurent Company, though its boats were +built for freight, occasionally accepted during its summer runs. I was +very well satisfied and inquired the terms. + +"If it were not for the children there should be no terms!" exclaimed +the captain. "But it is hard, _monsieur_, with prices rising and the +hungry mouths always open, like little birds." + +He was overjoyed at the sight of the fifty dollars which I tendered +him. However, my generosity was not wholly disingenuous. I felt that +it would be wise to make one stanch friend in that unfriendly city; and +money does bind, though friendship exist already. + +"By the way," I said, "do you know a priest named Père Antoine?" + +"An old man? A strong old man? Why, assuredly, _monsieur_," answered +the captain. "Everybody knows him. He has the parish of the Rivière +d'Or district, and the largest in Quebec. As far as Labrador it is +said to extend, and he covers it all twice each year, in his canoe or +upon snowshoes. A saint, _monsieur_, as not all of our priests are, +alas! You will do well to make his acquaintance." + +He placed one brawny hand upon my shoulder and swung me around. + +"Now at last I understand!" he bellowed. "So it is Père Antoine who is +to make you and mademoiselle husband and wife! And you thought to +conceal it from me, _monsieur_!" he continued reproachfully. + +His good-humour being completely restored by this prospective +consummation of the romance, the captain parted from me on the wharf on +his way to the telegraph-office, repeating his instructions to the +effect that we were to be aboard the boat by nine, as he would not be +able to remain later than that hour on account of the tide. + +It had grown dark long before and, looking at my watch, I was surprised +to see that it was already past six o'clock. I had no time to lose in +returning to the château. + +But though I could see it outlined upon the cliff, I soon found myself +lost among the maze of narrow streets in which I was wandering. I +asked the direction of one or two wayfarers, but these were all men of +the labouring class, and their instructions, given in the provincial +patois, were quite unintelligible to me. + +A man was coming up the street behind me, and I turned to question him, +but as I decreased my pace, he diminished his also, and when I +quickened mine, he went faster as well. I began to have an uneasy +sense that he might be following me, and accordingly hastened onward +until I came to a road which seemed to lead up the hill toward the +ramparts. + +The château now stood some distance upon my left, but once I had +reached the summit of the cliff it would only be a short walk away. + +The road, however, led me into a blind alley, the farther extremity +being the base of the cliff; but another street emerged from it at a +right angle, and I plunged into this, believing that any of the byways +would eventually take me to the top of the acclivity. + +As I entered this street I heard the footsteps behind me quicken and, +looking around, perceived that the man was close upon me. He stopped +at the moment I did and disappeared in a small court. + +There was nothing remarkable in this, only to my straining eyes he +seemed to bear a resemblance to the man with the patch whom I had +encountered at the corner of Sixth Avenue on that night when I met +Jacqueline. + +I knew from Leroux's statement to me that the man had been a member of +his gang. I was quite able to take care of myself under normal +circumstances. + +But now--I was afraid. The mighty cliff before me, the silence of the +deserted alleys in which I wandered helplessly, the thought of +Jacqueline alone, waiting anxiously for my return, almost unmanned me. +I felt like a hunted man, and my safety, upon which her own depended, +attained an exaggerated importance in my mind. + +So I almost ran forward into the byway which seemed to lead toward the +summit, and as I did so I heard the footsteps close behind me again. + +I had entered one of the narrowest streets I had ever seen, and the +most curious. It was just wide enough to admit the passage of a sleigh +perhaps; the crumbling and dilapidated old houses, which seemed +deserted, were connected overhead by a succession of wooden bridges, +and those on my left were built into the solid rock, which rose sheer +overhead. + +In front of me the alley seemed to widen. I almost ran; but when I +reached it I found that it was merely a bend in the passage, and the +alley ran on straight as before. + +On my left hand was a tiny unfenced courtyard, not more than six yards +in area, and I turned into this quickly and waited. I was confident +that the bend in the street had hidden me from my pursuer and, as I +anticipated, he came on at a swifter rate. + +He was abreast of me when I put out my hand and grasped him by the +coat, while with the other I felt in my pocket for my automatic pistol. + +It was not there. I had left it in the pocket of the overcoat which I +had changed at the furrier's shop and had sent to the château. And I +was looking into the villainous face of the ruffian who had knocked me +down on Sixth Avenue. + +"What are you following me for?" I cried furiously. + +He wrenched himself out of my grasp and pulled a long knife from his +pocket. I caught him by the wrist, and we wrestled to and fro upon the +snow. He pummelled me about the face with his free hand, but though I +was no match for him in strength, he could not get the knife from me. +The keen steel slashed my fingers, but the thought of Jacqueline helped +me. + +I got his hand open, snatched the knife, and flung it far away among +the stunted shrubs that clung to the cliffside. And we stood watching +each other, panting. + +He did not try to attack me again, but stood just out of my reach, +grinning diabolically at me. His gaze shifted over my shoulder. +Instinctively I swung around as the dry snow crackled behind me. + +I was a second too late, for I saw nothing but the looming figure of a +second ruffian and his upraised arm; then painless darkness seemed to +enfold me, and I was conscious of plunging down into a fathomless abyss. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CAPTAIN DUBOIS + +Clang! Clang! + +It sounded as though some titanic blacksmith were pounding on a mighty +anvil to a devil's chorus of laughter. And I was bound to the steel, +and each blow awakened hideous echoes which went resounding through my +brain forever. + +Clang! Clang! + +The blows were rhythmical, and there was a perceptible interval between +each one and the next; they were drawn out and intolerably slow, and +seemed to have lasted through uncountable eons. + +I strove to free myself. I knew that it was a dream from which I must +awaken, for the fate of the whole world depended on my awakening from +the bonds of sleep. + +It would be so easy to sink down into a deeper slumber, where even the +clanging of the anvil beneath those hammer strokes would not longer be +heard; but against this was the imperative need to save--not the world +now, but---- + +The name was as sweet as honey upon my lips. It was something worth +living for. It was--Jacqueline! + +The remembrance freed me. Dimly consciousness began to return. I knew +the hammering was my own heart, forcing the blood heavily through the +arteries of the brain. + +That name--Annette--Jeannette--Jacqueline! + +I had gone back to my rooms and saw a body upon the floor. Jacqueline +had killed somebody, and I must save her! + +All through the mist-wrapped borderland of life I heard her voice +crying to me, her need of me dragging me back to consciousness. I +struggled up out of the pit, and I saw light. + +Suddenly I realized that my eyes were wide open and that I was staring +at the moon over the housetops. With consciousness came pain. My head +throbbed almost unbearably, and I was stiff with cold. I raised myself +weakly, and then I became aware that somebody was bending over me. + +It was a roughly dressed, rough-looking denizen of the low quarter into +which I had strayed. His arms were beneath my neck, raising my head, +and he was looking into my face with an expression of great concern +upon his own good-natured one. + +"I thought you were dead!" I could make out amid the stream of his +dialect, but the remainder of his speech was beyond my understanding. + +"Help me!" I muttered, reaching for his hand. + +He understood the gesture, for he assisted me to my feet, and, after I +had leaned weakly against the wall of a house for a minute or two, I +found that I could stand unassisted. + +I looked round in bewilderment. + +"Where am I?" I asked, still bound by that first memory of New York. + +"In Sous-le-Cap, _m'sieur_," answered the man. + +I felt in my pocket for my watch and drew it out. It was strange that +the men had not robbed me, but I suppose they had become terrified at +their work and had run off. However, I did not think of that at the +time. + +I think my action was an automatic one, the natural refuge for a +perplexed man. But the sight of the time brought back my memory, and +the events of the day rushed back into my mind with a force that seemed +to send an accession of new strength through my limbs. + +It was a few minutes past eight. And the boat sailed at nine. I must +have lain stunned in Sous-le-Cap Street for an hour and a half, at +least, and only the supreme necessity of awakening, realized through +unconsciousness, had saved me from dying under the snows. + +I found that I could walk, and having explained to the man that I +wished to go to the château, was taken by him to the top of a winding +road near at hand, from which I could see my destination at no great +distance from me. + +Dismissing my friendly guide, and sending him back rejoicing with +liberal largesse, I hurried as quickly as I could make my way along the +ramparts, past the frowning, ancient cannon skirting the park, until I +burst into the château at half past the hour. + +I must have presented a dreadful spectacle, for my hair and collar were +matted with blood, and I saw the guests stare and shrink from me. The +clerk came toward me and stopped me at the entrance to the elevator. + +"Where as Miss Hewlett?" I gasped. + +"Didn't you meet her? She left here nearly an hour ago." + +I caught him by the arm, and I think he imagined that I was going to +seize him by the throat also, for he backed away from me, and I saw a +look of fear come into his eyes. The elevator attendant came running +between us. + +"Your friend----" he began. + +"My _friend_?" I cried. + +"He came for her and said that you had met with an accident," the clerk +continued. "She went with him at once. He took her away in a sleigh. +I was sure that you had missed her when you came in." + +But already I was half-way across the hall and running for the door. I +raced wildly across the court and toward the terrace. + +The meaning of the scheme was clear. Jacqueline was on Captain +Duhamel's boat, which sailed at nine. And only twenty minutes remained +to me. If I had not had the good luck to meet Dubois! + +I must have noticed a clock somewhere during the minute that I was in +the château, and though I had not been conscious of it, the after-image +loomed before my eyes. As I ran now I could see a huge phantom clock, +the dial marked with enormous Roman letters, and the hands moving with +dreadful swiftness toward the hour of nine. + +I had underestimated Leroux's shrewdness. He must have telegraphed +instructions from New York before my train was out of the county, +secured the boat, laid his plans during his journey northward, and had +me struck down while Jacqueline was stolen from my care. And he had +spared no details, even to enlisting the aid of Père Antoine. + +If he had known that my destination was the same as his, he might have +waited. But it was not the character of the man to wait, any more than +it was to participate personally in his schemes. He worked through +others, sitting back and pulling the strings, and he struck, each blow +on time. + +I ought to have known that. I should have read him better. I had +always dawdled. I trusted to the future, instead of acting. What +chance had I against a mind like his? + +I was a novice at chess, pitting myself against a master at the game. + +I must have been running aimlessly up and down the terrace, blindly +searching for a road down to the lower town, for a man seized me by the +sleeve, and I looked into the face of the hotel clerk again. He seemed +to realize that more was the matter even than my appearance indicated, +for he asked no questions, but apparently divined my movements. + +"This way!" he said, and hurried me to a sort of subway entrance, and +down a flight of steps. Before me I saw the turnstile which led to a +cable railway. He paid my fare and thrust me into a car. A boy came +to close the latticed door. + +"Wait!" I gasped. "Who was it that called?" + +"The man with the mustache who asked for you--about whom you inquired." + +I turned away. I had thought it was Leroux. Of course it had not been +he. + +The car glided down the cliff, and stopped a few seconds later, I +emerged through another turnstile and found myself in the lower town +again at the foot of the precipice, above which rose the château with +its imposing façade, the ramparts, and the towering citadel. + +The hands of the phantom clock pointed to ten minutes of nine. But I +knew the gulf lay before me at the end of the short, narrow street that +led down to it, up which I had passed two hours before upon that +journey which so nearly ended in the snow-drifts of Souse-le-Cap. + +I reached the wharf and raced along the planks. I was in time, +although the engines were throbbing in the _Sainte-Vierge_. But it was +not she, but the dark _Claire_ I sought at that moment, and I dashed +toward her. + +A man barred my approach. He caught me in his strong arms and held me +fast. I dash my fists against his face, but he would not let me go. + +"Are you mad, _monsieur_?" he burst out as I continued to struggle. +And then I recognized my captor as Captain Dubois. + +"Jacqueline is on the _Claire_!" I cried, trying to make him +understand. "They took her there. They----" + +"It is all right," answered Dubois, holding me with one hand, while +with the other he wiped a blood drop from his lip where I had struck +him. "It is all right. I have her." + +I stared wildly at him. "She is on the _Claire_!" I cried again. + +"No, _mon ami_. She is aboard the _Sainte-Vierge_," replied Dubois, +chuckling, "and if you wish to accompany _mademoiselle_ you must come +with me at once, for we are getting up steam." + +I could not believe him. I thought that Leroux had tampered with the +honest man. It was not until he had taken me, half forcibly, aboard, +and opened the cabin door, that I saw her. She was seated upon her +berth, and she rose and came toward me with a glad little cry. + +"Jacqueline!" I cried, and clasped her in my arms for joy, and quite +forgot. + +A dancing shadow fell upon the wall behind the oil-lamp. The honest +captain was rubbing his hands in the doorway and chuckling with delight. + +"It is all right, it is all right; excuse me, _monsieur_," he said, and +closed the door on us. But I called him, and he returned, not very +reluctantly. + +"What has happened, captain?" I asked. "You are not going to leave me +in suspense?" + +"But what has happened to you, _monsieur_?" he asked, with great +concern, as he saw the blood on my coat-collar, "You have met with an +accident?" + +Jacqueline cried out and ran for water, and made me sit down, and began +bathing my head. I contrived to whisper something of what had occurred +during the moments when Jacqueline flitted to and fro. Dubois swore +roundly. + +"It is my fault, _monsieur_," he said. "I should have known. I should +have accompanied you home. It would be a tough customer who would +venture to meddle with Alfred Dubois! But I was anxious to get to the +telegraph office to inform M. Danton of your coming. And I suspected +something, too, for I knew that Leroux had something more in his mind +than simply to convey some of his men to St. Boniface at such expense. + +"So as soon as I had finished telegraphing I hurried home and bade +adieu to Marie and the little Madeline and the two nephews, and then I +came back to the boat--and that part I shall tell you later, for +_mademoiselle_ knows nothing of the plot against her, and has been +greatly distressed for you. So it shall be understood that you fell +down and hurt your head on the ice--eh?" + +I agreed to this. "But what did she think?" I asked, as Jacqueline +went back for some more water. + +"That you had sent her to the _Sainte-Vierge_," he answered, "and that +you were to follow her here--as you did. Even now the nephews are +searching the lower town for you." + +"But if I had not come before nine?" + +"I should have waited all night, _monsieur_, even though I had lost my +post for it," he said explosively, and I reached out and gripped his +hand. + +"You may not have seen the baggage here," continued the captain slyly. + +I glanced round me. Upon the floor stood the two suit-cases, which +should have been in our rooms in the château, and Jacqueline was busily +tearing up some filmy material in hers for bandages. + +I looked at Dubois in astonishment. + +"Ah, _monsieur_, I sent for those," he said, "and paid your bill also. +When I fight Simon Leroux I do not do things by halves. You see, +_monsieur_, wise though he is, there are other minds equal to his own, +and since he killed my brother, I----" + +Here he nearly broke down, and I looked discreetly away. + +"One question of curiosity, _monsieur_, if it is permissible," he said +a little later. "Why does Leroux wish so much to stop your marriage +with _mademoiselle_ that he is ready to stoop to assassination and +kidnapping?" + +My heart felt very warm toward the good man. I knew how that loose end +in the romance that he had built up troubled him. And, though I hardly +knew myself, I must give him some satisfactory solution of his problem. + +"Because he is himself in love with her," I said. + +The captain clenched his fists. "God forbid!" he muttered. "They say +his wife died of a broken heart. Ah, _monsieur_, swear to me that this +shall never come about, that mademoiselle become his wife. Swear it to +me, _mon ami_!" + +I swore it, and we shook hands again. I was sorry for my deception +then, and afterward I had occasion to remember it. + +Five minutes later we had cast off, and the _Sainte-Vierge_ steamed +slowly through the drift ice that packed the gulf. There were no +lights upon the _Claire_, and I surmised that the conspirators were +keeping quietly hidden in expectation of Jacqueline's arrival, though +how Dubois had outwitted them I could not at the time surmise. + +However, there was little doubt that once the trick was discovered the +_Claire_ would follow on our heels. + +Standing on deck, I watched the lights of Levis and Quebec draw +together as we steamed eastward. I cast a last look at the château and +the ramparts. I felt it would be many days before I set eyes on them +again. + +Then I sought my cabin and fell asleep, dreaming of Jacqueline. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DREAMS OF THE NIGHT + +Jacqueline and I were together, the only human beings within a score of +miles. We were seated side by side in the sleigh at which the dogs +pulled steadily. + +We glided with slow, easy monotony along the snow-covered trail, +through the sparse forest that fringed the ice-bound waters of the +Rivière d'Or. Seen through our tinted snow-glasses, the landscape was +a vast field of palest blue, dotted with scattered clusters of spruce +and pine trees. + +The mystery of Jacqueline's rescue by Captain Dubois had been a simple +one. The young man with the mustache was a certain Philippe Lacroix, +well known to Dubois, a member of a good family, but of dissolute +habits--just such a one as Leroux found it convenient to attach to his +political fortunes by timely financial aid. + +Having acquired power over him, Leroux was in this way enabled to +obtain political influence through his family connections. + +There was no doubt that he had been in New York with Leroux, and that +they had hatched the plot to kidnap Jacqueline after I had been struck +down. + +Fortunately for us, Lacroix, ignorant, as was Leroux himself, that the +two ships had exchanged roles and duties, took Jacqueline aboard the +_Sainte-Vierge_, where Captain Dubois, who was waiting in anticipation +of just such a scheme, seized him and marched him at pistol point to +the house on Paul Street, in which Lacroix was kept a prisoner by +friends of Dubois until the _Sainte-Vierge_ had sailed. + +The gulf was fairly free from ice, and our journey to St. Boniface, +where we arrived on the fifth morning after our departure from Quebec, +had been an uneventful one. We had not seen the smoke of the _Claire_ +behind us at any period during the voyage, and Dubois had not spared +his coal to show the other vessel his heels. + +He left us at St. Boniface with a final caution against Leroux, and +proceeded along the shore with his bags of mail; but first he had a +satisfactory conversation with M. Danton concerning us. + +I had given Dubois to understand that Jacqueline had been ill. I was +apprehensive that he might question her and so discover her mental +state; but the good man readily understood that an elopement causes +much mental anguish in the case of the feminine party--at least this +supposition was in line with the romantic requirements of the case, +according to all the books that the captain had ever read; and he +leaped at the hypothesis. + +He not only forbore to question Jacqueline, but he explained the +situation to Danton, a friendly but taciturn old man who kept the store +and post-office at St. Boniface. + +Danton, who of course knew Jacqueline, took the opportunity of assuring +me that her father, though a recluse and a misanthrope who had not left +his seigniory for forty years, was said to be a man of heart, and would +undoubtedly forgive us. He was clearly under the impression that we +were married, and, since Dubois had not enlightened him on this point, +I did not do so. + +In fact, his ignorance again aroused in me elusive hopes--for if a +marriage _had_ occurred would he not have known, of it? At any rate, I +should know soon; and with this reflection I had to console myself. + +Since Jacqueline was supposed to know the route, I could ask no direct +questions; but I gathered that the _château_ lay about a hundred and +twenty miles north-westward. For the first part of the journey we were +to travel along the right bank of the Rivière d'Or; at the point where +the mountains began there were some trappers' huts, and there doubtless +I could gain further information. + +M. Danton had his sleigh and eight fine-looking dogs ready for us. I +purchased these outright in order to carry no hostages. We took with +us several days' supply of food, a little tent, sleeping-bags, and +frozen fish for the animals. + +I must record that a small wharf was in course of construction, and +that the contractor's sign read: "Northern Exploitation Company." M. +Danton informed me that this was a lumber company which had already +begun operations, and that the establishment of its camps accounted for +the absence of inhabitants. + +In fact, our arrival was almost unobserved, and two hours afterward we +had set forth upon our journey. + +I wondered what Jacqueline remembered. Vague and unquiet thoughts +seemed to float up into her mind, and she sat by my side silent and +rather sad. I think she was afraid of the knowledge that was to come +to her. + +God knows I was, and for this reason was resolved to ask no questions +unless they should become necessary. Whether or not she even knew the +route I had no means of discovering. + +The sun shone brightly; the air, intensely cold, chilled our faces, but +could not penetrate our furs. Sometimes we rubbed each other's cheeks +with snow when they grew threateningly white, laughing to see the blood +rush to the under surface of the skin, and jested about our journey to +drive away our fears. + +And it was wonderful. It was as though we were the first man and woman +in the world, wandering in our snow-garden, and still lost in amazement +at each other. The prospect of meeting others of our kind began to be +a fantastic horror to me. + +We were happy with each other. If we could travel forever thus! I +watched her beautiful, serene face; the brown hair, brought low over +the ears to guard them against the cold; the big grey eyes that were +turned upon mine sometimes in puzzled wonder, but very real content. + +I held her small gloved hand inside the big sable muff, and we would +sit thus for hours in silence while the dogs picked their way along the +trail. When I looked back I could see the tiny pad-prints stretching +away toward the far horizon, an undeviating black blur upon the +whiteness of the snow. + +It was a strange situation. It might easily have become an impossible +one. But it was a sacred comradeship, refined above the love of friend +for friend, or lover for lover, by her faith, her helplessness, and +need. + +We tried so hard to be merry. When we had fed the dogs at noon and +eaten our meal we would strap on the _raquettes_, the snow-shoes with +which Danton had furnished us, and travel over the crusted drifts +beside the stream. We ran out on the surface of the river and made +snowballs, and pelted each other, laughing like school children. + +But after the journey had begun once more we would sit quietly beside +each other, and for long we would hardly utter a word. + +I think that she liked best to sit beside me in the narrow sleigh and +lean against my shoulder, her physical weariness the reflection of her +spiritual unrest. She did not want to think, and she wanted me to +shield her. + +But even in this solitude fear drove me on, for I knew that a +relentless enemy followed hard after us, camping where we had camped +and reading the miles between us by the smouldering ashes of our old +fires. + +At nightfall I would pitch the tent for Jacqueline and place her +sleeping-bag within, and while she slept I would lie by the huge fire +near the dogs, and we kept watch over her together. + +So passed three days and nights. + +The fourth short day drew toward its end a little after four o'clock. +I remember that we camped late, for the sun had already dipped to the +level horizon and was casting black, mile-long shadows across the snow. + +A whistling wind came up. The dogs had been showing signs of distress +that afternoon, pulling us more and more reluctantly, and walking with +drooping ears and muzzles depressed. + +I hammered in the pegs and built a fire with dry boughs, collecting a +quantity of wood sufficient to last until morning. Then Jacqueline +made tea, and we ate our supper and crept into our sleeping-bags and +lay down. + +"Three more days, dear, at most, and our journey and our troubles will +all be at an end," I had said. "Let us be happy together while we have +each other, and when our mutual need is past I shall stay with you +until you send me away." + +"That will never be, Paul," she answered simply. "But I shall be happy +with you while our day lasts." + +And I thought of the text: "For soon the long night cometh." + +I lay outside the tent, trying to sleep; but could not still my mind. +The uncertainty ahead of us, the knowledge of Leroux behind, tried me +sorely, and only Jacqueline's need sustained my courage. + +As I was on the point of dropping asleep I heard a lone wolf howl from +afar, and instantly the pack took up the cry. One of the dogs, a +great, tawny beast who led them, crept toward me and put his head down +by mine, whimpering. The rest roamed ceaselessly about the fire, +answering the wolf's challenge with deep, wolf-like baying. + +I drew my pistols from the pockets of my fur coat. It was pleasant to +handle them. They gave me assurance. We were two fugitives in a land +where every man's hand might be against us, but at least I had the +means to guard my own. + +And looking at them, I began to yield to that temptation which had +assailed me ceaselessly, both at Quebec and since we left St. Boniface, +not to yield up Jacqueline, never to let her go. + +Why should I bear the yoke of moral laws here in this wilderness, with +our pursuing enemy behind--a day's journey perhaps--but leaving me only +a breathing spell, a resting space, before I must fight for Jacqueline? +Or when her own had abandoned her? + +Jacqueline glided out of the tent and knelt beside me, putting her arms +about the dog's neck and her head upon its furry coat. The dogs loved +her, and she seemed always to understand their needs. + +"Paul, there is something wrong with them," she said, her hand still +caressing the mane of the great beast, who looked at her with pathetic +eyes. + +I had noticed that they did not eat that night, but had imagined that +they would do so later when they had recovered from their fatigue. + +"What is wrong with them, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +She raised her head and looked sadly at me. "It is I, Paul," she +answered. + +"You, Jacqueline?" + +"Yes, it is I!" she cried with sudden, passionate vehemence. "It is +_I_ who am wrong and have brought trouble on you. Paul, I do not even +know how you came into my life, nor who I am, nor anything that +happened to me at any time before you brought me to Quebec, except that +my home is there." She pointed northward. "Who am I? Jacqueline, you +say. The name means nothing to me. I am a woman without a past or +future, a shadow that falls across your life, Paul. And I could +perhaps remember, but I know--I _know_--that I must never remember." + +She began weeping wildly. I surmised that she must have been under an +intense strain for days. I had not dreamed that this girl who walked +by my side and paid me the tribute of her docile faith suffered and +knew. + +I took her hand in mine. "Dear Jacqueline," I answered, "it is best to +forget these things until the time comes to remember them. It will +come, Jacqueline. Let us be happy till then. You have been ill, and +you have had great trouble. That is all. I am taking you home. Do +you not remember anything about your home, Jacqueline?" + +She clapped her hands to her head and gave a little terrified cry. + +"I--think--so," she murmured. "But I dare not remember, Paul. + +"I have dreamed of things," she went on in agitated, rapid tones, "and +then I have seemed to remember everything. But when I wake I have +forgotten, and it is because I know that I must forget. Paul, I dream +of a dead man, and men who hate and are following us. Was +there--ever--a dead man, Paul?" she asked, shuddering. + +"No, dear Jacqueline," I answered stoutly. "Those dreams are lies." + +She still looked hopelessly at me, and I knew she was not quite +convinced. + +"Oh, it was not true, Paul?" she asked pleadingly, gathering each word +upon each indrawn breath. + +I placed one arm around her. + +"Jacqueline, there never was any dead man," I said. "It is not true. +Some day I will tell you everything--some day----" + +I broke off helplessly, for my voice failed me, I was so shaken. I +knew that at last I was conquered by the passion that possessed me, +long repressed, but not less strong for its repression. I caught her +in my arms. + +"I love you, Jacqueline!" I cried. "And you--you?" + +She thrust her hands out and turned her face away. There was an awful +fear upon it. "Paul," she cried, "there is--somebody--who---- + +"I have known that," she went on in a torrent of wild words. "I have +known that always, and it is the most terrible part of all!" + +I laid a finger on her lips. + +"There is nobody, Jacqueline," I said again, trying to control my +trembling voice. "He was another delirium of the night, a fantom of +your illness, dear. There was never anybody but me, and there shall +never be. For to-morrow we shall turn back toward St. Boniface again, +and we shall take the boat for Quebec--and from there I shall take you +to a land where there shall be no more grief, neither----" + +I broke off suddenly. What had I said? My words--why, the devil had +been quoting Scripture again! The bathos of it! My sacred task +forgotten and honour thrown to the winds, and Jacqueline helpless +there! I hung my head in misery and shame. + +But very sweetly she raised hers and spoke to me. + +"Paul, dear, if there never was anyone--if it is nothing but a +dream----" Here she looked at me with doubtful scrutiny in her eyes, +and then hastened to make amends for doubting me. "Of course, Paul, if +there had been you could not have known. But though I know my heart is +free--if there was nobody--why, let us go forward to my father's home, +because there will be no cause there to separate us, my dear. So let +us go on." + +"Yes, let us go on," I muttered dully. + +But when the issue came I knew that I would let no man stand between us. + +"And some day I am going to tell you everything I know, and you shall +tell me," she said. "But to-night we have each other, and will not +think of unhappy things--nor ever till the time comes." + +She leaned back against my shoulder and held out her hands to the +fire-light. She had taken off her left glove, and now again I saw the +wedding-ring upon her finger. + +She was asleep. I drew her head down on my knees and spread my coat +around her, and let her rest there. She was happy again in sleep, as +her nature was to be always. But, though I held her as she held my +heart, my soul seemed dead, and I waited sleepless and heard only the +whining of the heavy wind and scurry of the blown snow. + +The wolf still howled from afar, but the dogs only whimpered in answer +among the trees, where they had withdrawn. + +At last I raised her in my arms and carried her inside the tent. She +did not waken, but only stirred and murmured my name drowsily. I stood +outside the tent and listened to her soft breathing. + +How helpless she was! How trusting! + +That turned the battle. I loved her madly, but never again dare I +breathe a word of love to her so long as that shadow obscured her mind. +But if sunlight succeeded shadow---- + +The fire had sunk to a heap of red-grey ashes. I piled on fresh +boughs till the embers caught flame again and the bright spears danced +under the pines. The reek of smoking pine logs is in my nostrils yet. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE FUNGUS + +My rest was miserable. In a succession of brief dreams I fled with +Jacqueline over a wilderness of ice, while in the distance, ever +drawing nearer, followed Leroux, Lacroix, and Père Antoine. I heard +Jacqueline's despairing cries as she was torn from me, while my +weighted arms, heavier than lead, drooped helplessly at my sides, and +from afar Simon mocked me. + +Then ensued a world without Jacqueline, a dead eternity of ice and snow. + +I must have fallen sound asleep at last, for when I opened my eyes the +sun was shining brightly low down over the Rivière d'Or. The door of +the tent stood open and Jacqueline was not inside. + +With the remembrance of my dream still confusing reality, I ran toward +the trees, shouting for her in fear. + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" I called. + +She was coming toward me. She took me by the arm. "Paul!" she began +with quivering lips. "Paul!" + +She led me into the recesses of the pines. There, in a little open +place, clustered together upon the ground, were the bodies of our dogs. +All were dead, and the soft forms were frozen into the snow, which the +poor creatures had licked in their agony, so that their open jaws were +stuffed with icicles. + +Jacqueline sank down upon the ground and sobbed as though her heart +would break. I stood there watching, my brain paralyzed by the shock +of the discovery. + +Then I went back to the sleigh, on the rear of which the frozen fish +was piled. I noticed that it had a faint, slightly aromatic odor. I +flung the hard masses aside and scooped up a powdery substance with my +hands. + +Mycology had been a hobby of mine, and it was easy to recognize what +that substance was. + +It was the _amanita_, the deadliest and the most widely distributed of +the fungi, and the direst of all vegetable poisons to man and beast +alike. The alkaloid which it contains takes effect only some hours +after its ingestion, when it has entered the blood-streams and begun +its disintegrating action upon the red corpuscles. The dogs must have +partaken of it on the preceding afternoon. + +Jacqueline joined me. The tears were streaming down her cheeks; she +slipped her arm through mine and looked mutely at me. + +I knew this was Leroux's work. He had tricked me again. I had seen +clusters of the frozen fungus outside St. Boniface. I suppose that, +when winter comes suddenly, such growths remain standing till spring +thaws and rots them, retaining in the meanwhile all their noxious +qualities. + +It would have been an easy matter for one of Leroux's agents to have +cast a few handfuls of the deadly powder over the fish while the sleigh +stood waiting outside Danton's door, and the jolting of the vehicle +would have shaken the substance down into the middle of the heap, so +that it would be three or four days before the dogs got to the poisoned +fish. + +I was mad with anger. The white landscape seemed to swim before my +eyes. I meant to kill the man now, and without mercy. I would be as +unscrupulous as he. He would be in this place by the afternoon; I +would wait for him outside the trail. My pistols---- + +Jacqueline was looking up into my face in terror. The sight of her +recalled me to my senses. Leroux afterward--first my duty to her! + +"Paul! What is the matter, Paul?" she cried. "I never saw you look +like that before." + +I calmed myself and led her away, and presently we were standing before +the fire again. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "it is easier to go on than to turn back now." + +She watched me like a lip-reader. "Yes, Paul; let us go on," she +answered. + +So we went on. But our journey was to be very different now. There +was no possibility of taking much baggage with us. We took a few +things out of our suit-cases and disposed them about us as best they +could. + +The heavy sleeping-bags would have made our progress, encumbered as we +were with our fur coats, too slow; but I had hopes that we would reach +the trappers' huts that afternoon, and so decided to discard them in +favour of the fur-lined sleigh-rug, which would, at least, keep +Jacqueline warm. + +So we strapped on our snow-shoes, and I made a pack and put three days' +supplies of food in it and fastened it on my shoulders, securing it +with two straps from the harness. I rolled the rug into a bundle and +tied it below the pack; and thus equipped, we left the dead beasts and +the useless sleigh behind us for Leroux's satisfaction, and set out +briskly upon our march. + +It is a strange thing, but no sooner had I passed out of sight of the +sleigh than, weighted though I was, I felt my spirits rising rapidly. +The freedom of movement and the exhilarating air gave my mind a new +sense of liberty, and Jacqueline, who had been watching me anxiously, +seeing the gloom disappear from my face, tried, first to tempt me to +mirth, and then to match me in it. Sometimes we would run a little +way, and then we would fall back into our steady, ambling plod once +more. + +The cold was less intense, but, looking at the sky, which was heavily +overcast, I knew that the rise in temperature betokened the advent of a +heavy fall of snow, probably before night. + +We were merrier than at any previous time, having by tacit agreement +resolved to put our troubles behind us. Jacqueline laughed gaily at my +clumsy attempts to avoid tripping myself upon my snow-shoes. + +We stopped to look at the trees and the traces of deer-croppings upon +the bark. Sometimes we took to the river-bed, and then again we paced +among the trees, which were now becoming so sparsely scattered that the +trail was hardly discernible. This caused me no concern, however, for +I believed that when we reached the huts, we should be able to obtain +certain information as to the remainder of our course. + +And though I knew that Leroux was behind, and that he would press +forward the more impetuously when he discovered the success of his +deadly ruse, I did not seem to care. Above me was the pale sun, the +glow of health was in my limbs--and beside me walked Jacqueline. + +We must have covered at least a dozen miles or more at the time, when +we stopped for a brief midday meal. I was a little fatigued from +carrying the pack, and my ankles ached from the snow-shoes; but +Jacqueline, who had evidently been accustomed to their use, was as +fresh as when she started. + +I was glad of the respite; but we needed to press on. It was probable +that Simon would camp by our dismantled sleigh that night. + +When we resumed our march the character of the country began to change. +Hitherto we had been traversing an almost interminable plain, but now a +ridge of jagged mountains, bare at their peaks and fringed around the +base with evergreens, appeared in the distance. The sky became more +leaden. + +Suddenly we emerged from among the trees upon an almost barren plateau, +and there again we halted for a breathing spell. + +All that morning I had been looking for the trappers' huts. I had +already come to the conclusion that M. Danton's instructions were to be +taken by and large, for we could not now be more than twenty-five miles +from the château, and it was only here that the Rivière d'Or left us, +whirling in quick cascades, ice-free, among the rocks of its narrow +bed, some distance east of us. + +There was, of course, the possibility that the distance had been +understated, and that we were only now half way. But I could not let +my mind dwell upon that possibility. + +I scanned the horizon on every side. It had seemed to me all that day +that our road was running up-hill, but now, looking back, I was +astonished to see how high we had ascended, for the whole of the vast +plain across which we had been travelling lay spread out like a +wrinkled table-cloth before my eyes. + +In that grey light, which shortened every distance, it almost seemed +that I could discern the slope of the St. Lawrence far away, and the +hills, foot-spurs of the mighty Laurentian range, that bordered it. +The mountains which we were approaching seemed quite near, and I knew +that beyond them lay the seigniory. + +I resolved to take my bearings still more accurately, and telling +Jacqueline to wait for me a few minutes at the base of a hill and +setting down my pack, I began the ascent alone. The climb was longer +than I had anticipated. My eyes were aching from the glare of the +snow. I had left my coloured glasses behind me in the tent and gone +on, saying nothing, though I had realized my loss when I was only a +mile or so away. + +However, I hoped that the night would restore my sight, and so, +dismissing the matter from my mind, I struggled up until at last I +stood upon the summit of the hill. + +The view from this point was a stupendous one. New peaks sprang into +vision, shimmering in the sunlight. Patches of dark forest stained the +whiteness of the land, and far away, like a thin, winding ribbon among +the hills, I saw the valley of the Rivière d'Or. + +I cried out in delight and lingered to enjoy the grandeur of the +spectacle. + +Beneath me I saw Jacqueline waiting, a tiny figure upon the snow. My +heart smote me with a deep sense of reproach that I had put her to so +much sacrifice. But I had seen the valley between those mountains, the +only possible entrance to that mysterious land. Nothing could fail us +now. + +I cast my eyes beyond her toward the mist-wrapped tops of the far +Laurentians and the plains. + +And a sense of an inevitable fate came over me as I perceived far away +a tiny, crawling ant upon the snows--Simon Leroux's dog sleigh. + + +I went back to the little, patient figure that was waiting for me, and +I took up my pack again and told her nothing. She stepped bravely out +beside me, frozen, fatigued, but willing because I bade her. She did +not ask anything of me. + +The sun dipped lower, and far away I heard the howl of the solitary +wolf again. + +My mind had been working very fast during that journey down the hill, +and long before I reached Jacqueline I had resolved that she should +know nothing of the pursuit until the moment came when she must be told. + +That the pursuer was Leroux there could be no possible doubt. He had +evidently passed the sleigh, and was undoubtedly pressing forward, +elated and confident of our capture. But he must still be at least a +dozen miles away. + +He could not reach us that night and he could hardly travel by night. +We should have a half day's start of him in the morning. + +I gripped my pistols as we strode along. + +We went on and on. The afternoon was wearing away; the sun was very +low now and all its strength had gone. The wolf followed us, howling +from afar. Once I saw it across the treeless wastes--a gaunt, white, +dog-like figure, trotting against the steely grey of the sky. + +We ascended the last of the foot-hills before the trail dipped toward +the valley, which was guarded by two sentinel mountains of that jagged +ridge before us. From the top I looked back. Simon was nowhere to be +seen. + +"Courage, Jacqueline," I said, patting her arm, "The huts ought to be +here." + +Her courage was greater than my own. She looked up and smiled at me. +And so we descended and went on and on, and the sun dipped below the +edge of the world. + +The wolf crept nearer, and its howls rang out with piercing strokes +across the silence. My eyes ached so that I could hardly discern the +darkening land, and the snow came down, not steadily, but in swirling +eddies blown on fierce gusts of wind. + +And suddenly raising my eyes despairingly, I saw the huts. They stood +about four hundred yards away from where the trail ran through the +mountains. + +There were five of them, and they had not been occupied for at least +two seasons, for the blackened timbers were falling apart, and the +roofs had been torn off all but one of them, no doubt for fuel. The +wind was whirling the snow wildly around them, and it whistled through +the broken, rotting walls. + +I flung my pack inside the roofed one, and began tearing apart the +timbers of another to make a fire. + +Jacqueline stood looking at me in docile faith. + +"I can go on," she said quietly. "I can go on, Paul." + +I caught her hands in mine. "We shall stay here, Jacqueline," I said. + +She did not answer me, but, opening the pack, began the preparation of +our meal, which consisted of some biscuits left from the night before, +when we had made a quantity on the wood ashes. We made tea over the +roaring flames, and sat listening to the wolf's call and the wind that +drove our fire in gusts of smoke and flame. + +The wind grew fiercer. It was a hurricane. It drowned the wolf's +call; it almost silenced the sound of our own voices. Thank God that +we had at least our shelter in that storm. + +I scooped out a bed for Jacqueline inside the snow-filled hut and +spread it with the big sleigh robe. She lay down in her fur coat, and +I wrapped the ends around her. I looked into her sweet face and +marvelled at its serenity. Her eyes closed wearily. + +But, though I was as tired as she, I could not sleep. I crouched over +the fire, pondering over the morrow's acts. + +Should I wait for Leroux and shoot him down like a dog if he molested +us? Or should we hide among the hills and watch him pass by? But that +would avail us nothing. If we went on we must encounter him, and the +sooner the better. + +This problem and a fiercer one filled my mind, for my soul was as +storm-beset as the hut, whose planking shook under the gale's force. I +realized how incongruous my position was. + +I had no status at all. I was accompanying a run-away wife back to her +father's home, perhaps to meet her husband there. And whether Leroux +held me in his present power or not, inexorably I was heading for his +own objective. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SNOW BLINDNESS + +More madly now than ever I felt that fierce temptation. There she lay, +the one woman who had ever seriously come into my life, sleeping so +near to me that I could bend down and rest my hand on the inert form +over which the snow drifted so steadily. + +I brushed it away. I brooded over her. Why had I ever brought her on +that journey? Would that I had kept her, with all her love and +gentleness, for my delight. + +If I had taken her to Jamaica, where I had planned to go, instead of +engaging that mock-heroic odyssey--there, among palm trees, in an +eternal spring, there would have been no need that she should remember. + +I looked down on her. Again the snow covered her. + +It fell so inexorably. It was like Leroux. It was as tireless as he, +and as implacable as he. I brushed it away with frantic haste, and +still it drifted into the doorless hut. + +A dreadful fear held me in its grip: what if she never awoke? Some +people died thus in the snow. I raised the sleigh robe, and saw that +the fur coat stirred softly as she breathed. + +How gently she slept--as gently as she lived. How could her own have +abandoned her in her need? + +At last, out of the wild passions that fought within me, decision was +born. I would go on, because she had bidden me. And I would be ready +for Leroux, and let him act as he saw fit. I loaded my pistols. I +could do no more than fight for Jacqueline, and with God be the issue. + +And with that determination I grew calm. And I sat over the fire and +let my imagination stray toward some future when our troubles would be +in the past and we should be together. + +"Paul!" + +I must have been half asleep, for I came back to myself with a start +and sprang to my feet. Jacqueline had risen upon her knees; she flung +her arms out wildly, and suddenly she caught her breath and screamed, +and stood up, and ran uncertainly toward me, with hands that groped for +me. + +She found me; I caught her, and she pushed me from her and shuddered +and stared at me in that uncertain doubt that follows dreams. + +"I am here, Jacqueline," I said. "With you--always, till you send me +away. Remember that even in dreams, Jacqueline." + +She knew me now, and she was recoiling from me, out through the hut +door, into the blinding snow. I sprang after her. + +"Jacqueline! It is I--Paul! It is Paul! Jacqueline!" + +She was running from me and screaming in the snow. I heard her +moccasins breaking through the thin ice crust. And, mad with terror, I +rushed after her. + +"Jacqueline! It is Paul!" I cried. + +And as I emerged from the hut's shelter a red-hot glare from the east +seemed to sear and kill my vision. It was the rising sun. I had +thought it night, and it was already day. And I could see nothing +through my swollen eyelids except the white light of the shining snow. +The wind howled round me, and though the sun shone, the snowflakes +stung my face like hail. + +I did not know under the influence of what dread dream she was. But I +ran wildly to and fro, calling her, and now and again I heard the sound +of her little moccasins as she plunged through the knee-high snow. + +Sometimes I seemed to be so near that I could almost touch her hand, +and once I heard her panting breath behind me; but I never caught her. +And never once did she answer me. + +"What is it? What is it?" I pleaded madly. "Jacqueline, don't you +know me? Don't you remember me?" + +The sound of the moccasins far away, and then the whine of the wind +again. I did not know where the huts were now. I could see nothing +but a yellow glare. And fear of Leroux came on me and turned my heart +to water. I stood still, listening, like a hunted stag. There came no +sound. + +It was horrible, in that wild waste, alone. I tried to gather my +scattered senses together. + +Eastward, I know, the river lay, and that blinding brightness came from +the east. Southward a little distance, was the hill that we had last +ascended on the evening before. I could discern the merest outlines of +the land, but I fancied that I could see that it sloped upward toward +the south. + +I set off in the direction of the hill, and soon I found myself +climbing. The elevation hid the sun, and this enabled me to glimpse my +surroundings dimly, as through a heavy veil. + +I called once more, and then I was scrambling up the hill, stumbling +and falling on the ice-coated boulders. My coat was open, and the wind +cut like a knife-edge, but I did not notice it. Perhaps from the +hill-top I should see her. + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" I screamed frantically. + +No answer came. I had gained the summit now, and round me I saw the +shadowy outlines of the snow-covered rocks, but five or six feet from +me a deep, impenetrable grey wall obscured everything. I tried to peer +down into the valley, and saw nothing but the same fog there. Once +more I called. + +A dog barked suddenly, not far away, and through the mist I heard the +slide of sleigh-runners on snow; and then I knew. + +I scrambled down, slipping, and gashing my hands upon the rocks and +ice. At the foot of the hill I saw two straight and narrow lines on +the soft snow. They were the tracks of sleigh-runners. + +I followed them, sobbing, and catching my breath, and screaming: + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" + +Then I heard Simon's voice, and with the sound of it my dream came back +with prophetic clearness. + +"_Bonjour,_ M. Hewlett!" he called mockingly. "This way! This way!" + +I turned and rushed blindly in the direction of the cry. I had left my +snow-shoes behind me in the hut, and at each step my feet broke through +the crusted snow, so that I floundered and fell like a drunken man to +choruses of taunts and laughter. + +It was a horrible blindman's bluff, for they had surrounded me, yelling +from every quarter. + +"This way, _monsieur_! This way!" piped a thin, voice which I knew to +be Philippe Lacroix. + +A snowball struck me on the chin, and they began pelting me and +laughing. I was like a baited bear. I was beside myself with rage and +helpless fury. The icy balls hit my face a dozen times; one struck me +behind the ear and hurled me down half stunned. + +I was up again and rushing at my unseen tormentors. I heard the +barking of the dogs far away, and I ran in the direction of the sound, +sobbing with rage. I pulled my pistols from my pockets and spun round, +firing in every direction through that wall of grey, yielding mist that +gave me place but never gave me vision. + +The clouds had obscured the sky and the snow was falling again. My +hands were bare and numb, except where the cold steel of the pistol +triggers seared my fingers like molten metal. + +They had formed a wider circle round me, and pistol range is longer +than snowball range, so that they struck me no more. I heard the +shouts and mockery still, but never Jacqueline's voice. + +"Here, M. Hewlett, here!" piped Philippe Lacroix once more. + +Again I turned and rushed at him, firing shot after shot. I heard his +snow-shoes plodding across the crust, and yells from the others +indicated that Philippe's adventure had been a risky one. + +Then Simon called again and I turned, like a foolish, baited beast, and +fired at him. + +A dog barked once more, very far away, and at last I understood their +scheme. + +Doubtless Simon had reached the huts at dawn and had discovered us +there. He must have been in waiting, but when he saw Jacqueline run +from me he changed his plans and sent the sleigh after her. Then, +realizing from my actions that I was snow-blind, he had remained behind +with some of his followers to enjoy the sport of baiting me, and +incidentally to drive me out of the way while the sleigh went on. + +And now there was complete silence. He had accomplished his purpose. +He had gained all that he had to gain. Fortune had fought upon his +side, as always. + +But Jacqueline---- + +She had tried to escape me. She could not have been playing a +part--she was too transcendentally sincere. Something must have +occurred--some dream which had momentarily crazed her; and she had +confounded me with her persecutors. + +I could not think evil of her. I flung myself down in the snow and +gave way to abject misery. + +But hope is not readily overthrown. For her sake I resolved to pull +myself together. I did not now know whether Leroux was in front or +behind me, or upon either hand. + +I stood deep in the snow, a pistol in each hand, waiting. When he +called again I should make my last effort. + +But he called me no more. Once I heard the dog yelp, far up the +valley, and then there was only the soughing of the wind and the sting +of the driving sleet flakes. And the grey mist had closed in all about +me. I was alone in that storm-swept wilderness and there was no sun to +guide me. + +I saw a shadow at my feet, and stooping down, perceived that accident +had brought me back to the sleigh tracks. From the direction in which +the dog had howled, I judged that my course lay straight ahead as I was +standing. I started off wearily. At least it was better to walk than +to perish in the snow. + +But before many minutes had passed the realization of my loss stung me +into madness again, and I began to run. And, as I ran, I shouted, and, +shouting, I fired. + +I plunged along--half delirious, I believe, for I began to hear voices +on every side of me and to imagine I saw Simon standing, just out of +reach, a shadow upon the mist, taunting me. I followed him at an +undeviating distance, firing, reloading, and firing again. I was no +longer conscious of my progress. The fingers that pressed the triggers +of my pistols had no sensation in them, and in my imagination were +parts of a monstrous mechanism which I directed. My legs, too, felt +like stilts that somebody had strapped to my body, and, instead of +cold, a warm glow seemed to suffuse me. + +And while my helpless body stumbled along its route my mind was back in +New York. This was my apartment on Tenth Street, and Jacqueline sat +behind the curtains. I had dreamed of a long journey through a +snow-bound wilderness, but I had awakened and we were to start for +Jamaica by that day's boat. How dear she was! She raised her eyes, +full of trusting love, to mine, and I knew that there would never be +any parting until death. + +We sat beneath the palms, beside a sea that plunged against our little +island, and the air was fragrant with the scent of orange-blossoms, +carried upon the wind from the distant mainland. We were so happy +there--there was no need to think or to remember. I slept against her +shoulder. + + +Somebody was shaking me. + +"Get up!" he bellowed in my ear. "Get up! Do you want to die in the +snow?" + +I closed my eyes and sank back into a lethargy of sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE CHÂTEAU + +I had an indistinct impression of being carried for what seemed an +eternity upon the shoulders of my rescuer, and of clinging there +through the delirium that supervened. + +Sometimes I thought I was on a camel's back, pursuing Jacqueline's +abductors through the hot sands of an Egyptian desert; sometimes I was +on shipboard, sinking in a tropical sea, beneath which amid the marl +and ooze of delta depositions, hideous, antediluvian creatures, with +faces like that of Leroux, writhed and stretched up their tentacles to +drag me down. + +Then I would be conscious of the cold and bitter wind again. But at +last there came a grateful sense of warmth and ease, followed by a +period of blank unconsciousness. + +When at last I opened my eyes it was late afternoon. Though they +pained me, I could now see with tolerable distinctness. + +I was lying upon a bed of dried balsam-leaves inside a little hut, and +through the half-open door I could see the sun just dipping behind the +mountains. Besides the bed the hut contained a roughly hewn table and +chair and a bookcase with a few books in it. Upon a wall hung a big +crucifix of wood, and under it an old man was standing. + +He heard me stir and came toward me. I recognized the massive +shoulders and commanding countenance of Père Antoine, and remembrance +came back to me. + +"Where am I?" I asked. + +"In my cabin, _monsieur_," answered the priest, standing at my side, an +inscrutable calm upon his face. + +"You saved me?" + +"Three days ago. You were dying in the snow. You had fired off your +pistols and had thrown your coat away. I had to carry you back and +find it. It is lucky that I found you, _monsieur_, or assuredly you +would soon have been dead. But for your dog----" + +"_My_ dog!" I exclaimed. + +"Certainly, a dog came to me and brought me a mile out of my route to +where you were lying. But, now, come to think of it, it disappeared +and has not returned. Perhaps it was sent to me by _le bon Dieu_." + +"Where is Mlle. Duchaine?" I burst out. + +"Ah, M. Hewlett," said the priest, looking at me severely, "that was a +wild undertaking of yours, and God does not prosper such schemes, +though I confess I do not understand why you were taking her to her +home. Rest assured she is in good hands. I met the sleigh containing +her, and M. Leroux informed me that all would be well. It is strange +that he did not speak of you, though, and I do not understand how----" + +"He stole her from me when I was snow-blind, and left me to die!" I +exclaimed. "I must rescue her----" + +Father Antoine laid a heavy hand upon my shoulder. + +"Be assured, _monsieur_, that _madame_ is perfectly happy and contented +with her friends," he said. "And no doubt she has already regretted +her escapade. Did I not warn you in Quebec, _monsieur_, that your +enterprise would be brought to naught? And now you will doubtless be +glad of your lesson, and will abandon it willingly and return homeward. +I have to depart at daybreak upon an urgent mission a hundred miles +away, which was interrupted by your rescue; but I shall be back within +a week, by which time you will doubtless be able to accompany me to the +coast. Meanwhile, you will rest here, and my provisions and a few +books are at your disposal." + +"I shall not!" I cried weakly. "I am going on to the _château_!" + +He looked at me steadily. + +"You cannot," he said. "If you attempt it you will perish by the way." + +"You cannot stop me!" I cried desperately. + +"Perhaps not, _monsieur_; nevertheless, you will not be able to reach +the _château_." + +"Who are you that you should stop me?" I exclaimed angrily. "You are a +priest, and your duty is with souls." + +"That is why," answered Père Antoine. "You are in pursuit of a married +woman." + +"I do not know anything about that, but I am the protector of a +defenceless one," I answered, "and I shall seek her until she sends me +away. Do you know where her husband is?" + +"No, _monsieur_," answered the old man. "And you?" + +I burst into an impassioned appeal to him. I told him of Leroux and +his conspiracy to obtain possession of the property, of my encounter +with Jacqueline, and how I had rescued her, omitting mention of course +of the murder. + +As I went on I could see the look of surprise upon his face gradually +change into belief. + +I told him of our journey across the snow and begged him to help me to +rescue Jacqueline, or at least to find her. I added that the trouble +had partially destroyed her memory, so that she was not competent to +decide who her protectors were. + +When I had ended he was looking at me with a benignancy that I had +never seen before upon his face. + +"M. Hewlett," he answered, "I have long suspected a part of what you +have told me, and therefore I readily accept your statements. I +believe now that _madame_ has suffered no wrong from you. But I am a +priest, and, as you say, my care is only that of souls. _Madame_ is +married. I married her----" + +"To whom?" I cried. + +"To M. Louis d'Epernay, nephew of M. Charles Duchaine by marriage, less +than two weeks ago in the _château_ here." + +The addition of the last word singularly revived my hopes. It had +slipped from his lips unconsciously, but it gave me reason to believe +that the château was near by. + +Father Antoine sat down upon the chair beside me. + +"M. Duchaine has been a recluse for many years," he said, "and of late +his mind has become affected. It is said that he was implicated in the +troubles of 1867, and that, fearing arrest, he fled here and built this +château, in this desolate region, where he would be safe from pursuit. +If anyone ever contemplated denouncing him, at any rate those events +have long ago been forgotten. But solitude has made a hermit of him +and taken him out of touch with the world of to-day. + +"I believe that Leroux has discovered coal on his property, and by +threatening him with arrest has gained a complete ascendency over the +weak-minded old man. However, the fact remains that his daughter was +married by me to M. d'Epernay some ten or twelve days ago at the +_château_. + +"I was uneasy, for it did not look to be like a love-match, and I knew +that M. d'Epernay had the reputation of a profligate in Quebec, where +he was hand in glove with Philippe Lacroix, one of M. Leroux's aids. +But a priest has no option when an expression of matrimonial consent is +made to him in the presence of two witnesses. So I married them. + +"My duties took me to Quebec. There I learned that Mme. d'Epernay had +fled on the night of her marriage, and that her husband was in pursuit +of her. Again it was told me that she was living at the Château +Frontenac with another man. It was not for me to question whether she +loved her husband, but to do my duty. + +"I appealed to you. You refused to listen to my appeal. You +threatened me, _monsieur_. And you denied my priesthood. However, I +do not speak of that, for she is undoubtedly safe with her father now, +awaiting her husband's return. And I shall not help you in your +pursuit of her, M. Hewlett, for you are actuated solely by love for the +wife of another man. Is that not so?" he ended, bending over me with a +penetrating look in his blue eyes. + +"Yes, it is so. But I shall go to the château," I answered. + +Père Antoine rose up. + +"You will find food here," he said, "and if you wish to take exercise +there are snow-shoes. Try to find the _château_--do what you please; +but remember that if you lose your way I shall not be here to save you. +I shall return from my mission in a week and be ready to conduct you to +St. Boniface. And now, _monsieur_, since we understand each other, I +shall prepare the supper." + +I swallowed a few mouthfuls of food and fell asleep soon afterward. In +the morning when I awoke the cabin was empty. + +My eyes were almost well, but my hands had been badly frozen and were +extremely painful, while I was so weak that I could hardly walk. I +spent the next two days recovering my strength, and on the third I +found myself able to leave the hut for a short tramp. + +I found snow-shoes and coloured glasses in the cabin; my overcoat was +there, and I did not feel troubled in conscience when I appropriated a +pair of warm fur mittens which the good priest had made from mink +skins. They had no fingers, and were admirably adapted to the weather. + +I found one of the pistols in the hut, and in the pocket of my fur coat +were a couple of cartridges which I had overlooked. The rest I had +fired away in my delirium. + +The cabin, was situated in a valley, around which high hills clustered. +Strapping on the snow-shoes, I set to work to climb a lofty peak which +stood at no great distance. + +It took me a couple of hours to make the ascent, and when at last I +sank down exhausted on the summit there was nothing in sight but a +succession of new hills in every direction. I seemed to be on the +summit of the ridge which sloped away to east and west of me. Hidden +among the hills were little lakes. + +There was no sign of life in all that desolate country. + +My disappointment was overwhelming. Surely the _château_ was near. I +strode up and down upon the mountain-top, clenching my hands with rage. +It was four days since I had lost Jacqueline, and Leroux had +contemptously left me to die in the snow. He was so sure I could not +follow and find him. + +I began the descent again. But it is easy to lose one's way upon a +mountain-peak, and the hills presented no clear definition to me. Once +in the valley I could locate the cabin again, but the sun had travelled +far toward the west and no longer guided me accurately. + +I must have turned off at a slight angle which took me some distance +out of my course, for my progress was suddenly arrested by a mighty +wall of rock, a sheer precipice that seemed to descend perpendicularly +into the valley underneath. Somewhere a torrent was roaring like a +miniature Niagara. + +I discovered my error and bent my footsteps along the summit of the +precipice, and as I proceeded the noise of the torrent grew louder +until the din was deafening. I was treading now upon a smooth slope, +like the glacis of a fortress. I continued the descent, and all at +once, at no great distance from me, I saw a tremendous waterfall, +ice-sheeted, that tumbled down the face of the declivity and sent up a +cloud of misty spray. + +I stopped to stare in admiration. Far below me the narrow valley had +widened into the smooth, snow-coated surface of a lake. + +And on a point of land projecting from the bottom of that mighty wall I +saw the _château_! + +It could have been nothing else. It was a splendid building--not +larger than the house of a country gentleman, perhaps, and made of hewn +logs; but the rude splendour of it against that icy, rocky background +transfixed me with wonder. + +It was a rambling, straggling building, apparently constructed at +different times; having two wings and a wide central hall, with odd +projecting chambers, and it was hidden so cunningly away that it was +visible from this side of the lake only from the point of the rocky +precipice above on which I stood. + +The _château_ stood under the overhanging precipice in such a way that +half the building was invisible even from here. It seemed to be set +back into a hollow of the mountainside, which appeared every moment +about to overwhelm it. + +And now I perceived that the smooth slope on which I stood was a +snow-covered glacier, a million tons of ice, pressing ever by its own +weight toward the precipice, and carrying its débris of rocks and +stones toward the waterfall that issued from it and poured in deafening +clamour into the lake below. + +Where the precipice projected the waterfall was split in two, and +rushed down in twin streams, bubbling, tumbling, hissing, plunging into +the lake, which whirled furiously around the spit of land on which the +castle stood, clear of ice for a distance of a hundred feet from the +shore, a foaming maelstrom in which no boat that was ever built could +have endured an instant, but must have been twisted and flung back like +the fantastically shaped ice pinnacles along the marge. + +On each side of the _château_ a cataract plunged, veiling itself in an +opacity of mist, tinted with all the spectral hues by the rays of the +westering sun. I could have flung a stone down, not on the _château_, +but over it, into the boiling lake. + +Why, that position was impregnable! Behind it the sheer precipice, up +which not even a bird could walk; the impassable lake before it, and +the torrent on either side! + +But--how had M. Charles Duchaine gained entrance there? + +There seemed to be no entrance. And yet the _château_ stood before my +eyes, no dream, but very real indeed. There was a small piece of +enclosed land between its front and the lake, and within this I thought +I could see dogs lying. + +That might have been my fancy, for the mountain was too high for me to +be able to distinguish anything readily, and the sublime grandeur of +the scene and the roar of the water made me incapable of clear +discernment. + +Before I reached the hut again I had formulated my plan. I would start +at dawn, or earlier, and work around these mountains, a circuit of +perhaps twenty miles, approaching the _château_ by the edge of the +lake. I concluded that there must exist a ridge of narrow beach +between the whirlpool and the castle, though it was invisible from +above, and that the entrance would disclose itself to me in the course +of my journey. + +The hope of finding Jacqueline again banished the last vestiges of my +weakness. I felt like one inspired. And my spirit was exalted, too. +For she so completely filled my heart that she left no place for doubts +and fears. + +That night I paced the little cabin in an ecstasy of joy. And, as I +paced it, suddenly I perceived a strange flicker of light in the north +sky, and went to the door to see the most beautiful phenomenon that I +had ever witnessed. + +There came first a flash, and swiftly long streamers of flame shot up +and spread fanwise over the heavens. They quivered and sank, and +flared again, and broke into innumerable rippling waves; they hung, +broad banners of light, athwart the skies, then slowly faded, to give +place to a wavering interplay of ghostly beams that sought the darkest +places beyond the moon: celestial fingers whiter than the white glow of +a myriad of arc-lamps. + +And somehow the wonder of it filled me with the conviction that all +would be well for those heavenly lights bridged the loneliness of my +soul even as they bridged the sky, from Jupiter, who blazed brilliant +in the east to great Arcturus. + +And, so I felt that, though I crossed a void as wide and fathomless in +search of her, some time she should be mine and that our hearts would +beat together so long as our lives should endure. + + +Although the sun was well above the horizon when I awoke, I started out +on the fourth morning eager to achieve the entrance to the _château_. + +First I plodded back to the two mountains which guarded the approach to +the valley, then worked round along the flank of the ridge of peaks, +searching for an entrance. The further I went, however, the higher and +more precipitous became the mountains. + +I realized that there was little chance of finding any access along +this side, so after my noon meal I ascended one of the lower elevations +in order to obtain my bearings. But I could discern neither _château_ +nor lake nor waterfall, and the sound of the torrent, far away to the +left, came to my ears only as a faint distant murmur. + +I was far out of the way. + +The snow, which had been falling at intervals during each day since +Jacqueline's abduction, had long ago covered up the tracks of the +sleigh. I had to trust to my own wit to solve my problem, and there +did not seem to be any solution. + +There was no visible entrance to that mountain lake on any side, and to +descend that sheer, ice-coated precipice was an impossibility. + +It was long after nightfall when I reached the cabin again, exhausted +and dispirited. + +I awoke too late on the fifth morning, and I was too stiff to make much +of a journey. I climbed to the edge of the glacier once again in the +hope of discovering an approach. I examined every foot of the ground +with meticulous care. + +But whenever I approached the edge the same wall of rock ran down +vertically for some three hundred feet, veneered with ice and wrapped +in a perpetual blinding spray. + +And yet sleighs could enter that valley below. For at the extreme edge +of the lake, outside the enclosed piece of land, I perceived one, a +tiny thing, far under me, and yet unmistakably a sleigh. + +I was within three hundred feet of Jacqueline's home and yet as far +away as though leagues divided us. I looked down at the _château_ and +ground my teeth and swore that I would win her. But all the rest of +that day went in fruitless searching. + +I must succeed in finding the entrance on the following day, for now +Père Antoine might return at any time, and I knew that he would prove +far less tractable here in his own bailiwick than he had been when I +defied him at the Frontenac. By hook or by crook I must gain entrance +to the valley. + +This was to be my last night in the cabin. I could not return, not +though I were perishing in the snows. + +Happily my eyes were now entirely well, and my hands, though chapped +and roughened from the frost-bites, had suffered no permanent injury. +So I started out with grim resolution on the sixth morning, when the +dawn was only a red streak on the horizon and the stars still lit my +way. Before the sun rose I was standing once more outside those two +sentinel peaks. + +To this point I knew the sleigh had come. But whether it had continued +straight down the valley or turned to the right along that same ridge +which I had fruitlessly explored before, it was impossible to determine. + +I tried to put myself in the position of a man travelling toward the +_château_. Which road would I take? How and where would it occur to +me to seek an entrance into the heart of those formidable hills? + +The more I puzzled and pondered over the difficulty the harder it was +to solve. + +As I stood, rather weary, balancing myself upon my snow-shoes, I heard +a wolf's howl quite near to me. Raising my head, I saw no wolf, but an +Eskimo dog--the very dog I had encountered in New York, Jacqueline's +dog! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +UNDER THE MOUNTAINS + +The dog was standing on a rock at the base of the hill immediately +before me--and calling. + +I almost thought that it was calling me. + +I took a few steps toward it, and it disappeared immediately, as though +alarmed--apparently into the heart of the mountain. + +I thought, of course, that it was crouching in a hollow place, or +behind a boulder, and would reappear on my approach, but when I reached +the spot where it had been it was nowhere to be seen. And the +pad-prints ran toward a tiny hole no bigger than the entrance to a +fox's lair--and ended there. + +At this spot an enormous boulder lay, almost concealing the burrow. I +put my shoulder against it--in the hope of dislodging it sufficiently +to enable me to see into the cavity. To my astonishment, at the first +touch it rolled into a new position, disclosing a wide natural tunnel +in the mountainside, through which a sleigh might have passed easily! + +I saw at once the explanation. The boulder was a rocking stone. It +must have fallen at some time from the top of the arch, and happened to +be so poised that at a touch it could be swung into one of two +positions, alternately disclosing and concealing the tunnel in the +cliff wall. + +I stepped within and, striking a match perceived that I was standing +inside a vast cave--a vaulted chamber that ran apparently straight into +the heart of the mountains. + +Great stalactites hung from the roof and dripped water upon the floor, +on which numerous small stalagmites were forming, where they had not +been crumbled away by the passage and repassage of sleighs. These had +left two well-defined tracks in the soft stone under my feet. + +The cave was one of those common formations in limestone hills. How +far it ran I could not know, but I had little doubt that at last I was +well upon my approach to the _château_. + +The interior was completely dark. At intervals I struck matches from +the box which I had brought with me, but the road always ran clear and +straight ahead, and I could even guide myself by the ruts in the ground. + +And every time I struck a match I could see the vaulted cavern, wide as +a great cathedral, extending right and left and in front of me. + +I must have been journeying for half an hour when I perceived a faint +light ahead of me, and at the same time I heard the gurgling of a +torrent somewhere near at hand. + +The light grew stronger. I could see now that the cavern had narrowed +considerably: there were no longer any ruts in the ground, and by +stretching out my arms I could touch the wall on either side of me. I +advanced cautiously until the light grew quite bright; I saw the tunnel +end in front of me, and emerged into an open space in the heart of the +hills. + +I say an open space, for it was as large as two city blocks; but it was +as though it had been dug out of the mountains by an enormous cheese +scoop, for on all sides sheer, vertical walls of rock ascended, so high +that the light of day filtered down only dimly. A swift river, issuing +from the base of one of these stupendous cliffs, ran across the opening +and disappeared into a cave upon the other side. + +I glanced at my watch. It seemed that I had been travelling for an +interminable time, but it was barely eleven o'clock. I sat down to +eat, and the thought occurred to me that this would make a good camping +place, if necessary, for it was quite warm at such a depth below the +surface of the hills, and my fur coat had begun to feel oppressive. I +felt drowsy, too, and somehow, before I was aware of any fatigue, I was +asleep. + +That was a lucky thing, for I was not destined to sleep much the +following night. It was three o'clock when I awoke, and at first, as +always since my journey began, I could not remember where I was. And, +as always, it was the thought of Jacqueline that recalled to me my +surroundings. + +I sprang to my feet and made hasty preparations to resume my journey. + +A short investigation showed me that I had come into a _cul-de-sac_, +for there was no path through the opposite hills. There were, however, +a number of extensive caves in the porous limestone cliffs, any of +which might prove to be the sequence of the road. + +The first thing that I perceived on beginning my search was that men +had been here before me. + +What was the place? A robbers' den? A camp of outlaws? + +In the first cave that I explored I found a stock of provisions--flour +and canned meats and matches--snugly stored away safe from the damp and +snow. Near by were picks and shovels and three very reputable +blankets, with a miscellany of materials suggestive of the camping +party's outfit. + +I might have been more surprised than I was, but my thoughts were +centred on Jacqueline, and the waning of the light showed me that the +sun must be well down in the sky. I must get on at once if I were to +reach the _château_ that night. + +But how? + +I might have wandered for an indefinite time among those caves before +striking the road. That I was off the track now seemed certain, for it +was obvious that no sleigh could pass through those walls. The thin +drift of snow that had covered the ground was almost melted, but enough +remained to have showed the pad-prints of the dog, if it had passed +that way. + +There was none; nor were there tracks of sleigh runners, which would, +at least, have scored them in the sandy ooze along the bed of the +rivulet. + +I had evidently then strayed from the right course while wandering +through the tunnel, and thus come by mischance into this blind alley. + +I had noticed, as I have said, that the path narrowed considerably +during the last few hundred feet that I had traversed before I reached +this open place. In the darkness I might easily have debouched along +one of the numerous paths which, no doubt, existed all through the +interior of this limestone formation. + +I started back in haste and reentered the tunnel again, striking a +match every few seconds, lighting each by its predecessor. + +I had been travelling back for about ten minutes when I noticed at my +feet the charred stump of a match that I had thrown away some time +before. I looked around me and saw that I was again in the main road. +There were the faint depressions caused by the sleigh runners in the +soft stone, and the roof and side walls of the tunnel again stretched +away into the obscurity around me. + +Satisfied that I had retraced my steps sufficiently far, I turned about +and began to proceed cautiously in the opposite direction, keeping this +time as far as possible to the right of the road instead of to the +left, as before. The box of matches which I had brought with me was +nearly exhausted, but, by shielding each one carefully, I was able to +examine my ground with fair assurance of my being in the right course. + +A draft was now beginning to blow quite strongly inward, and this +convinced me that I was approaching the tunnel's end. + +As I proceeded I kept looking to the left to endeavor to locate the +narrow passage into which I had strayed, but it must have been the +merest opening in the wall, so small that only a miracle of chance had +led me into it, for I saw nothing but the straight passage before me. + +Presently I began to hear a murmur of water in the distance, and then a +faint flicker of light. The ground began to grow softer, and now I was +treading upon ooze and mud instead of rock. + +The murmur increased in a sonorous crescendo until the full cadence of +the mighty waterfall burst on my ears. + +A fiery ball seemed to fill the exit. The red sun, barred with bands +of coal-black cloud, was dipping into the farther verge of the lake. + +The thunder of the cataracts filled my ears. A fine spray, like a +garment of filmy silk, obscured my clearer vision; but through and +beyond it, between two torrents that sailed above like crystal bows, I +saw the _château_ before me. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE ROULETTE-WHEEL + +I stared at the scene in amazement, for the transition from the dark +tunnel through which I had come was an astounding one, and I could +hardly believe the evidence of my eyes. + +I had passed right through the hollow heart of those mighty hills and +now stood underneath the huge glacier, with its million tons of ice +above me, from which the cataracts tumbled, drenching me with spray, +though I was fully a hundred yards away from the log _château_. + +The building was located, as I had surmised, upon a narrow strip of +land, invisible from above except where its tongue, containing the +enclosed yard, ran out into the lake. It stood far back beneath the +over-hanging ledge and seemed to be secured against the living rock. +It was evident that there was no other approach except the tunnel +through which I had come, for all around the land that turbulent +whirlpool raved, where the two cataracts contended for the mastery of +the waters. + +And for countless ages they must have fought together thus, and neither +gained, not since the day when those mountains rose out of the primeval +ooze. + +Within the enclosed space, which was larger than I had thought on +viewing it from above, were two or three small cabins--inhabited, +probably, by habitant or half-breed dependents of the seigneur. + +I must have crouched for nearly an hour at the tunnel entrance, staring +in stupefied wonder--for it grew dark, and one by one lights began to +flare at the windows until the whole north wing and central portion of +the building were illuminated. But the south wing, nearest me, was +dark, and I surmised that this portion was not occupied. + +Fortune still seemed to favour me, and with this conclusion and the +thought of Jacqueline, I gained courage to advance again. + +It was almost dark now and growing bitterly cold. I felt in my pocket +for my pistol and loaded it with the two cartridges that alone remained +of the lot I had brought with me. Then I advanced stealthily until I +stood beneath the cataract; and here I found the spray no longer +drenched me. The splendid torrent shot out like a crystal-arch above +me--so strong and compact that only those at some distance could feel +the mist that veiled it like a luminous garment. + +I came upon a door in the dark wing and, turning the handle +noiselessly, found myself inside the _château_. And at once my ears +were filled with yells and coarse laughter in men's and women's voices. + +There was no storm-door, and the interior of the _château_--at least, +the wing in which I found myself--was almost as cold as the outside. I +stood still, hesitating which way to take. A fiddle was being played +somewhere, and the bursts of noisy laughter sounded at intervals. + +As my eyes became accustomed to my surroundings I perceived that I was +standing near the foot of an uncarpeted wooden stairway. There was a +dark room with an open door immediately in front of me, and another at +the farther end of the passage, from beneath which a glimmer of light +issued, and it was from this room that the sounds of laughter and music +came. + +While I was pondering upon my next movement, heavy footsteps fell on +the story above me, and a man began coming down the stairs. I stole +into the dark room in front of me, and had hardly ensconced myself +there than he brushed past and went into the room at the end of the +hallway. + +And I was certain that he was Leroux. + +It was evident that he had not closed the door behind him, for the +sounds of the fiddle and of the revellers became much more distinct, I +had left my snowshoes near the entrance to the tunnel, and my moccasins +made no sound upon the floor. + +I crept out of my hiding place and went toward the open door. As I had +surmised, this was the place of the assemblage. I crouched there, with +my pistol in my hand. On the opposite side of the room Simon Leroux +was standing, a sneering smile upon his face. + +The scene I saw through the crack of the door quite took my breath away. + +The room was an enormous one, evidently forming the entire central +portion of the _château_. It was a ballroom, or had been a ballroom, +once, for it had a wide hardwood floor, somewhat worn and uneven. The +walls were hung with portraits, evidently of the owner's ancestors, for +I caught a glimpse of several faces in wigs and periwigs. + +The furniture was of an old type. Pushed against one wall, near where +Leroux stood, was an ancient piano, and standing upon the other side an +old man played upon a violin. + +He must have been nearly eighty years of age. His face had fallen in +over the toothless gums, leaving the prominent cheek-bones protruding +like those of a skull, and his head was a heavy mat of straight grey +hair. He looked like a full-blooded Indian. + +Two couples were dancing on the floor. Each man had an Indian woman. +One was middle-aged; the other, a comely young girl with heavy silver +earrings, was laughing noisily as her companion dragged her to a +standstill in front of the fiddler. + +"Play faster, Pierre Caribou!" he yelled, pushing the old man backward. + +It was the man with the patch! + +"Be quiet, Jean Petitjean!" exclaimed the girl, giving him a mock blow. +"Thou shall not hurt my father!" + +They laughed drunkenly and resumed the dance. The man with the older +woman was not--greatly to my surprise--Jean Petitjean's companion of +the night. The woman was addressing him as Raoul. She seemed trying +to quiet him, for he was shouting boisterously as he twirled. + +From his post across the room Leroux watched the proceedings with his +sneering smile. + +Flaring candles were set in sconces of wrought iron around the room, +casting a pallid light upon the scene, and so unreal it would have been +but for my recognition of the men that I might have expected it to +disappear before my eyes. + +I crept back from the door and, tracing my journey along the corridor, +began to ascend the stairs. + +On the first story I perceived a number of rooms, but those whose doors +were open were dark and apparently empty. I imagined that all the +magnificence of the _château_ was concentrated in that big ballroom. + +The corridor on the first story had smaller passages opening out of +it--one at each end. I turned to the left. Now the sound of the +cataracts, which had never left my ears, became a din. The passages +were full of stale tobacco smoke. And advancing I suddenly found +myself face to face with Philippe Lacroix. + +He was seated at a table in a room writing, and I came right upon the +door before I was aware of it. I saw his thin face with the little +upturned mustache and the cold sneer about the mouth; and I think I +should have shot him if he had looked up. But he neither heard nor saw +me, but wrote steadily, puffing at a vile cigar, and I crept back from +the door. + +Thank God, Jacqueline was not among those brutes below! But I +shuddered to think of her environment here. + +I turned back and followed the corridor to the right, and came to a +little hall toward the rear of the building, as I judged, where the +noise of the torrents was less loud, although I now perceived that the +_château_ was in a continual mild tremor from the force of their +discharge. + +The windows in this little hall were broken in several places, and had +evidently been in this condition for a long time, for they were covered +with strips of paper, through which the wind entered in chilling gusts. +Beyond me was an open door, and behind it I saw the dull glow of a +stove and felt its heat. + +I approached cautiously and looked in. + +I never saw a room so littered and uncared for. There were books +around the walls and books upon the floor, covered with dust; there was +dust and dirt and débris everywhere, and spider-webs along the walls +and ceiling. The impression of the whole place was that of ruin. + +Facing me, above a cracked and ancient mirror, were two rusty +broad-swords, and in the mirror I saw a large, oaken table reflected. +Seated at it, clothed in a threadbare coat of very ancient fashion, was +an old man with long, snow-white hair and a white, forked beard. He +was busily transferring a stack of gold-pieces from his right to his +left side; and then he began scribbling on a sheet of paper. He paid +me not the smallest attention as I entered. + +Not even when I stood beside him did he look up, but went on sorting +out his coins and jotting down figures upon the paper. Sheets of it, +covered with penciled figures, stood everywhere stacked upon the table, +and other sheets were strewn among the books upon the floor; and while +I watched, the old man laid aside the sheet he had been writing on and +drew another sheet from the top of a thick pile beside him. + +There was a door behind his chair leading, I imagined, into a +lumber-room. I walked around the room and looked through it, but the +place beyond was dark. + +Then I came back to the old man, who still paid me not the least +attention. + +Now I perceived that the top of the table was very curiously designed. +It was marked off with squares and columns, and in each square were +figures in black and red. Upon one end of the table at which the old +man sat was a cup-shaped, circular affair of very dark wood--teak, it +resembled--once delicately inlaid with pearl. But now most of the +inlay had disappeared, leaving unsightly holes. + +At the bottom of the cup were a number of metallic compartments, and +the whole interior portion was revolving slowly at a turn of the old +man's fingers. + +He picked a tiny ivory ball from the table and placed it in the cup. +He set the interior spinning and the ball circulating in the reverse +direction. The sphere clicked and clattered as it forced its way among +the metallic strips. + +It may seem strange that I did not at first recognize a roulette-wheel. +But the game is more a diversion of the rich than of those with whom +fortune had thrown me. Gambling had never appealed to me, and I knew +roulette only by reputation. + +The ball stopped and settled in one of the compartments, and the old +man took a gold-piece from one of the squares on the table, transferred +a little pile of gold from his right side to his left, and jotted down +some figures upon his paper. + +And suddenly I was aware of an abysmal rage that filled me. It seemed +like an abominable dream--the futile old man, the ruffians and their +wenches below. And I had endured so much for Jacqueline, to find +myself immeshed in such things in the end. I stepped forward and swept +the entire heap of gold into the centre of the table. + +"M. Duchaine!" I shouted. "Why are you playing the fool here when your +daughter is suffering persecution?" + +The old man seemed to be aware of my presence for the first time. He +looked up at me out of his mild old eyes, and shook his head in +apparent perplexity. + +"You are welcome, _monsieur_," he said, half rising with a courtly air. +"Do you wish to stake a few pieces in a game with me?" + +He gathered up a handful of the coins and pushed them toward me. + +"Of course, we shall give back our stakes at the end," he continued, +eyeing me with a cunning expression, in which I seemed to detect +avarice and madness, too. + +"This is just to see how well we play. Afterward, if we are satisfied, +we will play for real money--real gold." + +He began to divide the gold-pieces into two heaps. + +"You see, _monsieur_, I have a system--at least, I nearly have a +system," he went on eagerly. "But it may not be so good as yours. +Come. You shall be the banker, and see if you can win my money from +me. But we shall return the stakes afterward." + +"M. Duchaine!" I shouted in his ear. "Where is your daughter?" + +"My daughter," he repeated in mild surprise. "Ah, yes; she has gone to +New York to make our fortune with the system. You see," he continued +with senile cunning, "she has taken away the system, and so I am not +sure whether I can beat you. But make your play, _monsieur_." There +was at least no indecision in the manner in which he set the wheel +spinning. + +I did not know what to do. I was fascinated and bewildered by the +situation. + +In desperation I thrust a gold-piece upon one of the numbers at the +head of a column. The wheel stopped, and the ball rolled into one of +its compartments. The old man thrust several gold-pieces toward me. + +I staked again and again, and won every time. Within five minutes the +whole heap of gold-pieces lay at my side. + +The dotard looked at me with an expression of imbecile terror. + +"You will give them back to me?" he pleaded. "Remember, _monsieur_, it +was agreed that we should return the money." + +I thrust the heap of coins toward him. "Now, M. Duchaine," I said; "in +return for these you will conduct me to Mlle. Jacqueline." + +He shook his head as though he had not understood. + +"It is very strange," he said. "I do not understand it at all. The +system cannot be at fault; and yet----" + +I snatched the paper from his grasp and threw it on the floor, then +pulled him to his feet. + +"Enough of this nonsense, M. Duchaine," I said. "Will you conduct me +to Mlle. Jacqueline immediately, or shall I go and find her?" + +"I am here, _monsieur_," answered a voice at the door; and I whirled, +to see Jacqueline confronting me. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +SOME PLAIN SPEAKING + +I took three steps toward her and stood still. For this was +Jacqueline; but it was not _my_ Jacqueline. It might have been +Jacqueline's grandmother when she was a girl--this haughty belle with +her high waist and side curls, and her flounced skirt and aspect of +cold recognition. + +She did not stir as I approached her, but stood still, framed in the +door-way, looking at me as though I were an unwelcome stranger. My +outstretched arms fell to my sides. I halted three paces in front of +her. There was no answering welcome on her face, only a cold little +smile that showed she knew me. + +"Jacqueline!" I cried. "It is I, Paul! You know me, Jacqueline?" + +Jacqueline inclined her head. "Oh, yes; I know you, _monsieur_," she +answered. "Why have you come here?" + +"To see you, Jacqueline! To save you, Jacqueline!" + +She made me a mocking courtesy. "I am infinitely obliged to you, +_monsieur_, for your good will," she said; "but I do not need your aid. +I am with friends now, M.--M. Paul!" + +I withdrew a little way and leaned my hand against the table for +support, breathing heavily. Behind me I heard the click, click of the +roulette-ball as it pursued its course around the wheel. The old +dotard had already forgotten me, and was playing with his right hand +against his left again. + +"Do you not want to see me, Jacqueline?" I asked, watching her through +a whirling fog. + +"No, _monsieur_," she answered chillingly. "No, _monsieur_!" + +"Do you wish me to go?" + +She said nothing, and I walked unsteadily toward the door. She +followed me slowly. I went out of the room and pulled the door to +behind me. I knew that after it had closed I should never see +Jacqueline again. + +She opened it and stood confronting me; and then burst into a flood of +impassioned speech. + +"Why have you followed me here to persecute me?" she cried. "Are you +under the illusion that I am helpless? Do you think the friends who +rescued me from you have forgotten that you exist? You took advantage +of my helplessness. I do not want to see you. I hate you!" + +"You told me that you loved me, and I believed you, Jacqueline," I +answered miserably, watching the colour flame to her lovely face. And +I could see she remembered that. + +"When I was ill you used me for your own base schemes," she went on +with cutting emphasis. "And you--you followed me here. Do you think +that I am unprotected, and that you are dealing only with an old man +and a helpless woman? Why, I have friends who would come in and kill +you if I but raised my voice!" + +"Raise your voice, _mademoiselle_. I am ready for your friends," I +answered. + +She looked less steadily at me and seemed to waver. + +"What have you come for?" she asked. "Have you not had money enough? +Do you want more?" + +I seized her by the wrists. Thus I held her at arm's length, and my +fingers tightened until I saw the flesh grow white beneath them. The +intensity of my rage beat hers down and made it a puny thing. + +"Jacqueline! You take me for an adventurer?" I cried. "Is _that_ what +they told you? Why do you think I brought you so near your home when +you were, as you said, helpless? Only a few nights ago you said you +loved me; that you would never send me away until I wished to go. What +is it that has happened to change you so, Jacqueline?" + +I had her in my arms. She struggled fiercely, and I let her go. + +"How dare you, _monsieur_!" she panted. "Go at once, or I shall call +for aid!" + +So I went into the passage; and as I left the room I could still hear +the hellish click of the ivory ball in the roulette-wheel. I was +utterly confounded. + +But before I reached the end of the little hall Jacqueline came running +back to me. + +"Monsieur!" she gasped. "M. Paul! For the sake of--of what I once +thought you, I do not want you to be seen. You are in dreadful danger. +Come back!" + +"Never mind the danger, _madame_," I answered, and I saw her flinch at +the word and look at me in dazed bewilderment. "Never mind my danger." + +"It is for your own sake, _monsieur_," she said more gently. + +"No, Mme. d'Epernay," I answered; and she winced again, as though I had +struck her across the face. + +"For my sake," she pleaded, catching at my arm, and at that moment I +heard a door slam underneath and heavy footsteps begin slowly to ascend +the stairs. + +"No, _madame_," I answered, trying to release my arm from her clasp. +Her face was full of fear, and I knew it was fear of the man below, not +me. + +"Then for the sake of--our love, Paul!" she gasped. + +I suffered her to lead me back into the room. In truth, I was in no +hurry to go. As she drew me back and closed the door behind us I heard +the footsteps pause and turn along the corridor. + +I knew that heavy gait as well as though I already saw Leroux's hard +face before my eyes. + +Jacqueline pushed me inside the room behind her father's chair and +closed, but did not hasp, the door. The room was completely dark, and +I did not know whether it connected with other rooms or was a mere +closet, but the freshness of the air in it inclined me to the former +view. + +Over my head the torrent roared, and I had to stand very close to the +door to hear what passed. + +I heard Leroux tramp in and his voice mingling with the _click-click_ +of the ball in the roulette-wheel. + +"Who is here?" he demanded. + +"I am," answered Jacqueline. + +"I thought I heard Lacroix," said Leroux thickly. + +"I have not seen M. Lacroix to-day," Jacqueline returned. + +Leroux stamped heavily about the room and then sat down. I heard the +legs of his chair scratch the wooden floor as he drew it up to the +table. + +"_Maudit_!" he burst out explosively. "Where is d'Epernay? I am tired +of waiting for him!" + +"I have told you many times that I do not know," answered Jacqueline; +and there followed the _click-click_ of the ball inside the wheel again. + +"How long will you keep up this pretense, _madame_?" cried Leroux +angrily. "What have you to gain by concealing the knowledge of your +husband from me?" + +"M. Leroux, why will you not believe that I remember nothing?" answered +Jacqueline. + +"How can you have forgotten? Why did you run away after marrying him? +What were you doing in New York? Who was the man who accompanied you +to the Merrimac?" he shouted. + +Through the chink of the door I saw the old man look up in mild protest +at the disturbing sounds. I clenched my fists, and the temptation to +make an end of Leroux was almost too strong for my restraint. + +But to Jacqueline the insult conveyed no meaning, and Leroux continued +in more moderate tones. + +"Come, _madame_, why do you not play fair with me?" he asked. "Who is +that man Hewlett, and why did he accompany you so far toward your +_château_? Before God, I know your husband and he have been plotting +with Tom Carson against me, but why he should thus place himself in my +power I cannot understand." + +"Ah, you have spoken of a Tom Carson many times," said Jacqueline. +"Soon, _monsieur_, I shall begin to believe that such a person really +exists." + +"Tell me where you met Hewlett." + +"I tell you for the last time, _monsieur_, that I do not remember. But +what I do remember I shall tell you. After my father had turned M. +Louis d'Epernay out of his home, whither he had come to beg money to +pay his gambling debts, you brought him back. You made my father take +him in. He wanted to marry me. But I refused, because I had no love +for him. But you insisted I should marry him, because he had gained +you the entrance to the seigniory and helped you to acquire your power +over my father. Oh, yes, _monsieur_, let us be frank with each other, +as you have expressed the desire to be." + +"Go on," growled Leroux, biting his lips. "Perhaps I shall learn +something." + +"Nothing that you do not already know, _monsieur_," she flashed out +with spirit. "My father came here, long ago, a political fugitive, in +danger of death. You knew this, and you played upon his fears. You +brought your friends and encouraged him to gamble and waste his money +in his old age, when his mind had become enfeebled. + +"Yes, you played on the old gambling instinct which had laid dormant in +him for forty years. You made him think he was acting the _grand +seigneur_, as his father had done in earlier days, in his other home at +St. Boniface. + +"You drained him of his last penny, and then you offered him ten +thousand dollars to gamble with in Quebec, telling him of the delights +of the city and promising him immunity," the girl went on +remorselessly. "And for this he was to assign his property to Louis, +thinking, of course, that he could soon make his fortune at the tables. +And Louis was to marry me, and in turn sell the seigniory to you. And +so I married Louis under threat of death to my father. + +"Oh, yes, _monsieur_, the plan was simple and well devised. And I knew +nothing of it. But Louis d'Epernay blurted it all out to me upon our +wedding night. I think the shame of knowing that I had been sold to +him unhinged my mind, for I ran out into the snows. + +"Now you know all, _monsieur_, for I remember nothing more until I +found myself travelling back with M. Hewlett in the sleigh. You say I +was in New York. Well, I do not remember it. + +"And as for Louis d'Epernay, I know nothing of him--but I will die +before he claims me as his wife!" + +She had grown breathless as she proceeded with her scathing +denunciation and now stood facing him with an aspect of fearless +challenge on her face. And then I had the measure of Leroux. He +laughed, and he beat down her scorn with scorn. + +"You have underestimated your price, _madame_," he sneered. "Since you +have learned so much, I will tell you more. You have cost me twenty +thousand dollars, and not ten; for besides the ten thousand paid to +your father, Louis got ten thousand also, upon the signing of the +marriage contract. So swallow that, and be proud of being priced so +high! And the seigniory is already his, and I am waiting for him to +return and sell me the ground rights for twenty-five thousand more, and +if I know Louis d'Epernay he will not wait very long to get his fingers +round it." + +Jacqueline stood watching him with supreme indifference. + +The man's coarse gibes had flown past her without wounding her, as they +would have hurt a lower nature. + +"No doubt he will return," she answered quietly. "If he would take ten +thousand for me, surely he will take twenty-five thousand for the +seigniory. You have us in your power." + +"Then why the devil doesn't he come?" roared Leroux. "If he is +intriguing with Carson, by God, I know enough to shut him up in jail +the rest of his life. And so, _madame_," he ended quietly, "it will +perhaps be worth your while to tell me why Tom Carson sent this Hewlett +back to the _château_; for no doubt the wolves have picked him pretty +clean by now." + +"Listen to me, Simon Leroux," said Jacqueline, standing up before him, +as indomitable in spirit as he. "All your plots and schemes mean +nothing to me. My only aim is to take my father away from here, from +you and M. d'Epernay, and let you wrangle over your spoil. There are +more than four-legged wolves, M. Leroux; there are human ones, and, +like the others, when food is scarce they prey upon each other." + +"I like your spirit!" exclaimed Simon, staring at her with frank +admiration. + +And Jacqueline's head drooped then. Unwittingly Simon had pierced her +defences. + +But he never knew, for before he had time to know the grey-beard rose +upon his feet and rubbed his thin hands together, chuckling. + +"Never mind your money, Simon," he said. "I'm going to be richer than +any of you. Do you know what I did with that ten thousand? I gave it +to my little daughter, and she has gone to New York to make our +fortunes at Mr. Daly's gaming-house. No, there she is!" he suddenly +exclaimed. "She has come back!" + +Leroux wheeled round and looked from one to the other. + +"So that was the purpose of your visit to New York?" he asked the girl. +"So--you have not quite forgotten that, _madame_! Your price was not +too vile a thing for you to take it to New York with you! Your shame +was not too great for you to remember that your father had ten thousand +dollars!" + +"It was not mine," she flashed back at Leroux. "My father would have +lost it again to you. I took it to New York because I thought that I +could make enough to give him a home during the rest of his days. Do +you think I would have touched a penny of it, _monsieur_?" + +"I don't know," answered Leroux. "But we will soon find out. Where is +that money, _madame_?" + +Jacqueline's lips quivered. I saw her glance involuntarily toward the +door behind which I was standing. + +And suddenly the last phase of the problem became clear to me. +Jacqueline thought I had robbed her. + +I stepped from behind the door and faced Leroux. "I have that money," +I said curtly. + +I saw his face turn white. He staggered back, and then, with a bull's +bellow, rushed at me, his heavy fists aloft. I think he could have +beaten out my brains with them. + +But he stopped short when he saw my automatic pistol pointing at his +chest. And he saw in my face that I was ready to shoot to kill. + +"You thief--you spy--you treacherous hound, I'll murder you!" he roared. + +The dotard, who had been looking at me, came forward. + +"No, no, I won't have him murdered, Simon," he protested, laying a +trembling hand on Leroux's shoulder. "He has almost as good a roulette +system as I have." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +WON--AND LOST + +We must have stood confronting each other for fully a minute. Then +Leroux dropped his hands and smiled sourly at me. + +"You seem--temporarily--to have the advantage of me, M. Hewlett," he +said. "I respect your pertinacity, and now at last I am content in +having discovered the motive of your enterprise. I thought you were +hired by Carson. If you had been frank with me we might have come to +an understanding long ago. + +"So, since you have managed to come thus far, and since I am a man of +business, the best thing we can do is to talk over our difficulties and +try to adjust them. You will recall that on the occasion of our +meeting in New York I asked you what your price was. But of course you +were not then prepared to answer me, since you had your price already. +Well, have you come here to get more?" + +There was an indescribable insolence in his tone. In spite of the fact +that I had him at my mercy, the man's force and courage almost made him +my master then. + +"You may leave us, Mme. d'Epernay," he said to Jacqueline. "No doubt +your absence will spare your feelings, for we are going to be frank in +our speech." + +"I thank you for your consideration, M. Leroux," replied Jacqueline, +and walked quietly out of the room. It occurred to me that Leroux +could hardly be more frank than he had been, but I sat down and waited. +The ball was clicking round the wheel again, and very faintly, through +the roar of the cataracts, I heard the sound of the fiddle below. + +Leroux sat down heavily. + +"I will put down my cards," he said. "I have you here in my power. I +have four men with me. This dotard"--he glanced contemptuously at old +Duchaine--"has no bearing on the situation. You can, of course, kill +me; but that would not help you. You are in possession of some money +belonging to Mme. d'Epernay, and also of certain information that I +shall be glad to receive. There is no law in this valley except my +will. Give me the information I want, keep your money, and go." + +I waited. + +"In the first place, are you, or are you not, in Carson's pay? I shall +believe your answer because, if you are, I shall offer you a better +price to join me, and therefore it will not pay you to lie. But you +will not be able to deceive me by pretending to be." + +"I am not," I answered. + +"Then why did he send you here?" + +"I left his employ three days before I met Mme. d'Epernay. If you were +in New York you must have seen that I was not there." + +"Good. Second, where is Louis d'Epernay?" + +"I have never seen the man," I replied. + +Leroux glanced incredulously at me. + +"Then your meeting with _madame_ was purely an accident?" he inquired. +"Your only desire, then, was to get the money you knew she was carrying +with her? But how did you know that she was carrying that money?" + +I shrugged my shoulders. How was it possible for us to reach an +understanding? + +"I don't know why you are lying to me," he said. "It is not to your +advantage. You must have known that she was in New York; Louis must +have told Carson, and he must have told you. And Louis must have told +you the secret of the entrance, unless----" + +"Listen to me!" I cried furiously. "I will not be badgered with any +more questions. I have told you the truth. I met Mme. d'Epernay by +accident, and I escorted her toward the _château_, and followed her +after you kidnapped her, to protect her from you." + +He grunted and glanced at me with an inscrutable expression upon his +hard features. + +"You are in love with her?" he asked. + +"Put it that way if you choose," I answered. + +He scowled at me ferociously, and then he began studying my face. I +returned stare for stare. Finally he banged his big fist down upon the +table. + +"Well, it doesn't matter," he said, "because, whatever your purpose, +you cannot do any harm. And you understand that she is a married +woman. So you will, no doubt, agree to take your money and depart?" + +"I shall go if she tells me to go," I answered; but even while I spoke +my heart sank, for I had little hope. + +"That is easily settled," answered Leroux. "I will bring her back and +you shall hear the decision from her own lips." + +He left the room, and I sat there alone beside the dotard, listening to +the click of the ball and the chink of the coins, and the roar of the +twin cataracts above. + +In truth, I had no further excuse for staying. I knew what +Jacqueline's reply must be. + +But there had been a sinister smoothness in Leroux's latest mood. I +did not trust the man, for all his bluntness. I suspected something, +and I did not intend to relax my guard. + +A gentle touch upon the elbow made me leap round in my chair. Old +Charles Duchaine had ceased to play and was watching me out of his mild +eyes. His fingers stroked my coat-sleeve timidly, as though he were +afraid of me. + +"Don't go away!" he said with a shrewd leer. "Don't go away!" + +"Eh?" I exclaimed, startled at this answer to my own self-questioning. + +"Simon is a bad man," whispered the greybeard, putting his nodding head +close down to mine. "He won't let you go away. He never lets anyone +go when they have come here. He didn't know my little daughter was +going, but I was too clever for him, because he wasn't here. They +think I am a silly old man, but I know more than they think. Simon +thinks he has got me in his power, but he hasn't." + +"How is that?" I inquired, startled at the man's sincerity. I fancied +that he must have been pretending to be half imbecile for reasons of +his own. + +"I have a system," leered the dotard. "I can win thousands and +millions with it. I have been perfecting it for years. I have sent my +little daughter to New York to play. Then I shall put Simon out of the +house and we shall all be happy in Quebec together." + +I turned from him in disgust, and, after ineffectually tapping my arm +for a few moments, he went back to his wheel. But, though I was +disappointed to discover that my surmise as to his playing a part was +incorrect, his words set me thinking. An imbecile old person is often +a fair reader of character. Was Simon plotting something? + +He came back with Jacqueline before I could decide. + +"If you bid him, _madame_, M. Hewlett is willing to take his +departure," said Leroux to her. "Is it your wish that he remain or go?" + +"Oh, I want you to go, _monsieur_," said Jacqueline, clasping her hands +pleadingly. Her eyes were full of tears, which trickled down her +cheeks, and she turned her head away. "There is no reason why you +should remain, _monsieur_," she said. + +"Are you saying this of your free will, Jacqueline?" I cried. + +She nodded, and I saw Simon's evil face crease with suppressed mirth. + +I rose up. "Adieu, then, _madame_," I said. "But first permit me to +restore the money that I have been keeping for you." And I took out my +pocketbook. + +Simon stared at me incredulously. + +"I do not understand you in the least, now, M. Hewlett," he exclaimed. +"You are to keep the money. I do not go back upon my bargains." + +"It is not, however, your money," I retorted, though I knew that it +soon would be. "I shall return it to Mme. d'Epernay, who entrusted me +with it. Beyond that I care nothing as to its ultimate destination, +though perhaps I can guess. Naturally I do not carry eight thousand +dollars about with me----" + +"Ten thousand!" shouted Simon. + +"Mme. d'Epernay gave me eight thousand," I said. "I do not know +anything about ten thousand. Probably Mr. Daly has the rest. But, as +I was saying, I shall give you a check----" + +Leroux burst into loud laughter and slapped me heartily upon the +shoulder. + +"Paul Hewlett," he said, with genuine admiration, "you are as good as a +play. My friend, it would have paid you to have accepted my own offer. +However, you declined it and I shall not renew it. Well, let us take +your check, and it shall be accepted in full settlement." He winked at +me and thrust his tongue into his cheek. + +I was too sick at heart to pay attention to his buffoonery. I sat down +at the table and, taking up a pen which lay there, wrote a check for +eight thousand dollars, making it out to Jacqueline d'Epernay. This I +handed to her. + +"_Adieu, madame_," I said. + +"_Adieu, monsieur_," she answered almost inaudibly, her head bent low. + +I went out of the room, still gripping my pistol, and I took care to +let Simon see it as we descended the stairs side by side. The noisy +laughter in the ballroom had ceased, but I heard Raoul and Jean +Petitjean quarrelling, and their thick voices told me that they were in +no condition to aid their master. + +Then there were only Leroux and Philippe Lacroix to deal with. I could +have saved the situation. + +What a fool I had been! What an irresolute fool! I never learned. + +As we reached the bottom of the stairs Philippe Lacroix came out of the +ballroom carrying a candle. I saw his melancholy, pale face twist with +surprise as he perceived me. + +"Philippe, this is M. Paul Hewlett," said Leroux. "To-morrow you will +convey him to the cabin of Père Antoine, where he will be able to make +his own plans. You will go by way of _le Vieil Ange_." + +Lacroix started violently, muttered something, and passed up the +stairs, often turning to stare, as I surmised from the brief occasions +of his footsteps. + +"Now, M. Hewlett, I shall show you your sleeping-quarters for +to-night," Leroux continued to me, and conducted me out into the fenced +yard. A number of Eskimo-dogs were lying there, and one of them came +bounding up to me and began to sniff at my clothes, betraying every +sign of recognition. + +This I knew to be the beast that I had taken to the home. How it had +managed to make its escape I could not imagine; but it had evidently +come northward with hardly a pause; and not only that, but had +accompanied us on our journey from St. Boniface at a distance, like the +half-wild creature that it was. + +Two sleighs were standing before the huts. Leroux led me past them and +knocked at the door of the largest cabin. + +"Pierre Caribou!" he shouted. + +He was facing the door and did not see what I saw at the little window +on the other side. I saw the face of the old Indian, distorted with a +grimace of fury as he eyed Leroux. + +Next moment he stood cringing before him, his features a mask. Looking +in, I saw a huge stove which nearly filled the interior, and seated +beside it the middle-aged squaw. + +"This gentleman will sleep here to-night," said Leroux curtly. "In the +morning at sunrise harness a sleigh for him and M. Lacroix. Adieu, M. +Hewlett," he continued, turning to me. "And be sure your check will +never be presented." + +There was something so sinister in his manner that again I felt that +thrill of fear which he seemed able to inspire in me. + +He was less human than any man I had known. He impressed me always as +the incarnation of resolute evil. That was his strength--he was both +bad and resolute. If bad men were in general brave, evil would rule +the world as he ruled his. He swung upon his heel and left me. + +I went in with Pierre Caribou, and the squaw glided out of the cabin. +There were two couches of the kind they used to call ottomans inside, +which had evidently once formed part of the _château_ furnishings for +their faded splendour accorded little with the decrepit interior of the +hut. + +I looked at my watch. I had thought it must be midnight, and it was +only eight. Within three hours I had won Jacqueline and lost her +forever. With Leroux in my power, I had yielded and gone away. + +And on the morrow I should arrive at Père Antoine's hut just when he +expected me. + +Surely the mockery of fate could go no further! + +I sank down on one of the divans and buried my face in my hands, while +Pierre Caribou busied himself preparing food over the stove. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +TEE OLD ANGEL + +Presently the Indian touched me on the shoulder and I looked up. He +had a plateful of steaming stew in his hands, and set it down beside me. + +"Eat!" he said in English. + +I was too dispirited and dejected to obey him at first. But soon I +managed to fall to, and I was surprised to discover how ravenous I was. +I had eaten hardly anything for days, and only a few mouthfuls since +morning. + +As I was eating there came a scratching at the door, and the Eskimo-dog +pushed its way into the cabin and came bounding to my side. I stroked +and petted it, and gave it the remnants of my meal, while Pierre +watched us. + +"You know him dog?" he asked. + +"I saw it in New York," I answered. "It brought me to Mlle. +Jacqueline." + +My mind was very much alert just then. It was as though some hidden +monitor within me had taken control to guide me through a maze of +unknown dangers. It was that inner prompting which had forbidden me to +say "Mme. d'Epernay." + +I had a consciousness of some impending horror. And I was shaking and +all a sweat--with fear, too--gripping fear! + +Yet the old name sounded as sweet as ever to my lips. + +The Indian drew the stool near me and sat down. "You meet Mlle. +Jacqueline in New York?" he asked. + +"I brought her back," I answered. + +"I know," the Indian answered. "I meet Simon; drive him from St. +Boniface to _château_. He want shoot you. I say no, you blind man, +him leave you die in snow. I take Ma'm'selle Jacqueline to St. +Boniface when she run 'way. Simon not here then or I be 'fraid. Simon +bad man. He give my gal to Jean Petitjean. My gal good gal till Simon +give her to Jean Petitjean. Simon bad man. Me kill him one day." + +I saw a glimmer of hope now, though of what I hardly knew; or perhaps +it was only the desire to talk of Jacqueline and hear her name upon my +lips and Pierre's. + +"Pierre Caribou," I said, "wouldn't you like to have the old days back +when M. Duchaine was master and there was no Simon Leroux?" + +He did not answer me, but I saw his face-muscles twitch. Then he +pulled a pipe from his pocket and stuffed it with a handful of coarse +tobacco. He handed it to me and struck a match and held it to the bowl. + +When the tobacco was alight he took another pipe and began smoking also. + +I had not smoked for days, and I inhaled the rank tobacco-fumes through +the old pipe gratefully. I was smoking, with an Indian, and that meant +what it has always meant. A black cloud seemed to have been lifted +from my mind. And I was not trembling any more. + +But how warily I was reaching out toward my companion. + +"Pierre, I came here to save Mlle. Jacqueline," I said. + +"No can save him," he answered. "No can fight against Simon." + +"What, in the devil's name, is his power, then?" I cried. + +"_Le diable_," he replied. He may have misunderstood me, but the +answer was apt. "No use fight him," he said. "All finish now. Old +times, him finish, and my gal, too. Soon Pierre Caribou, him finish. +No can fight Simon. Perhaps old Pierre kill him, nobody else." He +looked steadily at me. "I poison him dogs," he added. + +"What?" I exclaimed. + +"Simon, him tell me long ago nobody come to _château_. So you finish, +too, maybe. What he tell you, you go?" + +"Lacroix is going to take me to Père Antoine's cabin to-morrow +morning," I answered. + +The Indian grunted. "Simon no mean to let you go," he said. "He mean +kill you. You know too much. Sometime he kill me, too, or I kill him. +Once I live in old _château_ at St. Boniface with old M'sieur Duchaine. +Good days then, not like how. Hunt plenty game. Fine people come from +Quebec, not like Simon. M'sieur Charles small boy then. All finish +now." + +"Pierre," I said, taking him by the arm, "what is the Old Angel--_le +Vieil Ange_?" + +He stared stolidly at me. + +"Why you ask that?" he said. + +"Because Lacroix has been instructed to take me by that route," I +answered. + +Pierre said not a word, but smoked in silence. I sat upon the couch +waiting. His face was quite impassive, but I knew that my question was +of tremendous import to me. + +At last he shook the ashes out of his pipe and rose. "Come with me," +he said. "I show you--because you frien' of Ma'm'selle Jacqueline. +Come." + +I followed him out of the hut. A large moon was just rising out of the +east, but it was not yet high enough to cast much light. + +Still Pierre seemed in deadly terror of Simon, for he motioned me to +creep, as he was creeping, out of the enclosure, bending low beside the +fence, so that a watcher from the _château_ might not detect our +silhouettes against the snow-covered lake. + +When we were clear of the _château_, or, rather, the lit portion of it, +Pierre began to run swiftly, still in a crouching position, and in this +way we gained the tunnel entrance. + +He took me by the arm, for it was too dark for me to follow him by +sight, and we traversed, perhaps, a mile of outer blackness. Then I +began to see a gleam of moonlight in front of me, and, though I had not +been conscious of making any turn, I discovered that we must have +retraced our course completely, for I heard the roar of the cataracts +again. + +Then we emerged upon a tiny shelf of rock some forty feet up the face +of the wall, and quite invisible from below. It was a little above the +level of the _château_ roof, about a hundred yards away. Below me I +could see the main entrance to the tunnel. + +We had a foothold of about ten feet on the level platform, which was +slippery with smooth, black ice, and thundering over us, so near that I +could almost have touched it had I stretched out my hand, the whirling +torrent plunged into that hell below. + +It was a terrific scene. Above us that stream of white water, +resembling nothing so much as a high-pressure jet from a fireman's hose +magnified a thousand times, curved like a crystal arch, and so compact +by reason of its force that not a drop splashed us. It was as strong +as a steel girder, and I think it would have cut steel. + +Pierre caught my arm as I reeled, sick with the shock of the discovery, +and yelled into my ear above the dim. + +"_Le Vieil Ange_!" he cried. "This way Simon mean you to go to-morrow. +Lacroix him tell you: 'Get down, we find the road.' He take you up +here and push you--so." + +He made a graphic gesture with his arm and pointed. I looked down, +shuddering, into the black, foam-crested water, bubbling and whirling +among the grotesque ice-pillars that stood like sentries upon the brink. + +The horror of the plot quite unmanned me. I groped for the shelter of +the tunnel, and clung to the rocky wall to save myself from obeying a +wild impulse to cast myself headlong into the flood below. + +I perceived now that the whole face of the wall was honeycombed with +tunnels of natural formation running into the recesses of the +limestone. I wondered that the whole structure, undermined thus and +pressed down by the weight of millions of tons of ice above where the +glacier lay, did not collapse and crumble down in ruin. + +Rivulets gushed from the wall everywhere, mingling their contributory +waters with those of the twin torrents. The plateau seemed to be the +watershed in which the drainage of the entire territory had its origin. +Within those connecting caves, if a man knew their secret, he might +hide from a regiment. + +Pierre followed me to the mouth of the tunnel and gripped me by both +arms. + +"What you do?" he asked. "You go to Père Antoine to-night? What you +do now?" + +I took the pistol from my coat pocket. + +"Pierre," I answered, "I have two bullets here, and both of them are +for Simon. To-night I had him in my power and spared him. Now I am +going back, and I shall shoot him down like a dog, whether he is armed +or defenceless." + +"You no shoot Simon," the Indian grunted. "_Le diable_ him frien'. +You had him to-night; why you no shoot him then?" + +I did not know. But I was going to find out soon. + +"I am going back to kill him now," I repeated. "Afterward I do not +know what will happen. But you can go on to the hut of Père Antoine +and, if luck is with me, I shall meet you, there--perhaps with Mlle. +Jacqueline." + +But I had little hope of meeting him with Jacqueline. Only I could not +forbear to speak her name again. + +Pierre's face was twitching. "You no go back!" he cried. "Simon he +kill you. No use to fight Simon. Him time not come yet. When him +time come, he die." + +"When will it come?" I asked, looking at the man's features, which were +distorted with frenzied hate. + +"I not know!" exclaimed Pierre. "I try find--cards to tell me. No +Indian man in this part country remember how to tell me. In old days +many could tell. Now I wait. When his time come, old Indian know. He +kill Simon then himself. Nobody else kill Simon. No use you try." + +I own that, standing there and thinking upon the man's hellish design, +his unscrupulousness, his singular success, I felt the old fear of +Leroux in my heart, and with it something of the same superstition of +his invulnerability. But my resolution surpassed my fear, and I knew +it would not fail me. How often had I resolved--and forgotten. Not +again would I forget. + +I shook the Indian's hands away and plunged forward into the tunnel +again. I heard him calling after me; but I think he saw that I was not +to be deterred, for he made no attempt to follow me. + +And so I went on and on through the darkness, and with each step toward +the _château_ my resolution grew. + +I seemed to have been travelling for a much longer period than before. +Every moment, straining my eyes, I expected to see the light of the +entrance, but the road went on straight apparently, and there was +nothing but the darkness. + +At last I stood still; and then, just as I was thinking of retracing my +steps, I felt a breath of air upon my forehead. + +I hurried on again, and in another minute I saw a faint light in front +of me. Presently it grew more distinct. I was approaching the +tunnel's mouth. But I stopped again. I was waiting for something--to +hear something that I did not hear. Then I knew that it was the sound +of the waterfalls. In place of them there was only the gurgling of a +brook. + +My elbow grated against the tunnel wall. I stepped sidewise toward the +centre, and ran against the wall opposite. Now, by the stronger light, +I could see that I had strayed once again into some byway, for the +passage was hardly three feet wide and the low roof almost touched my +head. + +It narrowed and grew lower still; but the light of the stars was clear +in front of me and the cold wind blew upon my face; and I squeezed +through into the same scooped-out hollow which I had entered on the +same afternoon during the course of my journey toward the _château_. + +I had approached it apparently through a mere fissure in the rocks upon +the opposite side and at a point where I had assured myself that there +could be no passage. The little river gurgled at my feet, and in front +of me I saw a candle flickering in the recesses of a cave, so elfinlike +that I could distinguish it only by shielding my eyes against the moon +and stars. + +I grasped my pistol tightly and crept noiselessly forward. If this +should be Leroux, as I was convinced it was, I would not parley with +him. I would shoot him down in his tracks. + +My moccasined feet pressed the soft ground without the slightest sound. +I gained the entrance to the cave. Within it, his back toward me, a +man was stooping down. + +As I stepped nearer him my feet dislodged a pebble, which rolled with a +splash into the bed of the stream. + +The man started and spun around, and I saw before me the pale, +melancholy features of Philippe Lacroix. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +LOUIS D'EPERNAY + +He uttered an oath and took two steps backward, but I saw that he was +unarmed and that he realized his helplessness. He flung his hands +above his head and stood facing me, surprise and terror twisting his +features into a grimacing grin. + +There was no man, next to Leroux, whom I would rather have seen. + +"I wanted to see you, M. Hewlett," he babbled. + +"I can quite believe that, M. Lacroix," I answered. "You have looked +for me before. But this time you have found me." + +"I have something of importance to say to you, _monsieur_," he began +again. + +"I can believe that, too," I answered. "It is about _le Vieil Ange_, +is it not?" + +"By God, I did not mean--I swear to you, _monsieur_--listen, +_monsieur_, one moment only," he stammered. "Lower your pistol. You +see that I am unarmed!" + +I lowered it. "Well, say what you have to say," I said to him. + +"Leroux is a devil!" he burst out, with no pretended passion. "I want +you to help me, M. Hewlett, and I can help you in a way you do not +dream of. I am not one of his kind, to take his orders. Why in Quebec +he would be like the dirt beneath my feet. He has a hold over me; he +tempted me to gamble in one of his houses, and I--well, he has a hold +over me. But he shall not drive me into murder. M. Hewlett, how much +do you think this seigniory is worth?" + +"I am not a financier," I answered. "Some half a million dollars, +perhaps." + +He came close to me and hissed into my ear: "_Monsieur_, there is more +gold in these rocks than anywhere in the world! Look here! Here!" + +He stooped down and began tossing pebbles at my feet. But they were +pebbles of pure gold, and each one of them was as large as the first +joint of my thumb. And I had misjudged his courage, I think, for it +was avarice and not fear that made him tremble. + +So that was Lacroix's master-passion! I had always associated it with +decrepit old age, as in the case of Charles Duchaine. + +I looked into the cave. Lacroix was bending over a great heap of +sacks, piled almost to the roof. They were sacks of earth, but the +earth was naked with gold, and I saw nuggets glittering in it. + +"It is everywhere, _monsieur_!" cried Lacroix. "In this stream, in +these hills, too. You can gather a mortarful of earth anywhere, and it +will show colour when it is washed. We found this place together----" + +"You and Leroux?" + +"No! I and----" + +He broke off suddenly and eyed me with furtive cunning. + +"Yes, yes, _monsieur_, Leroux and I. And we two worked here together, +with nothing more than picks and shovels and mortars and pestles, +Leroux and I. There was nobody else. We slept here when Duchaine +thought we were in Quebec. For days and days we washed and dug, and we +have hardly scratched the surface. Monsieur, it is the Mother Lode, it +is the world's treasure-house! There are millions upon millions here!" + +I understood now why the provisions had been stored there. And I had +passed by and never known that there was an ounce of gold! But---- + +"There are three blankets here," I said. + +"Yes, yes, _monsieur_!" cried Lacroix eagerly. "I suffer much from +cold. Two of them are mine, and Leroux has only one. It is the +richest gold deposit in the world, M. Hewlett, and neither Raoul nor +Jean Petitjean knows the secret--only Leroux and I. One cannot light +upon this place save by a miracle of chance, such as brought you here. +God put this treasure in these hills, and He did not mean it to be +found." + +I grasped him by the shoulder. "Do you see what this means?" I shouted. + +"It means a glorious life!" he cried. "All the wealth in the world----" + +"No, it means _death_!" I answered. "It means that if Leroux succeeds +in killing me, he will kill you, too! Don't you see that we must stand +together? Do you suppose that he will share his hoard with you?" + +"No, M. Hewlett," answered Lacroix quietly. "And that is precisely +what I wanted to say to you. You are not a hog like Leroux; I can +trust you. And then you are a gentleman, and we gentlemen trust each +other. I will give you a share in the gold, and you will get +_mademoiselle_. She has no love for Louis. She left him half an hour +after the marriage had been performed. Leroux witnessed the ceremony, +and he hurried away with Père Antoine, and then she ran away. She +loves you! And Louis will not trouble you!" + +"Faugh!" I muttered. "I don't want to hear your views on--on Mlle. +Jacqueline, my friend. But it seems to me that our interests are +mutual, and, as it happens, I was on my way back to have it out with +Leroux when I stumbled upon this place." + +"But I can show you the way," he exclaimed. "Come with me, _monsieur_. +I don't know how you got into the wrong passage, but it is +simple--straight ahead. Come with me! I will precede you." + +I followed him into the darkness, and very soon heard the sound of the +cataract again. And then once more I was standing at the tunnel +entrance, under a brilliant moon, and the _château_ was before me. + +It was all dark now, except for a glimmer of light that came from two +windows on the far side, visible indirectly as a reflection from the +snowy steeps beyond. That must be Duchaine's room. + +Leroux's I did not know, of course, but I surmised that it was one of +those on the same story, which I had passed while making my previous +tour of discovery. But this ignorance did not cause me much concern. +I knew that, once we were face to face together, I should gain the +victory over him. + +And I would be merciless and not falter. + +And Jacqueline! If I won, should I not keep her? She was mine, even +against her will, by every rule of war. And this was a world of war, +where beauty went to the strong, and all rules but that were scratched +from the book of life. + +I would not even tread softly now, nor slink within the shadows. Nor +did I fear Lacroix, although he had fallen out of sight behind me. + +I strode steadily across the snow and opened the door in the dark wing, +entered the hall and ascended the stairway, took the turn to the right +and passed through the little hall. As I had guessed, the light came +from Duchaine's room. + +I heard Leroux's harsh voice within; and if I stopped outside it was +not in indecision, but because I meant to make sure of my man this time. + +Through the crack of the door I saw old Charles Duchaine nodding over +his wheel. Leroux was standing near him, and in a corner, beside the +window, was Jacqueline. She was facing our common enemy as valiantly +as she had done before. And he was still tormenting her. + +"I want you, Jacqueline," I heard him say, in a voice which betrayed no +throb of passion. "And I am going to have you. I always have my way, +I am not like that weak fool, Hewlett." + +"It was I sent him away, not you," she cried. "Do you think he was +afraid of you?" + +Leroux looked at her in admiration. + +"You are a splendid woman, Jacqueline," he said. "I like the way you +defy me. But you are quite at my mercy. And you are going to yield! +You will yield your will to mine----" + +"Never!" she cried. "I will fling myself into the lake before that +shall happen. Ah, _monsieur_"--her voice took on a pleading tone--"why +will you not take all we have and let us go? We are two helpless +people; we shall never betray your secrets. Why must you have me too?" + +"Because I love you, Jacqueline," he cried, and now I heard an +undertone of passion which I had not suspected in the man. "I am not a +scoundrel, Jacqueline. Life is a hard game, and I have played it hard. +And I have loved you for a long time, but I would not tell you until I +had the right as well as the power--but now my love is my law, and I +will conquer you!" + +He caught her in his arms. She uttered a little, gasping cry, and +struggled wildly and ineffectually in his grasp. + +I was quite cold, for I knew that was to be the last of his villainies. +I entered the room and walked up to the table, my pistol raised, aiming +at his heart, and I felt my own heart beat steadily, and the will to +kill rise dominant above every hesitation. + +Leroux spun round. He saw me, and he smiled his sour smile. He did +not flinch, although he must have seen that my hand was as steady as a +rock. I could not withhold a certain admiration for the man, but this +did not weaken me. + +"What, you again, _monsieur_?" he asked mockingly. "You have come +back? You are always coming back, aren't you?" + +The truth of the diagnosis struck home to me. Yes, I was always coming +back. But this time I had come back to stay. + +"Can I do anything further for you, M. Hewlett?" he asked. "Was not +your bed comfortable? Do you want something, or is it only habit that +has brought you back here where nobody wants you?" + +"I have come back to kill you, Leroux," I answered, and pulled the +trigger six times. + +And each time I heard nothing but the click of the hammer. + +Then, with his bull's bellow, Simon was upon me, dashing his fists into +my face, and bearing me down. My puny struggles were as ineffective as +though I had been fighting ten men. He had me on the floor and was +kneeling on my chest, and in a trice the other ruffians had come +dashing along the hall. + +Jacqueline was beating with her little fists upon Leroux's broad back, +but he did not even feel the blows. I heard old Charles Duchaine's +piping cries of fear, and then somebody held me by the throat, and I +was swimming in black water. + +"Bring a rope, Raoul!" I heard Simon call. + +Half conscious, I knew that I was being tied. I felt the rope tighten +upon my wrists and limbs; presently I opened my aching eyes to find +myself trussed like a chicken to two legs of the table. I think it was +Jean Petitjean who said something about shooting me, and was knocked +down for it. Leroux was yelling like a demoniac. I saw Jacqueline's +terrified face and the trembling old man; and presently Leroux was +standing over me again, perfectly calm. + +He had taken the pistol from my coat pocket and placed it on the table, +and now he took it in his hand and held it under my eyes. The magazine +was empty. + +"Ah, Paul Hewlett, you are a very poor conspirator, indeed," he said, +"to try to shoot a man without anything in your pistol. Do you +remember how affectionately I put my arm round you when you were +sitting in that chair writing your ridiculous check? It was then that +I took the liberty of extracting the two cartridges. But I did think +you would have had sense to examine your pistol and reload before you +returned." + +Jacqueline was clinging to him. "Monsieur," she panted, "you will +spare his life? You will unfasten him and let him go?" + +"But he keeps coming back," protested Leroux, wringing his hands in +mock dismay. + +"Spare him, _monsieur_, and God will bless you! You cannot kill him in +cold blood," she cried. + +"We will talk about that presently, my dear," he answered. "Go and sit +down like a good child. I have something more to ask this gentleman +before I make my decision." + +He picked up a scrap of newspaper from the table and held it before my +eyes, deliberately turning up the oil-lamp wick that I might read it. +I recognized it at once. It was the clipping from the newspaper, +descriptive of the murdered man, which I had cut out in the train and +placed in my pocketbook. + +"You dropped this, my friend, when you pulled out your check-book," +said Simon. "You are a very poor conspirator, Paul Hewlett. Assuredly +I would not have you on my side at any price. Well?" + +"Well?" I repeated mechanically. + +"Who killed him?" he shouted. + +He shook the paper before my eyes and then he struck me across the face +with it. + +"Who killed Louis d'Epernay?" he yelled, and Jacqueline screamed in +fear. + +"I did," I answered after a moment. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE LITTLE DAGGER + +Leroux staggered back against the wall and stood there, scowling like a +devil. It was evident that my answer had been totally unexpected. I +had never seen him under the influence of any overwhelming emotion, and +I did not at the time understand the cause of his consternation. + +Jacqueline was clinging to her father, and the old man looked from one +to the other of us in bewilderment, and shook his white head and +mumbled. + +"Did you--know this, _madame_?" cried Leroux fiercely to Jacqueline. + +"Yes," she replied. + +"So this is why you pretended to have forgotten. You remembered +everything?" + +"Yes." + +"You lied to shield yourself?" + +"No, to shield him," she cried. "Because he was my only friend when I +was helpless in a strange city. You did not steal my money, did you, +Paul?" she added, turning swiftly upon me. "No, you have paid me. You +were keeping it for me." + +"You lie!" yelled Leroux, and he struck her across the mouth as he had +struck me. + +I writhed in my bonds. I pulled the heavy table after me as I tried +impotently to crawl toward him, sending the wheel flying and all the +papers whirling through the air. I cursed Leroux as blasphemously as +he was cursing Jacqueline. I saw a trickle of blood on her cut lip, +and the proud smile upon her face as she defied him. + +And at the door was the pale face of Philippe Lacroix. + +Leroux turned on me and kicked me savagely, and dragged the table to +the far end of the room, and struck me repeatedly, while I struggled +like a madman. The oaths and execrations that streamed from my lips +seemed to be uttered by another man, for I heard them indifferently, or +rather something that was I, deep in the maze of my personality, heard +them--not that pitiful, puny, goaded thing that fought in its bonds +until it ceased, panting and exhausted. + +There followed a long silence, while Leroux strode furiously about the +room. At last he stopped; he seemed to have made up his mind. + +"I understand now," he said, nodding his head. "So you are the man who +took this woman to the Merrimac. And then to your home, and Louis +d'Epernay followed you there, and, naturally, you killed him. Well, it +is intelligible. You were not acting for Carson after all, but were +infatuated with this woman. Well--but----" He wheeled and turned to +Jacqueline. "I will marry you still!" + +She did not deign to answer him nor to wipe away the blood that +trickled down her chin. + +"Do you know why?" he bawled. + +She raised her eyes indifferently to his. I saw that, though her +spirit was unbroken, she was weary to death. + +"Because you become part heir of the seigniory by your husband's +death!" he shouted; and then he took Charles Duchaine by the arm and +began shaking him violently. + +"Listen, you old fool!" he cried. "Your son-in-law is dead--Louis +d'Epernay!" + +Charles Duchaine looked at Leroux in his mild way. He had put one arm +round his daughter, and he seemed to understand that Simon was +maltreating her, and to wish to defend her; but his wits were still +wandering, and I saw that he understood only a little of what was +passing. + +"Louis d'Epernay is dead!" cried Simon, shaking the old man again. + +"Well, well!" answered Duchaine, stroking his long beard with his free +hand. "So Louis is dead! Did you kill him, Simon?" + +"No, I didn't kill him," Simon sneered. "Wake up a little more, +Duchaine. Do you know what happens now he is dead?" + +"I expect you to get some more money, Simon," answered the old man with +an ingenuousness that made the reply more stinging than any intended +irony. + +Leroux burst into a mirthless laugh. + +"You are quite right, Duchaine," he answered. "And I am not going to +mince matters. I have a hold over you, and you will do my bidding. +You will assign your share to me as your son-in-law." + +I saw Jacqueline looking at me. I would not meet her gaze, but at last +her persistence compelled me. Then I saw her glance toward the wall. + +The two broadswords hung there, within arm's reach, above the broken +mirror. My heart leaped up at the thought of her valour. She had no +mind to yield! + +But I shook my head imperceptibly in answer, and looked down at my +bonds. + +"I don't want you to marry my daughter, Simon," said old Duchaine +mildly. "I saw you strike her in the face just now. No gentleman +would do that. Come, Simon, you know you are not a gentleman; you +ought not to think of such a thing. Jacqueline would not be happy with +you. What does she say?" + +"I don't care what she says," snarled Leroux. "I will take care of +that." + +I had been trying hard to devise some method of freeing myself. My +struggles had relaxed the ropes around my wrists sufficiently to allow +my hands two or three inches of movement, and I hoped, by hard work, to +loosen them sufficiently to enable me to get at least one hand free. + +Then I felt that something hard was pressing into my back, just within +reach of my right thumb and forefinger. My fur coat, which was still +round me, was twisted, so that the inside breast-pocket was behind me, +and I fancied that the hard object was something that I had placed in +this receptacle. + +I let my thumb and finger travel up and down it. It had the form of a +tiny knife, with a heavy, rounded handle. + +And suddenly I knew what it was. It was the knife with which Louis +d'Epernay had been killed! + +I must have put it in my breast-pocket at some time, intending to throw +it away, and it had slipped through a hole in the lining and gone down +as far as the next ridge of fur, where it had become wedged. + +I could just get my finger and thumb round the point of the blade. The +ropes scored deeply into my wrists as I worked at it, but I felt the +lining give, and presently I had worked the blade through and had the +knife out by the handle. + +But it was made for thrusting more than cutting, and I had to pick the +ropes to pieces, strand by strand. + +Jacqueline had been imperceptibly edging away from her father and +Leroux; she was now standing immediately beneath the rusty swords. And +outside the door I still perceived Lacroix, motionless. + +It flashed across my mind that he understood the girl's desperate ruse, +and that he was waiting for the issue. I picked furiously at the ropes +which bound my hands, and a long strand uncoiled and whipped back on my +wrist. + +Suddenly I heard old Charles Duchaine bring down his fist with a +vigorous thud upon the end of the table. + +"I'll see you in ---- first, Simon!" was his unexpected remark. + +"What?" cried Simon, taken completely aback. + +"No, Simon," continued the old man in his mild voice once more. "You +are not a gentleman you know, and you are not fit to marry Jacqueline." + +Leroux thrust his hard face into the old man's. + +"Duchaine, your wits are wandering," he answered. "Listen now! Have +you forgotten that the government is searching for you night and day? +It was a long time ago that you killed a soldier of the Canadian +forces, but not too long ago for the government to remember. It has a +long memory and a long arm, too, and at a word from me----" + +It was pitiful to see the change that came over Duchaine's face. He +shook with fear and stretched out his withered hands appealingly. + +"Simon, you wouldn't betray me after all these years of friendship?" he +cried. "_Mon Dieu_, I do not wish to hang!" + +"Keep calm, Charles, my friend," responded Simon glibly. "I am ready +to return friendship for friendship. Will you acknowledge me as your +son-in-law and heir?" + +"Yes," stammered the old man. "Take everything, Simon; only leave me +free." + +"Well, that is more reasonable," said Leroux, evidently mollified. "I +am not the man to go back on my friends. I shall give you a cash +return of ten thousand dollars. You have not forgotten the old times +in Quebec?" + +"No, Simon," muttered Duchaine, looking up hopefully at him. + +"If you had ten thousand dollars, Charles, you could make your fortune +in a week. They play high nowadays, and your system would sweep all +before it." + +"Yes, yes!" cried the dotard eagerly. "If only I had ten thousand +dollars I could make my fortune. But I am old now. My little daughter +has gone to New York to play for me. You did not know that, Simon, did +you?" he added, looking at him with a cunning leer. + +"She cannot play as well as you, Charles," said Leroux. "You have +played so long, you know; you have the system at your fingers' ends. +There is nobody who could stand up against you. Do you remember Louis +Street and the fine people who were your friends? How they will +welcome you! You could become a man of fashion again, in spite of your +long exile in these solitudes. Do you recollect the races, where +thousands can be won in a few minutes, when your horse romps home by a +neck? And the gaming-tables, where a thousand dollars is but a pinch +of dust, and the bright lights and the chink of money--and you winning +it all away? You can have horses and carriages again, and all houses +will be open to you, for your little error has long ago been forgotten. +And you are not an old man, Charles." + +"Yes, yes, Simon!" cried the old man, fascinated by the picture. "It +is worth it--by gracious, it is!" + +Jacqueline swung round on Leroux. I saw her fists clench and her +bruised lip quiver. + +"Never, Simon Leroux!" she said. "And, what is more, my father is not +competent to transfer his property, and I will fight you through every +court in the land." + +"I was coming to you, _madame_," sneered Simon. "I don't know much +about the courts in this part of the country, but you will marry me to +save the life of your lover." + +"No!" she answered, setting her teeth. + +He seized her by the wrists and dragged her across the floor to me. + +"Look at him!" he yelled. "Look into his face. Will you marry me if I +let him go free?" + +"No!" answered Jacqueline. + +"I swear to you that he shall be thrown from the top of the cataract +unless you give your consent within five minutes." + +"Never!" she answered firmly. + +"I will denounce your father!" + +"You can't frighten me with such stuff. I am not a weak old man!" + +"You will think differently after Charles Duchaine has been hanged in +Quebec jail," he sneered. + +His words received a wholly unexpected answer. The dotard leaped +forward, stooped down, and picked up the heavy roulette-wheel. + +He raised it aloft and staggered wildly toward Leroux. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE HIDDEN CHAMBER + +Simon turned just in time. The wheel went crashing to the floor and +bounded and rebounded out of the room and along the little hall. +Philippe jumped in terror from the place where he crouched. + +And then the last strand broke, and I was free to slip the cords from +my limbs. + +"You old fool!" screamed Leroux, catching Duchaine by the wrists. But +Charles Duchaine possessed the strength of a madman. He grasped Leroux +round the waist and clung to him, and would not be shaken off. + +"Kill him!" he screamed. "He is a spy! He has come to betray me to +the government!" + +What followed was the work of a moment. I saw Jacqueline pull down +both broadswords from the wall. She flung one down beside me just as I +was staggering to my feet. + +Leroux shook off the old man at last. He turned on me. I swung the +sword aloft and brought it down upon his skull. + +Heaven knows I struck to kill; but my wrist was feeble from the ropes, +and the blade fell flat. It drew no blood, but Leroux dropped like a +stricken ox upon the floor. + +"This way!" gasped the old man. + +He pulled at Jacqueline's arm, and half led and half dragged her +through the open door behind his chair, I following. Lacroix sprang +into the room, called, but whether to us or to the other ruffians I did +not know. Leroux sat up and looked about him, dazed and bewildered. + +Then I was in the little room with Jacqueline and Duchaine, and he +turned and bolted the door behind us. He seemed possessed of all the +strength and decision of youth again. + +When I stood there before the room had been as dark as pitch, but now a +flicker of light was at the far end. A voice cried: + +"_M'sieur_! _M'sieur_! I have not forgotten thee!" + +It was Pierre Caribou. I saw his figure silhouetted against the light +of the flaring candle which he held in his hand. + +Duchaine had placed one arm about his daughter's waist, and was urging +her along. But she stopped and looked back to me. I saw she held one +broadsword in her hand, as I held the other. + +"Come, _monsieur_!" she gasped. + +But I was too mad with the desire to make an end of Leroux to accompany +her. I wanted to go back. I tried to find the bolt of the door in the +gloom, but while my fingers were fumbling for it Jacqueline came +running back to me. + +"Quick, or we are lost!" she cried. + +"I am going back," I answered, still fumbling for the holt Duchaine had +drawn. + +"No! We are safe inside. It is a secret room. My father made it in +the first days of his sojourn here in case he was pursued, and none but +Pierre and he know the secret. Ah, come, _monsieur_--come!" + +She clung to me desperately, and there was an intensity of entreaty in +her voice. + +I hesitated. There was no sound in the room without, and I believed +that the two ruffianly followers were ignorant of what had happened, +and had not dared to return after being driven away. + +But I meant to kill Leroux, and still felt for the bolt. + +As I fumbled there the door splintered suddenly, and Jacqueline cried +out. Through the hole I saw the oil-lamp shining in the outer room. + +The door splintered again. All at once I realized that Leroux was +firing his revolver at the panels. It was fortunate that we both stood +at one side, where the latch was. + +Then I yielded reluctantly to Jacqueline's soft violence. I followed +her through the dark chamber, under an archway of stone, and through a +winding passage in the rock. Pierre's candle flickered before us, and +in another moment we had squeezed through a narrow opening into a +chamber in the cliff. + +On the ground were five or six large stones, and Pierre began to fit +them into the aperture through which we had passed. In a minute the +place was completely sealed, and we four stood and looked breathlessly +at one another within what might have been a cenotaph. + +Not the slightest sound came from without. + +We were standing in a stone chamber, apparently of natural formation, +but finished with rough masonry work. It was about the size of a large +room, and I could see that it was only a widening of the tunnel itself, +which continued through a narrow exit at the farther end, running on +into the unknown depths of the cliff. + +From the freshness of the air I inferred that it connected with the +surface at no distant place. + +The entrance through which we had come had been made by blasting at +some period, or widened in this way, and then cemented, for the stones +which Pierre had fitted into it exactly filled it, so that it was +barely distinguishable from where I stood, and I am certain that it +would have required a prolonged scrutiny on the part of searchers on +the outside to enable them to detect it. + +And even then only dynamite or blasting-powder could have forced a +path, and it would have been exceedingly difficult to handle such +materials within the tunnel without blocking the approach completely, +while leaving open the farther exit. + +The chamber seemed at one time to have been prepared for such a +contingency as had occurred, for there were wool rugs on the stone +floor, though they had rotted and partly disintegrated from the +dampness. + +There were a table and wooden chairs, also partially decayed. The +mouldering fringes of some rugs protruded from a bundle wrapped in +oil-paper. + +Pierre Caribou opened this and shook them out on the ground. Except +where their edges had been exposed, they were in good condition, and +were thick enough to lie upon without much discomfort. + +The interior of the cave was pleasantly warm, though moist. + +"M. Duchaine, he make this place in case gov'ment come take him," +explained Pierre as he placed the rugs on the floor. "No can find, no +can break down stone door. Other way Simon not know--only m'sieur and +me. Old Caribou he come that way; he see you tied and know it time to +come here. Soon time to kill Simon come as well." + +"When in Heaven's name _will_ it come?" I cried. + +"Come soon. His _diable_ tell me," answered Pierre Caribou. + +The chamber was as silent as the grave, except for the gurgling of a +spring of water somewhere and the occasional pattering fall of a drop +of moisture from the roof. And truly this might prove our grave, I +thought, and none would find our bones in this heart of the cliff +through all the ages that would come. + +The flight seemed to have exhausted the last flicker of vitality in the +old man, for he sank down upon the blankets in a somnolent condition. +I could readily understand how his perpetual fear of discovery, +intensified through many years of solitude, had grown to be an +obsession, and how Leroux's idle threats had stimulated his weakened +will to one last effort to escape. + +Jacqueline knelt by his side. She paid no attention to me, except that +once she asked for water. Pierre brought her some from the spring in a +tin cup, and when she raised her head I could see that her lip was +swollen from the blow of Leroux's fist. + +The old man's hands were moving restlessly. Jacqueline bent over him +and whispered, and he stirred and cried out petulantly. He missed his +roulette-wheel, his constant companion through those years, his coins, +and paper. In his way perhaps he was suffering the most of all. + +"I go now," Pierre announced. "To-morrow I come for you, take all +through tunnel. You stay here till I come; all sleep till morning." + +"I will go with you, Pierre," I said, still under my obsession. But he +laid his heavy hand upon my arm and pushed me away. + +"You no kill Simon," he answered. "Why you no kill him again when you +have sword? Only _diable_ can kill him. When time come _diable_ tell +old Caribou. You sleep now. I not work for you now. I go for take my +woman and gal safe through tunnel to place I know. When my woman and +gal safe I come back to _m'sieur_ and _ma'm'selle_." + +It was a brave and simple declaration of first principles, and none the +less affecting, because it came from the lips of a faithful, ignorant +old man. It was just such simple loyalty that natures like Leroux's +never knew, frustrating the most cunning plans based on self-interest. + +I realized the strength of Pierre's argument. His duty lay first +toward his kin; then he would place his life at his master's service. +But he would have to cover many miles before he returned. + +He went without a backward glance; but I saw his throat heave, and I +knew what the parting meant to him. The feudal loyalty of the past was +all his faith. + +I flung myself down on my blanket. I was utterly exhausted, and with +that dead weariness which precludes sleep. The candle was burning low +and was guttering down upon one side, and a pool of hardening grease +was spreading over the table-top. + +I walked over to the table and blew it out. We must husband it; the +darkness in the cave would become unbearable without a candle to light. + +I lay down again. The silence was loneliness itself, and not rendered +less lonely by the occasional cries of the old man and the drip, drip +of water. I could not see anything, and Jacqueline might have been a +woman of stone, for she made not the least movement. + +But I felt her presence; I seemed to feel her thoughts, to live in her. + +At last I spoke to her. + +"Jacqueline!" + +I heard her start, and knew that she had raised her head and was +looking after me. I crawled toward her, dragging my blanket after me. +I felt in the darkness for the place where I knew her hand must be and +took it in mine. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "you know I did not steal your money, don't you?" + +"Forgive me, _monsieur_," I heard her whisper. + +"Forgive _me_, Jacqueline, for I have brought heavy trouble upon you. +But with God's aid I am going to save you both--your father and +you--and take you away somewhere where all the past can be forgotten." + +She sighed heavily, and I felt a tear drop on my hand. + +"Jacqueline!" I cried. + +"Ah, M. Hewlett"--the weariness of her voice went to my heart--"it +might have been different--if----" + +"If what, Jacqueline?" + +"If there had not been the blood of a dead man between us," she moaned. +"If--you--had not--killed him!" + +Her words were a revelation to me, for I learned that she had +mercifully been spared the full remembrance of what had happened in the +Tenth Street apartment. She thought that it was I who had killed Louis +d'Epernay. + +And how could I deny this, when to do so would be to bring to her mind +the knowledge of her own dreadful guilt? + +The dotard stirred and muttered, and she whispered to him and soothed +him as though he were a child. Presently he began to breathe heavily, +as old men breathe in sleep. But Jacqueline crouched there in the same +motionless silence, and I knew that she was awake and suffering. + +And then my watch began hammering again, just as the alarm-clock had +hammered on that awful night in my apartment when I crouched outside +the door, not daring to go in. My mind was working against my will and +picturing a thousand possibilities. + +What was Leroux doing? He would act with his usual hammer force. All +depended on Pierre. + +The hours wore away, and we three lay there, two waiting and one +dreaming of the old days of youth, no doubt. I tried to light the +candle to see the time, but my shaking hand sent it flying across the +cave, and when I searched for my matches, I found that the box was +empty. + +It seemed an eternity since we had come there. It is one thing to wait +for dawn and quite another thing to wait where dawn will never come. + +It must be day. And still Pierre did not come. As I lay there, +listening for his returning footsteps, I heard Jacqueline breathe at +last. + +She was asleep from weariness after her long night's watch. Somehow +the thought that she had passed into the world of dreams comforted me. +For a brief time the dreadful accusation of murder had been lifted from +my head, and my numbed mind was free to follow my will and leave its +mad career of fancy. I could act now. + +Why should I not follow where Pierre had led? If Leroux had captured +him within his hut, as seemed only too likely, he would never return, +and we should wait in vain. And with each hour of waiting our chances +to escape grew less. + +I resolved to follow the exit for a little distance to see whither it +led, and if I could discover the light of day. + +So I took my sword and sallied out through the passage in the cliff. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AT SWORDS' POINTS + +I entered the tunnel, sword in hand, keeping both arms stretched out to +feel my way. I resolved that I would always keep the left hand in +contact with the wall upon that side, so that, in case the tunnel +should divide, by reversing the process I could ensure my safe return. + +I had only proceeded a few steps when the air grew cold and sweet. And +before I had traversed two hundred yards I saw a dim light in the +distance. This was no candle light, but that of day. So I had endured +all those agonies of mind with the open air but a short distance away! + +As I advanced I fancied that I heard the soft pattering of feet behind +me. + +I halted and listened intently. I crouched against the wall and +waited. But I heard nothing now except the distant roaring of the +cataracts. How sweet they sounded now! + +I listened intently, leaning against the wall and facing backward, +holding my sword ready to meet any intruder. But there was no sound +from within, except the soughing which one hears in a tunnel; and +satisfied at last that I had been the victim of an over-wrought +imagination, I pursued my course. + +The light grew brighter, but very slowly, until all at once I saw what +seemed to be the gleam of an electric arc-light immediately ahead. It +dazzled and half blinded me. + +I started backward; and then the noble morning star disclosed herself, +swinging in the sky like a blazing jewel in a translucent sea. + +Before me was a projecting piece of rock, which had shut off the view, +and but for that warning star I must have gone to my death. For my +foot was slipping on ice--and I was clinging to the cliff-wall upon the +other side of the tiny platform, where I had stood with Pierre, and the +Old Angel thundered over me. + +And, instead of noon, as I had thought it to be, it was only dawn, and +the distant sky was banded with faint bars of yellow and gold, and the +fresh morning air was in my nostrils. + +I picked my way back, inch by inch, across the ice which coated the +rocky floor for a few yards within the tunnel, until I stood in safety +again. + +The full purport of this discovery now came to me, and it filled me +with frantic joy. For, since the cave connected with that platform +beneath the cataract, it was evident that by crossing the ledge, a +dangerous but not precarious feat, I should enter the main tunnel again +and come out eventually beyond the hills, even allowing for a +preliminary blunder into the wrong track. + +The greatest danger lay in the possibility of Leroux or his aids lying +in wait for me somewhere within the tunnel, and I had not much fear of +that, for I did not believe they suspected that our cave connected with +the main passage. It was more likely that they would wait in +Duchaine's room till hunger drove us out. + +So I started back to Jacqueline. But I had not gone six paces before I +heard a scream that still rings in my ears to-day, and a shadow sprang +out of the darkness and rushed at me. It was old Charles Duchaine. +His white hair streamed behind him; his face bore an expression of +indelible horror and rage, and in his hand he held the other sword. + +With a madman's proverbial cunning he had pretended to be asleep; then +he must have followed me stealthily as I made my journey of +exploration; and now, doubtless, he ascribed all his wrongs and +sufferings to me and meant to kill me. + +His fears had snapped the last frail link that bound him to the world +of sense. + +He struck at me, a great sweeping blow which would almost have cut me +in two. I had just time to parry it, and then he was upon me, raining +blows upon my out-stretched sword. He was no swordsman, but slashed +and hewed in frenzy, and the steel rang on steel, and the rust from the +blades filled my nostrils with its sting. + +But, though his attack was wild, the vigor of his blows almost beat +down my guard. At last a random blow of mine swept the weapon from his +feeble old hand and sent it whirling down the cataract into the lake +below. + +Then he was at my throat, and it was fortunate that there was firm rock +instead of slippery ice beneath us, or we should both have followed the +sword. + +He linked his arms around me and wrestled furiously, and his weight and +height so much surpassed my own that they compensated for his weakness. +We swayed backward and forward, and the star dipped and swung over us, +as though we stood upon the deck of a rolling ship. + +"Calm yourself, for Heaven's sake, _monsieur_!" I gasped as I gained a +momentary advantage over him. "Don't you know me? I am your friend. +I want to save you!" + +But he was at me again, trying to lock his hands about my throat; and, +even after I had controlled him and pinned his arms to his sides, he +fought like a fiend, and never ceased to yell. On either hand the +rocks and tunnel gave back his howls with hideous echoes that rolled +into the distance as though a hundred demons were at strife. + +"You shall not take me! I have done nothing! It was years ago! Let +me go! Let me go!" he screamed. + +I released him for a moment, hoping that his disordered brain would +calm enough for him to recognize me, and that, when he saw my motives +were peaceful, he would grow quiet. + +But suddenly, with a final howl, he sprang past me, Sweeping me against +the wall, and leaped out on the ledge. + +I held my breath. I expected to see him stagger to his death below. +But he stood motionless in the middle of the little platform and +stretched out his arms toward the raging torrent, as though in +invocation. Then he leaped across with the agility of a wild sheep and +rushed on into the tunnel beyond. + +I drew my breath thickly and leaned against the wall, overcome with +nausea. The physical shock of the struggle was, however, less +appalling than the thought of Jacqueline. + +I had no hope that the old man would ever return, or that his crazed +brain remembered the way home to the cave. He would wander on through +the tunnels, either to perish in them miserably, or to emerge at last +into the snow beyond and die there. + +Unless Leroux found him. + +I started back, keeping this time to the right side of the tunnel, +until I heard the gurgling of the brook. Then I heard Jacqueline's +footstep. + +"Who is it?" she called wildly. "M. Hewlett! My father!" + +I caught her as she swayed toward me. "He has gone, Jacqueline," I +said. "I went into the tunnel to try to find the way. He had been +feigning sleep, and he crept after me. I tried to stop him. He was so +frightened that I thought it best to let him go. He ran on into the +tunnel----" + +"We must find him," she said. + +"He will come back, Jacqueline." + +"He will never come back!" she answered. "He must have been planning +this and waiting for me to sleep. For years he brooded over his +danger, suspecting everybody, and the shock of last night unhinged his +mind. He may be hiding somewhere. We must search for him." + +"Let us go, then, Jacqueline," I answered. + +In fact, there seemed to be no use in remaining any longer. If Pierre +were on his way back, we ought to meet him in the tunnel; and if he had +been captured, delay spelled ruin. + +So I led her back into the tunnel on what was to be, I hoped, our final +journey. We reached the ledge. The star had faded now, and the whole +sky was bright with the red clouds of dawn. + +Very cautiously we picked our way across the platform, clinging to the +wall. It was a hideous journey over the slippery ice, beneath the +thunder of the cataract; and when at length we reached the tunnel on +the other side, I was shaking like a man with a palsy. + +But, thank God, that nightmare was past. And with renewed confidence I +went on through the darkness, with Jacqueline at my side, feeling my +way by the deeper depression in the ground along the centre of the +tubular passage. + +At length I saw daylight ahead of me--and there was no sound of the +torrents. + +Fortune had led us where I had wanted her to lead--into the open space +where the gold was. From there I knew that I could strike the passage +which led into the sleigh road under the hills. Half an hour's travel +ought to bring us to the rocking stone at the entrance, and safety. + +But I found that I had entered the mine from a third point, and that +some forty feet away from the place where I had emerged before. This +time we were inside the cave in which Leroux and Lacroix had piled the +sacks of earth. + +I was looking out beyond them toward the rivulet, and on my right hand +and on my left the tunnel stretched away, leading respectively toward +the _château_ and to the rocking stone at the entrance. + +I left Jacqueline in the cave for a few moments and went into the +smaller one near by, where I had seen the provisions on the preceding +day. I found a small box of hard biscuit, with which I stuffed the +pockets of my coat, and, happier still, a small revolver and some +cartridges, to which I helped myself liberally. + +Then I went back to Jacqueline. + +We must go on. Half an hour more should see us outside the tunnel +beyond the mountains. And this was the day on which Père Antoine would +be expecting me. + +It seemed incredible that so much could have happened in +four-and-twenty hours. + +But there was no sign of Charles Duchaine. And I did not intend to +jeopardize our future for the sake of the crazed old man. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "let us go on. Perhaps your father is on his way +outside the tunnel." + +She shook her head. "We must find him first," she answered. + +"But that is impossible," I protested. "How can we go wandering among +these dark passages when we do not know where he has gone? You know he +is invaluable to Leroux, and he will come to no harm with him. If we +get free, we can return with aid and rescue him." + +"We cannot go without my father," she answered, shaking her head in +determination. + +"But----" + +"Oh, don't you see that we _must_ find him?" she cried wildly. "But +_you_ must go. You cannot be burdened with me. Give up your hopeless +mission to rescue us, _monsieur_, and save yourself!" + +At that my hopes, which had been so high, went crashing down. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "if we can find your father you will come with +me? Because it has occurred to me," I went on, "that if he had come +this way, his footprints would be in the mud beside the stream. It +would take an hour or two for them to fill up again. So, perhaps, he +did not come this far, but is hiding in some cave in the tunnel through +which we came. Will you wait for me here while I go back and search?" + +She nodded, and I went back into that interminable tunnel again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BAIT THAT LURED + +I went along the tunnel in the direction of _le Vieil Ange_. It was +broad day now, and the distance between the cataract and the open +ground where the gold had been mined was sufficiently short for the +whole length of the passage to be faintly visible. + +It was a reach of deep twilight, brightening into sunlight at either +end. + +I picked my way carefully, peering into the numerous small caves and +fissures in the wall on either hand. And I was about half-way through +when I saw a shadow running in front of me and making no sound. + +It was Duchaine. There could be no mistaking that tall, gaunt figure, +just visible against the distant day. + +He was running in his bare feet and, therefore, in complete silence, +and he leaped across the rocky floor as though he wore moccasins. + +I raced along the tunnel after him. But he seemed to be endowed with +the speed of a deer, for he kept his distance easily, and I would never +have caught him had he not stopped for an instant at the approach of +the ledge. + +There, just as he was poising himself to leap, I seized him by the arm. + +"M. Duchaine! M. Duchaine! Stop!" I implored him. "Don't you know +that I am your friend and only wish you well? I am your friend--your +daughter Jacqueline's friend. I want to save you!" + +He did not attempt violence, but gazed at me with hesitation and +pathetic doubt. + +"They want to catch me," he muttered. "They want to hang me. He has +got a gallows ready for me to swing on, because I killed a soldier in +the Fenian raids. But it wasn't I," he added with sudden cunning. "It +was my brother, who looks like me. He died long ago. Let me go, +_monsieur_. I am a poor, harmless old man. I shall not hurt anybody." + +I took his hand in mine. + +"M. Duchaine," I answered. "I wish you everything that is best in the +world. I am your friend; I want to save you, not to capture you. Come +back with me, _monsieur_, and I will take you away----" + +The wild look came into his eyes again. + +"No, no!" he screamed, trying to wrest himself from my grasp and +measuring the distance across the ledge with his eye. "I will not go +away. This is my home. I want to live here in peace. I want my +wheel! Monsieur, give me my wheel. I have perfected a system. +Listen!" He took me by the arm and spoke in that cunning madman's way: +"I will make your fortune if you will let me go free. You shall have +millions. We will go to Quebec together and play at the tables, as I +did when I was a young man. My system cannot fail!" + +"M. Duchaine," I pleaded, "won't you come back with me and let us talk +it over? Jacqueline is with me----" + +"No, no," he cried, laughing. "You can't catch me with such a trick as +that. My little daughter has gone to New York to make our fortunes at +M. Daly's gaming-house. She will be back soon, loaded down with gold." + +I saw an opening here. + +"She _has_ come back," I answered. "She is not fifty yards away." + +"With gold?" he inquired, looking at me doubtfully. + +"With gold," I answered, trying to allure his imagination as Leroux had +done. "She has rich gold, red gold, such as you will love. You can +take up the coins in your fingers and let the gold stream slip through +them. Come with me, _monsieur_." + +He hesitated and looked back into the darkness. + +"I am afraid!" he exclaimed. "Listen, _monsieur_! There is a man +hiding there--a man with a sword. He tried to capture me to-day. But +I was too clever for him." He laughed with senile glee and rubbed his +hands together. "I was too clever for him," he chuckled. "No, no, +_monsieur_, I do not know who you are, but I am not going into that +tunnel alone with you. Perhaps you have a gallows there." + +"Do you not want the gold, _monsieur_?" I cried in exasperation. "Do +you not want to see the gold that your daughter Jacqueline has brought +back from New York for you?" + +I grasped him by the arm and tried to lead him with me. My argument +had moved him; cupidity had banished for the moment the dreadful +picture of the gallows that he had conjured up. I thought I had won +him. + +But just as I started back into the tunnel, holding the arm of the old +man, who lingered reluctantly and yet began to yield, a pebble leaped +from the rocky platform and rebounded from the cliff. I cast a +backward glance, and there upon the opposite side I saw Leroux standing. + +There was something appalling in the man's presence there. I think it +was his unchanging and implacable pursuit that for the moment daunted +me. And this was symbolized in his fur coat, which he wore open in the +front exactly as he had worn it that day when we met in the New York +store, and as I had always seen him wear it. + +He stood bareheaded, and his massive, lined, hard, weather-beaten face +might have been a sneering gargoyle's, carved out of granite on some +cathedral wall. + +He stood half sheltered by the projecting ledge, and his aspect so +fascinated me that I forgot my resolution to shoot to kill. + +"_Bonjour_, M. Hewlett," he called across the chasm. "Don't be afraid +of me any more than I am afraid of you. Just wait a moment. I want to +talk business." + +"I have no business to talk with you," I answered. + +"But I did not say it was with you, _monsieur_," he answered in +sneering tones. "It is with our friend, Duchaine. _Holà_, Duchaine!" + +At the sound of Leroux's voice the old man straightened himself and +began muttering and looking from the one to the other of us undecidedly. + +In vain I tried to drag him within the tunnel. He shook himself free +from me and sprang out on the icy ledge, and he poised himself there, +turning his head from side to side as either of us spoke. And he +effectively prevented me from shooting Leroux. + +"Don't you know your best friends, Duchaine?" inquired Leroux; and the +white beard was tipped toward the other side of the ledge. + +"I don't know who my friends are, Simon," answered Duchaine, in his +mild, melancholy voice. "What do you want?" + +"Why, I want you, Charles, my old friend," replied Leroux in a voice +expressive of surprize. "You old fool, do you want to die? If you do, +go with that gentleman. He comes from Quebec on government business." + +But I could plead better than that. I knew the symbol in his +imagination. + +"M. Duchaine! Come with me!" I cried. "He has a gallows ready for you +back in that tunnel!" + +It was a pitiful scheme, and yet for the life of me I could think of no +other way to win him. And, as it happened, the word associated itself +in the listener's mind as much with the speaker as with the man spoken +of, for I saw Duchaine start violently and cling to the icy wall. + +"No, no!" he cried; "I won't go with either of you. I am a poor old +man. It was my brother who shot the soldier, and he is dead. Go away!" + +He burst into senile tears and cowered there, surely the most pitiful +spectacle that fate ever made of a man. The memories of the past +thronged around him like avenging demons. + +Suddenly I saw him turn his head and fix his eyes upon Leroux. He +craned his neck forward; and then, very slowly, he began to walk toward +his persecutor. I craned my neck. + +Leroux was holding out--the roulette wheel! + +"Come along, Charles, my friend," he cried. "Come, let us try our +fortunes! Don't you want to stake some money upon your system against +me?" + +The old figure leaped forward over the ledge, and in a moment Leroux +had grasped him and pulled him into the tunnel. + +I whipped my revolver out and sent shot after shot across the chasm. +The sound of the discharges echoed and re-echoed along the tunnel wall. + +But the projecting ledge of rock effectively screened Leroux--and +Duchaine as well, for in my passion I had been firing blindly, and but +for that I should undoubtedly have killed Jacqueline's father. + +The mocking laughter of Leroux came back to me in faint and far-away +reply. + +I saw the explanation of the man's presence now. He must have met +Duchaine that morning as the old man was flying or wandering aimlessly +along the tunnel. They had reached _le Vieil Ange_ together, and +Leroux had probably had little difficulty in inducing the witless old +man to take him back into the secret hiding-place. + +It was lucky that we had not been there when Leroux discovered it. We +must have crossed the ledge only a moment or two before them. + +I hastened back to Jacqueline, and encountered her in the passage just +where the light and darkness blended, standing with arms stretched out +against the wall to steady herself; and in her eyes was that look which +tells a man more surely than anything, I think, can, that a woman loves +him. + +"Oh, I thought you were dead!" she sobbed and fell into my arms. + +I held her tightly to support her, and I led her back to the gold cave. +In a few words I explained what had occurred. + +"Now, Jacqueline, you must let me guide you," I said. "Don't you see +that there is no chance for us unless we leave your father for the +present where he is and make our own escape? We can reach Père +Antoine's cabin soon after midday, and we can tell him your father is a +prisoner here. He would not come with us, Jacqueline, even if he were +here. + +"And if he did, he might escape us on the way and wander back into the +tunnels again. Leroux has no cause to harm him. Surely you see that, +dear? He needs him--he needs his signature to the deed which is to +give him your father's share of the seigniory. Just as he wants you, +Jacqueline. And he shall never have you, dear. So I shall not let you +go back, or he would get you in the end. Unless----" + +I stopped. But she knew what I had thought. + +"Unless I kill myself," she answered wildly. "That is the best way +out, Paul! I am fated to bring nothing but evil upon every one with +whom I come in contact. Ah, leave me, Paul, and let me meet my fate, +and save yourself!" + +Again I pleaded, and she did not respond. It was the safety of us two, +and her father's life assured, against a miserable fate for her, and I +knew not what for me, though I thought Leroux would give me little +shrift once I was in his power again. + +She was so silent that I thought I had convinced her. I urged her to +her feet. But suddenly I heard a stealthy footfall close at hand, +between the cave and the cataract. + +I thought it was Charles Duchaine. I hoped it was Leroux. I placed my +finger on Jacqueline's lips and crept stealthily to the passage, +revolver in hand. + +Then, in the gloom, I saw the villainous face of Jean Petitjean looking +into mine, twelve paces away, and in his hand was a revolver, too. + +We fired together. But the surprize spoiled his aim, for his bullet +whistled past me. I think my shot struck him somewhere, for he uttered +a yell and began running back along the tunnel as hard as he could. + +I followed him, firing as fast as I could reload. But there was a +slight bend in the passage here, and my bullets only struck the walls. +So fortune helped the ruffian, for when I reached the light he was +scrambling across the ledge, and before I could cover him he had +succeeded in disappearing behind the projecting rock on the other side. + +So Leroux had already sealed one exit--that by the Old Angel, where the +road led into the main passage. God grant that he had not time to +reach the exit by the mine! + +If I made haste! If I made haste! But I would not argue the matter +any further. I ran back at full speed. I reached the cave. + +"Jacqueline! Come, come!" I called. + +She did not answer. + +I ran forward, peering round me in the obscurity. I saw her near the +earth-sacks, lying upon her side. Her eyes were closed, her face as +white as a dead woman's. + +White--but her dress was blood-soaked, and there was blood on the sacks +and on the stony floor. It oozed from her side, and her hand was cold +as the rocks, and there was no flutter at her wrist. + +The bullet from Jean Petitjean's revolver that missed me must have +penetrated her body. + +She lived, for her breast stirred, though so faintly that it seemed as +though all that remained of life were concentrated in the +faint-throbbing heart-beats. + +I raised her in my arms and placed a sack beneath her head, making a +resting-place for her with my fur coat. Then with my knife I cut away +her dress over the wound. + +There was a bullet-hole beneath her breast, stained with dark blood. I +ran down to the rivulet, risking an ambuscade, brought back cold water, +and washed it, and stanched the flow as best I could, making a bandage +and placing it above the wound. + +It was a poor effort at first aid, by one who had never seen a +bullet-wound before, and I was distracted with misery and grief, and +yet I remember how steady my hands were and with what precision and +care I performed my task. + +I have a dim remembrance of losing my self-control when this was done, +and clasping her in my arms and pressing my lips to her cold cheek and +begging her to live and praying wildly that she should not die. Then I +raised her in my arms and was staggering across the cave toward the +tunnel which led to the rocking stone. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +SURRENDER + +I saw the light, the sun's rays bright on the cliff tops. Once in the +tunnel beyond that I could keep my pursuers at bay with my revolver, +even if I had to fight every inch of my way to freedom. + +And then, just as I approached the barricade of earth-filled bags, +Leroux and the man Raoul emerged from the tunnel's mouth and ran toward +me. + +If I had been alone and unencumbered, I believe I could have spurted +across the open and won free. But with Jacqueline in my arms it was +impossible. + +I stopped behind the barricade. + +Even so I was fortunate, for had they gained the cave before I did they +would have had me at their mercy like a rat trapped in a hole. + +They saw me and drew back hastily within the tunnel's mouth. I was +panting with the weight of my unconscious burden, and I did not know +what to do. My mind was filled with rage against my fate, and I +shouted curses at them and strode up and down, behind the bags. + +Presently I saw something white fluttering from the tunnel. It was a +white handkerchief upon a stick of wood, and slowly and gingerly Raoul +emerged into the open. + +At that instant I fired. The bullet whipped past his face, and with an +oath he dropped the stick and handkerchief too, and scuttled back to +shelter. + +Then Leroux's voice hailed me from the tunnel. + +"Hewlett!" he called, and there was no trace of mockery in his tones +now, "will you come out and talk with me? Will you meet me in the +open, if you prefer?" + +I fired another shot in futile rage. It struck the cliff and sent a +stone flying into the stream. + +Then silence followed. And I took Jacqueline and carried her back into +the little hollow place. I put my hand upon her breast. + +It stirred. She breathed faintly, though she showed no sign of +consciousness. + +And then I acted as a trapped animal would act. I raged up and down +the tunnel from cataract to cave, and at each end I fired wildly, +though there was no sign of any guard. Why should their guards expose +themselves to fire at me when they had me at their mercy? + +They could surprize me from either end, and I suppose I thought by this +trick to maintain the illusion of having some companion. Heaven knows +what was in my mind. But now I stood beneath that awful cataract +firing at the blind rock, and now I was back behind the earth-bags +shooting into the tunnel. + +And again I was at Jacqueline's side, crouching over her, holding her +hand in mine, pressing my lips to hers, imploring her to live for my +sake, or, if she could not live, to open her eyes once more and speak +to me. + +So the afternoon wore away. The sun had sunk behind the cliffs. I had +fired away all but six of my cartridges. Then the memory of my similar +act of folly before came home to me. I grew more calm. + +I understood Leroux's intentions--he meant to surprize me in the night +when I was worn out, or when I made a blind dash in the dark for the +tunnel. + +I felt my way around the cave with the faint hope that there might be +some other egress there. + +There was none, but I made out a recess which I had not perceived, +about one-half as large as the cave itself, and opening into it by a +small passage just large enough to give admittance to a single person. +Here I should have only one front to defend. + +So I carried Jacqueline inside and began laboriously to drag the bags +of earth into this last refuge. Before it had grown quite dark I had +barricaded Jacqueline and myself within a place the size of a hall +bedroom enclosed upon three sides with rock. + +And there I waited for the end. + +What an eternity that was! + +I strained my ears to hear approaching steps. I beard the gurgle of +the stream and the slow drip of water from the rocks, but nothing more. +The star-light was just bright enough to prevent an absolute surprize. + +But I was utterly fatigued. My eyes alone, which bore the burden of +the defence, remained awake; the rest of me was dead, from heavy hands +to feet, and the body which I could hardly have dragged down to the +stream again. + +I waited for the end. I sat beside Jacqueline, holding her hand with +one of mine, and my revolver in the other. There was a faint flutter +at her wrist. I fancied that it had grown stronger during the past +half-hour. + +But I was unprepared to hear her whisper to me, and when she spoke I +was alert in a moment. + +"Paul!" she said faintly. + +"Jacqueline!" + +"Paul! Bend down. I want to speak to you. Do you know I have been +conscious for a long time, my dear? I have been thinking. Are you +distressed because of me?" + +"My dear!" I said; and that was all that I could say. I clasped her +cold little hand tightly in mine. + +"I don't know whether I shall live, Paul," she went on. "But now +things have become much clearer than they were. When you wanted to +take me through the tunnel I knew that you were wrong. I knew that +even if we found my father I must still send you away, my dear. God +does not mean for us to be for one another. Don't you see why? It is +because there is the blood of a dead man between us that cannot be +wiped away. + +"That is the cause of our misfortunes here, and they will never end, +even if you can beat Leroux--because of that. So it could never have +been. Yes, I knew that last night when I lay by you, and I was +thinking of it and praying hard that I might see clearly." + +Her voice broke off from weakness, and for a long time she lay there, +and I clasped her hand and waited, and my eyes searched the space +beyond the bags. How long would they delay? + +Presently Jacqueline spoke again. + +"Do you know, Paul, I don't think life is such a good thing as it used +to seem," she said. "I think that I could bear a great deal that I +would once have thought impossible. I think I could yield to Leroux +and be his wife to save your life, Paul." + +"No, Jacqueline." + +"Yes, Paul. If I live, my duty is with my father. He needs me, and he +would never leave the _château_ now that his fears have grown so +strong. And, though he might come to no harm, I cannot leave him. And +you must leave me, Paul, because--because of what is between us. You +must go to Leroux and tell him so. You love me, Paul?" + +"Always, Jacqueline," I whispered. + +She put her arms about my neck. + +"I love you, Paul," she said. "It seems so easy to say it in the dark, +and it used to be so hard. And I want to tell you something. I have +always remembered a good deal more than you believed. Only it was so +dear, that comradeship of ours, that I would not let myself remember +anything except that I had you. + +"And do you know what I admired and loved you for, even when you +thought my mind unstable and empty? How true you were! It was that, +dear. It was your honour, Paul. + +"That was why, when I remembered everything that dreadful night in the +snow, the revulsion was so terrible. I ran away in horror. I could +not believe that it was true--and yet I knew it was true. + +"And Leroux was waiting there and found me. I did not want to leave +you, but he told me there was Père Antoine's cabin close by, and that +you would come to no harm. And he made me believe--you had stolen my +money as well. But I never believed that, and I only taunted you with +it to drive you away for your own sake." + +She drew me weakly toward her and went on: + +"Bend lower. Bend very near. Do you remember, Paul--in the train +going to Quebec--I lay awake all night and cried, at first for +happiness, to think you loved me, and then for shame, because I had no +right--though I did not remember who he was at the time, the shock had +been so great. That night--lying in my berth--I was shameless. I +slipped the wedding ring from my finger and hid it away so that you +should not know--because I loved you, Paul. And now that we are to +part forever, and perhaps I am to die, I can speak to you from my heart +and tell you, dear. Kiss me--as though I were your wife, Paul. + +"So you will go to Leroux?" she added presently. + +"Is that your will, Jacqueline?" + +"Yes, dear," she said. "Because we have fought and now we are beaten, +Paul." + +I bowed my head. I knew that she spoke the truth. Slowly the passions +cleared from my own heart--passion of hate, passion of love. I knew at +last that I was vanquished. For, now that Jacqueline lay there so +weak, so helpless, and thinking all our past was but a dream, there was +nothing but to yield. I could not fight any more. + +Even though, by some miracle, the tunnel lay clear before us, to move +her meant her death. So I would yield, to save her life, and with me +Leroux might deal as he chose. + +So I left her and climbed across the bags and went down toward the +stream. + +But before I had reached it a dark figure slipped from among the +shadows of the rocks and came toward me; and by the faint starlight I +saw the face of Pierre Caribou! + +I was bewildered, for Pierre seemed like one of those dream figures of +the past; he might have come into my life long ago, but not to-day, nor +yesterday. + +He stopped me and held me by both shoulders, and he drew me into the +recesses of the rocks and bent his wizened old face forward toward mine. + +"Ah, _monsieur_, so you did not obey old Pierre Caribou and stay in the +cave," he said. + +"Pierre, I did not know that you would return," I answered. "I thought +that we could find the same road that you had taken." + +"Never mind," the Indian answered, looking at me strangely. "All +finish now. _Diable_ take Leroux. His time come. _Diable_ show me!" + +"How?" I answered, startled. + +"All finish," said Pierre inexorably, and, as I watched him, a +superstitious fear crept over me. He, who had cringed, even when he +gave the command, now cringed no longer, and there was a look on his +old face that I had only seen on one man's before--on my father's, the +night he died. + +"Pierre, where is Leroux?" I whispered. + +"No matter," he answered. "All finish now." + +"Shall I surrender to him or shall I fight?" + +"No matter," he said once again. "_M'sieur_, suppose you go back to +ma'm'selle, and soon Simon come. His _diable_ lead him to you. His +_diable_ tell you what to say. All finish now!" + +He walked past me noiselessly, a tenuous shadow, and his bearing was as +proud as that of his race had been in the long ago, when they were +lords where their white masters ruled. He entered the passage at the +back of the mine, through which I had come when I encountered Lacroix +the first time with his gold. + +And as he passed I thought I saw Lacroix's face peering out at me +through the shadows of the caves. I started toward him. Then I saw +only the face of the cliff. My mind was playing me tricks; I thought +it had created that apparition out of my thoughts. + +I went back to Jacqueline and took my seat upon the earth-bag +barricade. I had my revolver in my hand, but it was not loaded. I +threw the cartridges upon the floor. + +It seemed only a few minutes before a voice hailed me from the tunnel. + +"M. Hewlett! Are you prepared to speak with M. Leroux?" + +It was Raoul's voice, and I answered yes. + +A moment later Leroux came from the tunnel toward me. I got down from +the barricade and met him at the stream. He stood upon one side and I +at the other, and the stream gurgled and played between us. + +"Paul Hewlett," said Leroux, "you have made a good fight. By God, you +have fought well! But you are done for. I offer you terms." + +"What terms?" I asked. + +"The same as before." + +"You planned to murder me," I answered, but with no bitterness. + +"Yes, that is true," answered Leroux. "But circumstances were +different then from what they are tonight. I am no murderer. I am a +man of business. And, within business limits, I keep my word. If I +proposed to break it, it was because I had no other way. Besides, you +had me in your power. Now you are in mine. + +"I thought then that you were in Carson's pay. That if I let you go +you would betray--certain things you might have discovered. But you +came here because you were infatuated with Mme. d'Epernay. Well, I can +afford to let you go; for, though my instincts cry out loudly for your +death, I am a business man, and I can suppress them when it has to be +done. In brief, M. Hewlett, you can go when you choose." + +"M. Leroux," I answered, "I will say something to you for your own +sake, and Mme. d'Epernay's, that I would not deign to say to any other +man. She is as pure as the best woman in the land. I found her +wandering in the street. I saved her from the assault of your hired +ruffians. I tried to procure a room for her at the Merrimac, and when +they refused her, I gave up my own apartment to her and went away." + +"But you went back!" he cried. "You went back, Hewlett!" + +"I can tell you no more," I answered. "Do you believe what I have said +to you?" + +He looked hard into my face. + +"Yes," he said simply. "And it makes all the difference in the world +to me." + +And at that moment, in spite of all, I felt something that was not far +from affection toward the man. + +"Père Antoine will marry you?" I asked. + +"Yes," he replied. + +"And her father?" + +"Is safe in the _château_, playing with his wheel and amassing a +fortune in his dreams." + +"One word more," I continued. "Mme. d'Epernay is very ill. She was +struck by one of those bullets that you fired through the door. Wait!" +for he had started. "I think that she will live. The wound cannot +have pierced a vital part. But we must be very gentle in moving her. +You had better bring the sleigh here, and you and I will lift her into +it. And then--I shall not see her again." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +LEROUX'S DIABLE + +I went back toward the cave. But I could not bring myself to see +Jacqueline. + +Instead, I paced the tunnel to and fro, wondering what my life was +going to be in future. Less than three weeks before no thought of love +had stirred me, and Jacqueline was undreamed of. Now she had entered +into my heart and twined herself inextricably around its roots. + +That I should love her till I died I did not doubt at all. + +Her last words had been in the nature of a farewell. There was no more +to say. Not even good-bye. I must go before that old, insatiable +longing for her arose in me again. + +I saw her in my mind's eyes as clearly as though she stood before me. +Her loving, gracious presence, her sweet, pure face, her courage, her +tenderness--all these were for Leroux. Nothing remained for me, except +my memories. + +I should have to make a great deal of my life. I had always believed +that life was only a prelude to greater and finer things. I was not +sure; I am not sure to-day; but if the life that is to come is not the +realization of our unfulfilled desires, then nothing matters here. I +was thinking of that as I paced the tunnel. And in that way I felt +that, in a measure, Jacqueline was still mine. + +"Everything that is free," she had said to me, "thoughts, will and +dreams." That part was mine; and that could never be taken away. + +I had reached the verge of the cataract and stood beside the little +platform, looking down. There was no star now like that which had +guided me in the morning, but the sky was fair and the air mild. I +gazed in awe at the great stream of water, sending its ceaseless +current down into the troubled lake below. + +How many ages it had done that! Yet even that must end some day, as +everything ends--even life, thank God! + +And then I saw Lacroix again. I was sure of it now. He was peering +after me from among the rocks, and, as I turned, he was scuttling away +into the tunnel. + +I followed him. I had always mistrusted the man; more, even, than +Leroux. I felt that his furtive presence there portended something +more evil than my own fate and Jacqueline's must be. + +I followed him hotly; but he must have known every fissure in the +cliff, for he vanished before my eyes, apparently through the solid +rock, and when I reached the place of his disappearance I could find no +sign of any passage there. + +Well, there was no use in following him further. I paced the tunnel +restlessly. The sleigh ought to be at the mine in five minutes more. +I turned back to take a last look at the cataract. + +The sublime grandeur of those thousand tons of water, shot from the +glacier's edge above, still held me in its spell of awe. I cast my +eyes toward the _château_ and over the frozen lake toward the distant, +unknown mountains. + +Then I turned resolutely away. + +And at that moment I heard Leroux's voice hailing me, and looked round +to see him emerge from the tunnel at my side. He was staring in +bewilderment at the cataract. + +"Hewlett, I don't know what possessed me to take the wrong turn +to-night!" he cried. "I have come through that tunnel a hundred times +and never missed the path before." + +He swung round petulantly, and at that moment a shadow glided out of +the darkness and stood in front of him. It was Pierre Caribou, lean, +sinewy and old. He blocked the path and faced Leroux in silence. + +Leroux looked at him, and an oath broke from his lips as he read the +other's purpose upon his face. Squaring his mighty shoulders and +clenching his fists, he leaped at him headlong. + +Pierre stepped quietly aside, and Simon measured his full length within +the tunnel. But, when he had scrambled to his feet with a bellowing +challenge, Pierre was in front of him again. + +"What are you here for?" roared Leroux, but in a quavering voice that +did not sound like his own. "Get out of the way or I'll smash your +face!" + +The Indian still blocked the passage. "Your time come now, Simon. All +finish now," he answered. + +Simon drew back a pace and watched him, and I heard him breathing like +one who has run a race. + +"You come here one, two year ago," Pierre continued. "You eat up home +of M. Duchaine, my master. Old M. Duchaine my master, too. I belong +here. You eat up all, come back, eat up some more. Then you sell +Mlle. Jacqueline to Louis d'Epernay. You made her run 'way to New +York. I ask your _diable_ when your time come. Your _diable_ he say +wait. I wait. Mlle. Jacqueline come back. I ask your _diable_ again. +He say wait some more. Now your _diable_ tell me he send you here +to-night because your time come, and all finish now." + +The face that Simon turned on me was not in the least like his own. It +was that of a hopeless man who knows that everything he had prized is +lost. He had never cowered before anyone in his life, I think, but he +cowered now before Pierre Caribou. + +"Hewlett!" he cried in a high-pitched, quavering voice, "help me throw +this old fool out of the way." + +I spoke to Pierre. "Our quarrel is at an end," I said. "I am going +away. You must go, too." + +Pierre Caribou did not relax an inch of ground. + +Then a roar burst from Leroux's lips, and he flung himself upon the +Indian in the same desperate way as I had experienced, and in an +instant the two men were struggling at the edge of the platform. + +It was impossible for me to intervene, and I could only stand by and +stare in horror. And, as I stared, I saw the face of Lacroix among the +rocks again, peering out, with an evil smile upon his lips. + +Whether they fought in silence or whether in sound I do not know, for +the noise of the cataract rendered the battle a dumb pantomime. + +Pierre had pulled the Frenchman out to the middle of the ledge and was +trying to force him over. But Leroux was clinging with one hand to the +cliff and with the other he beat savagely upon his enemy's face, so +that the blood covered both of them. But Pierre did not seem to feel +the blows. + +Leroux, one-handed, was at a disadvantage. He grasped his antagonist +again, and the death-grapple began. + +It was a marvel that they could engage in so terrific a fight upon the +ice-coated ledge and hold their balance there. But I saw that they +were in equipoise, for they were bending all the tension of each muscle +to the fight, so that they remained almost motionless, and, thigh to +thigh, arm to arm, breast to breast, each sought to break the other's +strength. And I saw that, when one was broken, he would not yield +slowly, but, having spent the last of his strength, would collapse like +a crumpled cardboard figure and go down into the boiling lake. + +The cataract's half-sphere of crystal clearness framed them as though +they formed some dreadful picture. + +They bent and swayed, and now Leroux was forcing Pierre's head and +shoulders backward by the weight of his bull's body. But the Indian's +sinews, toughened by years of toil to steel, held fast; and just as +Leroux, confident of victory, shifted his feet and inclined forward, +Pierre changed his grasp and caught him by the throat. + +Leroux's face blackened and his eyes started out. His great chest +heaved, and he tore impotently at his enemy's strong fingers that were +shutting out air and light and consciousness. They rocked and swayed; +then, with a last convulsive effort, Leroux swung Pierre off his feet, +raised him high in the air, and tried to dash his body against the +projecting rock at the tunnel's mouth. + +But still the Indian's fingers held, and as his consciousness began to +fade Leroux staggered and slipped; and with a neighing whine that burst +from his constricted throat, a shriek that pierced the torrent's roar, +he slid down the cataract, Pierre locked in his arms. + +I cried out in horror, but leaned forward, fascinated by the dreadful +spectacle. I saw the bodies glide down the straight jet of water, as a +boy might slide down a column of steel, and plunge into the black +cauldron beneath, around whose edge stood the mocking and fantastic +figures of ice. The seething lake tossed them high into the air, and +the second cataract caught them and flung them back toward the Old +Angel. + +Their waters played with them and spun them round, caught them, and let +them go, and roared and foamed about them as they bobbed and danced +their devil's jig, waist-high, in one another's arms. + +At last they slid down into the depths of the dark lake, to lie forever +there in that embrace. And still the cataracts played on, sounding +their loud, triumphant, never-ending tune. + +I was running down the tunnel again. I was running to Jacqueline, but +something diverted me. It was the face of Lacroix, peering at me from +among the crevices of the rocks with the same evil smile. I knew from +the look on it that he had seen all and had been infinitely pleased +thereby. + +I caught at him; I wanted to get my hands on him and strangle him, too, +and fling him down, and stamp his features out of human semblance. But +he eluded me and darted back into the cliff. + +I followed him hard. This time I did not mean to let him go. + +Lacroix was running toward the gold-mine. He made no effort to dodge +into any of the unknown recesses of the caves, but ran at full speed +across the open space and plunged into the tunnel leading to the shore +by the _château_. + +I caught him near the entrance and held him fast. + +He struggled in my grasp and screamed. + +"Go back! For the love of God, go back, _monsieur_!" he shrieked. +"Let me go! Let me go!" + +He fought so desperately that he slipped out of my hands and darted +into the mine again, taking the tunnel which led toward the Old Angel, +and thence wound back toward the _château_. + +I caught him again before the cave where Jacqueline lay. I wound my +arms around him. A dreadful suspicion was creeping into my mind. + +He made no attempt to fight me, but only to escape, and his face was +hideously stamped with fear. + +"Let me go!" he howled. "Ah, you will repent it! _Monsieur_, let me +go! I will give you a half-share in the gold. What do you want with +me?" + +What did I want? I did not know. It must have been the same instinct +that leads one to stamp upon a noxious insect. I think it was his joy +in the hideous spectacle beneath the cataract that had made me long to +kill him. + +But now a dreadful fear was dawning on me. + +"Jacqueline!" I screamed. + +"I have not seen her," he replied. "Now let me go! Ah, _mon Dieu_, +will you never let me go? It is too late!" + +Suddenly he grew calm. + +"It is too late," he said in a monotonous voice, "You have killed both +of us!" + +And, with the sweat still on his forehead, he stood looking maliciously +at me. + +"If you had let me go," he said, "you would have died just as you are +going to die." + +I saw the face of the cliff quiver; I saw an immense rock, half-way up, +leap into the air and seem to hang there; then the ground was upheaved +beneath my feet, and with a frightful roar the rocky walls swayed and +fell together. + +And the rivulet became a cataract that surged over me and filled my +ears with tumult and sealed my eyes with sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +FULL CONFESSION + +Darkness impenetrable about me, and a thick air that I breathed with +great gasps that hardly brought relief to my choking throat. And a +voice out of the darkness crying ceaselessly in my ears: + +"Help me! Help me!" + +In that nightmare I saw again those awful scenes as vividly as though +they had been etched in phosphorus before my eyes. I saw the last +struggle of Pierre and Leroux, and I pursued Lacroix along the tunnel. +I saw the cliff toppling forward, and the rock poised in mid-air. + +And the voice cried: "Help me! Help me!" and never ceased. + +I raised myself and tried to struggle to my feet. I found that I could +move my limbs freely, I tried to rise upon my knees, but the roof +struck my head. I stretched my arms out, and I touched the wall on +either side of me. + +I must have been stunned by the concussion of the landslide. By a +miracle I had not been struck. + +"Help me! Help me!" + +I tried to find the voice. I crawled three feet toward it, and the +wall stopped me. But the voice was there. It came from under the +wall. I felt about me in the darkness, and my hand touched something +damp. I whipped it back in horror. It was the face of a man. + +There was only the face. Where the body and limbs ought to have been +was only rock. The face was on my side of a wall of rock, pinning down +the body that lay outstretched beyond. + +I recognized the voice now. It was that of Philippe Lacroix. + +"Ah, _mon Dieu_! Help me! Help me!" + +He continued to repeat the words in every conceivable tone, and his +suffering was pitiable. I forgot my own troubles as I tried to aid +him. All my efforts were vain. There were tons of rock above him, and +under the inch or two of space where the rock rested above the ground I +felt the edge of a burlap bag. + +He had been pinned beneath the bags of earth and gold which he had +prized so dearly; the golden rocks were grinding out his life. He was +dying--and he could not take his treasures to that place to which he +must go. + +I felt one hand come through the tiny opening in the wall and grasp at +me. + +"Who is it?" he mumbled. "Is that you, Hewlett? For God's sake, kill +me!" + +I crouched beside him, but I did not know what to say or do. I could +only wait there, that he might not die alone. + +"Give me a knife!" he mumbled again, clutching at me. "A knife, +Hewlett! Don't leave me to die like this! Bring Père Antoine and my +mother. I want to tell her--to tell her----" + +He muttered in his delirium until his voice died away. I thought that +he would never speak again. But presently he seemed to revive again to +the consciousness of his surroundings. + +"Are you with me, Hewlett?" he whispered. + +I placed my hand in his, and he clutched at it with feverish force. + +"You will have the gold, Hewlett," he muttered, apparently ignorant +that I, too, was a prisoner and in hardly better plight. "You are the +last of the four. I tried to kill you, Hewlett." + +I said nothing, and he repeated querulously, between his gasps: "I +tried to kill you, Hewlett. Are you going to leave me to die alone in +the dark now?" + +"No," I answered. "It doesn't matter, Lacroix." And, really, it did +not matter. + +"I wanted to kill you," his voice rambled on. "Leroux is dead. I +watched him die. I thought if--you died, too, no one but I would know +the secret of the gold. I tried to murder you. I blew up the tunnel!" + +He paused a while, and again I thought he was dying, but once more he +took up the confession. + +"There was nearly a quarter of a ton of blasting powder and dynamite in +the cave. You didn't know. You went about so blindly, Hewlett. I +watched you when I talked with you that night here. How long ago it +must have been! When was that?" + +I did not tell him it was yesterday. For it seemed immeasurably long +ago to me as well. + +"It was stored there," he said. "We had brought it up from St. +Boniface by sleigh--so carefully. Leroux intended to begin mining as +soon as Louis returned. And when he died I meant to kill you both, so +that the gold should all be mine. I told you it was here because I +thought you meant to kill me, but I meant to kill you when you had made +an end of Leroux. And you killed me. Damn you!" he snarled. "Why did +you not let me go?" + +He paused, and I heard him gasp for breath. His fingers clutched at my +coat-sleeve again and hooped themselves round mine like claws of steel. + +"I had a knife--once," he resumed, relapsing into his delirium; "but I +left it behind me and the police got it. Isn't it odd, Leroux," he +rambled on, "that one always leaves something behind when one has +killed a man? But the newspapers made no mention about the knife. You +didn't know he was dead, did you, Leroux, for all your cleverness, +until that fool Hewlett left that paper upon the table? You knew +enough to send me to jail, but you didn't know that it was I who killed +him. Help me!" He screamed horribly. "He is here, looking at me!" + +"There is nobody here, Philippe," I said, trying to soothe his agony of +soul. What a poor and stained soul it was, travelling into the next +world alone! "There is nobody but me, Philippe!" + +"You lie!" he raved. "Louis is here! He has come for me! Give me +your knife, Hewlett. It is for him, not for me. He deserved to die. +He tricked me after we had found the gold. He tricked me twice. He +told Leroux, thinking that he would win his gratitude and get free from +the man's power. And the second time he told Carson." + +My heart was thumping as he spoke. I hardly dared to hope his words +were true. + +"He was my friend," he mumbled. "We were friends since we were boys. +We would have kicked Leroux into the street if he had dared to enter +our homes. But we owed so much money. And he discovered--what we had +done. He wanted our family interest; he wanted to make use of us. And +when we found the mine, Louis thought we would never be in need of +money again. But Leroux was pressing him, threatening him. And so he +told him. Then there were three of us in the secret. + +"Leroux had formed a lumber company with Carson, but he did not tell +him about the gold. He formed his scheme with Louis. They said +nothing to me; they wanted to leave me out. Louis was to get the girl +and sell his rights to Simon. But afterward, when he had spent the +money Simon had given him, he thought he could get more out of Carson. +So he went to him and told the secret. That made four of us--four of +us, where there should have been only two." + +"What did you do?" I asked, though it was like conducting a postmortem +upon a murderer's corpse. + +"I went to New York to get my share. I wasn't going to be ousted, I, +who had been one of the discoverers. I don't know how much Carson paid +Louis, but I meant to demand half. I thought he had the money in his +pocket. + +"I followed him all that afternoon after he had left Carson's office. +I watched him in the street. At night he went to a room somewhere--at +the top of a tall building. I followed him. When I got in I found a +woman there. Louis was talking to her and threatening her. He said +she was his wife. How could she be his wife when he had married +Jacqueline Duchaine? + +"I didn't care--it was no business of mine. I couldn't see them, +because there was a curtain in the way. There was no light in the +bedroom. There was a light in the room in which I was. I put it out, +so that neither of them should see my face. She might have betrayed +me, you know, Simon. + +"He spun round when the light went out, and pushed the curtain aside. +I was waiting for that. I had calculated my blow. I stabbed him. It +was a good blow, though it was delivered in the dark. He only cried +out once. But the woman screamed, and a dog flew at me, and I couldn't +find his money. So I ran away. + +"And then there were only three of us who knew the secret. Then Simon +died and there were only two, and now there are only Hewlett and I, and +he is dead, poor fool, and I have my gold here. For God's sake give me +a knife, Simon!" + +His fingers tore at my sleeve in his last agony, and I was tempted +sorely. And it was his own knife that I had. The irony of it! + +He muttered once or twice and cried out in fear of the man whom he had +slain. I heard him gasp a little later. Then the hand fell from my +sleeve. And after that there was no further sound. + + +"Paul!" + +It was the merest whisper from the wall. I thought it was a trick of +my own mind. I dared not hope. + +"Paul! Dearest!" + +This was no fancy born of a delirious brain and the thick fumes of +dynamite. It came from the wall a little way ahead of me. I crawled +the three feet that the little cave afforded and put my hands upon the +rock, feeling its surface inch by inch. There was a crevice there, not +large enough to have permitted a bird to pass--the merest fissure. + +"Jacqueline! Is that you, dear?" I called. + +"Where are you, Paul?" she whispered back. + +"Behind the wall," I answered. "You are not hurt, Jacqueline?" + +"I am lying where you left me, dear. Paul, I--I heard." + +"You heard?" I answered dully. What did it matter now? + +"Why didn't you tell me, Paul? But never mind. I am so glad, dearest! +Can you come through to me?" + +I struggled to tear the rocks away; I beat and bruised my hands in vain +against them. + +"Soon," I muttered. "Soon. Can you breathe well, Jacqueline?" + +"It is all open, Paul. It is nearly dawn now." + +"I will come when it grows light, Jacqueline," I babbled. "When it +grows light!" + +She did not know that it would never grow light for me. Again I flung +myself against the walls of my prison, battering at them till the blood +dripped from my hands. Again and again I flung myself down hopelessly, +and then I tried again, clutching at every fragment that protruded into +the cave. + +And at last, when my despair had mastered me--it grew light. + +For a sunbeam shot like a finger through the crevice and quivered upon +the floor of the cave. And overhead, where I had never thought to +seek, where I had thought three hundred feet of eternal rock pressed +down on me, I saw the quiver of day through half a dozen feet of +tight-packed débris from the glacier's mouth. + +I raised myself and tore at it and sent it flying. I thrust my hands +among the stones and tore them down like the tiles from a rotten roof. + +I heard a shout; hands were reached down to me and pulled me up, and I +was on my feet upon a hillside, looking into the keen eyes of Père +Antoine and the face of the Indian squaw. + +And the Eskimo dog was barking at my side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE END OF THE CHÂTEAU + +Only one thing marred the happiness of our reunion, and that was the +loss of Jacqueline's father. + +We had talked much over what had happened, and ten days later, when +Jacqueline had recovered from the shock and from what proved to be, +after all, only a flesh-wound, we had visited the scene of our rescue +by the old priest. + +The Indian woman had met him as she was returning home, and had told +him of our danger, and he had started out before dawn, to find that +there was no longer any entrance to the tunnel. Wandering in +bewilderment upon the mountains, he had reached the place where I was +buried at the moment of my final effort to break through the débris +overhead. + +Although the explanation seemed an impossible one, there was none other. + +The cliff, riddled with tunnels and eaten out by its numerous +subterranean streams, had fallen. The charge of dynamite exploded, as +it happened, beneath that part which buttressed the entire structure, +combining with the pressure of the glacier above, had thrown the +mountain on its side, filling the lake with several million tons of ice +and obliterating all traces of the _château_, which lay buried beneath +its waters. + +That was Père Antoine's explanation, and we realized at once that it +was useless to search for Charles Duchaine. The whole aspect of the +region had been changed; there was neither glacier nor cataract, and +the lake, swollen to twice its size and height, slept peacefully +beneath its covering of ice and snow. + + +When we returned to the cabin we were amazed to see a sleigh standing +outside, and dogs feeding. Two men were seated at the priests table, +smoking. + +"_Diable, monsieur_, don't you keep a stove in your house?" shouted a +well-known voice to Père Antoine. Then, as Jacqueline and I approached +the entrance, the man turned and sprang toward us with outstretched +hands that gripped ours and wrung them till we cried out in pain. + +It was Alfred Dubois. + +But I was stupefied to see the second man who rose and advanced toward +me with a shrewd smile. For it was Tom Carson! + +Presently I was telling my story--except for that part which more +intimately concerned myself and Jacqueline, and the narrative of the +murder, which I gave only as Lacroix had confessed it to me. + +A look of incredulity deepened on Tom's shrewd old face till, at the +end, he burst out explosively at me: + +"Hewlett, I didn't think I was a damned fool before--I beg your pardon, +miss. If any man had told me that I would have knocked him down. But +I am, I am, and want you to be my manager." + +"Do you mean that I have lied to you?" I asked indignantly. + +"Every word, Hewlett--every word, my son. That is why I want you back +with me. First you leave my employment without offering any reason; +then you take hold of my business affairs and try to pull off a deal +over my head, and then you tell me a yarn about a castle falling into a +lake." + +"But, M. Carson," interposed the priest, "I myself have seen this +_château_ many times. And I have gone to the entrance and looked from +the mountain, too, and it is no longer there." + +"Never was," said Carson. "You fellows get so lonesome up in these +wilds that you have to see things." + +"But I heard the explosion." + +"Artillery practice down the Gulf." + +"Listen to me, M. Carson!" exploded Dubois. "Did I not say that I +would drive you here myself because I was anxious about a friend of +mine and his young bride who were in the clutches of that scoundrel, +Simon Leroux, who killed my brother? And did I not say that they were +in the _Château Duchaine_?" + +"Well, there may be a _château_, somewhere," Carson replied. "In fact, +there probably is. This man, d'Epernay, who is said to be dead now, +wanted to sell me the biggest gold mine in the world for fifty thousand +dollars, and from what I know of Leroux I am ready to believe that he +would try to hog it if it really exists. So, as I wanted to see how +our lumber development at St. Boniface was getting along, I thought I'd +come up here and investigate." + +"But how about Leroux?" I cried, more amused now than vexed. + +"That," answered Tom, "is precisely why I want to get hold of you +again, Mr. Hewlett." + +"But here is Mlle. Duchaine!" shouted the old priest in despair. + +Tom Carson raised his fat old body about five inches and made +Jacqueline what he took to be a bow. + +"Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss," he replied. "Ah, well, it +doesn't matter. I guess that man, d'Epernay, was lying to me. He +wanted to get a cash advance, and I got a little suspicious of him just +about then. However, I am ready to look at your gold mine if you want +me to." + +"You'll have to do some blasting then," I said, nettled. "It's just +about two hundred feet below the ground." + +"Never mind," said Tom. "Lumber is better than gold. Next time I'm +here I shall be glad to have another look around. And now, Hewlett, if +you want a job at five thousand a year to start--to start, mind you, +you play fair and tell me where Leroux is hiding himself." + +I was too mortified to answer him. But I felt Jacqueline slip her hand +into mine, and suddenly the memory of the past made Tom's raillery an +insignificant affair. + +"Mind you," he pursued, "he'll turn up soon. He's got to turn up, +because the lumber company's all organized now and in fine running +order. What do you say, Hewlett?" + +"Nothing," I answered. + +"All right," he said, turning away with a shrug of his shoulders. +"Unpractical as ever, ain't you? Think it over, my son. Glad to have +met you, Mr. Priest, and as I'm always busy I guess Dubois and I will +start for home this afternoon." + +Jacqueline looked at me, and I shook my head. I didn't want Tom to +witness it. But a word from Père Antoine changed the hostile tenor of +my thoughts to warm and human ones. + +"Messieurs," he said, "doubtless you know what day this is?" + +Tom started. "Why, good Lord, it--it's Christmas Day, isn't it?" he +asked, a little sheepishly. + +"It's a bigger day for us," I said to Tom. + +He squinted at me in his shrewd manner; and then he got up from the +table and wrung my hand. + +"Good luck to you both," he said. "Say, Mr. Dubois, I guess we can +pitch our tent here to-night--don't you?" + +Alfred Dubois was grappling with our hands again; but his onset was +less ferocious, because he had to loose us every now and then to slap +me on the back and blow his nose. + +"If only _la petite Madeleine_ could be here!" he shouted. And I am +sure that was his dinner voice I heard. + + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Jacqueline of Golden River, by H. M. 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M. Egbert + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jacqueline of Golden River + +Author: H. M. Egbert + +Illustrator: Ralph Pallen Coleman + +Release Date: September 28, 2005 [EBook #16771] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="He went without a backward glance …" BORDER="2" WIDTH="302" HEIGHT="549"> +<H4> +[Frontispiece: He went without a backward glance … <BR>and I knew what +the parting meant to him.] +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER +</H1> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +H. M. EGBERT +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +FRONTISPIECE +<BR><BR> +BY +<BR><BR> +RALPH PALLEN COLEMAN +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +<BR><BR> +GARDEN CITY ————— NEW YORK +<BR><BR> +1920 +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY +<BR><BR> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +<BR><BR><BR> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF +<BR> +TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES +<BR> +INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY THE FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<CENTER> + +<TABLE WIDTH="80%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAPTER</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">A DOG AND A DAMSEL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">BACK IN THE ROOM</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">COVERING THE TRACKS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">SIMON LEROUX</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">M. LE CURÉ</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFF</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">CAPTAIN DUBOIS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">DREAMS OF THE NIGHT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">THE FUNGUS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">SNOW BLINDNESS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">THE CHÂTEAU</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">UNDER THE MOUNTAINS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">THE ROULETTE-WHEEL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">SOME PLAIN SPEAKING</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">WON—AND LOST</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">THE OLD ANGEL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">LOUIS D'EPERNAY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">THE LITTLE DAGGER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">THE HIDDEN CHAMBER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">AT SWORDS' POINTS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">THE BAIT THAT LURED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">SURRENDER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">LEROUX'S DIABLE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">FULL CONFESSION</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">THE END OF THE CHÂTEAU</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A DOG AND A DAMSEL +</H3> + +<P> +As I sat on a bench in Madison Square after half past eleven in the +evening, at the end of one of those mild days that sometimes occur in +New York even at the beginning of December, a dog came trotting up to +me, stopped at my feet, and whined. +</P> + +<P> +There is nothing remarkable in having a strange dog run to one nor in +seeing the creature rise on its hind legs and paw at you for notice and +a caress. Only, this happened to be an Eskimo dog. +</P> + +<P> +It might have been mistaken for a collie or a sheepdog by nearly +everybody who saw it, though most men would have turned to admire the +softness of its fur and to glance at the heavy collar with the silver +studs. But I knew the Eskimo breed, having spent a summer in Labrador. +</P> + +<P> +I stroked the beast, which lay down at my feet, raising its head +sometimes to whine, and sometimes darting off a little way and coming +back to tug at the lower edge of my overcoat. But my mind was too much +occupied for me to take any but a perfunctory interest in its +manoeuvres. My eight years of thankless drudgery as a clerk, following +on a brief adventurous period after I ran away to sea from my English +home, had terminated three days before, upon receipt of a legacy, and I +had at once left Tom Carson's employment. +</P> + +<P> +Six thousand guineas—thirty thousand dollars—the will said. I had +not seen my uncle since I was a boy. But he had been a bachelor, we +were both Hewletts, and I had been named Paul after him. +</P> + +<P> +I had seen for some time that Carson meant to get rid of me. It had +been a satisfaction to me to get rid of him instead. +</P> + +<P> +He had been alternately a prospector and a company promoter all the +working years of his rather shabby life. He had organized some dubious +concerns; but his new offices on Broadway were fitted so +unostentatiously that anyone could see the Northern Exploitation +Company was not trying to glitter for the benefit of the small investor. +</P> + +<P> +Coal fields and timber-land somewhere in Canada, the concession was +supposed to be. But Tom was as secretive as a clam, except with Simon +Leroux. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux was a parish politician from some place near Quebec, and his +clean-shaven, wrinkled face was as hard and mean as that of any city +boss in the United States. His vile Anglo-French expletives were as +nauseous as his cigars. He and old Tom used to be closeted together +for hours at a time. +</P> + +<P> +I never liked the man, and I never cared for Carson's business ways. I +was glad to leave him the day after my legacy arrived. +</P> + +<P> +He only snorted when I gave him notice, and told the cashier to pay me +my salary to date. He had long before summed me up as a spiritless +drudge. I don't believe he gave another thought to me after I left his +office. +</P> + +<P> +My plans were vague. I had been occupying, at a low rental, a tiny +apartment consisting of two rooms, a bath, and what is called a +"kitchenette" at the top of an old building in Tenth Street which was +about to be pulled down. Part of the roof was gone already, and there +was a six-foot hole under the eaves. +</P> + +<P> +I had arranged to leave the next day, and a storage company was to call +in the morning for my few sticks of furniture. I had half planned to +take boat for Jamaica. I wanted to think and plan. +</P> + +<P> +I had nobody dependent on me, and was resolved to invest my little +fortune in such a way that I might have a modest competence, so that +the dreadful spectre of poverty might never leer at me again. +</P> + +<P> +The Eskimo dog was growing uneasy. It would run from me, looking round +and uttering a succession of short barks, then run back and tug at my +overcoat again. I began to become interested in its manoeuvres. +</P> + +<P> +Evidently it wished me to accompany it, and I wondered who its master +was and how it came to be there. +</P> + +<P> +I stooped and looked at the collar. There was no name on it, except +the maker's, scratched and illegible. I rose and followed the beast, +which showed its eager delight by running ahead of me, turning round at +times to bark, and then continuing on its way with a precision which +showed me that it was certain of its destination. +</P> + +<P> +As I crossed Madison Square the light on the Metropolitan Tower flashed +the first quarter. Broadway was in full glare. The lure of electric +signs winked at me from every corner. The restaurants were disgorging +their patrons, and beautifully dressed women in fine furs, accompanied +by escorts in evening dress, stood on the pavements. Taxicabs whirled +through the slush. +</P> + +<P> +I began to feel a renewal in me of the old, old thrill the city had +inspired when I entered it a younger and a more hopeful man. +</P> + +<P> +The dog turned down a street in the Twenties, ran on a few yards, +bounded up a flight of stone steps, and began scratching at the door of +a house that was apparently empty. +</P> + +<P> +I say apparently, because the shades were down at every window and the +interior was unlit, so far as could be seen from the street; but I knew +that at that hour it must contain from fifty to a hundred people. +</P> + +<P> +This place I knew by reputation. It was Jim Daly's notorious but +decently conducted gambling establishment, which was running full blast +at a time when every other institution of this character had found it +convenient to shut down. +</P> + +<P> +So the creature's master was inside Daly's, and it wished me to get him +out. This was evidence of unusual discernment in his best friend, but +it was hardly my prerogative to exercise moral supervision over this +adventurous explorer of a chillier country even than his northern +wastes. I looked in some disappointment at the closed doors and turned +away. +</P> + +<P> +I meant to go home, and I had proceeded about three paces when the lock +clicked. I stopped. The front door opened cautiously, and the gray +head of Jim's negro butler appeared. Behind it was the famous grille +of cast-steel, capable, according to rumour, of defying the axes of any +number of raiding reformers. +</P> + +<P> +Then emerged one of the most beautiful women that I had ever seen. +</P> + +<P> +I should have called her a girl, for she could not have been more than +twenty years of age. Her hair was of a fair brown, the features +modelled splendidly, the head poised upon a flawless throat that +gleamed white beneath a neckpiece of magnificent sable. +</P> + +<P> +She carried a sable muff, too, and under these furs was a dress of +unstylish fashion and cut that contrasted curiously with them. I +thought that those loose sleeves had passed away before the nineteenth +century died. In one hand she carried a bag, into which she was +stuffing a large roll of bills. +</P> + +<P> +As she stepped down to the street the dog leaped up at her. A hand +fell caressingly upon the creature's head, and I knew that she had one +servant who would be faithful unto death. +</P> + +<P> +She passed so close to me that her dress brushed my overcoat, and for +an instant her eyes met mine. There was a look in them that startled +me—terror and helplessness, as though she had suffered some benumbing +shock which made her actions more automatic than conscious. +</P> + +<P> +This was no woman of the class that one might expect to find in Daly's. +There was innocence in the face and in the throat, uplifted, as one +sees it in young girls. +</P> + +<P> +I was bewildered. What was a girl like that doing in Daly's at half +past twelve in the morning? +</P> + +<P> +She began walking slowly and rather aimlessly, it seemed to me, along +the street in the direction of Sixth Avenue. My curiosity was +unbounded. I followed her at a decent interval to see what she was +going to do. But she did not seem to know. +</P> + +<P> +The girl looked as if she had stepped out of a cloister into an unknown +world, and the dog added to the strangeness of the picture. +</P> + +<P> +The street loafers stared after her, and two men began walking abreast +of her on the other side of the road. I followed more closely. +</P> + +<P> +As she stood upon the curb on the east side of Sixth Avenue I saw her +glance timidly up and down before venturing to cross. There was little +traffic, and the cars were running at wide intervals, but it was quite +half a minute before she summoned resolution to plunge beneath the +structure of the elevated railroad. When she had reached the other +side she stood still again before continuing westward. +</P> + +<P> +The two men crossed the street and planted themselves behind her. They +were speaking in a tongue that sounded like French, and one had a patch +over his eye. A taxicab was crawling up behind them. I was sure that +they were in pursuit of her. +</P> + +<P> +The four of us were almost abreast in the middle of the long block +between Sixth and Seventh Avenues. We were passing a dead wall, and +the street was almost empty. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the man with the patch turned on me, lowered his head, and +butted me off my feet. I fell into the roadway, and at that instant +the second fellow grasped the girl by the arm and the taxicab whirled +up and stopped. +</P> + +<P> +The girl's assailants seemed to be trying to force her into the cab. +One caught at her arm, the other seized her waist. The bag flew open, +scattering a shower of gold pieces upon the pavement. +</P> + +<P> +And then, before I could get upon my feet again, the dog had leaped at +the throat of the man with the patch and sent him stumbling backward. +Before he recovered his balance I was at the other man, striking out +right and left. +</P> + +<P> +It was all the act of an instant, and in an instant the two men had +jumped into the taxicab and were being driven swiftly away. I was +standing beside the terrified girl, while an ill-looking crowd, +gathering from God knows where, surrounded us and fought like harpies +for the coins which lay scattered about. +</P> + +<P> +I laid my hands on one who had grabbed a gold piece from between my +feet, but the girl pulled at my arm distractedly. She was white and +trembling, and her big grey eyes were full of fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Help me!" she pleaded, clinging to my sleeve with her little gloved +hands. "The money is nothing. I have eight thousand dollars more in +my bag. Help me away!" +</P> + +<P> +She spoke in a foreign, bookish accent, as though she had learned +English at school. Fortunately for us the mob was too busily engrossed +in its search to hear her words. +</P> + +<P> +So I drew her arm through mine and we hurried toward Sixth Avenue, +where we took an up-town car. +</P> + +<P> +We had reached Herald Square when it occurred to me that my companion +did not seem to know her destination. So we descended there. I +intended to order a taxicab for her, had forgotten the dog, but now the +beautiful creature came bounding up to us. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you going?" I asked the girl. "I will take you to your +home—or hotel," I added with a slight upward intonation on the last +word. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know where I am going," she answered slowly. "I have never +been in New York until to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"But you have friends here?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"But are you really carrying eight thousand dollars about with you in +New York at night?" I asked in amazement. "Don't you know this city is +full of thieves, and that you are in the worst district?" +</P> + +<P> +For a moment it occurred to me that she might have been decoyed into +Daly's. And yet I knew it was not that sort of place; indeed, Daly's +chief desire was to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It was very +difficult to get into Daly's. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know the character of the place you came out of?" I asked, +trying to find some clue to her actions. +</P> + +<P> +"The character?" she repeated, apparently puzzled at first. "Oh, yes. +That is Mr. Daly's gaming-house. I came to New York to play at +roulette there." +</P> + +<P> +She was looking at me so frankly that I was sure she was wholly +ignorant of evil. +</P> + +<P> +"My father is too ill to play himself," she explained, "so I must find +a hotel near Mr. Daly's house, and then I shall play every night until +our fortune is made. Tonight I lost nearly two thousand dollars. But +I was nervous in that strange place. And the system expressly says +that one may lose at first. To-morrow I raise the stakes and we shall +begin to win. See?" +</P> + +<P> +She pulled a little pad from her bag covered with a maze of figuring. +</P> + +<P> +"But where do you come from?" I asked. "Where is your father?" +</P> + +<P> +Again I saw that look of terror come into her eyes. She glanced +quickly about her, and I was sure she was thinking of escaping from me. +</P> + +<P> +I hastened to reassure her. +</P> + +<P> +"Forgive me," I said. "It is no business of mine. And now, if you +will trust me a little further I will try to find a hotel for you." +</P> + +<P> +It would have disarmed the worst man to feel her little hand slipped +into his arm in that docile manner of hers. I took her to the Seward, +the Grand, the Cornhil, and the Merrimac—each in turn. +</P> + +<P> +Vain hope! You know what the New York hotels are. When I asked for a +room for her the clerk would eye her furs dubiously, look over his book +in pretense, and then inform me that the hotel was full. +</P> + +<P> +At the Merrimac I sat down in the lobby and sent her to the clerk's +desk alone, but that was equally useless. I realized pretty soon that +no reputable hotel in New York City would accommodate her at that hour. +</P> + +<P> +We were standing presently in front of the <I>Herald</I> office. Her hand +still touched my arm, and I was conscious of an absurd desire to keep +it there as long as possible. +</P> + +<P> +My curiosity had given place to deep anxiety on her account. What was +this child doing in New York alone, what sort of father had let her +come, if her story were true? What was she? A European? Too +unconventional for that. An Argentine? A runaway from some South +American convent? +</P> + +<P> +Her skin was too fair for Spanish blood to flow beneath it. She looked +French and had something of the French frankness. +</P> + +<P> +Canadian? I dared not ask her any more questions. There was only one +thing to do, and, though I shrank from the suggestion, it had to be +made. +</P> + +<P> +"It is evident that you must go somewhere to-night," I said. "I have +two rooms on Tenth Street which I am vacating to-morrow. They are +poorly furnished, but there is clean linen; and if you will occupy them +for the night I can go elsewhere, and I will call for you at nine in +the morning." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled at me gratefully—she did not seem surprised at all. +</P> + +<P> +"You have some baggage?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No, <I>monsieur</I>," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +She <I>was</I> French, then—Canadian-French, I had no doubt. I was hardly +surprised at her answer. I had ceased to be surprised at anything she +told me. +</P> + +<P> +"To-morrow I shall show you where to make some purchases, then," I +said. "And now, <I>mademoiselle</I>, suppose we take a taxicab." +</P> + +<P> +As her hand tightened upon my arm I saw a man standing on the west side +of Broadway and staring intently at us. +</P> + +<P> +He was of a singular appearance. He wore a fur coat with a collar of +Persian lamb, and on his head was a black lambskin cap such as is worn +in colder climates, but it seldom seen in New York. He looked about +thirty years of age, he had an aspect decidedly foreign, and I imagined +that he was scowling at us malignantly. +</P> + +<P> +I was not sure that this surmise was not due to an over-active +imagination, but I was determined to get away from the man's scrutiny, +so I called a taxicab and gave the driver my address. +</P> + +<P> +"Go through some side streets and go fast," I said. +</P> + +<P> +The fellow nodded. He understood my motive, though I fear he may have +misinterpreted the circumstances. We entered, and the girl nestled +back against the comfortable cushions, and we drove at a furious speed, +dodging down side streets at a rate that should have defied pursuit. +</P> + +<P> +During the drive I instructed my companion emphatically. +</P> + +<P> +"Since you have no friends here, you must have confidence in me, +<I>mademoiselle</I>," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"And you are my friend? Well, <I>monsieur</I>, be sure I trust you," she +answered. +</P> + +<P> +"You must listen to me attentively, then," I continued. "You must not +admit anybody to the apartment until I ring to-morrow. I have the key, +and I shall arrive at nine and ring, and then unlock the door. But +take no notice of the bell. You understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, <I>monsieur</I>," she answered wearily. Her eyelids drooped; I saw +that she was very sleepy. +</P> + +<P> +When the taxicab deposited us in front of the house, I glanced hastily +up and down the road. There was another cab at the east end of the +street, but I could not discern if it were approaching me or +stationary. I opened the front door quickly and admitted my companion, +then preceded her up the uncarpeted stairs to my little apartment on +the top floor. I was the only tenant in the house, and therefore there +would be no cause for embarrassment. +</P> + +<P> +As I opened the door of my apartment the dog pushed past me. Again I +had forgotten it; but it had not forgotten its mistress. +</P> + +<P> +I looked inside my bare little rooms. It was hard to say good-by. +</P> + +<P> +"Till to-morrow, <I>mademoiselle</I>," I said. "And won't you tell me your +name?" +</P> + +<P> +She drew off her glove and put one hand in mine. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline," she answered. "And yours?" +</P> + +<P> +"Paul," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Au revoir</I>, Monsieur Paul, then, and take my gratitude with you for +your goodness." +</P> + +<P> +I let her hand fall and hurried down the stairs, confused and choking, +for there was a wedding-ring upon her finger. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BACK IN THE ROOM +</H3> + + +<P> +The situation had become more preposterous than ever. Two hours before +it would have been unimaginable; one hour ago I had merely been +offering aid to a young woman in distress; now she was occupying my +rooms and I was hurrying along Tenth Street, careless as to my +destination, and feeling as though the whole world was crumbling about +my head because she wore a wedding-ring. +</P> + +<P> +Certainly I was not in love with her, so far as I could analyze my +emotions. I had been conscious only of a desire to help her, merging +by degrees into pity for her friendlessness. +</P> + +<P> +But the wedding-ring—what hopes, then, had begun to spring up in my +heart? I could not fathom them; I only knew that my exaltation had +given place to profound dejection. +</P> + +<P> +As I passed up the street the taxicab which I had seen at the east end +came rapidly toward me. It passed, and I stopped and looked after it. +I was certain that it slackened speed outside the door of the old +building, but again it went on quickly, until it was lost to view in +the distance. +</P> + +<P> +Had I given the pursuers a clue by my reappearance? +</P> + +<P> +I watched for a few moments longer, but the vehicle did not return, and +I dismissed the idea as folly. In truth, there was no reason to +suppose that the man I had seen in Herald Square was connected with the +two others, or that any of the three had followed us. No doubt the +third man was but a street-loafer of the familiar type, attracted by +Jacqueline's unusual appearance. +</P> + +<P> +And, after all, New York was a civilized city, and I could be sure of +the girl's safety behind the street door-lock and that of my apartment +door. So I refused to yield to the impulse to go back and assure +myself that she was all right. I must find a hotel and get a good +night's sleep. In the morning, undoubtedly, I would see the episode in +a less romantic fashion. +</P> + +<P> +As I went on, new thoughts began to press on my imagination. Such an +event as this, told in any gathering of men, why, they would smile at +me and call me the victim of an adventuress. The tale about the +father, the assumed ignorance of the conventions—how much could be +believed? +</P> + +<P> +Had she not probably left her husband in some Canadian city and come to +New York to enjoy her holiday in her own fashion? Could she innocently +have adventured to Daly's door and actually have succeeded in gaining +admission? Why, many a would-be gambler had had the wicket of the +grille slammed in his face by the old colored butler. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps she was worse than I was even now imagining! +</P> + +<P> +I had turned up Fifth Avenue, and had reached Twelfth or Thirteenth +Street when I thought I heard the patter of the Eskimo dog's feet +behind me. I spun, around, startled, but there was only the long +stretch of pavement, wet from a slight recent shower, and the +reflection of the white arc-lights in it. +</P> + +<P> +I had resumed my course when I was sure I heard the pattering again. +And again I saw nothing. +</P> + +<P> +A moment later I was hurrying back toward the apartment-house. My +nerves had suddenly become unstrung. I felt sure now that some +imminent danger was threatening Jacqueline. I could not bear the +suspense of waiting till morning. I wanted to save her from something +that I felt intimately, but did not understand, and at which my reason +mocked in vain. +</P> + +<P> +And as I ran I thought I heard the patter of the dog's feet, pacing +mine. +</P> + +<P> +I was rounding the corner of Tenth Street now, and again the folly of +my behaviour struck home to me. I stopped and tried to think. Was it +some instinct that was taking me back, or was it the remembrance of +Jacqueline's beauty? Was it not the desire to see her, to ask her +about the ring? +</P> + +<P> +Surely my fears were but an overwrought imagination and the strangeness +of the situation, acting upon a mind eagerly grasping out after +adventure, being set free from the oppression of those dreadful years +of bondage! +</P> + +<P> +I had actually swung around when I heard the ghostly patter of the feet +again close at my side. I made my decision in that instant, and +hurried swiftly on my course back toward the apartment house. +</P> + +<P> +I was in Tenth Street now. It was half-past two in the morning, and +beginning to grow cold. The thoroughfare was empty. I fled, a tiny +thing, between two rows of high, dark houses. +</P> + +<P> +When at last I found my door my hands were trembling so that I could +hardly fit the key into the lock. +</P> + +<P> +I wondered now whether it had not been the pattering of my heart that I +had heard. +</P> + +<P> +I bounded up the stairs. But on the top story I had to pause to get my +breath, and then I dared not enter. I listened outside. There was no +sound from within. +</P> + +<P> +The two rooms that I occupied were separated only by a curtain, which +fell short a foot from the floor and was slung on a wooden pole, +disclosing two feet between the top of it and the ceiling. The rooms +were thus actually one, and even that might have been called small, for +the bed in the rear room was not a dozen paces from the door. +</P> + +<P> +I listened for the breathing of the sleeping girl. My intelligence +cried out upon my folly, telling me that my appearance there would +terrify her; and yet that clamorous fear that beat at my heart would +not be silenced. +</P> + +<P> +If I could hear her breathe, I thought, I would go quietly away, and +find a hotel in which to sleep. I listened minute after minute, but I +could not hear a sound. +</P> + +<P> +At last I put my mouth to the keyhole and spoke to her. "Jacqueline," +I called. The name sounded as strange and sweet on my own lips as it +had sounded on hers when she told it to me. I waited. +</P> + +<P> +There was no answer. +</P> + +<P> +Then a little louder: "Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +And then quite loudly: "Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +I listened, dreading that she would cry out in alarm, but the same dead +silence followed. +</P> + +<P> +Then, out of the silence, hammering on my eardrums, burst the loud +ticking of the little alarm-clock that I had left on the mantel of the +bedroom. I heard that, and it must have been ticking minutes before +the sound reached me; perhaps if I waited a little longer I should hear +her breathing. +</P> + +<P> +The alarm-clock was one of that kind which, when set to "repeat," +utters a peculiar little click every two hundred and eighth stroke +owing to a catch in the mechanism. Formerly it had annoyed me +inexpressibly, and I would lie awake for hours waiting for that tiny +sound. Now I could hear even that, and heard it repeat and repeat +itself; but I could not hear Jacqueline breathe. +</P> + +<P> +I took the key of the apartment door from my pocket at last and fitted +it noiselessly into the lock. I stood there, trembling and irresolute. +I dared not turn the key. The hall door gave immediately upon the +rooms without a private passage, and at the moment when I opened the +door I should be practically inside my bedroom save for the intervening +curtain. +</P> + +<P> +Once more I ventured: +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +There was not the smallest answering stir within. And so, with shaking +fingers, I turned the key. +</P> + +<P> +The door creaked open with a noise that must have sounded throughout +the empty house. I recollected then that it was impossible to keep it +shut without locking it. The landlord had long ago ceased to concern +himself with his tumble-down property. +</P> + +<P> +I caught at the door-edge, missed it and, tripping over a rent in the +cheap mat that lay against the door inside, stumbled against the +table-edge and clung there. +</P> + +<P> +And even after I had caught at it, and stayed my fall, that infernal +door went creaking, creaking backward till it brought up against the +wall. +</P> + +<P> +The room was completely dark, except for a little patch of light high +up on the bedroom wall, which came through the hole the workmen had +made when they began demolishing the building. I hesitated a moment; +then I drew a match from my pocket and rubbed it softly into a flame +against my trouser leg. +</P> + +<P> +I reached up to the gas above the table, turned it on, and lit the +incandescent mantle, lowering the light immediately. But even then +there was no sound from behind the curtains. +</P> + +<P> +They hung down close together, so that I was able to see only the +gas-blackened ceiling above them and, underneath, the lower edge of the +bed linen, and the bed-frame at the base, with its enamelled iron feet, +The sheets hung straight, as though the bed had not been occupied; but, +though there was no sound, I knew Jacqueline was at the back of the +curtains. +</P> + +<P> +The oppressive stillness was not that of solitude. She must be awake; +she must be listening in terror. +</P> + +<P> +I went toward the curtains, and when I spoke I heard the words come +through my lips in a voice that I could not recognize as mine. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline!" I whispered, "it is Paul. Paul, your friend. Are you +safe, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +Now I saw, under the curtains, what looked like the body of a very +small animal. It might have been a woolly dog, or a black lambkin, and +it was lying perfectly still. +</P> + +<P> +I pulled aside the curtains and stood between them, and the scene +stamped itself upon my brain, as clear as a photographic print, for +ever. +</P> + +<P> +The woolly beast was the fur cap of a dead man who lay across the floor +of the little room. One foot was extended underneath the bed, and the +head reached to the bottom of the wall on the other side of the room. +He lay upon his back, his eyes open and staring, his hands clenched, +and his features twisted into a sneering smile. +</P> + +<P> +His fur overcoat, unbuttoned, disclosed a warm knit waistcoat of a +gaudy pattern, across which ran the heavy links of a gold chain. There +was a tiny hole in his breast, over the heart, from which a little +blood had flowed. The wound had pierced the heart, and death had +evidently been instantaneous. +</P> + +<P> +It was the man whom I had seen staring at us across Herald Square. +</P> + +<P> +Beside the window Jacqueline crouched, and at her feet lay the Eskimo +dog, watching me silently. In her hand she held a tiny, dagger-like +knife, with a thin, red-stained blade. Her grey eyes, black in the +gas-light, stared into mine, and there was neither fear nor recognition +in them. She was fully dressed, and the bed had not been occupied. +</P> + +<P> +I flung myself at her feet. I took the weapon from her hand. +"Jacqueline!" I cried in terror. I raised her hands to my lips and +caressed them. +</P> + +<P> +She seemed quite unresponsive. +</P> + +<P> +I laid them against my cheek. I called her by her name imploringly; I +spoke to her, but she only looked at me and made no answer. Still it +was evident to me that she heard and understood, for she looked at me +in a puzzled way, as if I were a complete stranger. She did not seem +to resent my presence there, and she did not seem afraid of the dead +man. She seemed, in a kindly, patient manner, to be trying to +understand the meaning of the situation. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline," I cried, "you are not hurt? Thank God you are not hurt. +What has happened?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," she answered. "I don't know where I am." +</P> + +<P> +I kneeled down at her side and put my arms about her. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline, dear;" I said, "will you not try to think? I am +Paul—your friend Paul. Do you not remember me?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, monsieur," she sighed. +</P> + +<P> +"But, then, how did you come here, Jacqueline?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know," she answered. And, a moment later, "I do not know, +Paul." +</P> + +<P> +That encouraged me a little. Evidently she remembered what I had just +said to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is your home, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know," she answered in an apathetic voice, devoid of interest. +</P> + +<P> +There was something more to be said, though it was hard. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline, who—was—that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" she inquired, looking at me with the same patient, wistful gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"That man, Jacqueline. That dead man." +</P> + +<P> +"What dead man, Paul?" +</P> + +<P> +She was staring straight at the body, and at that moment I realized +that she not only did not remember, but did not even see it. +</P> + +<P> +The shock which she had received, supervening upon the nervous state in +which she had been when I encountered her, had produced one of those +mental inhibitions in which the mind, to save the reason, obliterates +temporarily not only all memory of the past, but also all present +sights and sounds which may serve to recall it. She looked idly at the +body of the dead man, and I was sure that she saw nothing but the worn +woodwork of the floor. +</P> + +<P> +I saw that it was useless to say anything more upon this subject. +</P> + +<P> +"You are very tired, Jacqueline?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, <I>monsieur</I>," she answered, leaning back against my arm. +</P> + +<P> +"And you would like to sleep?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, <I>monsieur</I>." +</P> + +<P> +I raised her in my arms and laid her on the bed, telling her to close +her eyes and sleep. She was asleep almost immediately after her head +rested Upon the pillow. She breathed as softly as an infant. +</P> + +<P> +I watched her for a while until I heard a distant clock strike three. +This recalled me to the dangers of our situation. I struck a match and +lit the gas in the bedroom. But the yellow glare was so ghastly and +intolerable that I turned it down. +</P> + +<P> +And then I set about the task before me. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +COVERING THE TRACKS +</H3> + + +<P> +I thought quickly, and my consciousness seemed to embrace all the +details of the situation with a keenness foreign to my nature. +</P> + +<P> +Once, I believe, I had been able to play an active part among the men +who were my associates in that adventurous life that lay so far behind +me. But eight years of clerkship had reduced me to the condition of +one who waits on the command of others. Now my irresolution vanished +for the time, and I was my old self once more. +</P> + +<P> +The first task was the disposal of the body in such a way that +suspicion would not attach itself to me after I had vacated the rooms +next morning. +</P> + +<P> +There was a fire-escape running up to the floor of that room on the +outside of the house, though there was no egress to it. It had been +put up by the landlord to satisfy the requirements of some new law; but +had never been meant for use, and it was constructed of the flimsiest +and cheapest ironwork. I saw that it would be possible by standing on +a chair to swing myself up to the hole in the wall and reach down to +the iron stairs up which, I assumed, the dead man had crept after I had +given him the hint of Jacqueline's abode by emerging from the front +door. +</P> + +<P> +I raised the dead man in my arms, looking apprehensively toward the +bed. I was afraid Jacqueline would awaken, but she slept in heavy +peace, undisturbed by the harsh creaking of the sagging floor beneath +its double burden. I put the fur cap on the grotesque, nodding dead +head, and, pushing a chair toward the wall with my foot, mounted it and +managed with a great effort to squeeze through the hole, pulling up the +body with me as I did so. +</P> + +<P> +Then I felt with my foot for the little platform at the top of the iron +stairs outside, found it, and dropped. Afterward I dragged the +dreadful burden down from the hole. +</P> + +<P> +I had not known that I was strong before, and I do not understand now +how I managed to accomplish my wretched task. +</P> + +<P> +I carried the dead man all the way down the fire-escape, clinging and +straining against the rotting, rusting bars, which bent and cracked +beneath my weight and seemed about to break and drag down the entire +structure from the wall. +</P> + +<P> +I hardly paused at the platforms outside the successive stories. The +weather was growing very cold, a storm was coming up, and the wind +soughed and whined dismally around the eaves. +</P> + +<P> +I reached the bottom at last and rested for a moment. +</P> + +<P> +At the back of the house was a little vacant space, filled with heaps +of débris from the demolished portions of the building and with refuse +which had been dumped there by tenants who had left and had never been +removed. This yard was separated only by a rotting fence with a single +wooden rail from a small blind alley. +</P> + +<P> +The alley had run between rows of stables in former days when this was +a fashionable quarter, but now these were mostly unoccupied, save for a +few more pretentious ones at the lower end, which were being converted +into garages. +</P> + +<P> +Everywhere were heaps of brick, piles of rain-rotted wood, and +rubbish-heaps. +</P> + +<P> +I took up my burden and placed it at the end of the alley, covering it +roughly with some old burlap bags which lay there. I thought it safe +to assume that the police would look upon the dead man as the victim of +some footpad. It was only remotely possible that suspicion would be +directed against any occupant of any of the houses bordering on the +<I>cul-de-sac</I>. +</P> + +<P> +I did not search the dead man's pockets. I cared nothing who he was, +and did not want to know. My sole desire was to acquit Jacqueline of +his death in the world's eyes. +</P> + +<P> +That he had come deservedly by it I was positive. I was her sole +protector now, and I felt a furious resolve that no one should rob me +of her. +</P> + +<P> +The ground was as hard as iron, and I was satisfied that my footsteps +had left no track; there would be snow before morning, and if my feet +had left any traces these would be covered effectively. +</P> + +<P> +Four o'clock was striking while I was climbing back into the room +again. Jacqueline lay on the bed in the same position; she had not +stirred during that hour. While she slept I set about the completion +of my task. +</P> + +<P> +I took the knife from the floor where I had flung it, scrubbed it, and +placed it in my suit-case. Then I scrubbed the floor clean, afterward +rubbing it with a soiled rag to make its appearance uniform. +</P> + +<P> +I washed my hands, and thought I had finally removed all traces of the +affair; but, coming back, I perceived something upon the floor which +had escaped my notice. It was the leather collar of the Eskimo dog, +with its big silver studs and the maker's silver name-plate. +</P> + +<P> +All this while the animal had remained perfectly quiet in the room +crouching at Jacqueline's feet and beside the bed. It had not +attempted to molest me, as I had feared might be the case during the +course of my gruesome work. +</P> + +<P> +I came to the conclusion that there might have been a struggle; that it +had run to its mistress's assistance, and that the collar had been torn +from it by the dead man. +</P> + +<P> +My first thought was to put the collar back upon the creature's neck; +but then I came to the conclusion that this might possibly serve as a +means of identification. And it was essential that no one should be +able to identify the dog. +</P> + +<P> +So I picked the collar up and carried it into the next room and held it +under the light of the incandescent gas-mantle. The letters of the +maker's name were almost obliterated, but after a careful study I was +able to make them out. The name was Maclay & Robitaille, and the place +of manufacture Quebec. This confirmed my belief concerning +Jacqueline's nativity. +</P> + +<P> +I pried the plate from the leather and slipped it into my pocket. I +put the broken collar into my suitcase, together with the dagger, and +then I set about packing my things for the journey which we were to +undertake. +</P> + +<P> +I had always accustomed myself to travel with a minimum of baggage, and +the suit-case, which was a roomy one, held all that I should need at +any time. When I had finished packing I went back to Jacqueline and +sat beside her while she slept. As I sat dawn I heard a city clock +strike five. +</P> + +<P> +In a little while it would begin to lighten, and the advent of the day +filled me with a sort of terror. +</P> + +<P> +I watched the sleeping girl. Who was she? How could she sleep calmly +after that night's deed? The mystery seemed unfathomable; the girl +alone in the city, the robbers, the dog, the dead man, and the one who +had escaped me. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline's bag lay on the bureau and disgorging bills. There were +rolls and rolls of them—eight thousand dollars did not seem too much. +</P> + +<P> +Besides these, the bag contained the usual feminine properties: a +handkerchief, sachet-bag, a pocket mirror, and some thin papers, coated +with rice-powder. +</P> + +<P> +The thought crossed my mind that the bills might be counterfeit, and I +picked one up and looked carefully at it, comparing it with one from my +own pocketbook. But I was soon satisfied that they were real. Well—I +turned back to Jacqueline, ashamed of the suspicion that had crossed my +mind. +</P> + +<P> +Her soft brown hair streamed over the pillow and hung down toward the +floor, a heavy mass, uncoiled from the wound braids upon her neck. Her +breast rose and fell evenly with her breathing. She looked even +younger than on the preceding evening. I was sure now that she was +innocent of evil, and my unworthy thoughts made me ashamed. Her +outstretched arm was extended beyond the edge of the bed. +</P> + +<P> +I raised her hand and held in it my own, and I sat thus until the room +began to lighten, watching her all the while. +</P> + +<P> +It was strange that as I sat there I began to grow comforted. I looked +on her as mine. When I had kissed her hands I had forgotten the ring +upon her finger; and now, holding that hand in mine and running my +fingers round and round the circlet of gold, I was not troubled at all. +I could not think of her as any other man's. She was mine—Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +Presently she stirred, her eyes opened, and she sat up. I placed a +pillow at her back. She gazed at me with apathy, but there was also +recognition in her look. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know me, Jacqueline?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Paul," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Your friend?" +</P> + +<P> +"My friend, Paul." +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline, I am going to take you home," I said, hoping that she +would tell me something, but I dared ask her no more. I meant to take +her to Quebec and make inquiries there. Thus I hoped to learn +something of her, even if the sight of the town did not awaken her +memories. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to take you home, Jacqueline," I repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Paul," she answered in that docile manner of hers. +</P> + +<P> +"It is lucky you have your furs, because the winter is cold where your +home is." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Paul," she repeated as before, and a few more probings on my part +convinced me that she remembered nothing at all. Her mind was like a +person's newly awakened in a strange land. But this state brought with +it no fear, only a peaceful quietude and faith which was very touching. +</P> + +<P> +"We have forgotten a lot of things that troubled us, haven't we, Paul?" +she asked me presently. "But we shall not care, since we have each +other for friends. And afterwards perhaps we shall pick them up again. +Do you not think so, Paul?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Jacqueline," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"If we remembered now the memory of them might make us unhappy," she +continued wistfully. "Do you not think so, Paul?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +There was a faint and vague alarm in her eyes which made me glad for +her sake that she did not know. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Jacqueline," I said, "we shall have to begin to make ready for +our journey." +</P> + +<P> +I had just remembered that the storage company which was to warehouse +my few belongings was to call that day. The van would probably be at +the house early in the morning, and it was essential that we should be +gone before it arrived. +</P> + +<P> +Fortunately I had arranged to leave the door unlocked in case my +arrangements necessitated my early departure, and this was understood, +so that my absence would cause no surprise. +</P> + +<P> +I showed Jacqueline the bathroom and drew the curtains. Then I went +into the kitchenette and made coffee on the gas range, and, since it +was too early for the arrival of my morning loaf, which was placed just +within the street door by the baker's boy every day, I made some toast +and buttered it. +</P> + +<P> +I remember reflecting, with a relic of my old forced economy, how +fortunate it was that my pound of butter had just lasted until the +morning when I was to break up housekeeping. +</P> + +<P> +When I took in the breakfast Jacqueline was waiting for me, looking +very dainty and charming. She was hungry, too, also a good sign. +</P> + +<P> +She did not seem to understand that there was anything strange in the +situation in which we found ourselves. I did not know whether this was +due to her mental state or to that strange unsophistication which I had +already observed in her. At any rate, we ate our breakfast together as +naturally as though we were a married couple of long standing. +</P> + +<P> +After the meal was ended, and we had fed the dog, Jacqueline insisted +on washing the dishes, and I showed her the kitchenette and let her do +so, though I should never have need for the cheap plates and cups again. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Jacqueline, we must go," I said. +</P> + +<P> +I placed her neckpiece about her. I closed her bag, stuffing the bills +inside, and hung it on her arm. I could not resist a smile to see the +little pad covered with its maze of figures among the rolls of money. +I was afraid that the sight of it would awaken her memories, but she +only looked quietly at it and put it away. +</P> + +<P> +I wanted her to let me bank her money for her, but did not like to ask +her. However, of her own account she took out the bills and handed +them to me. +</P> + +<P> +"What a lot of money I have," she said. "I hardly thought there was so +much money in the world, Paul." +</P> + +<P> +It was past eight when we left the house. I carried my suit-case and, +stopping at a neighbouring express office, had it sent to the Grand +Central station. And then I decided to take the dog to the animal's +home. +</P> + +<P> +I did not like to do so, but was afraid, in the necessity of protecting +Jacqueline, that its presence might possibly prove embarrassing, so I +took it there and left it, with instructions that it was to be kept +until I sent for it. I paid a small sum of money and we departed, +Jacqueline apparently indifferent to what I had done, though the +animal's distress at being parted from her disturbed my conscience a +good deal. +</P> + +<P> +Still it seemed the only thing to do under our circumstances. +</P> + +<P> +Quebec, then, was my objective, and with no further clue than the +dog-collar. There were two trains, I found, at three and at nine. The +first, which I proposed to take, would bring us to our destination soon +after nine the next day, but our morning was to be a busy one, and it +would be necessary to make our preparations quickly. +</P> + +<P> +A little snow was on the ground, but the sun shone brightly, and I felt +that the shadows of the night lay behind us. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SIMON LEROUX +</H3> + + +<P> +With Jacqueline's arm drawn through mine I paid a visit to the bank in +which I had deposited my legacy, and drew out fifteen hundred dollars, +next depositing Jacqueline's money to my own account. It amounted to +almost exactly eight thousand dollars. +</P> + +<P> +The receiving teller must have thought me an eccentric to carry so +large a sum, and I know he thought that Jacqueline and I had just been +married, for I saw him smile over the entry that he made in my bank +book. +</P> + +<P> +I wanted to deposit her money in her own name, but this would have +involved inquiries and explanations which I was not in a position to +satisfy. So there was nothing to do but deposit it in my own, and +afterward I could refund it to her. +</P> + +<P> +I said that the receiving teller smiled—he wore that indescribable +congratulatory look with which it is the custom to favor the newly +married. +</P> + +<P> +In fact, we were exactly like a honeymoon couple. Although I +endeavored to maintain an air of practical self-assurance there was now +a new shyness in her manner, an atmosphere of undefinable but very real +sweetness in the relationship between us which set my heart hammering +at times when I looked at her flushed cheeks and the fair hair, blown +about her face, and hiding the glances which she stole timidly at me. +</P> + +<P> +It was like a honeymoon departure, only with another man's wife; and +that made the sentiment more elevated and more chivalrous, for it set a +seal of honour on me which must remain unbroken till the time arrived. +</P> + +<P> +I wondered, as we strolled up Fifth Avenue together, how much she knew, +what she remembered, and what thoughts went coursing through her head. +That child-like faith of hers was marvellously sweet. It was an +innocent confidence, but it was devoid of weakness. I believed that +she was dimly aware that terrible things lay in the past and that she +trusted to her forgetfulness as a shield to shelter not only herself +but me, and would not voluntarily recall what she had forgotten. +</P> + +<P> +It was necessary to buy her an outfit of clothes, and this problem +worried me a good deal. I hardly knew the names of the things she +required. +</P> + +<P> +I believe now that I had absurd ideas as to the quantity and +consistency of women's garments. I was afraid that she would not know +what to buy; but, as the morning wore away, I realized that her mental +faculties were not dimmed in the least. +</P> + +<P> +She observed everything, clapped her hands joyously as a child at the +street sights and sounds, turned to wonder at the elevated and at the +high buildings. I ventured, therefore, upon the subject that was +perplexing me. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline," I said, "you know that you will require an outfit of +clothes before we start for your home. Not too many things, you know," +I continued cautiously, "but just enough for a journey." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Paul," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +"How much money shall I give you, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fifty dollars?" she inquired. +</P> + +<P> +I gave her a hundred, and took ridiculous delight in it. +</P> + +<P> +We entered a large department store, and I mustered up enough courage +to address the young woman who stood behind the counter that displayed +the largest assortment of women's garments. +</P> + +<P> +"I want a complete outfit for—for this lady," I stammered. "Enough +for,"—I hesitated again—"a two weeks' journey." +</P> + +<P> +The young woman smiled in a very pleasant way, and two others, who were +near enough to have overheard, turned and smiled also. +</P> + +<P> +"Bermuda or Niagara Falls?" asked the young woman. +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon?" I inquired, conscious that my face was +insufferably hot. +</P> + +<P> +"If you are taking <I>madame</I> to Bermuda she will naturally require +cooler clothing than if you are taking her to Niagara Falls," the young +woman explained, looking at me with benevolent patience. And seeing +that I was wholly disconcerted she added: +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps <I>madame</I> might prefer to make her own selection." +</P> + +<P> +As I stood in the centre of the store, apparently a stumbling block to +every shopper, Jacqueline flitted here and there, until a comfortable +assortment of parcels was accumulated upon the counter. +</P> + +<P> +"Where shall I send them, <I>madame</I>?" inquired the saleswoman. +</P> + +<P> +There was a suit-case to be bought, so I had them transferred to the +trunk and leather-goods department, where I bought a neat sole-leather +suit-case which, at Jacqueline's practical suggestion, was changed for +a lighter one of plaited straw. +</P> + +<P> +After that I abstained from misdirecting my companion's activities. +</P> + +<P> +And everybody addressed her as <I>madame</I>, and everybody smiled on us, +and sometimes I reflected miserably upon the wedding ring, and then +again smiled too and forgot, watching Jacqueline's eager face flushed +with delight as she looked at the pretty things in the store. +</P> + +<P> +I had meditated taking her into Tiffany's to buy her a trinket of some +kind. A ring seemed forbidden, and I was weighing the choice between a +bracelet and a watch, my desire to acquire a whole counter of trinkets +rapidly getting the better of my judgment, when something happened +which put the idea completely out of my head. +</P> + +<P> +It was while Jacqueline was examining the suitcases that my attention +was drawn to a tall, elderly man with a hard, drawn, and deeply lined +weather-beaten face, and wearing a massive fur overcoat, open in front, +who was standing in the division between the trunk department and that +adjoining it, immediately behind Jacqueline. He was looking at me with +an unmistakable glance of recognition. +</P> + +<P> +I knew that I had seen him several times before, but, though his +features were familiar, I had forgotten his name. +</P> + +<P> +In fact, I had seen him only a week before, but the events of the past +night had made a week seem like a week of years. I stared at him and +he stared back at me, and made an urgent sign to me. +</P> + +<P> +Keeping an eye on Jacqueline, and not losing sight of her at any time, +I followed the tall man. As I neared him my remembrance of him grew +stronger. I knew that powerful, slouching gait, that heavy tread. +When he turned round I had his name on my lips. +</P> + +<P> +It was Simon Leroux. +</P> + +<P> +"So you've got her!" he began in a hoarse, forcible whisper. "Where +did you pick her up? I was hurrying away from Tom's office when I +happened to see you two entering Mischenbusch's." +</P> + +<P> +I remembered then that the office in which I had drudged was only a +couple of blocks away. I made no answer, but waited for him to lead +again—and I was thinking hard. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the devil to pay!" he went on in his execrable accent. "Louis +came on posthaste, as you know, and he hasn't turned up this morning +yet. Ah, I always knew Tom was close, but I never dreamed <I>you</I> knew +anything. When I used to see sitting near the door in his office +writing in those <I>sacré</I> books I thought you were just a clerk. And +you were in the know all the time, you were! You know what happened +last night?" he continued, looking furtively around. +</P> + +<P> +"It was an unfortunate affair," I said guardedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Unfortunate!" he repeated, staring at me out of his bloodshot eyes. +"It was the devil, by gosh! Who was he?" +</P> + +<P> +His face was fiery red, and he cast so keen a look at me that I almost +thought he had discovered he was betraying himself. +</P> + +<P> +"It was lucky I was in New York when Louis wired us she had flown," he +continued—I omit the oaths which punctuated his phrases. "Lucky I had +my men with me, too. I didn't think I'd need them here, but I'd +promised them a trip to New York—and then comes Louis's wire. I put +them on the track. I guessed she's go to Daly's—old Duchaine was mad +about that crazy system of his, and had been writing to him. +</P> + +<P> +"He used to know Daly when they were young men together at Saratoga and +Montreal, and in Quebec, in the times when they had good horses and +high-play there. I tell you it was ticklish. There was millions of +dollars worth of property walking up Broadway, and they'd got her, with +a taxi waiting near by, when that devil's fool strolls up and draws a +crowd. If I'd been there I'd have——" +</P> + +<P> +A string of vile expletives followed his last remark. +</P> + +<P> +"They got on his track and followed them to the Merrimac," he +continued. "And they never came out. They waited all night till nine +this morning, and they never came out. My God, I thought her a good +girl—it's awful! Who was he? Say, how much do you know?" +</P> + +<P> +His face was dripping with sweat, and he shot an awful look at +Jacqueline as she bent over the suit-case. I could hardly keep my +hands off him, but Jacqueline's need was too great for me to give vent +to my passion. +</P> + +<P> +I remembered now that, after sending Jacqueline to the clerk's desk +alone, she had gone to a side entrance and I had joined her there and +left the hotel with her in that fashion. At any rate, Simon's words +showed me that his hired men were not acquainted with the rest of the +night's work. +</P> + +<P> +I gathered from what he had said that the possession of Jacqueline was +vitally important both to Leroux and to Tom Carson, for some reason +connected with the Northern Exploitation Company, and that they had +endeavoured to kidnap her and hold her till the man Louis arrived to +advise them. +</P> + +<P> +"How much do you know?" hissed Simon at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Leroux," I said, "I'm not going to tell you anything. You will +remember that I was employed by Mr. Carson." +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't I as good as Carson? What are you going to do with her?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better go back to the office and wait, unless you want to spoil +the game by letting her see you," I said. +</P> + +<P> +I was sure he was hiding from her intentionally, and I could see that +he believed I was working for Carson, for though he scowled fearfully +at me he seemed impressed by my words. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whether Tom's running straight or not," he said huskily; +"but let me tell you, young man, it'll pay you to keep in with me, and +if you've got any price, name it!" +</P> + +<P> +He shook his heavy fist over me—I believe the clerks thought he was +going to strike me, for they came hurrying toward us. But I saw +Jacqueline approaching, and, without another word, Leroux turned away. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline caught sight of his retreating figure and her eyes widened. +I thought I saw a shadow of fear in them. Then the memory was effaced +and she was smiling again. +</P> + +<P> +I instructed the store to call a messenger and have the suit-case taken +at once to the baggage-room in the Grand Central station. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Jacqueline, I'm going to take you to lunch," I said. "And +afterward we will start for home." +</P> + +<P> +Outside the store I looked carefully around and espied Leroux almost +immediately lighting a cigar in the doorway of a shop. I hit upon a +rather daring plan to escape him. +</P> + +<P> +Carson's offices were in a large modern building, with many elevators +and entrances. I walked toward it with Jacqueline, being satisfied +that Leroux was following us; entered about twenty-five yards before +him, and ascended in the elevator, getting off, however, on the floor +above that on which the offices were. +</P> + +<P> +I was satisfied that Leroux would follow me a minute later, under the +impression that we had gone to the Northern Exploitation Company, and +so, after waiting a minute or two, I took Jacqueline down in another +elevator, and we escaped through the front entrance and jumped into a +taxicab. +</P> + +<P> +I was satisfied that I had thrown Leroux off the scent, but I took the +precaution to stop at a gunsmith's shop and purchase a pair of +automatic pistols and a hundred cartridges. The man would not sell +them to me there on account of the law, but he promised to put them in +a box and have them delivered at the station, and there, in due course, +I found them. +</P> + +<P> +But I was very uneasy until we found ourselves in the train. And then +at last everything was accomplished—our baggage upon the seats beside +us and our berths secured. At three precisely the train pulled out, +and Jacqueline nestled down beside me, and we looked at each other and +were happy. +</P> + +<P> +And then, at the very moment when the wheels began to revolve, Leroux +stepped down from a neighbouring train. As he passed our window he +espied us. +</P> + +<P> +He started and glared, and then he came racing back toward us, shaking +his fists and yelling vile expletives. He tried to swing himself +aboard in his fury despite the fact that the doors were all shut. A +porter pushed him back and the last I saw of him he was still pursuing +us, screaming with rage. +</P> + +<P> +I knew that he would follow on the nine o'clock train, reaching Quebec +about five the following afternoon. That gave us five hours' grace. +It was not much, but it was something to have Jacqueline safe with me +even until the morrow. +</P> + +<P> +I turned toward her, fearful that she had recognized the man and +realized the situation. But she was smiling happily at my side, and I +was confident then that, by virtue of that same mental inhibition, she +had neither seen nor heard the fellow. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul, it is <I>bon voyage</I> for both of us," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +She looked at me thoughtfully a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul, when we get home——" +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know," she said, putting her palms to her head. "Perhaps I +shall remember then. But you—you must stay with me, Paul." +</P> + +<P> +Her lips quivered slightly. She turned her head away and looked out of +the window at the horrible maze of houses in the Bronx and the +disfiguring sign-boards. +</P> + +<P> +New York was slipping away. All my old life was slipping away like +this—and evil following us. I slipped one of the automatics out of my +suit-case into my pocket and swore that I would guard Jacqueline from +any shadow of harm. +</P> + +<P> +Each minute that I spent with her increased my passion for her. I had +ceased to have illusions on that score. One question recurred to my +mind incessantly. Could she be ignorant that she had a husband +somewhere? Would she tell me—or was this the chief of the memories +that she had laid aside? +</P> + +<P> +I opened one of the newspapers that I had bought at the station +bookstand, dreading to find in flaring letters the headlines announcing +the discovery of the body. +</P> + +<P> +I found the announcement—but in small type. The murder was ascribed +to a gang battle—the man could not be identified, and apparently both +police and public considered the affair merely one of those daily +slayings that occur in that city. +</P> + +<P> +Another newspaper devoted about the same amount of space to the +account, but it published a photograph of the dead man, taken in the +alley, where, it appeared, the reporter had viewed the body before it +had been removed. The photograph looked horribly lifelike. I cut it +out and placed it in my pocketbook. +</P> + +<P> +For the present I felt safe. I believed the affair would be forgotten +soon. And meanwhile here was Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +I turned toward her. She was asleep at my side, and her head drooped +on my shoulder. We sat thus all the afternoon, while the city +disappeared behind us, and we passed through Connecticut and approached +the Vermont hills. +</P> + +<P> +Then we had a gay little supper in the dining car. Afterward I walked +to the car entrance and flung the broken dog collar away—across the +fields. That was the last link that bound us to the past. +</P> + +<P> +Then the berths were lowered and made up; and fastening from my upper +place the curtain which fell before Jacqueline's, I knew that, for one +night more, at least, I held her in safe ward. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +M. LE CURÉ +</H3> + + +<P> +The very obvious decision at which I arrived after a night of +cogitation in my berth was that Jacqueline was to pass as my sister. I +explained my plan to her at breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +There had been the examination of baggage at the frontier and the +tiresome change to a rear car in the early morning, and most of us were +heavy-eyed, but she looked as fresh and charming as ever in her new +waist of black lace and the serge skirt which she had bought the day +before. It seemed impossible to realize that I was really seated +opposite her in the dining car, talking amid the punctuating chatter of +a party of red-cheeked French-Canadian school children who had come on +the train at Sherbrooke, bound for their home on the occasion of the +approaching Christmas holidays. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, Jacqueline," I explained, "it will look strange our +travelling together, unless some close relationship is supposed to +exist between us. I might subject you to embarrassment—so I shall +call you my sister, Miss Hewlett, and you will call me your brother +Paul." And I handed her my visiting card, because she had never heard +my surname before. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall be glad to think of you as my brother Paul," she answered, +looking at the card. She held it in her right hand, and it was not +until the middle of the meal that the left hand came into view. +</P> + +<P> +Then I discovered that she had taken off her wedding ring. +</P> + +<P> +I wondered what thought impelled her to do this, whether it was +coquetry or the same instinct which seemed to interpret the situation +at all times perfectly, though it never welled up into her +consciousness. +</P> + +<P> +We sped northward all that morning, stopping at many little wayside +stations, and as we rushed along beside the ice-bound St. Francis the +air ever grew colder, and the land, deep in snow, and the tall pines, +white with frost, looked like a picture on a Christmas card. +</P> + +<P> +At last the St. Lawrence appeared, covered with drifting floes; the +Isle of Orleans, with the Falls of Montmorency behind it; the ascending +heights which slope up to the Château Frontenac, the fort-crowned +citadel, the long parapet, bristling with guns. +</P> + +<P> +Then, after the ferry had transferred us from Levis we stood in Lower +Quebec. +</P> + +<P> +We had hardly gone on board the ferryboat when an incident occurred +that greatly disturbed me. A slightly built, well-dressed man, with a +small, upturned mustache and a face of notable pallor, passed and +repassed us several times, staring and smiling with cool effrontery at +both of us. +</P> + +<P> +He wore a lambskin cap and a fur overcoat, and I could not help +associating him with the dead man, or avoiding the belief that he had +travelled north with us, and that Leroux had been to see him off at the +station. +</P> + +<P> +I was a good deal troubled by this, but before I had decided to address +the fellow we landed, and a sleigh swept us up the hill toward the +château to the tune of jingling bells. It was a strange wintry +scene—the low sleighs, their drivers wrapped in furs and capped in +bearskin, the hooded nuns in the streets, the priests, soldiers, and +ancient houses. The air was keen and dry. +</P> + +<P> +"This is Quebec, Jacqueline," I said. +</P> + +<P> +I thought that she remembered unwillingly, but she said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +I dared ask her no questions. I fancied that each scene brought back +its own memories, but not the ideas associated with the chain of scenes. +</P> + +<P> +We secured adjacent rooms at the château, and leaving Jacqueline to +unpack her things, and under instructions not to leave her room and +promising to return as soon as possible, I started out at once to find +Maclay & Robitaille's. +</P> + +<P> +This proved a task of no great difficulty. It was a little shop where +leather goods were sold, situated on St. Joseph Street. A young man +with a dark, clean-shaven face, was behind the counter. He came +forward courteously as I approached. +</P> + +<P> +"I have come on an unusual mission," I began foolishly and stopped, +conscious of the inanity of this address. What a stupid thing to have +said! I must have aroused his suspicions immediately. +</P> + +<P> +He begged my pardon and called a man from another part of the shop. +And that gave me my chance over again, for I realized that he had not +understood my English. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember," I asked the newcomer, "selling a collar to a young +lady recently—no, some long time ago—a dog-collar, I mean?" +</P> + +<P> +The proprietor shrugged his shoulders. "I sell a good many dog-collars +during the year," he answered. +</P> + +<P> +I took the plate from my pocket and set it down on the counter. "The +collar was set with silver studs," I said. "This was the plate." Then +I remembered the name Leroux had used and flung it out at random. "I +think it was for a Mlle. Duchaine," I added. +</P> + +<P> +The shot went home. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, <I>monsieur</I>, now I remember perfectly," answered the proprietor, +"both from the unusual nature of the collar and from the fact that +there was some difficulty in delivering it. There was no post-office +nearer the <I>seigniory</I> than St. Boniface, where it lay unclaimed for a +long time. I think <I>madamoiselle</I> had forgotten all about the order. +Or perhaps the dog had died!" +</P> + +<P> +"Where is this <I>seigniory</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"The <I>seigniory</I> of M. Charles Duchaine?" he answered, looking +curiously at me. "You are evidently a stranger, <I>monsieur</I>, or you +would have heard of it, especially now when people are saying that——" +He checked himself at this point. "It is the oldest of the +<I>seigniories</I>," he continued. "In fact, it has never passed out of the +hands of the original owners, because it is almost uninhabitable in +winter, except by Indians. I understand that M. Duchaine has built +himself a fine château there; but then he is a recluse <I>monsieur</I>, and +probably not ten men have ever visited it. But <I>mademoiselle</I> is too +fine a woman to be imprisoned there long——" +</P> + +<P> +"How could one reach the château?" I interpolated. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at me inquiringly as though he wondered what my business +there could be. +</P> + +<P> +"In summer," he replied, "one might ascend the Rivière d'Or in a canoe +for half the distance, until one reached the mountains, and then——" +He shrugged his shoulders. "I do not know. Possibly one would inquire +of the first trapper who passed in autumn. In winter one would fly. +It is strange that so little is known of the <I>seigniory</I>, for they say +the Rivière d'Or——" +</P> + +<P> +"The Golden River?" +</P> + +<P> +"Has vast wealth in it, and formerly the Indians would bring gold-dust +in quills to the traders. But many have sought the source of this +supply in past times and failed or died, and so——" He shrugged his +shoulders again. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, M. Duchaine is a hermit," he continued. "Once, so my father +used to say, he was one of the gayest young men in Quebec. But he +became involved in the troubles of 1867—and then his wife died, and so +lie withdrew there with the little <I>mademoiselle</I>—what was her name?" +</P> + +<P> +He called his clerk. +</P> + +<P> +"Alphonse, what is the name of that pretty daughter of M. Charles +Duchaine, of Rivière d'Or?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Annette," answered the man. "No, Nanette. No Janette. I am sure it +ends with 'ette' or 'ine,' anyway." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Eh bien</I>, it makes no difference," said the proprietor, "because, +since she left the Convent of the Ursulines here in Quebec, where she +was educated, her father keeps her at the château, and you are not +likely to set eyes on M. Charles Duchaine's daughter." +</P> + +<P> +A sudden stoppage in his flow of words, an almost guilty look upon his +face, as a new figure entered the little shop, directed my attention +toward the stranger. +</P> + +<P> +He was an old man of medium size, very muscularly built, stout, and +with enormous shoulders. He wore a priest's <I>soutane</I>, but he did not +look like a priest—he looked like a man's head on a bull body. His +smooth face was tanned to the colour of an Indian's—his bright blue +eyes, almost concealed by their drooping, wrinkled lids, were piercing +in their scrutiny. +</P> + +<P> +He wore a bearskin hat and furs of surprising quality. It was not so +much his strange appearance that attracted my interest as the singular +look of authority upon the face, which was yet deeply lined about the +mouth, as though he could relax upon occasion and become the jolliest +of companions. +</P> + +<P> +And he spoke a pure French, interspersed with words of an uncouth +patois, which I ascribed to long residence in some remote parish. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Bo'jour</I>, Père Antoine," said the shopkeeper deferentially, fixing +his eyes rather timidly upon the old priest's face. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Eh bien</I>, who is this with whom thou gossipest concerning the +daughter of M. Duchaine?" inquired Father Antoine, looking at me keenly. +</P> + +<P> +"Only a customer—a stranger, <I>monsieur</I>," answered the proprietor, +rubbing his hands together. "He wishes to see—a dog collar, was it +not?" he continued, turning nervously toward me. +</P> + +<P> +"You talk too much," said Père Antoine roughly. "Now, <I>monsieur</I>," he +said, addressing me in fair English, "what is the nature of your +business that it can possibly concern either M. Duchaine or his +daughter? Perhaps I can inform you, since he is one of my +parishioners." +</P> + +<P> +"My conversation was not with you, <I>monsieur le curé</I>," I answered +shortly, and left the shop. I had ascertained what I needed to know, +and had no desire to enter into a discussion of my business with the +old man. +</P> + +<P> +I had not gone three paces from the door, however, when the priest, +coming up behind me, placed a huge hand upon my shoulder and swung me +around without the least apparent effort. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know what your business is, <I>monsieur</I>," he said, "but if it +were an honest one you would state it to me. If you wish to see M. +Duchaine I am best qualified to assist you to do so, since I visit his +château twice each year to carry the consolations of religion to him +and his people. But if your business is not honest it will fail. End +it then and return to your own country." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not intend to discuss my business with you, <I>monsieur</I>," I +answered angrily. It is humiliating to be in the physical grip of +another man, even though he be a priest. +</P> + +<P> +He let me go and stood eyeing me with his keen gaze. I jumped on a +passing car, but looking back, I saw him striding along behind it. He +seemed to walk as quickly as the car went through the crowded street, +and with no effort. +</P> + +<P> +When I got off in the neighbourhood of the Place d'Armes it was nearly +dark; but though I could not see the old man, I was convinced that he +was still following me. +</P> + +<P> +I found Jacqueline in her room looking over her purchases, and took her +down to dinner. +</P> + +<P> +And here I had another disconcerting experience, for hardly were we +seated when the inquisitive stranger whom I had seen at the ferry came +into the dining-room, and after a careful survey which ended as his +eyes fell on us, he took his seat at an adjacent table. +</P> + +<P> +I could not but connect him with our presence there. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux was due to arrive at any moment. I realized that great issues +were at stake, that the man would never cease in his attempts to get +hold of Jacqueline. Only when I had returned her to her father's house +would I feel safe from him. +</P> + +<P> +The château was the worst place to have made my headquarters. If I had +realized the man's persistence, perhaps I would have sought less +conspicuous lodgings. Leroux's behaviour at the railroad station had +betrayed both an ungovernable temper when he was crossed, and to a +certain extent, fearlessness. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless I believed him to have also an elemental cunning which +would dissuade him from violent measures so long as we were in Quebec. +I resolved, therefore, not to avoid him, but to await his lead. +</P> + +<P> +After dinner I had some conversation with one of the hotel clerks. I +discovered that the Rivière d'Or flowed into the Gulf of St. Lawrence +from the north, in the neighbourhood of Anticosti. +</P> + +<P> +It was a small stream, and except for a postal station at its mouth +named St. Boniface, was little known, the only occupants of those parts +being trappers and Indians. +</P> + +<P> +When I told the clerk that I had business at St. Boniface I think he +concluded that I represented an amalgamation of fishing interests, for +he became exceedingly communicative. +</P> + +<P> +"You could hire dogs and a sleigh at St. Boniface for wherever your +final destination is," he said, "because the dog mail has been +suspended owing to the new government mail-boats, and the sleighs are +idle. I think Captain Dubois would take you on his boat as far as that +point, and I believe he makes his next trip in a couple of days." +</P> + +<P> +He gave me the captain's address, and I resolved to call on him early +the following day and make arrangements. +</P> + +<P> +I was just turning away when I saw the inquisitive stranger leave the +smoking-room. He crossed the hall and went out, not without bestowing +a long look on me. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is that man?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, isn't he a friend of yours?" inquired the clerk. +</P> + +<P> +"Only by the way he stares at me," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he said he thought he knew you and asked me your name," the +clerk answered. "He didn't give me his, and I don't think he has been +in here before." +</P> + +<P> +I took Jacqueline for a stroll on the Terrace, and while we walked I +pondered over the problem. +</P> + +<P> +The night was too beautiful for my depression of mind to last. The +stars blazed brilliantly overhead; upon our left the faint outlines of +the Laurentians rose, in front of us the lights of Levis twinkled above +the frozen gulf. There was a flicker of Northern Lights in the sky. +</P> + +<P> +We paced the Terrace, arm in arm, from the statue of Champlain that +overlooks the Place d'Armes to the base of the mighty citadel, and +back, till the cold drove us in. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline was very quiet, and I wondered what she remembered. I +dreaded always awakening her memory lest, with that of her home, came +that other of the dead man. +</P> + +<P> +Our rooms were on the side of the Château facing the town, and as we +passed beneath the arch I saw two men standing no great distance away, +and watching us, it seemed to me. +</P> + +<P> +One wore the cassock of a priest, and I could have sworn that he was +Père Antoine; the other resembled the inquisitive stranger. As we drew +near they moved behind a pillar. Thus, inexorably, the chase drew near. +</P> + +<P> +My suspicions received confirmation a few minutes later, for we had +hardly reached our rooms, and I was, in fact, standing at the door of +Jacqueline's, bidding her good night, when a bellboy came along the +passage and announced that the gentleman whom I was expecting was +coming up the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +I said good-night to Jacqueline and went into my room and waited. I +had thought it would be the stranger, but it was the priest. +</P> + +<P> +I invited him to enter, and he came in and stood with his fur cap on +his head, looking direfully at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, <I>monsieur</I>, what is the purpose of this visit?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"To tell you," he thundered, "that you must give up the unhappy woman +who has accompanied you here." +</P> + +<P> +"That is precisely what I intend to do," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"To me," he said. "Her husband——" +</P> + +<P> +I felt my brain whirling. I knew now that I had always cherished a +hope, despite the ring—what a fool I had been! +</P> + +<P> +"I married them," continued Père Antoine. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is he?" I demanded desperately. +</P> + +<P> +He appeared disconcerted. I gathered from his stare that he had +supposed I knew. +</P> + +<P> +"This is a Catholic country," he went on, more quietly. "There is no +divorce; there can be none. Marriage is a sacrament. Sinning as she +is——" +</P> + +<P> +I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I will not hear any more," I said. +"Go!" I pointed toward the door. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to take her away with me," he said, and crossing the +threshold into the corridor, placed one hand on the door of +Jacqueline's room. +</P> + +<P> +I got there first. I thrust him violently aside—it was like pushing a +monument; turned the key, which happily was still outside, and put it +in my pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"I am ready to deal with her husband," I said. "I am not ready to deal +with you. Leave at once, or I will have you arrested, priest or no +priest." +</P> + +<P> +He raised his arm threateningly. "In God's name—" he began. +</P> + +<P> +"In God's name you shall not interfere with me," I cried. "Tell that +to your confederate, Simon Leroux. A pretty priest you are!" I raged. +"How do I know she has a husband? How do I know you are not in league +with her persecutors? How do I know you are a priest at all?" +</P> + +<P> +He seemed amazed at the violence of my manner. +</P> + +<P> +"This is the first time my priesthood has been denied," he said +quietly. "Well, I have offered you your chance. I cannot use +violence. If you refuse, you will bring your own punishment upon your +head, and hers on that of the unhappy woman whom you have led into sin." +</P> + +<P> +"Go!" I shouted, pointing down the passage. +</P> + +<P> +He turned and went, his <I>soutane</I> sweeping against the door of +Jacqueline's room as he went by. At the entrance to the elevator he +turned again and looked back steadily at me. Then the door clanged and +the elevator went down. +</P> + +<P> +I unlocked the door of Jacqueline's room. I saw her standing at the +foot of the bed. She was supporting herself by her hands on the brass +framework. Her face was white. As I entered she looked up piteously +at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Who—was—that?" she asked in a frightened whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"An impudent fellow—that is all, Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought I knew his voice," she answered slowly. "It made +me—almost—remember. And I do not want to remember, Paul." +</P> + +<P> +She put her arms about my neck and cried. I tried to comfort her, but +it was a long time before I succeeded. +</P> + +<P> +I locked her door on the outside, and that night I slept with the key +beneath my pillow. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFF +</H3> + + +<P> +The next morning, after again cautioning Jacqueline not to leave her +room until I returned, I went to the house of Captain Dubois on Paul +Street, in the Lower Town. +</P> + +<P> +I was admitted by a pleasant-looking woman who told me that the captain +would not be home until three in the afternoon, so I returned to the +château, took Jacqueline for a sleigh ride round the fortifications, +and delighted her, and myself also, by the purchase of two fur coats, +heavy enough to exclude the biting cold which I anticipated we should +experience during our journey. +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon I went back to Paul Street and found M. Dubois at +home. He was a man of agreeable appearance, a typical Frenchman of +about forty-five, with a full face sparsely covered with a black beard +that was beginning to turn grey at the sides, and with an air of +sagacious understanding, in which I detected both sympathy and a +lurking humour. +</P> + +<P> +When I explained that I wanted to secure two passages to St. Boniface, +his brows contracted. +</P> + +<P> +"So you, too, are going to the Château Duchaine!" he exclaimed. "Is +there not room for two more on the boat of Captain Duhamel?" +</P> + +<P> +I disclaimed all knowledge of Duhamel, but he looked entirely +unconvinced. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a pity, <I>monsieur</I>, that you are not acquainted with Captain +Duhamel," he said dryly, "because I cannot take you to St. Boniface. +But undoubtedly Captain Duhamel will assist you and your friend on your +way to the Château Duchaine." +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you suppose that I am going to the Château Duchaine?" I +inquired angrily. +</P> + +<P> +He flared up, too. "<I>Diable</I>!" he burst out, "do you suppose all +Quebec does not know what is in the wind? But since you are so +ignorant, <I>monsieur</I>, I will enlighten you. We will assume, to begin +then, that you are not going to the château, but only to St. Boniface, +perhaps to engage in fishing for your support. Eh, <I>monsieur</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +Here he looked mockingly at my fur coat, which hardly bore out this +presumption of my indigence. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Eh bien</I>, to continue. Let us suppose that the affairs of M. Charles +Duchaine have interested a gentleman of business and politics whom we +will call M. Leroux—just for the sake of giving him a name, you +understand," he resumed, looking at me maliciously. "And that this M. +Leroux imagines that there is more than spruce timber to be found on +the seigniory. <I>Bien</I>, but consider further that this M. Leroux is a +mole, as we call our politicians here. It would not suit him to appear +openly in such an enterprise? He would always work through his agents +in everything would he not being a mole? +</P> + +<P> +"Let us say then that he arranges with a Captain Duhamel to convey his +party to St. Boniface to which point he will go secretly by another +route and that he will join them there and—in short, <I>monsieur</I>, take +yourself and your friend to the devil, for I won't give you passage." +</P> + +<P> +His face was purple, and I assumed that he bore no love for Simon, +whose name seemed to be of considerable importance in Quebec. I was +delighted at the turn affairs were taking. +</P> + +<P> +"You have not a very kindly feeling for this mythical person whom we +have agreed to call Leroux," I said. +</P> + +<P> +Captain Dubois jumped out of his chair and raised his arms passionately +above him. +</P> + +<P> +"No, nor for any of his friends," he answered. "Go back to him—for I +know he sent you to me—and tell him he cannot hire Alfred Dubois for +all the money in Canada." +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad to hear you say that," I answered, "because Leroux is no +friend of mine. Now listen to me, Captain Dubois. It is true that I +am going to the château, if I can get there, but I did not know that +Leroux had made his arrangements already. In brief, he is in pursuit +of me and I have urgent reasons for avoiding him. My companion is a +lady——" +</P> + +<P> +"Eh?" he exclaimed, looking stupidly at me. +</P> + +<P> +"And I am anxious to take her to the château, where we shall be safe +from the man——" +</P> + +<P> +"A lady!" exclaimed the captain. "A young one? Why didn't you tell me +so at first, <I>monsieur</I>? I'll take you. I will do anything for an +enemy of Leroux. He put my brother in jail on a false charge because +he wouldn't bow to him—my brother died there, <I>monsieur</I>—that was his +wife who opened the door to you. And the children, who might have +starved, if I had not been able to take care of them! And he has tried +to rob me of my position, only it is a Dominion one—the rascal!" +</P> + +<P> +The captain was becoming incoherent. He drew his sleeve across his +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"But a lady!" he continued, with forced gaiety a moment later, "I do +not know your business, <I>monsieur</I>, but I can guess, perhaps——" +</P> + +<P> +"But you must not misunderstand me," I interposed. "She is not——" +</P> + +<P> +"It's all right!" said the captain, slapping me upon the back. "No +explanations! Not a word, I assure you. I am the most discreet of +men. Madeleine!" +</P> + +<P> +This last word was a deep-chested bellow, and in response a little girl +came running in, staggering under the weight of the captain's overcoat +of raccoon fur. +</P> + +<P> +"That is my overcoat voice," he explained, stroking the child's head. +"My niece, <I>monsieur</I>. The others are boys. I wish they were all +girls, but God knows best. And, you see, a man can save much trouble, +for by the tone in which I call Madeleine knows whether it is my +overcoat or my pipe or slippers that I want, or whether I am growing +hungry." +</P> + +<P> +I thought that the captain's hunger voice must shake the rafters of the +old building. +</P> + +<P> +"And now, <I>monsieur</I>," he continued seriously, when we had left the +house, "I am going to take you down to the pier and show you my boat. +And I will tell you as much as I know concerning the plans of that +scoundrel. In brief, it is known that a party of his friends has been +quartered for some time at the château; they come and go, in fact, and +now he is either taking more, or the same ones back again, and God +knows why he takes them to so desolate a region, unless, as the rumour +is, he has discovered coal-fields upon the seigniory and holds M. +Duchaine in his power. Well, <I>monsieur</I>, a party sails with Captain +Duhamel on tonight's tide, which will carry me down the gulf also. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, <I>monsieur</I>," he continued, "it is impossible to clear the ice +unless the tide bears us down; but once the Isle of Orleans is past we +shall be in more open water and independent of the current. Captain +Duhamel's boat is berthed at the same pier as mine upon the opposite +side, for they both belong to the Saint-Laurent Company, which leases +them in winter. +</P> + +<P> +"We start together, then, but I shall expect to gain several hours +during the four days' journey, for I know the <I>Claire</I> well, and she +cannot keep pace with my <I>Sainte-Vierge</I>. In fact it was only +yesterday that the government arranged for me to take over the +<I>Sainte-Vierge</I> in place of the <I>Claire</I>, which I have commanded all +the winter, for it is essential that the mails reach St. Boniface and +the maritime villages as quickly as possible. So you must bring your +lady aboard the <I>Sainte-Vierge</I> by nine to-night. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall telegraph to my friend Danton at St. Boniface to have a sleigh +and dogs at your disposal when you arrive, and a tent, food, and +sleeping bags," continued Captain Dubois, "for it must be a hundred and +fifty miles from St. Boniface to the Château Duchaine. It is not a +journey that a woman should take in winter," he added with a +sympathetic glance at me, "but doubtless your lady knows the way and +the journey well." +</P> + +<P> +The question seemed extraordinarily sagacious; it threw me into +confusion. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, M. Danton carried the mails by dog-sleigh before the +steamship winter mail service was inaugurated," he went on, "and now he +will be glad of an opportunity to rent his animals. So I shall wire +him tonight to hold them for you alone, and shall describe you to him. +And thus we will check M. Leroux's designs, which have doubtless +included this point. And so, with half a day's start, you will have +nothing to fear from him—only remember that he has no scruples. +Still, I do not think he will catch you and Mlle. Jacqueline before you +reach Château Duchaine," he ended, chuckling at his sagacity. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, well, <I>monsieur</I>, who else could your lady be?" he asked, smiling +at my surprise. "I knew well that some day she must leave those wilds. +Besides, did I not convey her here from St. Boniface on my return, less +than a week ago, when she pleaded for secrecy? I suspected something +agitated her then. So it was to find a husband that she departed thus? +When she is home again, kneeling at her old father's feet, pleading for +forgiveness, he will forgive—have no fear, <I>mon ami</I>." +</P> + +<P> +So Jacqueline had left her home not more than a week before! And the +captain had no suspicion that she was married then! Yet Père Antoine +claimed to have performed the ceremony. +</P> + +<P> +To whom? And where was the man who should have stood in my place and +shielded her against Leroux? +</P> + +<P> +I made Dubois understand, not without difficulty, that we were still +unmarried. His face fell when he realized that I was in earnest, but +after a little he made the best of the situation, though it was evident +that some of the glamour was scratched from the romance in his opinion. +</P> + +<P> +By now we had arrived at the wharf. It was a short pier at the foot of +one of the numerous narrow streets that run down from the base of the +mighty cliff which ascends to the ramparts and Park Frontenac. On +either side, wedged in among the floes, lay a small ship of not many +tons' burden—the <I>Claire</I> and the <I>Sainte-Vierge</I> respectively. The +latter vessel lay upon our right as we approached the end of the wharf. +</P> + +<P> +"Hallo! Hallo, Pierre!" shouted Dubois in what must have resembled his +dinner voice, and a seaman with a short black beard came running up the +deck and stopped at the gangway. +</P> + +<P> +"It is all right," said Dubois, after a few moments' conversation. +"Pierre understands all that is necessary, and he will tell the men. +And now I will show you the ship." +</P> + +<P> +There was a small cabin for Jacqueline and another for myself +adjoining. This accommodation had been built for the convenience of +the passengers whom the Saint-Laurent Company, though its boats were +built for freight, occasionally accepted during its summer runs. I was +very well satisfied and inquired the terms. +</P> + +<P> +"If it were not for the children there should be no terms!" exclaimed +the captain. "But it is hard, <I>monsieur</I>, with prices rising and the +hungry mouths always open, like little birds." +</P> + +<P> +He was overjoyed at the sight of the fifty dollars which I tendered +him. However, my generosity was not wholly disingenuous. I felt that +it would be wise to make one stanch friend in that unfriendly city; and +money does bind, though friendship exist already. +</P> + +<P> +"By the way," I said, "do you know a priest named Père Antoine?" +</P> + +<P> +"An old man? A strong old man? Why, assuredly, <I>monsieur</I>," answered +the captain. "Everybody knows him. He has the parish of the Rivière +d'Or district, and the largest in Quebec. As far as Labrador it is +said to extend, and he covers it all twice each year, in his canoe or +upon snowshoes. A saint, <I>monsieur</I>, as not all of our priests are, +alas! You will do well to make his acquaintance." +</P> + +<P> +He placed one brawny hand upon my shoulder and swung me around. +</P> + +<P> +"Now at last I understand!" he bellowed. "So it is Père Antoine who is +to make you and mademoiselle husband and wife! And you thought to +conceal it from me, <I>monsieur</I>!" he continued reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +His good-humour being completely restored by this prospective +consummation of the romance, the captain parted from me on the wharf on +his way to the telegraph-office, repeating his instructions to the +effect that we were to be aboard the boat by nine, as he would not be +able to remain later than that hour on account of the tide. +</P> + +<P> +It had grown dark long before and, looking at my watch, I was surprised +to see that it was already past six o'clock. I had no time to lose in +returning to the château. +</P> + +<P> +But though I could see it outlined upon the cliff, I soon found myself +lost among the maze of narrow streets in which I was wandering. I +asked the direction of one or two wayfarers, but these were all men of +the labouring class, and their instructions, given in the provincial +patois, were quite unintelligible to me. +</P> + +<P> +A man was coming up the street behind me, and I turned to question him, +but as I decreased my pace, he diminished his also, and when I +quickened mine, he went faster as well. I began to have an uneasy +sense that he might be following me, and accordingly hastened onward +until I came to a road which seemed to lead up the hill toward the +ramparts. +</P> + +<P> +The château now stood some distance upon my left, but once I had +reached the summit of the cliff it would only be a short walk away. +</P> + +<P> +The road, however, led me into a blind alley, the farther extremity +being the base of the cliff; but another street emerged from it at a +right angle, and I plunged into this, believing that any of the byways +would eventually take me to the top of the acclivity. +</P> + +<P> +As I entered this street I heard the footsteps behind me quicken and, +looking around, perceived that the man was close upon me. He stopped +at the moment I did and disappeared in a small court. +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing remarkable in this, only to my straining eyes he +seemed to bear a resemblance to the man with the patch whom I had +encountered at the corner of Sixth Avenue on that night when I met +Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +I knew from Leroux's statement to me that the man had been a member of +his gang. I was quite able to take care of myself under normal +circumstances. +</P> + +<P> +But now—I was afraid. The mighty cliff before me, the silence of the +deserted alleys in which I wandered helplessly, the thought of +Jacqueline alone, waiting anxiously for my return, almost unmanned me. +I felt like a hunted man, and my safety, upon which her own depended, +attained an exaggerated importance in my mind. +</P> + +<P> +So I almost ran forward into the byway which seemed to lead toward the +summit, and as I did so I heard the footsteps close behind me again. +</P> + +<P> +I had entered one of the narrowest streets I had ever seen, and the +most curious. It was just wide enough to admit the passage of a sleigh +perhaps; the crumbling and dilapidated old houses, which seemed +deserted, were connected overhead by a succession of wooden bridges, +and those on my left were built into the solid rock, which rose sheer +overhead. +</P> + +<P> +In front of me the alley seemed to widen. I almost ran; but when I +reached it I found that it was merely a bend in the passage, and the +alley ran on straight as before. +</P> + +<P> +On my left hand was a tiny unfenced courtyard, not more than six yards +in area, and I turned into this quickly and waited. I was confident +that the bend in the street had hidden me from my pursuer and, as I +anticipated, he came on at a swifter rate. +</P> + +<P> +He was abreast of me when I put out my hand and grasped him by the +coat, while with the other I felt in my pocket for my automatic pistol. +</P> + +<P> +It was not there. I had left it in the pocket of the overcoat which I +had changed at the furrier's shop and had sent to the château. And I +was looking into the villainous face of the ruffian who had knocked me +down on Sixth Avenue. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you following me for?" I cried furiously. +</P> + +<P> +He wrenched himself out of my grasp and pulled a long knife from his +pocket. I caught him by the wrist, and we wrestled to and fro upon the +snow. He pummelled me about the face with his free hand, but though I +was no match for him in strength, he could not get the knife from me. +The keen steel slashed my fingers, but the thought of Jacqueline helped +me. +</P> + +<P> +I got his hand open, snatched the knife, and flung it far away among +the stunted shrubs that clung to the cliffside. And we stood watching +each other, panting. +</P> + +<P> +He did not try to attack me again, but stood just out of my reach, +grinning diabolically at me. His gaze shifted over my shoulder. +Instinctively I swung around as the dry snow crackled behind me. +</P> + +<P> +I was a second too late, for I saw nothing but the looming figure of a +second ruffian and his upraised arm; then painless darkness seemed to +enfold me, and I was conscious of plunging down into a fathomless abyss. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CAPTAIN DUBOIS +</H3> + + +<P> +Clang! Clang! +</P> + +<P> +It sounded as though some titanic blacksmith were pounding on a mighty +anvil to a devil's chorus of laughter. And I was bound to the steel, +and each blow awakened hideous echoes which went resounding through my +brain forever. +</P> + +<P> +Clang! Clang! +</P> + +<P> +The blows were rhythmical, and there was a perceptible interval between +each one and the next; they were drawn out and intolerably slow, and +seemed to have lasted through uncountable eons. +</P> + +<P> +I strove to free myself. I knew that it was a dream from which I must +awaken, for the fate of the whole world depended on my awakening from +the bonds of sleep. +</P> + +<P> +It would be so easy to sink down into a deeper slumber, where even the +clanging of the anvil beneath those hammer strokes would not longer be +heard; but against this was the imperative need to save—not the world +now, but—— +</P> + +<P> +The name was as sweet as honey upon my lips. It was something worth +living for. It was—Jacqueline! +</P> + +<P> +The remembrance freed me. Dimly consciousness began to return. I knew +the hammering was my own heart, forcing the blood heavily through the +arteries of the brain. +</P> + +<P> +That name—Annette—Jeannette—Jacqueline! +</P> + +<P> +I had gone back to my rooms and saw a body upon the floor. Jacqueline +had killed somebody, and I must save her! +</P> + +<P> +All through the mist-wrapped borderland of life I heard her voice +crying to me, her need of me dragging me back to consciousness. I +struggled up out of the pit, and I saw light. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly I realized that my eyes were wide open and that I was staring +at the moon over the housetops. With consciousness came pain. My head +throbbed almost unbearably, and I was stiff with cold. I raised myself +weakly, and then I became aware that somebody was bending over me. +</P> + +<P> +It was a roughly dressed, rough-looking denizen of the low quarter into +which I had strayed. His arms were beneath my neck, raising my head, +and he was looking into my face with an expression of great concern +upon his own good-natured one. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you were dead!" I could make out amid the stream of his +dialect, but the remainder of his speech was beyond my understanding. +</P> + +<P> +"Help me!" I muttered, reaching for his hand. +</P> + +<P> +He understood the gesture, for he assisted me to my feet, and, after I +had leaned weakly against the wall of a house for a minute or two, I +found that I could stand unassisted. +</P> + +<P> +I looked round in bewilderment. +</P> + +<P> +"Where am I?" I asked, still bound by that first memory of New York. +</P> + +<P> +"In Sous-le-Cap, <I>m'sieur</I>," answered the man. +</P> + +<P> +I felt in my pocket for my watch and drew it out. It was strange that +the men had not robbed me, but I suppose they had become terrified at +their work and had run off. However, I did not think of that at the +time. +</P> + +<P> +I think my action was an automatic one, the natural refuge for a +perplexed man. But the sight of the time brought back my memory, and +the events of the day rushed back into my mind with a force that seemed +to send an accession of new strength through my limbs. +</P> + +<P> +It was a few minutes past eight. And the boat sailed at nine. I must +have lain stunned in Sous-le-Cap Street for an hour and a half, at +least, and only the supreme necessity of awakening, realized through +unconsciousness, had saved me from dying under the snows. +</P> + +<P> +I found that I could walk, and having explained to the man that I +wished to go to the château, was taken by him to the top of a winding +road near at hand, from which I could see my destination at no great +distance from me. +</P> + +<P> +Dismissing my friendly guide, and sending him back rejoicing with +liberal largesse, I hurried as quickly as I could make my way along the +ramparts, past the frowning, ancient cannon skirting the park, until I +burst into the château at half past the hour. +</P> + +<P> +I must have presented a dreadful spectacle, for my hair and collar were +matted with blood, and I saw the guests stare and shrink from me. The +clerk came toward me and stopped me at the entrance to the elevator. +</P> + +<P> +"Where as Miss Hewlett?" I gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't you meet her? She left here nearly an hour ago." +</P> + +<P> +I caught him by the arm, and I think he imagined that I was going to +seize him by the throat also, for he backed away from me, and I saw a +look of fear come into his eyes. The elevator attendant came running +between us. +</P> + +<P> +"Your friend——" he began. +</P> + +<P> +"My <I>friend</I>?" I cried. +</P> + +<P> +"He came for her and said that you had met with an accident," the clerk +continued. "She went with him at once. He took her away in a sleigh. +I was sure that you had missed her when you came in." +</P> + +<P> +But already I was half-way across the hall and running for the door. I +raced wildly across the court and toward the terrace. +</P> + +<P> +The meaning of the scheme was clear. Jacqueline was on Captain +Duhamel's boat, which sailed at nine. And only twenty minutes remained +to me. If I had not had the good luck to meet Dubois! +</P> + +<P> +I must have noticed a clock somewhere during the minute that I was in +the château, and though I had not been conscious of it, the after-image +loomed before my eyes. As I ran now I could see a huge phantom clock, +the dial marked with enormous Roman letters, and the hands moving with +dreadful swiftness toward the hour of nine. +</P> + +<P> +I had underestimated Leroux's shrewdness. He must have telegraphed +instructions from New York before my train was out of the county, +secured the boat, laid his plans during his journey northward, and had +me struck down while Jacqueline was stolen from my care. And he had +spared no details, even to enlisting the aid of Père Antoine. +</P> + +<P> +If he had known that my destination was the same as his, he might have +waited. But it was not the character of the man to wait, any more than +it was to participate personally in his schemes. He worked through +others, sitting back and pulling the strings, and he struck, each blow +on time. +</P> + +<P> +I ought to have known that. I should have read him better. I had +always dawdled. I trusted to the future, instead of acting. What +chance had I against a mind like his? +</P> + +<P> +I was a novice at chess, pitting myself against a master at the game. +</P> + +<P> +I must have been running aimlessly up and down the terrace, blindly +searching for a road down to the lower town, for a man seized me by the +sleeve, and I looked into the face of the hotel clerk again. He seemed +to realize that more was the matter even than my appearance indicated, +for he asked no questions, but apparently divined my movements. +</P> + +<P> +"This way!" he said, and hurried me to a sort of subway entrance, and +down a flight of steps. Before me I saw the turnstile which led to a +cable railway. He paid my fare and thrust me into a car. A boy came +to close the latticed door. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" I gasped. "Who was it that called?" +</P> + +<P> +"The man with the mustache who asked for you—about whom you inquired." +</P> + +<P> +I turned away. I had thought it was Leroux. Of course it had not been +he. +</P> + +<P> +The car glided down the cliff, and stopped a few seconds later, I +emerged through another turnstile and found myself in the lower town +again at the foot of the precipice, above which rose the château with +its imposing façade, the ramparts, and the towering citadel. +</P> + +<P> +The hands of the phantom clock pointed to ten minutes of nine. But I +knew the gulf lay before me at the end of the short, narrow street that +led down to it, up which I had passed two hours before upon that +journey which so nearly ended in the snow-drifts of Souse-le-Cap. +</P> + +<P> +I reached the wharf and raced along the planks. I was in time, +although the engines were throbbing in the <I>Sainte-Vierge</I>. But it was +not she, but the dark <I>Claire</I> I sought at that moment, and I dashed +toward her. +</P> + +<P> +A man barred my approach. He caught me in his strong arms and held me +fast. I dash my fists against his face, but he would not let me go. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you mad, <I>monsieur</I>?" he burst out as I continued to struggle. +And then I recognized my captor as Captain Dubois. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline is on the <I>Claire</I>!" I cried, trying to make him +understand. "They took her there. They——" +</P> + +<P> +"It is all right," answered Dubois, holding me with one hand, while +with the other he wiped a blood drop from his lip where I had struck +him. "It is all right. I have her." +</P> + +<P> +I stared wildly at him. "She is on the <I>Claire</I>!" I cried again. +</P> + +<P> +"No, <I>mon ami</I>. She is aboard the <I>Sainte-Vierge</I>," replied Dubois, +chuckling, "and if you wish to accompany <I>mademoiselle</I> you must come +with me at once, for we are getting up steam." +</P> + +<P> +I could not believe him. I thought that Leroux had tampered with the +honest man. It was not until he had taken me, half forcibly, aboard, +and opened the cabin door, that I saw her. She was seated upon her +berth, and she rose and came toward me with a glad little cry. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline!" I cried, and clasped her in my arms for joy, and quite +forgot. +</P> + +<P> +A dancing shadow fell upon the wall behind the oil-lamp. The honest +captain was rubbing his hands in the doorway and chuckling with delight. +</P> + +<P> +"It is all right, it is all right; excuse me, <I>monsieur</I>," he said, and +closed the door on us. But I called him, and he returned, not very +reluctantly. +</P> + +<P> +"What has happened, captain?" I asked. "You are not going to leave me +in suspense?" +</P> + +<P> +"But what has happened to you, <I>monsieur</I>?" he asked, with great +concern, as he saw the blood on my coat-collar, "You have met with an +accident?" +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline cried out and ran for water, and made me sit down, and began +bathing my head. I contrived to whisper something of what had occurred +during the moments when Jacqueline flitted to and fro. Dubois swore +roundly. +</P> + +<P> +"It is my fault, <I>monsieur</I>," he said. "I should have known. I should +have accompanied you home. It would be a tough customer who would +venture to meddle with Alfred Dubois! But I was anxious to get to the +telegraph office to inform M. Danton of your coming. And I suspected +something, too, for I knew that Leroux had something more in his mind +than simply to convey some of his men to St. Boniface at such expense. +</P> + +<P> +"So as soon as I had finished telegraphing I hurried home and bade +adieu to Marie and the little Madeline and the two nephews, and then I +came back to the boat—and that part I shall tell you later, for +<I>mademoiselle</I> knows nothing of the plot against her, and has been +greatly distressed for you. So it shall be understood that you fell +down and hurt your head on the ice—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +I agreed to this. "But what did she think?" I asked, as Jacqueline +went back for some more water. +</P> + +<P> +"That you had sent her to the <I>Sainte-Vierge</I>," he answered, "and that +you were to follow her here—as you did. Even now the nephews are +searching the lower town for you." +</P> + +<P> +"But if I had not come before nine?" +</P> + +<P> +"I should have waited all night, <I>monsieur</I>, even though I had lost my +post for it," he said explosively, and I reached out and gripped his +hand. +</P> + +<P> +"You may not have seen the baggage here," continued the captain slyly. +</P> + +<P> +I glanced round me. Upon the floor stood the two suit-cases, which +should have been in our rooms in the château, and Jacqueline was busily +tearing up some filmy material in hers for bandages. +</P> + +<P> +I looked at Dubois in astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, <I>monsieur</I>, I sent for those," he said, "and paid your bill also. +When I fight Simon Leroux I do not do things by halves. You see, +<I>monsieur</I>, wise though he is, there are other minds equal to his own, +and since he killed my brother, I——" +</P> + +<P> +Here he nearly broke down, and I looked discreetly away. +</P> + +<P> +"One question of curiosity, <I>monsieur</I>, if it is permissible," he said +a little later. "Why does Leroux wish so much to stop your marriage +with <I>mademoiselle</I> that he is ready to stoop to assassination and +kidnapping?" +</P> + +<P> +My heart felt very warm toward the good man. I knew how that loose end +in the romance that he had built up troubled him. And, though I hardly +knew myself, I must give him some satisfactory solution of his problem. +</P> + +<P> +"Because he is himself in love with her," I said. +</P> + +<P> +The captain clenched his fists. "God forbid!" he muttered. "They say +his wife died of a broken heart. Ah, <I>monsieur</I>, swear to me that this +shall never come about, that mademoiselle become his wife. Swear it to +me, <I>mon ami</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +I swore it, and we shook hands again. I was sorry for my deception +then, and afterward I had occasion to remember it. +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes later we had cast off, and the <I>Sainte-Vierge</I> steamed +slowly through the drift ice that packed the gulf. There were no +lights upon the <I>Claire</I>, and I surmised that the conspirators were +keeping quietly hidden in expectation of Jacqueline's arrival, though +how Dubois had outwitted them I could not at the time surmise. +</P> + +<P> +However, there was little doubt that once the trick was discovered the +<I>Claire</I> would follow on our heels. +</P> + +<P> +Standing on deck, I watched the lights of Levis and Quebec draw +together as we steamed eastward. I cast a last look at the château and +the ramparts. I felt it would be many days before I set eyes on them +again. +</P> + +<P> +Then I sought my cabin and fell asleep, dreaming of Jacqueline. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DREAMS OF THE NIGHT +</H3> + + +<P> +Jacqueline and I were together, the only human beings within a score of +miles. We were seated side by side in the sleigh at which the dogs +pulled steadily. +</P> + +<P> +We glided with slow, easy monotony along the snow-covered trail, +through the sparse forest that fringed the ice-bound waters of the +Rivière d'Or. Seen through our tinted snow-glasses, the landscape was +a vast field of palest blue, dotted with scattered clusters of spruce +and pine trees. +</P> + +<P> +The mystery of Jacqueline's rescue by Captain Dubois had been a simple +one. The young man with the mustache was a certain Philippe Lacroix, +well known to Dubois, a member of a good family, but of dissolute +habits—just such a one as Leroux found it convenient to attach to his +political fortunes by timely financial aid. +</P> + +<P> +Having acquired power over him, Leroux was in this way enabled to +obtain political influence through his family connections. +</P> + +<P> +There was no doubt that he had been in New York with Leroux, and that +they had hatched the plot to kidnap Jacqueline after I had been struck +down. +</P> + +<P> +Fortunately for us, Lacroix, ignorant, as was Leroux himself, that the +two ships had exchanged roles and duties, took Jacqueline aboard the +<I>Sainte-Vierge</I>, where Captain Dubois, who was waiting in anticipation +of just such a scheme, seized him and marched him at pistol point to +the house on Paul Street, in which Lacroix was kept a prisoner by +friends of Dubois until the <I>Sainte-Vierge</I> had sailed. +</P> + +<P> +The gulf was fairly free from ice, and our journey to St. Boniface, +where we arrived on the fifth morning after our departure from Quebec, +had been an uneventful one. We had not seen the smoke of the <I>Claire</I> +behind us at any period during the voyage, and Dubois had not spared +his coal to show the other vessel his heels. +</P> + +<P> +He left us at St. Boniface with a final caution against Leroux, and +proceeded along the shore with his bags of mail; but first he had a +satisfactory conversation with M. Danton concerning us. +</P> + +<P> +I had given Dubois to understand that Jacqueline had been ill. I was +apprehensive that he might question her and so discover her mental +state; but the good man readily understood that an elopement causes +much mental anguish in the case of the feminine party—at least this +supposition was in line with the romantic requirements of the case, +according to all the books that the captain had ever read; and he +leaped at the hypothesis. +</P> + +<P> +He not only forbore to question Jacqueline, but he explained the +situation to Danton, a friendly but taciturn old man who kept the store +and post-office at St. Boniface. +</P> + +<P> +Danton, who of course knew Jacqueline, took the opportunity of assuring +me that her father, though a recluse and a misanthrope who had not left +his seigniory for forty years, was said to be a man of heart, and would +undoubtedly forgive us. He was clearly under the impression that we +were married, and, since Dubois had not enlightened him on this point, +I did not do so. +</P> + +<P> +In fact, his ignorance again aroused in me elusive hopes—for if a +marriage <I>had</I> occurred would he not have known, of it? At any rate, I +should know soon; and with this reflection I had to console myself. +</P> + +<P> +Since Jacqueline was supposed to know the route, I could ask no direct +questions; but I gathered that the <I>château</I> lay about a hundred and +twenty miles north-westward. For the first part of the journey we were +to travel along the right bank of the Rivière d'Or; at the point where +the mountains began there were some trappers' huts, and there doubtless +I could gain further information. +</P> + +<P> +M. Danton had his sleigh and eight fine-looking dogs ready for us. I +purchased these outright in order to carry no hostages. We took with +us several days' supply of food, a little tent, sleeping-bags, and +frozen fish for the animals. +</P> + +<P> +I must record that a small wharf was in course of construction, and +that the contractor's sign read: "Northern Exploitation Company." M. +Danton informed me that this was a lumber company which had already +begun operations, and that the establishment of its camps accounted for +the absence of inhabitants. +</P> + +<P> +In fact, our arrival was almost unobserved, and two hours afterward we +had set forth upon our journey. +</P> + +<P> +I wondered what Jacqueline remembered. Vague and unquiet thoughts +seemed to float up into her mind, and she sat by my side silent and +rather sad. I think she was afraid of the knowledge that was to come +to her. +</P> + +<P> +God knows I was, and for this reason was resolved to ask no questions +unless they should become necessary. Whether or not she even knew the +route I had no means of discovering. +</P> + +<P> +The sun shone brightly; the air, intensely cold, chilled our faces, but +could not penetrate our furs. Sometimes we rubbed each other's cheeks +with snow when they grew threateningly white, laughing to see the blood +rush to the under surface of the skin, and jested about our journey to +drive away our fears. +</P> + +<P> +And it was wonderful. It was as though we were the first man and woman +in the world, wandering in our snow-garden, and still lost in amazement +at each other. The prospect of meeting others of our kind began to be +a fantastic horror to me. +</P> + +<P> +We were happy with each other. If we could travel forever thus! I +watched her beautiful, serene face; the brown hair, brought low over +the ears to guard them against the cold; the big grey eyes that were +turned upon mine sometimes in puzzled wonder, but very real content. +</P> + +<P> +I held her small gloved hand inside the big sable muff, and we would +sit thus for hours in silence while the dogs picked their way along the +trail. When I looked back I could see the tiny pad-prints stretching +away toward the far horizon, an undeviating black blur upon the +whiteness of the snow. +</P> + +<P> +It was a strange situation. It might easily have become an impossible +one. But it was a sacred comradeship, refined above the love of friend +for friend, or lover for lover, by her faith, her helplessness, and +need. +</P> + +<P> +We tried so hard to be merry. When we had fed the dogs at noon and +eaten our meal we would strap on the <I>raquettes</I>, the snow-shoes with +which Danton had furnished us, and travel over the crusted drifts +beside the stream. We ran out on the surface of the river and made +snowballs, and pelted each other, laughing like school children. +</P> + +<P> +But after the journey had begun once more we would sit quietly beside +each other, and for long we would hardly utter a word. +</P> + +<P> +I think that she liked best to sit beside me in the narrow sleigh and +lean against my shoulder, her physical weariness the reflection of her +spiritual unrest. She did not want to think, and she wanted me to +shield her. +</P> + +<P> +But even in this solitude fear drove me on, for I knew that a +relentless enemy followed hard after us, camping where we had camped +and reading the miles between us by the smouldering ashes of our old +fires. +</P> + +<P> +At nightfall I would pitch the tent for Jacqueline and place her +sleeping-bag within, and while she slept I would lie by the huge fire +near the dogs, and we kept watch over her together. +</P> + +<P> +So passed three days and nights. +</P> + +<P> +The fourth short day drew toward its end a little after four o'clock. +I remember that we camped late, for the sun had already dipped to the +level horizon and was casting black, mile-long shadows across the snow. +</P> + +<P> +A whistling wind came up. The dogs had been showing signs of distress +that afternoon, pulling us more and more reluctantly, and walking with +drooping ears and muzzles depressed. +</P> + +<P> +I hammered in the pegs and built a fire with dry boughs, collecting a +quantity of wood sufficient to last until morning. Then Jacqueline +made tea, and we ate our supper and crept into our sleeping-bags and +lay down. +</P> + +<P> +"Three more days, dear, at most, and our journey and our troubles will +all be at an end," I had said. "Let us be happy together while we have +each other, and when our mutual need is past I shall stay with you +until you send me away." +</P> + +<P> +"That will never be, Paul," she answered simply. "But I shall be happy +with you while our day lasts." +</P> + +<P> +And I thought of the text: "For soon the long night cometh." +</P> + +<P> +I lay outside the tent, trying to sleep; but could not still my mind. +The uncertainty ahead of us, the knowledge of Leroux behind, tried me +sorely, and only Jacqueline's need sustained my courage. +</P> + +<P> +As I was on the point of dropping asleep I heard a lone wolf howl from +afar, and instantly the pack took up the cry. One of the dogs, a +great, tawny beast who led them, crept toward me and put his head down +by mine, whimpering. The rest roamed ceaselessly about the fire, +answering the wolf's challenge with deep, wolf-like baying. +</P> + +<P> +I drew my pistols from the pockets of my fur coat. It was pleasant to +handle them. They gave me assurance. We were two fugitives in a land +where every man's hand might be against us, but at least I had the +means to guard my own. +</P> + +<P> +And looking at them, I began to yield to that temptation which had +assailed me ceaselessly, both at Quebec and since we left St. Boniface, +not to yield up Jacqueline, never to let her go. +</P> + +<P> +Why should I bear the yoke of moral laws here in this wilderness, with +our pursuing enemy behind—a day's journey perhaps—but leaving me only +a breathing spell, a resting space, before I must fight for Jacqueline? +Or when her own had abandoned her? +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline glided out of the tent and knelt beside me, putting her arms +about the dog's neck and her head upon its furry coat. The dogs loved +her, and she seemed always to understand their needs. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul, there is something wrong with them," she said, her hand still +caressing the mane of the great beast, who looked at her with pathetic +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +I had noticed that they did not eat that night, but had imagined that +they would do so later when they had recovered from their fatigue. +</P> + +<P> +"What is wrong with them, Jacqueline?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +She raised her head and looked sadly at me. "It is I, Paul," she +answered. +</P> + +<P> +"You, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is I!" she cried with sudden, passionate vehemence. "It is +<I>I</I> who am wrong and have brought trouble on you. Paul, I do not even +know how you came into my life, nor who I am, nor anything that +happened to me at any time before you brought me to Quebec, except that +my home is there." She pointed northward. "Who am I? Jacqueline, you +say. The name means nothing to me. I am a woman without a past or +future, a shadow that falls across your life, Paul. And I could +perhaps remember, but I know—I <I>know</I>—that I must never remember." +</P> + +<P> +She began weeping wildly. I surmised that she must have been under an +intense strain for days. I had not dreamed that this girl who walked +by my side and paid me the tribute of her docile faith suffered and +knew. +</P> + +<P> +I took her hand in mine. "Dear Jacqueline," I answered, "it is best to +forget these things until the time comes to remember them. It will +come, Jacqueline. Let us be happy till then. You have been ill, and +you have had great trouble. That is all. I am taking you home. Do +you not remember anything about your home, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +She clapped her hands to her head and gave a little terrified cry. +</P> + +<P> +"I—think—so," she murmured. "But I dare not remember, Paul. +</P> + +<P> +"I have dreamed of things," she went on in agitated, rapid tones, "and +then I have seemed to remember everything. But when I wake I have +forgotten, and it is because I know that I must forget. Paul, I dream +of a dead man, and men who hate and are following us. Was +there—ever—a dead man, Paul?" she asked, shuddering. +</P> + +<P> +"No, dear Jacqueline," I answered stoutly. "Those dreams are lies." +</P> + +<P> +She still looked hopelessly at me, and I knew she was not quite +convinced. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it was not true, Paul?" she asked pleadingly, gathering each word +upon each indrawn breath. +</P> + +<P> +I placed one arm around her. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline, there never was any dead man," I said. "It is not true. +Some day I will tell you everything—some day——" +</P> + +<P> +I broke off helplessly, for my voice failed me, I was so shaken. I +knew that at last I was conquered by the passion that possessed me, +long repressed, but not less strong for its repression. I caught her +in my arms. +</P> + +<P> +"I love you, Jacqueline!" I cried. "And you—you?" +</P> + +<P> +She thrust her hands out and turned her face away. There was an awful +fear upon it. "Paul," she cried, "there is—somebody—who—— +</P> + +<P> +"I have known that," she went on in a torrent of wild words. "I have +known that always, and it is the most terrible part of all!" +</P> + +<P> +I laid a finger on her lips. +</P> + +<P> +"There is nobody, Jacqueline," I said again, trying to control my +trembling voice. "He was another delirium of the night, a fantom of +your illness, dear. There was never anybody but me, and there shall +never be. For to-morrow we shall turn back toward St. Boniface again, +and we shall take the boat for Quebec—and from there I shall take you +to a land where there shall be no more grief, neither——" +</P> + +<P> +I broke off suddenly. What had I said? My words—why, the devil had +been quoting Scripture again! The bathos of it! My sacred task +forgotten and honour thrown to the winds, and Jacqueline helpless +there! I hung my head in misery and shame. +</P> + +<P> +But very sweetly she raised hers and spoke to me. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul, dear, if there never was anyone—if it is nothing but a +dream——" Here she looked at me with doubtful scrutiny in her eyes, +and then hastened to make amends for doubting me. "Of course, Paul, if +there had been you could not have known. But though I know my heart is +free—if there was nobody—why, let us go forward to my father's home, +because there will be no cause there to separate us, my dear. So let +us go on." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, let us go on," I muttered dully. +</P> + +<P> +But when the issue came I knew that I would let no man stand between us. +</P> + +<P> +"And some day I am going to tell you everything I know, and you shall +tell me," she said. "But to-night we have each other, and will not +think of unhappy things—nor ever till the time comes." +</P> + +<P> +She leaned back against my shoulder and held out her hands to the +fire-light. She had taken off her left glove, and now again I saw the +wedding-ring upon her finger. +</P> + +<P> +She was asleep. I drew her head down on my knees and spread my coat +around her, and let her rest there. She was happy again in sleep, as +her nature was to be always. But, though I held her as she held my +heart, my soul seemed dead, and I waited sleepless and heard only the +whining of the heavy wind and scurry of the blown snow. +</P> + +<P> +The wolf still howled from afar, but the dogs only whimpered in answer +among the trees, where they had withdrawn. +</P> + +<P> +At last I raised her in my arms and carried her inside the tent. She +did not waken, but only stirred and murmured my name drowsily. I stood +outside the tent and listened to her soft breathing. +</P> + +<P> +How helpless she was! How trusting! +</P> + +<P> +That turned the battle. I loved her madly, but never again dare I +breathe a word of love to her so long as that shadow obscured her mind. +But if sunlight succeeded shadow—— +</P> + +<P> +The fire had sunk to a heap of red-grey ashes. I piled on fresh +boughs till the embers caught flame again and the bright spears danced +under the pines. The reek of smoking pine logs is in my nostrils yet. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FUNGUS +</H3> + + +<P> +My rest was miserable. In a succession of brief dreams I fled with +Jacqueline over a wilderness of ice, while in the distance, ever +drawing nearer, followed Leroux, Lacroix, and Père Antoine. I heard +Jacqueline's despairing cries as she was torn from me, while my +weighted arms, heavier than lead, drooped helplessly at my sides, and +from afar Simon mocked me. +</P> + +<P> +Then ensued a world without Jacqueline, a dead eternity of ice and snow. +</P> + +<P> +I must have fallen sound asleep at last, for when I opened my eyes the +sun was shining brightly low down over the Rivière d'Or. The door of +the tent stood open and Jacqueline was not inside. +</P> + +<P> +With the remembrance of my dream still confusing reality, I ran toward +the trees, shouting for her in fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" I called. +</P> + +<P> +She was coming toward me. She took me by the arm. "Paul!" she began +with quivering lips. "Paul!" +</P> + +<P> +She led me into the recesses of the pines. There, in a little open +place, clustered together upon the ground, were the bodies of our dogs. +All were dead, and the soft forms were frozen into the snow, which the +poor creatures had licked in their agony, so that their open jaws were +stuffed with icicles. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline sank down upon the ground and sobbed as though her heart +would break. I stood there watching, my brain paralyzed by the shock +of the discovery. +</P> + +<P> +Then I went back to the sleigh, on the rear of which the frozen fish +was piled. I noticed that it had a faint, slightly aromatic odor. I +flung the hard masses aside and scooped up a powdery substance with my +hands. +</P> + +<P> +Mycology had been a hobby of mine, and it was easy to recognize what +that substance was. +</P> + +<P> +It was the <I>amanita</I>, the deadliest and the most widely distributed of +the fungi, and the direst of all vegetable poisons to man and beast +alike. The alkaloid which it contains takes effect only some hours +after its ingestion, when it has entered the blood-streams and begun +its disintegrating action upon the red corpuscles. The dogs must have +partaken of it on the preceding afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline joined me. The tears were streaming down her cheeks; she +slipped her arm through mine and looked mutely at me. +</P> + +<P> +I knew this was Leroux's work. He had tricked me again. I had seen +clusters of the frozen fungus outside St. Boniface. I suppose that, +when winter comes suddenly, such growths remain standing till spring +thaws and rots them, retaining in the meanwhile all their noxious +qualities. +</P> + +<P> +It would have been an easy matter for one of Leroux's agents to have +cast a few handfuls of the deadly powder over the fish while the sleigh +stood waiting outside Danton's door, and the jolting of the vehicle +would have shaken the substance down into the middle of the heap, so +that it would be three or four days before the dogs got to the poisoned +fish. +</P> + +<P> +I was mad with anger. The white landscape seemed to swim before my +eyes. I meant to kill the man now, and without mercy. I would be as +unscrupulous as he. He would be in this place by the afternoon; I +would wait for him outside the trail. My pistols—— +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline was looking up into my face in terror. The sight of her +recalled me to my senses. Leroux afterward—first my duty to her! +</P> + +<P> +"Paul! What is the matter, Paul?" she cried. "I never saw you look +like that before." +</P> + +<P> +I calmed myself and led her away, and presently we were standing before +the fire again. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline," I said, "it is easier to go on than to turn back now." +</P> + +<P> +She watched me like a lip-reader. "Yes, Paul; let us go on," she +answered. +</P> + +<P> +So we went on. But our journey was to be very different now. There +was no possibility of taking much baggage with us. We took a few +things out of our suit-cases and disposed them about us as best they +could. +</P> + +<P> +The heavy sleeping-bags would have made our progress, encumbered as we +were with our fur coats, too slow; but I had hopes that we would reach +the trappers' huts that afternoon, and so decided to discard them in +favour of the fur-lined sleigh-rug, which would, at least, keep +Jacqueline warm. +</P> + +<P> +So we strapped on our snow-shoes, and I made a pack and put three days' +supplies of food in it and fastened it on my shoulders, securing it +with two straps from the harness. I rolled the rug into a bundle and +tied it below the pack; and thus equipped, we left the dead beasts and +the useless sleigh behind us for Leroux's satisfaction, and set out +briskly upon our march. +</P> + +<P> +It is a strange thing, but no sooner had I passed out of sight of the +sleigh than, weighted though I was, I felt my spirits rising rapidly. +The freedom of movement and the exhilarating air gave my mind a new +sense of liberty, and Jacqueline, who had been watching me anxiously, +seeing the gloom disappear from my face, tried, first to tempt me to +mirth, and then to match me in it. Sometimes we would run a little +way, and then we would fall back into our steady, ambling plod once +more. +</P> + +<P> +The cold was less intense, but, looking at the sky, which was heavily +overcast, I knew that the rise in temperature betokened the advent of a +heavy fall of snow, probably before night. +</P> + +<P> +We were merrier than at any previous time, having by tacit agreement +resolved to put our troubles behind us. Jacqueline laughed gaily at my +clumsy attempts to avoid tripping myself upon my snow-shoes. +</P> + +<P> +We stopped to look at the trees and the traces of deer-croppings upon +the bark. Sometimes we took to the river-bed, and then again we paced +among the trees, which were now becoming so sparsely scattered that the +trail was hardly discernible. This caused me no concern, however, for +I believed that when we reached the huts, we should be able to obtain +certain information as to the remainder of our course. +</P> + +<P> +And though I knew that Leroux was behind, and that he would press +forward the more impetuously when he discovered the success of his +deadly ruse, I did not seem to care. Above me was the pale sun, the +glow of health was in my limbs—and beside me walked Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +We must have covered at least a dozen miles or more at the time, when +we stopped for a brief midday meal. I was a little fatigued from +carrying the pack, and my ankles ached from the snow-shoes; but +Jacqueline, who had evidently been accustomed to their use, was as +fresh as when she started. +</P> + +<P> +I was glad of the respite; but we needed to press on. It was probable +that Simon would camp by our dismantled sleigh that night. +</P> + +<P> +When we resumed our march the character of the country began to change. +Hitherto we had been traversing an almost interminable plain, but now a +ridge of jagged mountains, bare at their peaks and fringed around the +base with evergreens, appeared in the distance. The sky became more +leaden. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly we emerged from among the trees upon an almost barren plateau, +and there again we halted for a breathing spell. +</P> + +<P> +All that morning I had been looking for the trappers' huts. I had +already come to the conclusion that M. Danton's instructions were to be +taken by and large, for we could not now be more than twenty-five miles +from the château, and it was only here that the Rivière d'Or left us, +whirling in quick cascades, ice-free, among the rocks of its narrow +bed, some distance east of us. +</P> + +<P> +There was, of course, the possibility that the distance had been +understated, and that we were only now half way. But I could not let +my mind dwell upon that possibility. +</P> + +<P> +I scanned the horizon on every side. It had seemed to me all that day +that our road was running up-hill, but now, looking back, I was +astonished to see how high we had ascended, for the whole of the vast +plain across which we had been travelling lay spread out like a +wrinkled table-cloth before my eyes. +</P> + +<P> +In that grey light, which shortened every distance, it almost seemed +that I could discern the slope of the St. Lawrence far away, and the +hills, foot-spurs of the mighty Laurentian range, that bordered it. +The mountains which we were approaching seemed quite near, and I knew +that beyond them lay the seigniory. +</P> + +<P> +I resolved to take my bearings still more accurately, and telling +Jacqueline to wait for me a few minutes at the base of a hill and +setting down my pack, I began the ascent alone. The climb was longer +than I had anticipated. My eyes were aching from the glare of the +snow. I had left my coloured glasses behind me in the tent and gone +on, saying nothing, though I had realized my loss when I was only a +mile or so away. +</P> + +<P> +However, I hoped that the night would restore my sight, and so, +dismissing the matter from my mind, I struggled up until at last I +stood upon the summit of the hill. +</P> + +<P> +The view from this point was a stupendous one. New peaks sprang into +vision, shimmering in the sunlight. Patches of dark forest stained the +whiteness of the land, and far away, like a thin, winding ribbon among +the hills, I saw the valley of the Rivière d'Or. +</P> + +<P> +I cried out in delight and lingered to enjoy the grandeur of the +spectacle. +</P> + +<P> +Beneath me I saw Jacqueline waiting, a tiny figure upon the snow. My +heart smote me with a deep sense of reproach that I had put her to so +much sacrifice. But I had seen the valley between those mountains, the +only possible entrance to that mysterious land. Nothing could fail us +now. +</P> + +<P> +I cast my eyes beyond her toward the mist-wrapped tops of the far +Laurentians and the plains. +</P> + +<P> +And a sense of an inevitable fate came over me as I perceived far away +a tiny, crawling ant upon the snows—Simon Leroux's dog sleigh. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +I went back to the little, patient figure that was waiting for me, and +I took up my pack again and told her nothing. She stepped bravely out +beside me, frozen, fatigued, but willing because I bade her. She did +not ask anything of me. +</P> + +<P> +The sun dipped lower, and far away I heard the howl of the solitary +wolf again. +</P> + +<P> +My mind had been working very fast during that journey down the hill, +and long before I reached Jacqueline I had resolved that she should +know nothing of the pursuit until the moment came when she must be told. +</P> + +<P> +That the pursuer was Leroux there could be no possible doubt. He had +evidently passed the sleigh, and was undoubtedly pressing forward, +elated and confident of our capture. But he must still be at least a +dozen miles away. +</P> + +<P> +He could not reach us that night and he could hardly travel by night. +We should have a half day's start of him in the morning. +</P> + +<P> +I gripped my pistols as we strode along. +</P> + +<P> +We went on and on. The afternoon was wearing away; the sun was very +low now and all its strength had gone. The wolf followed us, howling +from afar. Once I saw it across the treeless wastes—a gaunt, white, +dog-like figure, trotting against the steely grey of the sky. +</P> + +<P> +We ascended the last of the foot-hills before the trail dipped toward +the valley, which was guarded by two sentinel mountains of that jagged +ridge before us. From the top I looked back. Simon was nowhere to be +seen. +</P> + +<P> +"Courage, Jacqueline," I said, patting her arm, "The huts ought to be +here." +</P> + +<P> +Her courage was greater than my own. She looked up and smiled at me. +And so we descended and went on and on, and the sun dipped below the +edge of the world. +</P> + +<P> +The wolf crept nearer, and its howls rang out with piercing strokes +across the silence. My eyes ached so that I could hardly discern the +darkening land, and the snow came down, not steadily, but in swirling +eddies blown on fierce gusts of wind. +</P> + +<P> +And suddenly raising my eyes despairingly, I saw the huts. They stood +about four hundred yards away from where the trail ran through the +mountains. +</P> + +<P> +There were five of them, and they had not been occupied for at least +two seasons, for the blackened timbers were falling apart, and the +roofs had been torn off all but one of them, no doubt for fuel. The +wind was whirling the snow wildly around them, and it whistled through +the broken, rotting walls. +</P> + +<P> +I flung my pack inside the roofed one, and began tearing apart the +timbers of another to make a fire. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline stood looking at me in docile faith. +</P> + +<P> +"I can go on," she said quietly. "I can go on, Paul." +</P> + +<P> +I caught her hands in mine. "We shall stay here, Jacqueline," I said. +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer me, but, opening the pack, began the preparation of +our meal, which consisted of some biscuits left from the night before, +when we had made a quantity on the wood ashes. We made tea over the +roaring flames, and sat listening to the wolf's call and the wind that +drove our fire in gusts of smoke and flame. +</P> + +<P> +The wind grew fiercer. It was a hurricane. It drowned the wolf's +call; it almost silenced the sound of our own voices. Thank God that +we had at least our shelter in that storm. +</P> + +<P> +I scooped out a bed for Jacqueline inside the snow-filled hut and +spread it with the big sleigh robe. She lay down in her fur coat, and +I wrapped the ends around her. I looked into her sweet face and +marvelled at its serenity. Her eyes closed wearily. +</P> + +<P> +But, though I was as tired as she, I could not sleep. I crouched over +the fire, pondering over the morrow's acts. +</P> + +<P> +Should I wait for Leroux and shoot him down like a dog if he molested +us? Or should we hide among the hills and watch him pass by? But that +would avail us nothing. If we went on we must encounter him, and the +sooner the better. +</P> + +<P> +This problem and a fiercer one filled my mind, for my soul was as +storm-beset as the hut, whose planking shook under the gale's force. I +realized how incongruous my position was. +</P> + +<P> +I had no status at all. I was accompanying a run-away wife back to her +father's home, perhaps to meet her husband there. And whether Leroux +held me in his present power or not, inexorably I was heading for his +own objective. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SNOW BLINDNESS +</H3> + + +<P> +More madly now than ever I felt that fierce temptation. There she lay, +the one woman who had ever seriously come into my life, sleeping so +near to me that I could bend down and rest my hand on the inert form +over which the snow drifted so steadily. +</P> + +<P> +I brushed it away. I brooded over her. Why had I ever brought her on +that journey? Would that I had kept her, with all her love and +gentleness, for my delight. +</P> + +<P> +If I had taken her to Jamaica, where I had planned to go, instead of +engaging that mock-heroic odyssey—there, among palm trees, in an +eternal spring, there would have been no need that she should remember. +</P> + +<P> +I looked down on her. Again the snow covered her. +</P> + +<P> +It fell so inexorably. It was like Leroux. It was as tireless as he, +and as implacable as he. I brushed it away with frantic haste, and +still it drifted into the doorless hut. +</P> + +<P> +A dreadful fear held me in its grip: what if she never awoke? Some +people died thus in the snow. I raised the sleigh robe, and saw that +the fur coat stirred softly as she breathed. +</P> + +<P> +How gently she slept—as gently as she lived. How could her own have +abandoned her in her need? +</P> + +<P> +At last, out of the wild passions that fought within me, decision was +born. I would go on, because she had bidden me. And I would be ready +for Leroux, and let him act as he saw fit. I loaded my pistols. I +could do no more than fight for Jacqueline, and with God be the issue. +</P> + +<P> +And with that determination I grew calm. And I sat over the fire and +let my imagination stray toward some future when our troubles would be +in the past and we should be together. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul!" +</P> + +<P> +I must have been half asleep, for I came back to myself with a start +and sprang to my feet. Jacqueline had risen upon her knees; she flung +her arms out wildly, and suddenly she caught her breath and screamed, +and stood up, and ran uncertainly toward me, with hands that groped for +me. +</P> + +<P> +She found me; I caught her, and she pushed me from her and shuddered +and stared at me in that uncertain doubt that follows dreams. +</P> + +<P> +"I am here, Jacqueline," I said. "With you—always, till you send me +away. Remember that even in dreams, Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +She knew me now, and she was recoiling from me, out through the hut +door, into the blinding snow. I sprang after her. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! It is I—Paul! It is Paul! Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +She was running from me and screaming in the snow. I heard her +moccasins breaking through the thin ice crust. And, mad with terror, I +rushed after her. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! It is Paul!" I cried. +</P> + +<P> +And as I emerged from the hut's shelter a red-hot glare from the east +seemed to sear and kill my vision. It was the rising sun. I had +thought it night, and it was already day. And I could see nothing +through my swollen eyelids except the white light of the shining snow. +The wind howled round me, and though the sun shone, the snowflakes +stung my face like hail. +</P> + +<P> +I did not know under the influence of what dread dream she was. But I +ran wildly to and fro, calling her, and now and again I heard the sound +of her little moccasins as she plunged through the knee-high snow. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes I seemed to be so near that I could almost touch her hand, +and once I heard her panting breath behind me; but I never caught her. +And never once did she answer me. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it? What is it?" I pleaded madly. "Jacqueline, don't you +know me? Don't you remember me?" +</P> + +<P> +The sound of the moccasins far away, and then the whine of the wind +again. I did not know where the huts were now. I could see nothing +but a yellow glare. And fear of Leroux came on me and turned my heart +to water. I stood still, listening, like a hunted stag. There came no +sound. +</P> + +<P> +It was horrible, in that wild waste, alone. I tried to gather my +scattered senses together. +</P> + +<P> +Eastward, I know, the river lay, and that blinding brightness came from +the east. Southward a little distance, was the hill that we had last +ascended on the evening before. I could discern the merest outlines of +the land, but I fancied that I could see that it sloped upward toward +the south. +</P> + +<P> +I set off in the direction of the hill, and soon I found myself +climbing. The elevation hid the sun, and this enabled me to glimpse my +surroundings dimly, as through a heavy veil. +</P> + +<P> +I called once more, and then I was scrambling up the hill, stumbling +and falling on the ice-coated boulders. My coat was open, and the wind +cut like a knife-edge, but I did not notice it. Perhaps from the +hill-top I should see her. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" I screamed frantically. +</P> + +<P> +No answer came. I had gained the summit now, and round me I saw the +shadowy outlines of the snow-covered rocks, but five or six feet from +me a deep, impenetrable grey wall obscured everything. I tried to peer +down into the valley, and saw nothing but the same fog there. Once +more I called. +</P> + +<P> +A dog barked suddenly, not far away, and through the mist I heard the +slide of sleigh-runners on snow; and then I knew. +</P> + +<P> +I scrambled down, slipping, and gashing my hands upon the rocks and +ice. At the foot of the hill I saw two straight and narrow lines on +the soft snow. They were the tracks of sleigh-runners. +</P> + +<P> +I followed them, sobbing, and catching my breath, and screaming: +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +Then I heard Simon's voice, and with the sound of it my dream came back +with prophetic clearness. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Bonjour,</I> M. Hewlett!" he called mockingly. "This way! This way!" +</P> + +<P> +I turned and rushed blindly in the direction of the cry. I had left my +snow-shoes behind me in the hut, and at each step my feet broke through +the crusted snow, so that I floundered and fell like a drunken man to +choruses of taunts and laughter. +</P> + +<P> +It was a horrible blindman's bluff, for they had surrounded me, yelling +from every quarter. +</P> + +<P> +"This way, <I>monsieur</I>! This way!" piped a thin, voice which I knew to +be Philippe Lacroix. +</P> + +<P> +A snowball struck me on the chin, and they began pelting me and +laughing. I was like a baited bear. I was beside myself with rage and +helpless fury. The icy balls hit my face a dozen times; one struck me +behind the ear and hurled me down half stunned. +</P> + +<P> +I was up again and rushing at my unseen tormentors. I heard the +barking of the dogs far away, and I ran in the direction of the sound, +sobbing with rage. I pulled my pistols from my pockets and spun round, +firing in every direction through that wall of grey, yielding mist that +gave me place but never gave me vision. +</P> + +<P> +The clouds had obscured the sky and the snow was falling again. My +hands were bare and numb, except where the cold steel of the pistol +triggers seared my fingers like molten metal. +</P> + +<P> +They had formed a wider circle round me, and pistol range is longer +than snowball range, so that they struck me no more. I heard the +shouts and mockery still, but never Jacqueline's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, M. Hewlett, here!" piped Philippe Lacroix once more. +</P> + +<P> +Again I turned and rushed at him, firing shot after shot. I heard his +snow-shoes plodding across the crust, and yells from the others +indicated that Philippe's adventure had been a risky one. +</P> + +<P> +Then Simon called again and I turned, like a foolish, baited beast, and +fired at him. +</P> + +<P> +A dog barked once more, very far away, and at last I understood their +scheme. +</P> + +<P> +Doubtless Simon had reached the huts at dawn and had discovered us +there. He must have been in waiting, but when he saw Jacqueline run +from me he changed his plans and sent the sleigh after her. Then, +realizing from my actions that I was snow-blind, he had remained behind +with some of his followers to enjoy the sport of baiting me, and +incidentally to drive me out of the way while the sleigh went on. +</P> + +<P> +And now there was complete silence. He had accomplished his purpose. +He had gained all that he had to gain. Fortune had fought upon his +side, as always. +</P> + +<P> +But Jacqueline—— +</P> + +<P> +She had tried to escape me. She could not have been playing a +part—she was too transcendentally sincere. Something must have +occurred—some dream which had momentarily crazed her; and she had +confounded me with her persecutors. +</P> + +<P> +I could not think evil of her. I flung myself down in the snow and +gave way to abject misery. +</P> + +<P> +But hope is not readily overthrown. For her sake I resolved to pull +myself together. I did not now know whether Leroux was in front or +behind me, or upon either hand. +</P> + +<P> +I stood deep in the snow, a pistol in each hand, waiting. When he +called again I should make my last effort. +</P> + +<P> +But he called me no more. Once I heard the dog yelp, far up the +valley, and then there was only the soughing of the wind and the sting +of the driving sleet flakes. And the grey mist had closed in all about +me. I was alone in that storm-swept wilderness and there was no sun to +guide me. +</P> + +<P> +I saw a shadow at my feet, and stooping down, perceived that accident +had brought me back to the sleigh tracks. From the direction in which +the dog had howled, I judged that my course lay straight ahead as I was +standing. I started off wearily. At least it was better to walk than +to perish in the snow. +</P> + +<P> +But before many minutes had passed the realization of my loss stung me +into madness again, and I began to run. And, as I ran, I shouted, and, +shouting, I fired. +</P> + +<P> +I plunged along—half delirious, I believe, for I began to hear voices +on every side of me and to imagine I saw Simon standing, just out of +reach, a shadow upon the mist, taunting me. I followed him at an +undeviating distance, firing, reloading, and firing again. I was no +longer conscious of my progress. The fingers that pressed the triggers +of my pistols had no sensation in them, and in my imagination were +parts of a monstrous mechanism which I directed. My legs, too, felt +like stilts that somebody had strapped to my body, and, instead of +cold, a warm glow seemed to suffuse me. +</P> + +<P> +And while my helpless body stumbled along its route my mind was back in +New York. This was my apartment on Tenth Street, and Jacqueline sat +behind the curtains. I had dreamed of a long journey through a +snow-bound wilderness, but I had awakened and we were to start for +Jamaica by that day's boat. How dear she was! She raised her eyes, +full of trusting love, to mine, and I knew that there would never be +any parting until death. +</P> + +<P> +We sat beneath the palms, beside a sea that plunged against our little +island, and the air was fragrant with the scent of orange-blossoms, +carried upon the wind from the distant mainland. We were so happy +there—there was no need to think or to remember. I slept against her +shoulder. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Somebody was shaking me. +</P> + +<P> +"Get up!" he bellowed in my ear. "Get up! Do you want to die in the +snow?" +</P> + +<P> +I closed my eyes and sank back into a lethargy of sleep. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CHÂTEAU +</H3> + + +<P> +I had an indistinct impression of being carried for what seemed an +eternity upon the shoulders of my rescuer, and of clinging there +through the delirium that supervened. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes I thought I was on a camel's back, pursuing Jacqueline's +abductors through the hot sands of an Egyptian desert; sometimes I was +on shipboard, sinking in a tropical sea, beneath which amid the marl +and ooze of delta depositions, hideous, antediluvian creatures, with +faces like that of Leroux, writhed and stretched up their tentacles to +drag me down. +</P> + +<P> +Then I would be conscious of the cold and bitter wind again. But at +last there came a grateful sense of warmth and ease, followed by a +period of blank unconsciousness. +</P> + +<P> +When at last I opened my eyes it was late afternoon. Though they +pained me, I could now see with tolerable distinctness. +</P> + +<P> +I was lying upon a bed of dried balsam-leaves inside a little hut, and +through the half-open door I could see the sun just dipping behind the +mountains. Besides the bed the hut contained a roughly hewn table and +chair and a bookcase with a few books in it. Upon a wall hung a big +crucifix of wood, and under it an old man was standing. +</P> + +<P> +He heard me stir and came toward me. I recognized the massive +shoulders and commanding countenance of Père Antoine, and remembrance +came back to me. +</P> + +<P> +"Where am I?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"In my cabin, <I>monsieur</I>," answered the priest, standing at my side, an +inscrutable calm upon his face. +</P> + +<P> +"You saved me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Three days ago. You were dying in the snow. You had fired off your +pistols and had thrown your coat away. I had to carry you back and +find it. It is lucky that I found you, <I>monsieur</I>, or assuredly you +would soon have been dead. But for your dog——" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>My</I> dog!" I exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly, a dog came to me and brought me a mile out of my route to +where you were lying. But, now, come to think of it, it disappeared +and has not returned. Perhaps it was sent to me by <I>le bon Dieu</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Mlle. Duchaine?" I burst out. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, M. Hewlett," said the priest, looking at me severely, "that was a +wild undertaking of yours, and God does not prosper such schemes, +though I confess I do not understand why you were taking her to her +home. Rest assured she is in good hands. I met the sleigh containing +her, and M. Leroux informed me that all would be well. It is strange +that he did not speak of you, though, and I do not understand how——" +</P> + +<P> +"He stole her from me when I was snow-blind, and left me to die!" I +exclaimed. "I must rescue her——" +</P> + +<P> +Father Antoine laid a heavy hand upon my shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Be assured, <I>monsieur</I>, that <I>madame</I> is perfectly happy and contented +with her friends," he said. "And no doubt she has already regretted +her escapade. Did I not warn you in Quebec, <I>monsieur</I>, that your +enterprise would be brought to naught? And now you will doubtless be +glad of your lesson, and will abandon it willingly and return homeward. +I have to depart at daybreak upon an urgent mission a hundred miles +away, which was interrupted by your rescue; but I shall be back within +a week, by which time you will doubtless be able to accompany me to the +coast. Meanwhile, you will rest here, and my provisions and a few +books are at your disposal." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not!" I cried weakly. "I am going on to the <I>château</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +He looked at me steadily. +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot," he said. "If you attempt it you will perish by the way." +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot stop me!" I cried desperately. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps not, <I>monsieur</I>; nevertheless, you will not be able to reach +the <I>château</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you that you should stop me?" I exclaimed angrily. "You are a +priest, and your duty is with souls." +</P> + +<P> +"That is why," answered Père Antoine. "You are in pursuit of a married +woman." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know anything about that, but I am the protector of a +defenceless one," I answered, "and I shall seek her until she sends me +away. Do you know where her husband is?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, <I>monsieur</I>," answered the old man. "And you?" +</P> + +<P> +I burst into an impassioned appeal to him. I told him of Leroux and +his conspiracy to obtain possession of the property, of my encounter +with Jacqueline, and how I had rescued her, omitting mention of course +of the murder. +</P> + +<P> +As I went on I could see the look of surprise upon his face gradually +change into belief. +</P> + +<P> +I told him of our journey across the snow and begged him to help me to +rescue Jacqueline, or at least to find her. I added that the trouble +had partially destroyed her memory, so that she was not competent to +decide who her protectors were. +</P> + +<P> +When I had ended he was looking at me with a benignancy that I had +never seen before upon his face. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Hewlett," he answered, "I have long suspected a part of what you +have told me, and therefore I readily accept your statements. I +believe now that <I>madame</I> has suffered no wrong from you. But I am a +priest, and, as you say, my care is only that of souls. <I>Madame</I> is +married. I married her——" +</P> + +<P> +"To whom?" I cried. +</P> + +<P> +"To M. Louis d'Epernay, nephew of M. Charles Duchaine by marriage, less +than two weeks ago in the <I>château</I> here." +</P> + +<P> +The addition of the last word singularly revived my hopes. It had +slipped from his lips unconsciously, but it gave me reason to believe +that the château was near by. +</P> + +<P> +Father Antoine sat down upon the chair beside me. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine has been a recluse for many years," he said, "and of late +his mind has become affected. It is said that he was implicated in the +troubles of 1867, and that, fearing arrest, he fled here and built this +château, in this desolate region, where he would be safe from pursuit. +If anyone ever contemplated denouncing him, at any rate those events +have long ago been forgotten. But solitude has made a hermit of him +and taken him out of touch with the world of to-day. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe that Leroux has discovered coal on his property, and by +threatening him with arrest has gained a complete ascendency over the +weak-minded old man. However, the fact remains that his daughter was +married by me to M. d'Epernay some ten or twelve days ago at the +<I>château</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"I was uneasy, for it did not look to be like a love-match, and I knew +that M. d'Epernay had the reputation of a profligate in Quebec, where +he was hand in glove with Philippe Lacroix, one of M. Leroux's aids. +But a priest has no option when an expression of matrimonial consent is +made to him in the presence of two witnesses. So I married them. +</P> + +<P> +"My duties took me to Quebec. There I learned that Mme. d'Epernay had +fled on the night of her marriage, and that her husband was in pursuit +of her. Again it was told me that she was living at the Château +Frontenac with another man. It was not for me to question whether she +loved her husband, but to do my duty. +</P> + +<P> +"I appealed to you. You refused to listen to my appeal. You +threatened me, <I>monsieur</I>. And you denied my priesthood. However, I +do not speak of that, for she is undoubtedly safe with her father now, +awaiting her husband's return. And I shall not help you in your +pursuit of her, M. Hewlett, for you are actuated solely by love for the +wife of another man. Is that not so?" he ended, bending over me with a +penetrating look in his blue eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is so. But I shall go to the château," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +Père Antoine rose up. +</P> + +<P> +"You will find food here," he said, "and if you wish to take exercise +there are snow-shoes. Try to find the <I>château</I>—do what you please; +but remember that if you lose your way I shall not be here to save you. +I shall return from my mission in a week and be ready to conduct you to +St. Boniface. And now, <I>monsieur</I>, since we understand each other, I +shall prepare the supper." +</P> + +<P> +I swallowed a few mouthfuls of food and fell asleep soon afterward. In +the morning when I awoke the cabin was empty. +</P> + +<P> +My eyes were almost well, but my hands had been badly frozen and were +extremely painful, while I was so weak that I could hardly walk. I +spent the next two days recovering my strength, and on the third I +found myself able to leave the hut for a short tramp. +</P> + +<P> +I found snow-shoes and coloured glasses in the cabin; my overcoat was +there, and I did not feel troubled in conscience when I appropriated a +pair of warm fur mittens which the good priest had made from mink +skins. They had no fingers, and were admirably adapted to the weather. +</P> + +<P> +I found one of the pistols in the hut, and in the pocket of my fur coat +were a couple of cartridges which I had overlooked. The rest I had +fired away in my delirium. +</P> + +<P> +The cabin, was situated in a valley, around which high hills clustered. +Strapping on the snow-shoes, I set to work to climb a lofty peak which +stood at no great distance. +</P> + +<P> +It took me a couple of hours to make the ascent, and when at last I +sank down exhausted on the summit there was nothing in sight but a +succession of new hills in every direction. I seemed to be on the +summit of the ridge which sloped away to east and west of me. Hidden +among the hills were little lakes. +</P> + +<P> +There was no sign of life in all that desolate country. +</P> + +<P> +My disappointment was overwhelming. Surely the <I>château</I> was near. I +strode up and down upon the mountain-top, clenching my hands with rage. +It was four days since I had lost Jacqueline, and Leroux had +contemptously left me to die in the snow. He was so sure I could not +follow and find him. +</P> + +<P> +I began the descent again. But it is easy to lose one's way upon a +mountain-peak, and the hills presented no clear definition to me. Once +in the valley I could locate the cabin again, but the sun had travelled +far toward the west and no longer guided me accurately. +</P> + +<P> +I must have turned off at a slight angle which took me some distance +out of my course, for my progress was suddenly arrested by a mighty +wall of rock, a sheer precipice that seemed to descend perpendicularly +into the valley underneath. Somewhere a torrent was roaring like a +miniature Niagara. +</P> + +<P> +I discovered my error and bent my footsteps along the summit of the +precipice, and as I proceeded the noise of the torrent grew louder +until the din was deafening. I was treading now upon a smooth slope, +like the glacis of a fortress. I continued the descent, and all at +once, at no great distance from me, I saw a tremendous waterfall, +ice-sheeted, that tumbled down the face of the declivity and sent up a +cloud of misty spray. +</P> + +<P> +I stopped to stare in admiration. Far below me the narrow valley had +widened into the smooth, snow-coated surface of a lake. +</P> + +<P> +And on a point of land projecting from the bottom of that mighty wall I +saw the <I>château</I>! +</P> + +<P> +It could have been nothing else. It was a splendid building—not +larger than the house of a country gentleman, perhaps, and made of hewn +logs; but the rude splendour of it against that icy, rocky background +transfixed me with wonder. +</P> + +<P> +It was a rambling, straggling building, apparently constructed at +different times; having two wings and a wide central hall, with odd +projecting chambers, and it was hidden so cunningly away that it was +visible from this side of the lake only from the point of the rocky +precipice above on which I stood. +</P> + +<P> +The <I>château</I> stood under the overhanging precipice in such a way that +half the building was invisible even from here. It seemed to be set +back into a hollow of the mountainside, which appeared every moment +about to overwhelm it. +</P> + +<P> +And now I perceived that the smooth slope on which I stood was a +snow-covered glacier, a million tons of ice, pressing ever by its own +weight toward the precipice, and carrying its débris of rocks and +stones toward the waterfall that issued from it and poured in deafening +clamour into the lake below. +</P> + +<P> +Where the precipice projected the waterfall was split in two, and +rushed down in twin streams, bubbling, tumbling, hissing, plunging into +the lake, which whirled furiously around the spit of land on which the +castle stood, clear of ice for a distance of a hundred feet from the +shore, a foaming maelstrom in which no boat that was ever built could +have endured an instant, but must have been twisted and flung back like +the fantastically shaped ice pinnacles along the marge. +</P> + +<P> +On each side of the <I>château</I> a cataract plunged, veiling itself in an +opacity of mist, tinted with all the spectral hues by the rays of the +westering sun. I could have flung a stone down, not on the <I>château</I>, +but over it, into the boiling lake. +</P> + +<P> +Why, that position was impregnable! Behind it the sheer precipice, up +which not even a bird could walk; the impassable lake before it, and +the torrent on either side! +</P> + +<P> +But—how had M. Charles Duchaine gained entrance there? +</P> + +<P> +There seemed to be no entrance. And yet the <I>château</I> stood before my +eyes, no dream, but very real indeed. There was a small piece of +enclosed land between its front and the lake, and within this I thought +I could see dogs lying. +</P> + +<P> +That might have been my fancy, for the mountain was too high for me to +be able to distinguish anything readily, and the sublime grandeur of +the scene and the roar of the water made me incapable of clear +discernment. +</P> + +<P> +Before I reached the hut again I had formulated my plan. I would start +at dawn, or earlier, and work around these mountains, a circuit of +perhaps twenty miles, approaching the <I>château</I> by the edge of the +lake. I concluded that there must exist a ridge of narrow beach +between the whirlpool and the castle, though it was invisible from +above, and that the entrance would disclose itself to me in the course +of my journey. +</P> + +<P> +The hope of finding Jacqueline again banished the last vestiges of my +weakness. I felt like one inspired. And my spirit was exalted, too. +For she so completely filled my heart that she left no place for doubts +and fears. +</P> + +<P> +That night I paced the little cabin in an ecstasy of joy. And, as I +paced it, suddenly I perceived a strange flicker of light in the north +sky, and went to the door to see the most beautiful phenomenon that I +had ever witnessed. +</P> + +<P> +There came first a flash, and swiftly long streamers of flame shot up +and spread fanwise over the heavens. They quivered and sank, and +flared again, and broke into innumerable rippling waves; they hung, +broad banners of light, athwart the skies, then slowly faded, to give +place to a wavering interplay of ghostly beams that sought the darkest +places beyond the moon: celestial fingers whiter than the white glow of +a myriad of arc-lamps. +</P> + +<P> +And somehow the wonder of it filled me with the conviction that all +would be well for those heavenly lights bridged the loneliness of my +soul even as they bridged the sky, from Jupiter, who blazed brilliant +in the east to great Arcturus. +</P> + +<P> +And, so I felt that, though I crossed a void as wide and fathomless in +search of her, some time she should be mine and that our hearts would +beat together so long as our lives should endure. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Although the sun was well above the horizon when I awoke, I started out +on the fourth morning eager to achieve the entrance to the <I>château</I>. +</P> + +<P> +First I plodded back to the two mountains which guarded the approach to +the valley, then worked round along the flank of the ridge of peaks, +searching for an entrance. The further I went, however, the higher and +more precipitous became the mountains. +</P> + +<P> +I realized that there was little chance of finding any access along +this side, so after my noon meal I ascended one of the lower elevations +in order to obtain my bearings. But I could discern neither <I>château</I> +nor lake nor waterfall, and the sound of the torrent, far away to the +left, came to my ears only as a faint distant murmur. +</P> + +<P> +I was far out of the way. +</P> + +<P> +The snow, which had been falling at intervals during each day since +Jacqueline's abduction, had long ago covered up the tracks of the +sleigh. I had to trust to my own wit to solve my problem, and there +did not seem to be any solution. +</P> + +<P> +There was no visible entrance to that mountain lake on any side, and to +descend that sheer, ice-coated precipice was an impossibility. +</P> + +<P> +It was long after nightfall when I reached the cabin again, exhausted +and dispirited. +</P> + +<P> +I awoke too late on the fifth morning, and I was too stiff to make much +of a journey. I climbed to the edge of the glacier once again in the +hope of discovering an approach. I examined every foot of the ground +with meticulous care. +</P> + +<P> +But whenever I approached the edge the same wall of rock ran down +vertically for some three hundred feet, veneered with ice and wrapped +in a perpetual blinding spray. +</P> + +<P> +And yet sleighs could enter that valley below. For at the extreme edge +of the lake, outside the enclosed piece of land, I perceived one, a +tiny thing, far under me, and yet unmistakably a sleigh. +</P> + +<P> +I was within three hundred feet of Jacqueline's home and yet as far +away as though leagues divided us. I looked down at the <I>château</I> and +ground my teeth and swore that I would win her. But all the rest of +that day went in fruitless searching. +</P> + +<P> +I must succeed in finding the entrance on the following day, for now +Père Antoine might return at any time, and I knew that he would prove +far less tractable here in his own bailiwick than he had been when I +defied him at the Frontenac. By hook or by crook I must gain entrance +to the valley. +</P> + +<P> +This was to be my last night in the cabin. I could not return, not +though I were perishing in the snows. +</P> + +<P> +Happily my eyes were now entirely well, and my hands, though chapped +and roughened from the frost-bites, had suffered no permanent injury. +So I started out with grim resolution on the sixth morning, when the +dawn was only a red streak on the horizon and the stars still lit my +way. Before the sun rose I was standing once more outside those two +sentinel peaks. +</P> + +<P> +To this point I knew the sleigh had come. But whether it had continued +straight down the valley or turned to the right along that same ridge +which I had fruitlessly explored before, it was impossible to determine. +</P> + +<P> +I tried to put myself in the position of a man travelling toward the +<I>château</I>. Which road would I take? How and where would it occur to +me to seek an entrance into the heart of those formidable hills? +</P> + +<P> +The more I puzzled and pondered over the difficulty the harder it was +to solve. +</P> + +<P> +As I stood, rather weary, balancing myself upon my snow-shoes, I heard +a wolf's howl quite near to me. Raising my head, I saw no wolf, but an +Eskimo dog—the very dog I had encountered in New York, Jacqueline's +dog! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +UNDER THE MOUNTAINS +</H3> + + +<P> +The dog was standing on a rock at the base of the hill immediately +before me—and calling. +</P> + +<P> +I almost thought that it was calling me. +</P> + +<P> +I took a few steps toward it, and it disappeared immediately, as though +alarmed—apparently into the heart of the mountain. +</P> + +<P> +I thought, of course, that it was crouching in a hollow place, or +behind a boulder, and would reappear on my approach, but when I reached +the spot where it had been it was nowhere to be seen. And the +pad-prints ran toward a tiny hole no bigger than the entrance to a +fox's lair—and ended there. +</P> + +<P> +At this spot an enormous boulder lay, almost concealing the burrow. I +put my shoulder against it—in the hope of dislodging it sufficiently +to enable me to see into the cavity. To my astonishment, at the first +touch it rolled into a new position, disclosing a wide natural tunnel +in the mountainside, through which a sleigh might have passed easily! +</P> + +<P> +I saw at once the explanation. The boulder was a rocking stone. It +must have fallen at some time from the top of the arch, and happened to +be so poised that at a touch it could be swung into one of two +positions, alternately disclosing and concealing the tunnel in the +cliff wall. +</P> + +<P> +I stepped within and, striking a match perceived that I was standing +inside a vast cave—a vaulted chamber that ran apparently straight into +the heart of the mountains. +</P> + +<P> +Great stalactites hung from the roof and dripped water upon the floor, +on which numerous small stalagmites were forming, where they had not +been crumbled away by the passage and repassage of sleighs. These had +left two well-defined tracks in the soft stone under my feet. +</P> + +<P> +The cave was one of those common formations in limestone hills. How +far it ran I could not know, but I had little doubt that at last I was +well upon my approach to the <I>château</I>. +</P> + +<P> +The interior was completely dark. At intervals I struck matches from +the box which I had brought with me, but the road always ran clear and +straight ahead, and I could even guide myself by the ruts in the ground. +</P> + +<P> +And every time I struck a match I could see the vaulted cavern, wide as +a great cathedral, extending right and left and in front of me. +</P> + +<P> +I must have been journeying for half an hour when I perceived a faint +light ahead of me, and at the same time I heard the gurgling of a +torrent somewhere near at hand. +</P> + +<P> +The light grew stronger. I could see now that the cavern had narrowed +considerably: there were no longer any ruts in the ground, and by +stretching out my arms I could touch the wall on either side of me. I +advanced cautiously until the light grew quite bright; I saw the tunnel +end in front of me, and emerged into an open space in the heart of the +hills. +</P> + +<P> +I say an open space, for it was as large as two city blocks; but it was +as though it had been dug out of the mountains by an enormous cheese +scoop, for on all sides sheer, vertical walls of rock ascended, so high +that the light of day filtered down only dimly. A swift river, issuing +from the base of one of these stupendous cliffs, ran across the opening +and disappeared into a cave upon the other side. +</P> + +<P> +I glanced at my watch. It seemed that I had been travelling for an +interminable time, but it was barely eleven o'clock. I sat down to +eat, and the thought occurred to me that this would make a good camping +place, if necessary, for it was quite warm at such a depth below the +surface of the hills, and my fur coat had begun to feel oppressive. I +felt drowsy, too, and somehow, before I was aware of any fatigue, I was +asleep. +</P> + +<P> +That was a lucky thing, for I was not destined to sleep much the +following night. It was three o'clock when I awoke, and at first, as +always since my journey began, I could not remember where I was. And, +as always, it was the thought of Jacqueline that recalled to me my +surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +I sprang to my feet and made hasty preparations to resume my journey. +</P> + +<P> +A short investigation showed me that I had come into a <I>cul-de-sac</I>, +for there was no path through the opposite hills. There were, however, +a number of extensive caves in the porous limestone cliffs, any of +which might prove to be the sequence of the road. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing that I perceived on beginning my search was that men +had been here before me. +</P> + +<P> +What was the place? A robbers' den? A camp of outlaws? +</P> + +<P> +In the first cave that I explored I found a stock of provisions—flour +and canned meats and matches—snugly stored away safe from the damp and +snow. Near by were picks and shovels and three very reputable +blankets, with a miscellany of materials suggestive of the camping +party's outfit. +</P> + +<P> +I might have been more surprised than I was, but my thoughts were +centred on Jacqueline, and the waning of the light showed me that the +sun must be well down in the sky. I must get on at once if I were to +reach the <I>château</I> that night. +</P> + +<P> +But how? +</P> + +<P> +I might have wandered for an indefinite time among those caves before +striking the road. That I was off the track now seemed certain, for it +was obvious that no sleigh could pass through those walls. The thin +drift of snow that had covered the ground was almost melted, but enough +remained to have showed the pad-prints of the dog, if it had passed +that way. +</P> + +<P> +There was none; nor were there tracks of sleigh runners, which would, +at least, have scored them in the sandy ooze along the bed of the +rivulet. +</P> + +<P> +I had evidently then strayed from the right course while wandering +through the tunnel, and thus come by mischance into this blind alley. +</P> + +<P> +I had noticed, as I have said, that the path narrowed considerably +during the last few hundred feet that I had traversed before I reached +this open place. In the darkness I might easily have debouched along +one of the numerous paths which, no doubt, existed all through the +interior of this limestone formation. +</P> + +<P> +I started back in haste and reentered the tunnel again, striking a +match every few seconds, lighting each by its predecessor. +</P> + +<P> +I had been travelling back for about ten minutes when I noticed at my +feet the charred stump of a match that I had thrown away some time +before. I looked around me and saw that I was again in the main road. +There were the faint depressions caused by the sleigh runners in the +soft stone, and the roof and side walls of the tunnel again stretched +away into the obscurity around me. +</P> + +<P> +Satisfied that I had retraced my steps sufficiently far, I turned about +and began to proceed cautiously in the opposite direction, keeping this +time as far as possible to the right of the road instead of to the +left, as before. The box of matches which I had brought with me was +nearly exhausted, but, by shielding each one carefully, I was able to +examine my ground with fair assurance of my being in the right course. +</P> + +<P> +A draft was now beginning to blow quite strongly inward, and this +convinced me that I was approaching the tunnel's end. +</P> + +<P> +As I proceeded I kept looking to the left to endeavor to locate the +narrow passage into which I had strayed, but it must have been the +merest opening in the wall, so small that only a miracle of chance had +led me into it, for I saw nothing but the straight passage before me. +</P> + +<P> +Presently I began to hear a murmur of water in the distance, and then a +faint flicker of light. The ground began to grow softer, and now I was +treading upon ooze and mud instead of rock. +</P> + +<P> +The murmur increased in a sonorous crescendo until the full cadence of +the mighty waterfall burst on my ears. +</P> + +<P> +A fiery ball seemed to fill the exit. The red sun, barred with bands +of coal-black cloud, was dipping into the farther verge of the lake. +</P> + +<P> +The thunder of the cataracts filled my ears. A fine spray, like a +garment of filmy silk, obscured my clearer vision; but through and +beyond it, between two torrents that sailed above like crystal bows, I +saw the <I>château</I> before me. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE ROULETTE-WHEEL +</H3> + + +<P> +I stared at the scene in amazement, for the transition from the dark +tunnel through which I had come was an astounding one, and I could +hardly believe the evidence of my eyes. +</P> + +<P> +I had passed right through the hollow heart of those mighty hills and +now stood underneath the huge glacier, with its million tons of ice +above me, from which the cataracts tumbled, drenching me with spray, +though I was fully a hundred yards away from the log <I>château</I>. +</P> + +<P> +The building was located, as I had surmised, upon a narrow strip of +land, invisible from above except where its tongue, containing the +enclosed yard, ran out into the lake. It stood far back beneath the +over-hanging ledge and seemed to be secured against the living rock. +It was evident that there was no other approach except the tunnel +through which I had come, for all around the land that turbulent +whirlpool raved, where the two cataracts contended for the mastery of +the waters. +</P> + +<P> +And for countless ages they must have fought together thus, and neither +gained, not since the day when those mountains rose out of the primeval +ooze. +</P> + +<P> +Within the enclosed space, which was larger than I had thought on +viewing it from above, were two or three small cabins—inhabited, +probably, by habitant or half-breed dependents of the seigneur. +</P> + +<P> +I must have crouched for nearly an hour at the tunnel entrance, staring +in stupefied wonder—for it grew dark, and one by one lights began to +flare at the windows until the whole north wing and central portion of +the building were illuminated. But the south wing, nearest me, was +dark, and I surmised that this portion was not occupied. +</P> + +<P> +Fortune still seemed to favour me, and with this conclusion and the +thought of Jacqueline, I gained courage to advance again. +</P> + +<P> +It was almost dark now and growing bitterly cold. I felt in my pocket +for my pistol and loaded it with the two cartridges that alone remained +of the lot I had brought with me. Then I advanced stealthily until I +stood beneath the cataract; and here I found the spray no longer +drenched me. The splendid torrent shot out like a crystal-arch above +me—so strong and compact that only those at some distance could feel +the mist that veiled it like a luminous garment. +</P> + +<P> +I came upon a door in the dark wing and, turning the handle +noiselessly, found myself inside the <I>château</I>. And at once my ears +were filled with yells and coarse laughter in men's and women's voices. +</P> + +<P> +There was no storm-door, and the interior of the <I>château</I>—at least, +the wing in which I found myself—was almost as cold as the outside. I +stood still, hesitating which way to take. A fiddle was being played +somewhere, and the bursts of noisy laughter sounded at intervals. +</P> + +<P> +As my eyes became accustomed to my surroundings I perceived that I was +standing near the foot of an uncarpeted wooden stairway. There was a +dark room with an open door immediately in front of me, and another at +the farther end of the passage, from beneath which a glimmer of light +issued, and it was from this room that the sounds of laughter and music +came. +</P> + +<P> +While I was pondering upon my next movement, heavy footsteps fell on +the story above me, and a man began coming down the stairs. I stole +into the dark room in front of me, and had hardly ensconced myself +there than he brushed past and went into the room at the end of the +hallway. +</P> + +<P> +And I was certain that he was Leroux. +</P> + +<P> +It was evident that he had not closed the door behind him, for the +sounds of the fiddle and of the revellers became much more distinct, I +had left my snowshoes near the entrance to the tunnel, and my moccasins +made no sound upon the floor. +</P> + +<P> +I crept out of my hiding place and went toward the open door. As I had +surmised, this was the place of the assemblage. I crouched there, with +my pistol in my hand. On the opposite side of the room Simon Leroux +was standing, a sneering smile upon his face. +</P> + +<P> +The scene I saw through the crack of the door quite took my breath away. +</P> + +<P> +The room was an enormous one, evidently forming the entire central +portion of the <I>château</I>. It was a ballroom, or had been a ballroom, +once, for it had a wide hardwood floor, somewhat worn and uneven. The +walls were hung with portraits, evidently of the owner's ancestors, for +I caught a glimpse of several faces in wigs and periwigs. +</P> + +<P> +The furniture was of an old type. Pushed against one wall, near where +Leroux stood, was an ancient piano, and standing upon the other side an +old man played upon a violin. +</P> + +<P> +He must have been nearly eighty years of age. His face had fallen in +over the toothless gums, leaving the prominent cheek-bones protruding +like those of a skull, and his head was a heavy mat of straight grey +hair. He looked like a full-blooded Indian. +</P> + +<P> +Two couples were dancing on the floor. Each man had an Indian woman. +One was middle-aged; the other, a comely young girl with heavy silver +earrings, was laughing noisily as her companion dragged her to a +standstill in front of the fiddler. +</P> + +<P> +"Play faster, Pierre Caribou!" he yelled, pushing the old man backward. +</P> + +<P> +It was the man with the patch! +</P> + +<P> +"Be quiet, Jean Petitjean!" exclaimed the girl, giving him a mock blow. +"Thou shall not hurt my father!" +</P> + +<P> +They laughed drunkenly and resumed the dance. The man with the older +woman was not—greatly to my surprise—Jean Petitjean's companion of +the night. The woman was addressing him as Raoul. She seemed trying +to quiet him, for he was shouting boisterously as he twirled. +</P> + +<P> +From his post across the room Leroux watched the proceedings with his +sneering smile. +</P> + +<P> +Flaring candles were set in sconces of wrought iron around the room, +casting a pallid light upon the scene, and so unreal it would have been +but for my recognition of the men that I might have expected it to +disappear before my eyes. +</P> + +<P> +I crept back from the door and, tracing my journey along the corridor, +began to ascend the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +On the first story I perceived a number of rooms, but those whose doors +were open were dark and apparently empty. I imagined that all the +magnificence of the <I>château</I> was concentrated in that big ballroom. +</P> + +<P> +The corridor on the first story had smaller passages opening out of +it—one at each end. I turned to the left. Now the sound of the +cataracts, which had never left my ears, became a din. The passages +were full of stale tobacco smoke. And advancing I suddenly found +myself face to face with Philippe Lacroix. +</P> + +<P> +He was seated at a table in a room writing, and I came right upon the +door before I was aware of it. I saw his thin face with the little +upturned mustache and the cold sneer about the mouth; and I think I +should have shot him if he had looked up. But he neither heard nor saw +me, but wrote steadily, puffing at a vile cigar, and I crept back from +the door. +</P> + +<P> +Thank God, Jacqueline was not among those brutes below! But I +shuddered to think of her environment here. +</P> + +<P> +I turned back and followed the corridor to the right, and came to a +little hall toward the rear of the building, as I judged, where the +noise of the torrents was less loud, although I now perceived that the +<I>château</I> was in a continual mild tremor from the force of their +discharge. +</P> + +<P> +The windows in this little hall were broken in several places, and had +evidently been in this condition for a long time, for they were covered +with strips of paper, through which the wind entered in chilling gusts. +Beyond me was an open door, and behind it I saw the dull glow of a +stove and felt its heat. +</P> + +<P> +I approached cautiously and looked in. +</P> + +<P> +I never saw a room so littered and uncared for. There were books +around the walls and books upon the floor, covered with dust; there was +dust and dirt and débris everywhere, and spider-webs along the walls +and ceiling. The impression of the whole place was that of ruin. +</P> + +<P> +Facing me, above a cracked and ancient mirror, were two rusty +broad-swords, and in the mirror I saw a large, oaken table reflected. +Seated at it, clothed in a threadbare coat of very ancient fashion, was +an old man with long, snow-white hair and a white, forked beard. He +was busily transferring a stack of gold-pieces from his right to his +left side; and then he began scribbling on a sheet of paper. He paid +me not the smallest attention as I entered. +</P> + +<P> +Not even when I stood beside him did he look up, but went on sorting +out his coins and jotting down figures upon the paper. Sheets of it, +covered with penciled figures, stood everywhere stacked upon the table, +and other sheets were strewn among the books upon the floor; and while +I watched, the old man laid aside the sheet he had been writing on and +drew another sheet from the top of a thick pile beside him. +</P> + +<P> +There was a door behind his chair leading, I imagined, into a +lumber-room. I walked around the room and looked through it, but the +place beyond was dark. +</P> + +<P> +Then I came back to the old man, who still paid me not the least +attention. +</P> + +<P> +Now I perceived that the top of the table was very curiously designed. +It was marked off with squares and columns, and in each square were +figures in black and red. Upon one end of the table at which the old +man sat was a cup-shaped, circular affair of very dark wood—teak, it +resembled—once delicately inlaid with pearl. But now most of the +inlay had disappeared, leaving unsightly holes. +</P> + +<P> +At the bottom of the cup were a number of metallic compartments, and +the whole interior portion was revolving slowly at a turn of the old +man's fingers. +</P> + +<P> +He picked a tiny ivory ball from the table and placed it in the cup. +He set the interior spinning and the ball circulating in the reverse +direction. The sphere clicked and clattered as it forced its way among +the metallic strips. +</P> + +<P> +It may seem strange that I did not at first recognize a roulette-wheel. +But the game is more a diversion of the rich than of those with whom +fortune had thrown me. Gambling had never appealed to me, and I knew +roulette only by reputation. +</P> + +<P> +The ball stopped and settled in one of the compartments, and the old +man took a gold-piece from one of the squares on the table, transferred +a little pile of gold from his right side to his left, and jotted down +some figures upon his paper. +</P> + +<P> +And suddenly I was aware of an abysmal rage that filled me. It seemed +like an abominable dream—the futile old man, the ruffians and their +wenches below. And I had endured so much for Jacqueline, to find +myself immeshed in such things in the end. I stepped forward and swept +the entire heap of gold into the centre of the table. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine!" I shouted. "Why are you playing the fool here when your +daughter is suffering persecution?" +</P> + +<P> +The old man seemed to be aware of my presence for the first time. He +looked up at me out of his mild old eyes, and shook his head in +apparent perplexity. +</P> + +<P> +"You are welcome, <I>monsieur</I>," he said, half rising with a courtly air. +"Do you wish to stake a few pieces in a game with me?" +</P> + +<P> +He gathered up a handful of the coins and pushed them toward me. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, we shall give back our stakes at the end," he continued, +eyeing me with a cunning expression, in which I seemed to detect +avarice and madness, too. +</P> + +<P> +"This is just to see how well we play. Afterward, if we are satisfied, +we will play for real money—real gold." +</P> + +<P> +He began to divide the gold-pieces into two heaps. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, <I>monsieur</I>, I have a system—at least, I nearly have a +system," he went on eagerly. "But it may not be so good as yours. +Come. You shall be the banker, and see if you can win my money from +me. But we shall return the stakes afterward." +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine!" I shouted in his ear. "Where is your daughter?" +</P> + +<P> +"My daughter," he repeated in mild surprise. "Ah, yes; she has gone to +New York to make our fortune with the system. You see," he continued +with senile cunning, "she has taken away the system, and so I am not +sure whether I can beat you. But make your play, <I>monsieur</I>." There +was at least no indecision in the manner in which he set the wheel +spinning. +</P> + +<P> +I did not know what to do. I was fascinated and bewildered by the +situation. +</P> + +<P> +In desperation I thrust a gold-piece upon one of the numbers at the +head of a column. The wheel stopped, and the ball rolled into one of +its compartments. The old man thrust several gold-pieces toward me. +</P> + +<P> +I staked again and again, and won every time. Within five minutes the +whole heap of gold-pieces lay at my side. +</P> + +<P> +The dotard looked at me with an expression of imbecile terror. +</P> + +<P> +"You will give them back to me?" he pleaded. "Remember, <I>monsieur</I>, it +was agreed that we should return the money." +</P> + +<P> +I thrust the heap of coins toward him. "Now, M. Duchaine," I said; "in +return for these you will conduct me to Mlle. Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +He shook his head as though he had not understood. +</P> + +<P> +"It is very strange," he said. "I do not understand it at all. The +system cannot be at fault; and yet——" +</P> + +<P> +I snatched the paper from his grasp and threw it on the floor, then +pulled him to his feet. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough of this nonsense, M. Duchaine," I said. "Will you conduct me +to Mlle. Jacqueline immediately, or shall I go and find her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am here, <I>monsieur</I>," answered a voice at the door; and I whirled, +to see Jacqueline confronting me. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SOME PLAIN SPEAKING +</H3> + + +<P> +I took three steps toward her and stood still. For this was +Jacqueline; but it was not <I>my</I> Jacqueline. It might have been +Jacqueline's grandmother when she was a girl—this haughty belle with +her high waist and side curls, and her flounced skirt and aspect of +cold recognition. +</P> + +<P> +She did not stir as I approached her, but stood still, framed in the +door-way, looking at me as though I were an unwelcome stranger. My +outstretched arms fell to my sides. I halted three paces in front of +her. There was no answering welcome on her face, only a cold little +smile that showed she knew me. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline!" I cried. "It is I, Paul! You know me, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline inclined her head. "Oh, yes; I know you, <I>monsieur</I>," she +answered. "Why have you come here?" +</P> + +<P> +"To see you, Jacqueline! To save you, Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +She made me a mocking courtesy. "I am infinitely obliged to you, +<I>monsieur</I>, for your good will," she said; "but I do not need your aid. +I am with friends now, M.—M. Paul!" +</P> + +<P> +I withdrew a little way and leaned my hand against the table for +support, breathing heavily. Behind me I heard the click, click of the +roulette-ball as it pursued its course around the wheel. The old +dotard had already forgotten me, and was playing with his right hand +against his left again. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not want to see me, Jacqueline?" I asked, watching her through +a whirling fog. +</P> + +<P> +"No, <I>monsieur</I>," she answered chillingly. "No, <I>monsieur</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you wish me to go?" +</P> + +<P> +She said nothing, and I walked unsteadily toward the door. She +followed me slowly. I went out of the room and pulled the door to +behind me. I knew that after it had closed I should never see +Jacqueline again. +</P> + +<P> +She opened it and stood confronting me; and then burst into a flood of +impassioned speech. +</P> + +<P> +"Why have you followed me here to persecute me?" she cried. "Are you +under the illusion that I am helpless? Do you think the friends who +rescued me from you have forgotten that you exist? You took advantage +of my helplessness. I do not want to see you. I hate you!" +</P> + +<P> +"You told me that you loved me, and I believed you, Jacqueline," I +answered miserably, watching the colour flame to her lovely face. And +I could see she remembered that. +</P> + +<P> +"When I was ill you used me for your own base schemes," she went on +with cutting emphasis. "And you—you followed me here. Do you think +that I am unprotected, and that you are dealing only with an old man +and a helpless woman? Why, I have friends who would come in and kill +you if I but raised my voice!" +</P> + +<P> +"Raise your voice, <I>mademoiselle</I>. I am ready for your friends," I +answered. +</P> + +<P> +She looked less steadily at me and seemed to waver. +</P> + +<P> +"What have you come for?" she asked. "Have you not had money enough? +Do you want more?" +</P> + +<P> +I seized her by the wrists. Thus I held her at arm's length, and my +fingers tightened until I saw the flesh grow white beneath them. The +intensity of my rage beat hers down and made it a puny thing. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! You take me for an adventurer?" I cried. "Is <I>that</I> what +they told you? Why do you think I brought you so near your home when +you were, as you said, helpless? Only a few nights ago you said you +loved me; that you would never send me away until I wished to go. What +is it that has happened to change you so, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +I had her in my arms. She struggled fiercely, and I let her go. +</P> + +<P> +"How dare you, <I>monsieur</I>!" she panted. "Go at once, or I shall call +for aid!" +</P> + +<P> +So I went into the passage; and as I left the room I could still hear +the hellish click of the ivory ball in the roulette-wheel. I was +utterly confounded. +</P> + +<P> +But before I reached the end of the little hall Jacqueline came running +back to me. +</P> + +<P> +"Monsieur!" she gasped. "M. Paul! For the sake of—of what I once +thought you, I do not want you to be seen. You are in dreadful danger. +Come back!" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind the danger, <I>madame</I>," I answered, and I saw her flinch at +the word and look at me in dazed bewilderment. "Never mind my danger." +</P> + +<P> +"It is for your own sake, <I>monsieur</I>," she said more gently. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mme. d'Epernay," I answered; and she winced again, as though I had +struck her across the face. +</P> + +<P> +"For my sake," she pleaded, catching at my arm, and at that moment I +heard a door slam underneath and heavy footsteps begin slowly to ascend +the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"No, <I>madame</I>," I answered, trying to release my arm from her clasp. +Her face was full of fear, and I knew it was fear of the man below, not +me. +</P> + +<P> +"Then for the sake of—our love, Paul!" she gasped. +</P> + +<P> +I suffered her to lead me back into the room. In truth, I was in no +hurry to go. As she drew me back and closed the door behind us I heard +the footsteps pause and turn along the corridor. +</P> + +<P> +I knew that heavy gait as well as though I already saw Leroux's hard +face before my eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline pushed me inside the room behind her father's chair and +closed, but did not hasp, the door. The room was completely dark, and +I did not know whether it connected with other rooms or was a mere +closet, but the freshness of the air in it inclined me to the former +view. +</P> + +<P> +Over my head the torrent roared, and I had to stand very close to the +door to hear what passed. +</P> + +<P> +I heard Leroux tramp in and his voice mingling with the <I>click-click</I> +of the ball in the roulette-wheel. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is here?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"I am," answered Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought I heard Lacroix," said Leroux thickly. +</P> + +<P> +"I have not seen M. Lacroix to-day," Jacqueline returned. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux stamped heavily about the room and then sat down. I heard the +legs of his chair scratch the wooden floor as he drew it up to the +table. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Maudit</I>!" he burst out explosively. "Where is d'Epernay? I am tired +of waiting for him!" +</P> + +<P> +"I have told you many times that I do not know," answered Jacqueline; +and there followed the <I>click-click</I> of the ball inside the wheel again. +</P> + +<P> +"How long will you keep up this pretense, <I>madame</I>?" cried Leroux +angrily. "What have you to gain by concealing the knowledge of your +husband from me?" +</P> + +<P> +"M. Leroux, why will you not believe that I remember nothing?" answered +Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +"How can you have forgotten? Why did you run away after marrying him? +What were you doing in New York? Who was the man who accompanied you +to the Merrimac?" he shouted. +</P> + +<P> +Through the chink of the door I saw the old man look up in mild protest +at the disturbing sounds. I clenched my fists, and the temptation to +make an end of Leroux was almost too strong for my restraint. +</P> + +<P> +But to Jacqueline the insult conveyed no meaning, and Leroux continued +in more moderate tones. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, <I>madame</I>, why do you not play fair with me?" he asked. "Who is +that man Hewlett, and why did he accompany you so far toward your +<I>château</I>? Before God, I know your husband and he have been plotting +with Tom Carson against me, but why he should thus place himself in my +power I cannot understand." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, you have spoken of a Tom Carson many times," said Jacqueline. +"Soon, <I>monsieur</I>, I shall begin to believe that such a person really +exists." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me where you met Hewlett." +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you for the last time, <I>monsieur</I>, that I do not remember. But +what I do remember I shall tell you. After my father had turned M. +Louis d'Epernay out of his home, whither he had come to beg money to +pay his gambling debts, you brought him back. You made my father take +him in. He wanted to marry me. But I refused, because I had no love +for him. But you insisted I should marry him, because he had gained +you the entrance to the seigniory and helped you to acquire your power +over my father. Oh, yes, <I>monsieur</I>, let us be frank with each other, +as you have expressed the desire to be." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," growled Leroux, biting his lips. "Perhaps I shall learn +something." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing that you do not already know, <I>monsieur</I>," she flashed out with +spirit. "My father came here, long ago, a political fugitive, in +danger of death. You knew this, and you played upon his fears. You +brought your friends and encouraged him to gamble and waste his money +in his old age, when his mind had become enfeebled. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you played on the old gambling instinct which had laid dormant in +him for forty years. You made him think he was acting the <I>grand +seigneur</I>, as his father had done in earlier days, in his other home at +St. Boniface. +</P> + +<P> +"You drained him of his last penny, and then you offered him ten +thousand dollars to gamble with in Quebec, telling him of the delights +of the city and promising him immunity," the girl went on +remorselessly. "And for this he was to assign his property to Louis, +thinking, of course, that he could soon make his fortune at the tables. +And Louis was to marry me, and in turn sell the seigniory to you. And +so I married Louis under threat of death to my father. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, <I>monsieur</I>, the plan was simple and well devised. And I knew +nothing of it. But Louis d'Epernay blurted it all out to me upon our +wedding night. I think the shame of knowing that I had been sold to +him unhinged my mind, for I ran out into the snows. +</P> + +<P> +"Now you know all, <I>monsieur</I>, for I remember nothing more until I +found myself travelling back with M. Hewlett in the sleigh. You say I +was in New York. Well, I do not remember it. +</P> + +<P> +"And as for Louis d'Epernay, I know nothing of him—but I will die +before he claims me as his wife!" +</P> + +<P> +She had grown breathless as she proceeded with her scathing +denunciation and now stood facing him with an aspect of fearless +challenge on her face. And then I had the measure of Leroux. He +laughed, and he beat down her scorn with scorn. +</P> + +<P> +"You have underestimated your price, <I>madame</I>," he sneered. "Since you +have learned so much, I will tell you more. You have cost me twenty +thousand dollars, and not ten; for besides the ten thousand paid to +your father, Louis got ten thousand also, upon the signing of the +marriage contract. So swallow that, and be proud of being priced so +high! And the seigniory is already his, and I am waiting for him to +return and sell me the ground rights for twenty-five thousand more, and +if I know Louis d'Epernay he will not wait very long to get his fingers +round it." +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline stood watching him with supreme indifference. +</P> + +<P> +The man's coarse gibes had flown past her without wounding her, as they +would have hurt a lower nature. +</P> + +<P> +"No doubt he will return," she answered quietly. "If he would take ten +thousand for me, surely he will take twenty-five thousand for the +seigniory. You have us in your power." +</P> + +<P> +"Then why the devil doesn't he come?" roared Leroux. "If he is +intriguing with Carson, by God, I know enough to shut him up in jail +the rest of his life. And so, <I>madame</I>," he ended quietly, "it will +perhaps be worth your while to tell me why Tom Carson sent this Hewlett +back to the <I>château</I>; for no doubt the wolves have picked him pretty +clean by now." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me, Simon Leroux," said Jacqueline, standing up before him, +as indomitable in spirit as he. "All your plots and schemes mean +nothing to me. My only aim is to take my father away from here, from +you and M. d'Epernay, and let you wrangle over your spoil. There are +more than four-legged wolves, M. Leroux; there are human ones, and, +like the others, when food is scarce they prey upon each other." +</P> + +<P> +"I like your spirit!" exclaimed Simon, staring at her with frank +admiration. +</P> + +<P> +And Jacqueline's head drooped then. Unwittingly Simon had pierced her +defences. +</P> + +<P> +But he never knew, for before he had time to know the grey-beard rose +upon his feet and rubbed his thin hands together, chuckling. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind your money, Simon," he said. "I'm going to be richer than +any of you. Do you know what I did with that ten thousand? I gave it +to my little daughter, and she has gone to New York to make our +fortunes at Mr. Daly's gaming-house. No, there she is!" he suddenly +exclaimed. "She has come back!" +</P> + +<P> +Leroux wheeled round and looked from one to the other. +</P> + +<P> +"So that was the purpose of your visit to New York?" he asked the girl. +"So—you have not quite forgotten that, <I>madame</I>! Your price was not +too vile a thing for you to take it to New York with you! Your shame +was not too great for you to remember that your father had ten thousand +dollars!" +</P> + +<P> +"It was not mine," she flashed back at Leroux. "My father would have +lost it again to you. I took it to New York because I thought that I +could make enough to give him a home during the rest of his days. Do +you think I would have touched a penny of it, <I>monsieur</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," answered Leroux. "But we will soon find out. Where is +that money, <I>madame</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline's lips quivered. I saw her glance involuntarily toward the +door behind which I was standing. +</P> + +<P> +And suddenly the last phase of the problem became clear to me. +Jacqueline thought I had robbed her. +</P> + +<P> +I stepped from behind the door and faced Leroux. "I have that money," +I said curtly. +</P> + +<P> +I saw his face turn white. He staggered back, and then, with a bull's +bellow, rushed at me, his heavy fists aloft. I think he could have +beaten out my brains with them. +</P> + +<P> +But he stopped short when he saw my automatic pistol pointing at his +chest. And he saw in my face that I was ready to shoot to kill. +</P> + +<P> +"You thief—you spy—you treacherous hound, I'll murder you!" he roared. +</P> + +<P> +The dotard, who had been looking at me, came forward. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, I won't have him murdered, Simon," he protested, laying a +trembling hand on Leroux's shoulder. "He has almost as good a roulette +system as I have." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WON—AND LOST +</H3> + + +<P> +We must have stood confronting each other for fully a minute. Then +Leroux dropped his hands and smiled sourly at me. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem—temporarily—to have the advantage of me, M. Hewlett," he +said. "I respect your pertinacity, and now at last I am content in +having discovered the motive of your enterprise. I thought you were +hired by Carson. If you had been frank with me we might have come to +an understanding long ago. +</P> + +<P> +"So, since you have managed to come thus far, and since I am a man of +business, the best thing we can do is to talk over our difficulties and +try to adjust them. You will recall that on the occasion of our +meeting in New York I asked you what your price was. But of course you +were not then prepared to answer me, since you had your price already. +Well, have you come here to get more?" +</P> + +<P> +There was an indescribable insolence in his tone. In spite of the fact +that I had him at my mercy, the man's force and courage almost made him +my master then. +</P> + +<P> +"You may leave us, Mme. d'Epernay," he said to Jacqueline. "No doubt +your absence will spare your feelings, for we are going to be frank in +our speech." +</P> + +<P> +"I thank you for your consideration, M. Leroux," replied Jacqueline, +and walked quietly out of the room. It occurred to me that Leroux +could hardly be more frank than he had been, but I sat down and waited. +The ball was clicking round the wheel again, and very faintly, through +the roar of the cataracts, I heard the sound of the fiddle below. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux sat down heavily. +</P> + +<P> +"I will put down my cards," he said. "I have you here in my power. I +have four men with me. This dotard"—he glanced contemptuously at old +Duchaine—"has no bearing on the situation. You can, of course, kill +me; but that would not help you. You are in possession of some money +belonging to Mme. d'Epernay, and also of certain information that I +shall be glad to receive. There is no law in this valley except my +will. Give me the information I want, keep your money, and go." +</P> + +<P> +I waited. +</P> + +<P> +"In the first place, are you, or are you not, in Carson's pay? I shall +believe your answer because, if you are, I shall offer you a better +price to join me, and therefore it will not pay you to lie. But you +will not be able to deceive me by pretending to be." +</P> + +<P> +"I am not," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Then why did he send you here?" +</P> + +<P> +"I left his employ three days before I met Mme. d'Epernay. If you were +in New York you must have seen that I was not there." +</P> + +<P> +"Good. Second, where is Louis d'Epernay?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have never seen the man," I replied. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux glanced incredulously at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Then your meeting with <I>madame</I> was purely an accident?" he inquired. +"Your only desire, then, was to get the money you knew she was carrying +with her? But how did you know that she was carrying that money?" +</P> + +<P> +I shrugged my shoulders. How was it possible for us to reach an +understanding? +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know why you are lying to me," he said. "It is not to your +advantage. You must have known that she was in New York; Louis must +have told Carson, and he must have told you. And Louis must have told +you the secret of the entrance, unless——" +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me!" I cried furiously. "I will not be badgered with any +more questions. I have told you the truth. I met Mme. d'Epernay by +accident, and I escorted her toward the <I>château</I>, and followed her +after you kidnapped her, to protect her from you." +</P> + +<P> +He grunted and glanced at me with an inscrutable expression upon his +hard features. +</P> + +<P> +"You are in love with her?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Put it that way if you choose," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +He scowled at me ferociously, and then he began studying my face. I +returned stare for stare. Finally he banged his big fist down upon the +table. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it doesn't matter," he said, "because, whatever your purpose, +you cannot do any harm. And you understand that she is a married +woman. So you will, no doubt, agree to take your money and depart?" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall go if she tells me to go," I answered; but even while I spoke +my heart sank, for I had little hope. +</P> + +<P> +"That is easily settled," answered Leroux. "I will bring her back and +you shall hear the decision from her own lips." +</P> + +<P> +He left the room, and I sat there alone beside the dotard, listening to +the click of the ball and the chink of the coins, and the roar of the +twin cataracts above. +</P> + +<P> +In truth, I had no further excuse for staying. I knew what +Jacqueline's reply must be. +</P> + +<P> +But there had been a sinister smoothness in Leroux's latest mood. I +did not trust the man, for all his bluntness. I suspected something, +and I did not intend to relax my guard. +</P> + +<P> +A gentle touch upon the elbow made me leap round in my chair. Old +Charles Duchaine had ceased to play and was watching me out of his mild +eyes. His fingers stroked my coat-sleeve timidly, as though he were +afraid of me. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go away!" he said with a shrewd leer. "Don't go away!" +</P> + +<P> +"Eh?" I exclaimed, startled at this answer to my own self-questioning. +</P> + +<P> +"Simon is a bad man," whispered the greybeard, putting his nodding head +close down to mine. "He won't let you go away. He never lets anyone +go when they have come here. He didn't know my little daughter was +going, but I was too clever for him, because he wasn't here. They +think I am a silly old man, but I know more than they think. Simon +thinks he has got me in his power, but he hasn't." +</P> + +<P> +"How is that?" I inquired, startled at the man's sincerity. I fancied +that he must have been pretending to be half imbecile for reasons of +his own. +</P> + +<P> +"I have a system," leered the dotard. "I can win thousands and +millions with it. I have been perfecting it for years. I have sent my +little daughter to New York to play. Then I shall put Simon out of the +house and we shall all be happy in Quebec together." +</P> + +<P> +I turned from him in disgust, and, after ineffectually tapping my arm +for a few moments, he went back to his wheel. But, though I was +disappointed to discover that my surmise as to his playing a part was +incorrect, his words set me thinking. An imbecile old person is often +a fair reader of character. Was Simon plotting something? +</P> + +<P> +He came back with Jacqueline before I could decide. +</P> + +<P> +"If you bid him, <I>madame</I>, M. Hewlett is willing to take his +departure," said Leroux to her. "Is it your wish that he remain or go?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I want you to go, <I>monsieur</I>," said Jacqueline, clasping her hands +pleadingly. Her eyes were full of tears, which trickled down her +cheeks, and she turned her head away. "There is no reason why you +should remain, <I>monsieur</I>," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you saying this of your free will, Jacqueline?" I cried. +</P> + +<P> +She nodded, and I saw Simon's evil face crease with suppressed mirth. +</P> + +<P> +I rose up. "Adieu, then, <I>madame</I>," I said. "But first permit me to +restore the money that I have been keeping for you." And I took out my +pocketbook. +</P> + +<P> +Simon stared at me incredulously. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not understand you in the least, now, M. Hewlett," he exclaimed. +"You are to keep the money. I do not go back upon my bargains." +</P> + +<P> +"It is not, however, your money," I retorted, though I knew that it +soon would be. "I shall return it to Mme. d'Epernay, who entrusted me +with it. Beyond that I care nothing as to its ultimate destination, +though perhaps I can guess. Naturally I do not carry eight thousand +dollars about with me——" +</P> + +<P> +"Ten thousand!" shouted Simon. +</P> + +<P> +"Mme. d'Epernay gave me eight thousand," I said. "I do not know +anything about ten thousand. Probably Mr. Daly has the rest. But, as +I was saying, I shall give you a check——" +</P> + +<P> +Leroux burst into loud laughter and slapped me heartily upon the +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul Hewlett," he said, with genuine admiration, "you are as good as a +play. My friend, it would have paid you to have accepted my own offer. +However, you declined it and I shall not renew it. Well, let us take +your check, and it shall be accepted in full settlement." He winked at +me and thrust his tongue into his cheek. +</P> + +<P> +I was too sick at heart to pay attention to his buffoonery. I sat down +at the table and, taking up a pen which lay there, wrote a check for +eight thousand dollars, making it out to Jacqueline d'Epernay. This I +handed to her. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Adieu, madame</I>," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Adieu, monsieur</I>," she answered almost inaudibly, her head bent low. +</P> + +<P> +I went out of the room, still gripping my pistol, and I took care to +let Simon see it as we descended the stairs side by side. The noisy +laughter in the ballroom had ceased, but I heard Raoul and Jean +Petitjean quarrelling, and their thick voices told me that they were in +no condition to aid their master. +</P> + +<P> +Then there were only Leroux and Philippe Lacroix to deal with. I could +have saved the situation. +</P> + +<P> +What a fool I had been! What an irresolute fool! I never learned. +</P> + +<P> +As we reached the bottom of the stairs Philippe Lacroix came out of the +ballroom carrying a candle. I saw his melancholy, pale face twist with +surprise as he perceived me. +</P> + +<P> +"Philippe, this is M. Paul Hewlett," said Leroux. "To-morrow you will +convey him to the cabin of Père Antoine, where he will be able to make +his own plans. You will go by way of <I>le Vieil Ange</I>." +</P> + +<P> +Lacroix started violently, muttered something, and passed up the +stairs, often turning to stare, as I surmised from the brief occasions +of his footsteps. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, M. Hewlett, I shall show you your sleeping-quarters for +to-night," Leroux continued to me, and conducted me out into the fenced +yard. A number of Eskimo-dogs were lying there, and one of them came +bounding up to me and began to sniff at my clothes, betraying every +sign of recognition. +</P> + +<P> +This I knew to be the beast that I had taken to the home. How it had +managed to make its escape I could not imagine; but it had evidently +come northward with hardly a pause; and not only that, but had +accompanied us on our journey from St. Boniface at a distance, like the +half-wild creature that it was. +</P> + +<P> +Two sleighs were standing before the huts. Leroux led me past them and +knocked at the door of the largest cabin. +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre Caribou!" he shouted. +</P> + +<P> +He was facing the door and did not see what I saw at the little window +on the other side. I saw the face of the old Indian, distorted with a +grimace of fury as he eyed Leroux. +</P> + +<P> +Next moment he stood cringing before him, his features a mask. Looking +in, I saw a huge stove which nearly filled the interior, and seated +beside it the middle-aged squaw. +</P> + +<P> +"This gentleman will sleep here to-night," said Leroux curtly. "In the +morning at sunrise harness a sleigh for him and M. Lacroix. Adieu, M. +Hewlett," he continued, turning to me. "And be sure your check will +never be presented." +</P> + +<P> +There was something so sinister in his manner that again I felt that +thrill of fear which he seemed able to inspire in me. +</P> + +<P> +He was less human than any man I had known. He impressed me always as +the incarnation of resolute evil. That was his strength—he was both +bad and resolute. If bad men were in general brave, evil would rule +the world as he ruled his. He swung upon his heel and left me. +</P> + +<P> +I went in with Pierre Caribou, and the squaw glided out of the cabin. +There were two couches of the kind they used to call ottomans inside, +which had evidently once formed part of the <I>château</I> furnishings for +their faded splendour accorded little with the decrepit interior of the +hut. +</P> + +<P> +I looked at my watch. I had thought it must be midnight, and it was +only eight. Within three hours I had won Jacqueline and lost her +forever. With Leroux in my power, I had yielded and gone away. +</P> + +<P> +And on the morrow I should arrive at Père Antoine's hut just when he +expected me. +</P> + +<P> +Surely the mockery of fate could go no further! +</P> + +<P> +I sank down on one of the divans and buried my face in my hands, while +Pierre Caribou busied himself preparing food over the stove. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TEE OLD ANGEL +</H3> + + +<P> +Presently the Indian touched me on the shoulder and I looked up. He +had a plateful of steaming stew in his hands, and set it down beside me. +</P> + +<P> +"Eat!" he said in English. +</P> + +<P> +I was too dispirited and dejected to obey him at first. But soon I +managed to fall to, and I was surprised to discover how ravenous I was. +I had eaten hardly anything for days, and only a few mouthfuls since +morning. +</P> + +<P> +As I was eating there came a scratching at the door, and the Eskimo-dog +pushed its way into the cabin and came bounding to my side. I stroked +and petted it, and gave it the remnants of my meal, while Pierre +watched us. +</P> + +<P> +"You know him dog?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw it in New York," I answered. "It brought me to Mlle. +Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +My mind was very much alert just then. It was as though some hidden +monitor within me had taken control to guide me through a maze of +unknown dangers. It was that inner prompting which had forbidden me to +say "Mme. d'Epernay." +</P> + +<P> +I had a consciousness of some impending horror. And I was shaking and +all a sweat—with fear, too—gripping fear! +</P> + +<P> +Yet the old name sounded as sweet as ever to my lips. +</P> + +<P> +The Indian drew the stool near me and sat down. "You meet Mlle. +Jacqueline in New York?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I brought her back," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"I know," the Indian answered. "I meet Simon; drive him from St. +Boniface to <I>château</I>. He want shoot you. I say no, you blind man, +him leave you die in snow. I take Ma'm'selle Jacqueline to St. +Boniface when she run 'way. Simon not here then or I be 'fraid. Simon +bad man. He give my gal to Jean Petitjean. My gal good gal till Simon +give her to Jean Petitjean. Simon bad man. Me kill him one day." +</P> + +<P> +I saw a glimmer of hope now, though of what I hardly knew; or perhaps +it was only the desire to talk of Jacqueline and hear her name upon my +lips and Pierre's. +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre Caribou," I said, "wouldn't you like to have the old days back +when M. Duchaine was master and there was no Simon Leroux?" +</P> + +<P> +He did not answer me, but I saw his face-muscles twitch. Then he +pulled a pipe from his pocket and stuffed it with a handful of coarse +tobacco. He handed it to me and struck a match and held it to the bowl. +</P> + +<P> +When the tobacco was alight he took another pipe and began smoking also. +</P> + +<P> +I had not smoked for days, and I inhaled the rank tobacco-fumes through +the old pipe gratefully. I was smoking, with an Indian, and that meant +what it has always meant. A black cloud seemed to have been lifted +from my mind. And I was not trembling any more. +</P> + +<P> +But how warily I was reaching out toward my companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre, I came here to save Mlle. Jacqueline," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"No can save him," he answered. "No can fight against Simon." +</P> + +<P> +"What, in the devil's name, is his power, then?" I cried. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Le diable</I>," he replied. He may have misunderstood me, but the +answer was apt. "No use fight him," he said. "All finish now. Old +times, him finish, and my gal, too. Soon Pierre Caribou, him finish. +No can fight Simon. Perhaps old Pierre kill him, nobody else." He +looked steadily at me. "I poison him dogs," he added. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" I exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"Simon, him tell me long ago nobody come to <I>château</I>. So you finish, +too, maybe. What he tell you, you go?" +</P> + +<P> +"Lacroix is going to take me to Père Antoine's cabin to-morrow +morning," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +The Indian grunted. "Simon no mean to let you go," he said. "He mean +kill you. You know too much. Sometime he kill me, too, or I kill him. +Once I live in old <I>château</I> at St. Boniface with old M'sieur Duchaine. +Good days then, not like how. Hunt plenty game. Fine people come from +Quebec, not like Simon. M'sieur Charles small boy then. All finish +now." +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre," I said, taking him by the arm, "what is the Old Angel—<I>le +Vieil Ange</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +He stared stolidly at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Why you ask that?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Because Lacroix has been instructed to take me by that route," I +answered. +</P> + +<P> +Pierre said not a word, but smoked in silence. I sat upon the couch +waiting. His face was quite impassive, but I knew that my question was +of tremendous import to me. +</P> + +<P> +At last he shook the ashes out of his pipe and rose. "Come with me," +he said. "I show you—because you frien' of Ma'm'selle Jacqueline. +Come." +</P> + +<P> +I followed him out of the hut. A large moon was just rising out of the +east, but it was not yet high enough to cast much light. +</P> + +<P> +Still Pierre seemed in deadly terror of Simon, for he motioned me to +creep, as he was creeping, out of the enclosure, bending low beside the +fence, so that a watcher from the <I>château</I> might not detect our +silhouettes against the snow-covered lake. +</P> + +<P> +When we were clear of the <I>château</I>, or, rather, the lit portion of it, +Pierre began to run swiftly, still in a crouching position, and in this +way we gained the tunnel entrance. +</P> + +<P> +He took me by the arm, for it was too dark for me to follow him by +sight, and we traversed, perhaps, a mile of outer blackness. Then I +began to see a gleam of moonlight in front of me, and, though I had not +been conscious of making any turn, I discovered that we must have +retraced our course completely, for I heard the roar of the cataracts +again. +</P> + +<P> +Then we emerged upon a tiny shelf of rock some forty feet up the face +of the wall, and quite invisible from below. It was a little above the +level of the <I>château</I> roof, about a hundred yards away. Below me I +could see the main entrance to the tunnel. +</P> + +<P> +We had a foothold of about ten feet on the level platform, which was +slippery with smooth, black ice, and thundering over us, so near that I +could almost have touched it had I stretched out my hand, the whirling +torrent plunged into that hell below. +</P> + +<P> +It was a terrific scene. Above us that stream of white water, +resembling nothing so much as a high-pressure jet from a fireman's hose +magnified a thousand times, curved like a crystal arch, and so compact +by reason of its force that not a drop splashed us. It was as strong +as a steel girder, and I think it would have cut steel. +</P> + +<P> +Pierre caught my arm as I reeled, sick with the shock of the discovery, +and yelled into my ear above the dim. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Le Vieil Ange</I>!" he cried. "This way Simon mean you to go to-morrow. +Lacroix him tell you: 'Get down, we find the road.' He take you up +here and push you—so." +</P> + +<P> +He made a graphic gesture with his arm and pointed. I looked down, +shuddering, into the black, foam-crested water, bubbling and whirling +among the grotesque ice-pillars that stood like sentries upon the brink. +</P> + +<P> +The horror of the plot quite unmanned me. I groped for the shelter of +the tunnel, and clung to the rocky wall to save myself from obeying a +wild impulse to cast myself headlong into the flood below. +</P> + +<P> +I perceived now that the whole face of the wall was honeycombed with +tunnels of natural formation running into the recesses of the +limestone. I wondered that the whole structure, undermined thus and +pressed down by the weight of millions of tons of ice above where the +glacier lay, did not collapse and crumble down in ruin. +</P> + +<P> +Rivulets gushed from the wall everywhere, mingling their contributory +waters with those of the twin torrents. The plateau seemed to be the +watershed in which the drainage of the entire territory had its origin. +Within those connecting caves, if a man knew their secret, he might +hide from a regiment. +</P> + +<P> +Pierre followed me to the mouth of the tunnel and gripped me by both +arms. +</P> + +<P> +"What you do?" he asked. "You go to Père Antoine to-night? What you +do now?" +</P> + +<P> +I took the pistol from my coat pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre," I answered, "I have two bullets here, and both of them are +for Simon. To-night I had him in my power and spared him. Now I am +going back, and I shall shoot him down like a dog, whether he is armed +or defenceless." +</P> + +<P> +"You no shoot Simon," the Indian grunted. "<I>Le diable</I> him frien'. +You had him to-night; why you no shoot him then?" +</P> + +<P> +I did not know. But I was going to find out soon. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going back to kill him now," I repeated. "Afterward I do not +know what will happen. But you can go on to the hut of Père Antoine +and, if luck is with me, I shall meet you, there—perhaps with Mlle. +Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +But I had little hope of meeting him with Jacqueline. Only I could not +forbear to speak her name again. +</P> + +<P> +Pierre's face was twitching. "You no go back!" he cried. "Simon he +kill you. No use to fight Simon. Him time not come yet. When him +time come, he die." +</P> + +<P> +"When will it come?" I asked, looking at the man's features, which were +distorted with frenzied hate. +</P> + +<P> +"I not know!" exclaimed Pierre. "I try find—cards to tell me. No +Indian man in this part country remember how to tell me. In old days +many could tell. Now I wait. When his time come, old Indian know. He +kill Simon then himself. Nobody else kill Simon. No use you try." +</P> + +<P> +I own that, standing there and thinking upon the man's hellish design, +his unscrupulousness, his singular success, I felt the old fear of +Leroux in my heart, and with it something of the same superstition of +his invulnerability. But my resolution surpassed my fear, and I knew +it would not fail me. How often had I resolved—and forgotten. Not +again would I forget. +</P> + +<P> +I shook the Indian's hands away and plunged forward into the tunnel +again. I heard him calling after me; but I think he saw that I was not +to be deterred, for he made no attempt to follow me. +</P> + +<P> +And so I went on and on through the darkness, and with each step toward +the <I>château</I> my resolution grew. +</P> + +<P> +I seemed to have been travelling for a much longer period than before. +Every moment, straining my eyes, I expected to see the light of the +entrance, but the road went on straight apparently, and there was +nothing but the darkness. +</P> + +<P> +At last I stood still; and then, just as I was thinking of retracing my +steps, I felt a breath of air upon my forehead. +</P> + +<P> +I hurried on again, and in another minute I saw a faint light in front +of me. Presently it grew more distinct. I was approaching the +tunnel's mouth. But I stopped again. I was waiting for something—to +hear something that I did not hear. Then I knew that it was the sound +of the waterfalls. In place of them there was only the gurgling of a +brook. +</P> + +<P> +My elbow grated against the tunnel wall. I stepped sidewise toward the +centre, and ran against the wall opposite. Now, by the stronger light, +I could see that I had strayed once again into some byway, for the +passage was hardly three feet wide and the low roof almost touched my +head. +</P> + +<P> +It narrowed and grew lower still; but the light of the stars was clear +in front of me and the cold wind blew upon my face; and I squeezed +through into the same scooped-out hollow which I had entered on the +same afternoon during the course of my journey toward the <I>château</I>. +</P> + +<P> +I had approached it apparently through a mere fissure in the rocks upon +the opposite side and at a point where I had assured myself that there +could be no passage. The little river gurgled at my feet, and in front +of me I saw a candle flickering in the recesses of a cave, so elfinlike +that I could distinguish it only by shielding my eyes against the moon +and stars. +</P> + +<P> +I grasped my pistol tightly and crept noiselessly forward. If this +should be Leroux, as I was convinced it was, I would not parley with +him. I would shoot him down in his tracks. +</P> + +<P> +My moccasined feet pressed the soft ground without the slightest sound. +I gained the entrance to the cave. Within it, his back toward me, a +man was stooping down. +</P> + +<P> +As I stepped nearer him my feet dislodged a pebble, which rolled with a +splash into the bed of the stream. +</P> + +<P> +The man started and spun around, and I saw before me the pale, +melancholy features of Philippe Lacroix. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +LOUIS D'EPERNAY +</H3> + + +<P> +He uttered an oath and took two steps backward, but I saw that he was +unarmed and that he realized his helplessness. He flung his hands +above his head and stood facing me, surprise and terror twisting his +features into a grimacing grin. +</P> + +<P> +There was no man, next to Leroux, whom I would rather have seen. +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to see you, M. Hewlett," he babbled. +</P> + +<P> +"I can quite believe that, M. Lacroix," I answered. "You have looked +for me before. But this time you have found me." +</P> + +<P> +"I have something of importance to say to you, <I>monsieur</I>," he began +again. +</P> + +<P> +"I can believe that, too," I answered. "It is about <I>le Vieil Ange</I>, +is it not?" +</P> + +<P> +"By God, I did not mean—I swear to you, <I>monsieur</I>—listen, +<I>monsieur</I>, one moment only," he stammered. "Lower your pistol. You +see that I am unarmed!" +</P> + +<P> +I lowered it. "Well, say what you have to say," I said to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Leroux is a devil!" he burst out, with no pretended passion. "I want +you to help me, M. Hewlett, and I can help you in a way you do not +dream of. I am not one of his kind, to take his orders. Why in Quebec +he would be like the dirt beneath my feet. He has a hold over me; he +tempted me to gamble in one of his houses, and I—well, he has a hold +over me. But he shall not drive me into murder. M. Hewlett, how much +do you think this seigniory is worth?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not a financier," I answered. "Some half a million dollars, +perhaps." +</P> + +<P> +He came close to me and hissed into my ear: "<I>Monsieur</I>, there is more +gold in these rocks than anywhere in the world! Look here! Here!" +</P> + +<P> +He stooped down and began tossing pebbles at my feet. But they were +pebbles of pure gold, and each one of them was as large as the first +joint of my thumb. And I had misjudged his courage, I think, for it +was avarice and not fear that made him tremble. +</P> + +<P> +So that was Lacroix's master-passion! I had always associated it with +decrepit old age, as in the case of Charles Duchaine. +</P> + +<P> +I looked into the cave. Lacroix was bending over a great heap of +sacks, piled almost to the roof. They were sacks of earth, but the +earth was naked with gold, and I saw nuggets glittering in it. +</P> + +<P> +"It is everywhere, <I>monsieur</I>!" cried Lacroix. "In this stream, in +these hills, too. You can gather a mortarful of earth anywhere, and it +will show colour when it is washed. We found this place together——" +</P> + +<P> +"You and Leroux?" +</P> + +<P> +"No! I and——" +</P> + +<P> +He broke off suddenly and eyed me with furtive cunning. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, <I>monsieur</I>, Leroux and I. And we two worked here together, +with nothing more than picks and shovels and mortars and pestles, +Leroux and I. There was nobody else. We slept here when Duchaine +thought we were in Quebec. For days and days we washed and dug, and we +have hardly scratched the surface. Monsieur, it is the Mother Lode, it +is the world's treasure-house! There are millions upon millions here!" +</P> + +<P> +I understood now why the provisions had been stored there. And I had +passed by and never known that there was an ounce of gold! But—— +</P> + +<P> +"There are three blankets here," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, <I>monsieur</I>!" cried Lacroix eagerly. "I suffer much from +cold. Two of them are mine, and Leroux has only one. It is the +richest gold deposit in the world, M. Hewlett, and neither Raoul nor +Jean Petitjean knows the secret—only Leroux and I. One cannot light +upon this place save by a miracle of chance, such as brought you here. +God put this treasure in these hills, and He did not mean it to be +found." +</P> + +<P> +I grasped him by the shoulder. "Do you see what this means?" I shouted. +</P> + +<P> +"It means a glorious life!" he cried. "All the wealth in the world——" +</P> + +<P> +"No, it means <I>death</I>!" I answered. "It means that if Leroux succeeds +in killing me, he will kill you, too! Don't you see that we must stand +together? Do you suppose that he will share his hoard with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, M. Hewlett," answered Lacroix quietly. "And that is precisely +what I wanted to say to you. You are not a hog like Leroux; I can +trust you. And then you are a gentleman, and we gentlemen trust each +other. I will give you a share in the gold, and you will get +<I>mademoiselle</I>. She has no love for Louis. She left him half an hour +after the marriage had been performed. Leroux witnessed the ceremony, +and he hurried away with Père Antoine, and then she ran away. She +loves you! And Louis will not trouble you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Faugh!" I muttered. "I don't want to hear your views on—on Mlle. +Jacqueline, my friend. But it seems to me that our interests are +mutual, and, as it happens, I was on my way back to have it out with +Leroux when I stumbled upon this place." +</P> + +<P> +"But I can show you the way," he exclaimed. "Come with me, <I>monsieur</I>. +I don't know how you got into the wrong passage, but it is +simple—straight ahead. Come with me! I will precede you." +</P> + +<P> +I followed him into the darkness, and very soon heard the sound of the +cataract again. And then once more I was standing at the tunnel +entrance, under a brilliant moon, and the <I>château</I> was before me. +</P> + +<P> +It was all dark now, except for a glimmer of light that came from two +windows on the far side, visible indirectly as a reflection from the +snowy steeps beyond. That must be Duchaine's room. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux's I did not know, of course, but I surmised that it was one of +those on the same story, which I had passed while making my previous +tour of discovery. But this ignorance did not cause me much concern. +I knew that, once we were face to face together, I should gain the +victory over him. +</P> + +<P> +And I would be merciless and not falter. +</P> + +<P> +And Jacqueline! If I won, should I not keep her? She was mine, even +against her will, by every rule of war. And this was a world of war, +where beauty went to the strong, and all rules but that were scratched +from the book of life. +</P> + +<P> +I would not even tread softly now, nor slink within the shadows. Nor +did I fear Lacroix, although he had fallen out of sight behind me. +</P> + +<P> +I strode steadily across the snow and opened the door in the dark wing, +entered the hall and ascended the stairway, took the turn to the right +and passed through the little hall. As I had guessed, the light came +from Duchaine's room. +</P> + +<P> +I heard Leroux's harsh voice within; and if I stopped outside it was +not in indecision, but because I meant to make sure of my man this time. +</P> + +<P> +Through the crack of the door I saw old Charles Duchaine nodding over +his wheel. Leroux was standing near him, and in a corner, beside the +window, was Jacqueline. She was facing our common enemy as valiantly +as she had done before. And he was still tormenting her. +</P> + +<P> +"I want you, Jacqueline," I heard him say, in a voice which betrayed no +throb of passion. "And I am going to have you. I always have my way, +I am not like that weak fool, Hewlett." +</P> + +<P> +"It was I sent him away, not you," she cried. "Do you think he was +afraid of you?" +</P> + +<P> +Leroux looked at her in admiration. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a splendid woman, Jacqueline," he said. "I like the way you +defy me. But you are quite at my mercy. And you are going to yield! +You will yield your will to mine——" +</P> + +<P> +"Never!" she cried. "I will fling myself into the lake before that +shall happen. Ah, <I>monsieur</I>"—her voice took on a pleading tone—"why +will you not take all we have and let us go? We are two helpless +people; we shall never betray your secrets. Why must you have me too?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because I love you, Jacqueline," he cried, and now I heard an +undertone of passion which I had not suspected in the man. "I am not a +scoundrel, Jacqueline. Life is a hard game, and I have played it hard. +And I have loved you for a long time, but I would not tell you until I +had the right as well as the power—but now my love is my law, and I +will conquer you!" +</P> + +<P> +He caught her in his arms. She uttered a little, gasping cry, and +struggled wildly and ineffectually in his grasp. +</P> + +<P> +I was quite cold, for I knew that was to be the last of his villainies. +I entered the room and walked up to the table, my pistol raised, aiming +at his heart, and I felt my own heart beat steadily, and the will to +kill rise dominant above every hesitation. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux spun round. He saw me, and he smiled his sour smile. He did +not flinch, although he must have seen that my hand was as steady as a +rock. I could not withhold a certain admiration for the man, but this +did not weaken me. +</P> + +<P> +"What, you again, <I>monsieur</I>?" he asked mockingly. "You have come +back? You are always coming back, aren't you?" +</P> + +<P> +The truth of the diagnosis struck home to me. Yes, I was always coming +back. But this time I had come back to stay. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I do anything further for you, M. Hewlett?" he asked. "Was not +your bed comfortable? Do you want something, or is it only habit that +has brought you back here where nobody wants you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have come back to kill you, Leroux," I answered, and pulled the +trigger six times. +</P> + +<P> +And each time I heard nothing but the click of the hammer. +</P> + +<P> +Then, with his bull's bellow, Simon was upon me, dashing his fists into +my face, and bearing me down. My puny struggles were as ineffective as +though I had been fighting ten men. He had me on the floor and was +kneeling on my chest, and in a trice the other ruffians had come +dashing along the hall. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline was beating with her little fists upon Leroux's broad back, +but he did not even feel the blows. I heard old Charles Duchaine's +piping cries of fear, and then somebody held me by the throat, and I +was swimming in black water. +</P> + +<P> +"Bring a rope, Raoul!" I heard Simon call. +</P> + +<P> +Half conscious, I knew that I was being tied. I felt the rope tighten +upon my wrists and limbs; presently I opened my aching eyes to find +myself trussed like a chicken to two legs of the table. I think it was +Jean Petitjean who said something about shooting me, and was knocked +down for it. Leroux was yelling like a demoniac. I saw Jacqueline's +terrified face and the trembling old man; and presently Leroux was +standing over me again, perfectly calm. +</P> + +<P> +He had taken the pistol from my coat pocket and placed it on the table, +and now he took it in his hand and held it under my eyes. The magazine +was empty. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Paul Hewlett, you are a very poor conspirator, indeed," he said, +"to try to shoot a man without anything in your pistol. Do you +remember how affectionately I put my arm round you when you were +sitting in that chair writing your ridiculous check? It was then that +I took the liberty of extracting the two cartridges. But I did think +you would have had sense to examine your pistol and reload before you +returned." +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline was clinging to him. "Monsieur," she panted, "you will +spare his life? You will unfasten him and let him go?" +</P> + +<P> +"But he keeps coming back," protested Leroux, wringing his hands in +mock dismay. +</P> + +<P> +"Spare him, <I>monsieur</I>, and God will bless you! You cannot kill him in +cold blood," she cried. +</P> + +<P> +"We will talk about that presently, my dear," he answered. "Go and sit +down like a good child. I have something more to ask this gentleman +before I make my decision." +</P> + +<P> +He picked up a scrap of newspaper from the table and held it before my +eyes, deliberately turning up the oil-lamp wick that I might read it. +I recognized it at once. It was the clipping from the newspaper, +descriptive of the murdered man, which I had cut out in the train and +placed in my pocketbook. +</P> + +<P> +"You dropped this, my friend, when you pulled out your check-book," +said Simon. "You are a very poor conspirator, Paul Hewlett. Assuredly +I would not have you on my side at any price. Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" I repeated mechanically. +</P> + +<P> +"Who killed him?" he shouted. +</P> + +<P> +He shook the paper before my eyes and then he struck me across the face +with it. +</P> + +<P> +"Who killed Louis d'Epernay?" he yelled, and Jacqueline screamed in +fear. +</P> + +<P> +"I did," I answered after a moment. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE LITTLE DAGGER +</H3> + + +<P> +Leroux staggered back against the wall and stood there, scowling like a +devil. It was evident that my answer had been totally unexpected. I +had never seen him under the influence of any overwhelming emotion, and +I did not at the time understand the cause of his consternation. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline was clinging to her father, and the old man looked from one +to the other of us in bewilderment, and shook his white head and +mumbled. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you—know this, <I>madame</I>?" cried Leroux fiercely to Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"So this is why you pretended to have forgotten. You remembered +everything?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"You lied to shield yourself?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, to shield him," she cried. "Because he was my only friend when I +was helpless in a strange city. You did not steal my money, did you, +Paul?" she added, turning swiftly upon me. "No, you have paid me. You +were keeping it for me." +</P> + +<P> +"You lie!" yelled Leroux, and he struck her across the mouth as he had +struck me. +</P> + +<P> +I writhed in my bonds. I pulled the heavy table after me as I tried +impotently to crawl toward him, sending the wheel flying and all the +papers whirling through the air. I cursed Leroux as blasphemously as +he was cursing Jacqueline. I saw a trickle of blood on her cut lip, +and the proud smile upon her face as she defied him. +</P> + +<P> +And at the door was the pale face of Philippe Lacroix. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux turned on me and kicked me savagely, and dragged the table to +the far end of the room, and struck me repeatedly, while I struggled +like a madman. The oaths and execrations that streamed from my lips +seemed to be uttered by another man, for I heard them indifferently, or +rather something that was I, deep in the maze of my personality, heard +them—not that pitiful, puny, goaded thing that fought in its bonds +until it ceased, panting and exhausted. +</P> + +<P> +There followed a long silence, while Leroux strode furiously about the +room. At last he stopped; he seemed to have made up his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"I understand now," he said, nodding his head. "So you are the man who +took this woman to the Merrimac. And then to your home, and Louis +d'Epernay followed you there, and, naturally, you killed him. Well, it +is intelligible. You were not acting for Carson after all, but were +infatuated with this woman. Well—but——" He wheeled and turned to +Jacqueline. "I will marry you still!" +</P> + +<P> +She did not deign to answer him nor to wipe away the blood that +trickled down her chin. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know why?" he bawled. +</P> + +<P> +She raised her eyes indifferently to his. I saw that, though her +spirit was unbroken, she was weary to death. +</P> + +<P> +"Because you become part heir of the seigniory by your husband's +death!" he shouted; and then he took Charles Duchaine by the arm and +began shaking him violently. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, you old fool!" he cried. "Your son-in-law is dead—Louis +d'Epernay!" +</P> + +<P> +Charles Duchaine looked at Leroux in his mild way. He had put one arm +round his daughter, and he seemed to understand that Simon was +maltreating her, and to wish to defend her; but his wits were still +wandering, and I saw that he understood only a little of what was +passing. +</P> + +<P> +"Louis d'Epernay is dead!" cried Simon, shaking the old man again. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well!" answered Duchaine, stroking his long beard with his free +hand. "So Louis is dead! Did you kill him, Simon?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I didn't kill him," Simon sneered. "Wake up a little more, +Duchaine. Do you know what happens now he is dead?" +</P> + +<P> +"I expect you to get some more money, Simon," answered the old man with +an ingenuousness that made the reply more stinging than any intended +irony. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux burst into a mirthless laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"You are quite right, Duchaine," he answered. "And I am not going to +mince matters. I have a hold over you, and you will do my bidding. +You will assign your share to me as your son-in-law." +</P> + +<P> +I saw Jacqueline looking at me. I would not meet her gaze, but at last +her persistence compelled me. Then I saw her glance toward the wall. +</P> + +<P> +The two broadswords hung there, within arm's reach, above the broken +mirror. My heart leaped up at the thought of her valour. She had no +mind to yield! +</P> + +<P> +But I shook my head imperceptibly in answer, and looked down at my +bonds. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want you to marry my daughter, Simon," said old Duchaine +mildly. "I saw you strike her in the face just now. No gentleman +would do that. Come, Simon, you know you are not a gentleman; you +ought not to think of such a thing. Jacqueline would not be happy with +you. What does she say?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care what she says," snarled Leroux. "I will take care of +that." +</P> + +<P> +I had been trying hard to devise some method of freeing myself. My +struggles had relaxed the ropes around my wrists sufficiently to allow +my hands two or three inches of movement, and I hoped, by hard work, to +loosen them sufficiently to enable me to get at least one hand free. +</P> + +<P> +Then I felt that something hard was pressing into my back, just within +reach of my right thumb and forefinger. My fur coat, which was still +round me, was twisted, so that the inside breast-pocket was behind me, +and I fancied that the hard object was something that I had placed in +this receptacle. +</P> + +<P> +I let my thumb and finger travel up and down it. It had the form of a +tiny knife, with a heavy, rounded handle. +</P> + +<P> +And suddenly I knew what it was. It was the knife with which Louis +d'Epernay had been killed! +</P> + +<P> +I must have put it in my breast-pocket at some time, intending to throw +it away, and it had slipped through a hole in the lining and gone down +as far as the next ridge of fur, where it had become wedged. +</P> + +<P> +I could just get my finger and thumb round the point of the blade. The +ropes scored deeply into my wrists as I worked at it, but I felt the +lining give, and presently I had worked the blade through and had the +knife out by the handle. +</P> + +<P> +But it was made for thrusting more than cutting, and I had to pick the +ropes to pieces, strand by strand. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline had been imperceptibly edging away from her father and +Leroux; she was now standing immediately beneath the rusty swords. And +outside the door I still perceived Lacroix, motionless. +</P> + +<P> +It flashed across my mind that he understood the girl's desperate ruse, +and that he was waiting for the issue. I picked furiously at the ropes +which bound my hands, and a long strand uncoiled and whipped back on my +wrist. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly I heard old Charles Duchaine bring down his fist with a +vigorous thud upon the end of the table. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see you in —— first, Simon!" was his unexpected remark. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" cried Simon, taken completely aback. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Simon," continued the old man in his mild voice once more. "You +are not a gentleman you know, and you are not fit to marry Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +Leroux thrust his hard face into the old man's. +</P> + +<P> +"Duchaine, your wits are wandering," he answered. "Listen now! Have +you forgotten that the government is searching for you night and day? +It was a long time ago that you killed a soldier of the Canadian +forces, but not too long ago for the government to remember. It has a +long memory and a long arm, too, and at a word from me——" +</P> + +<P> +It was pitiful to see the change that came over Duchaine's face. He +shook with fear and stretched out his withered hands appealingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Simon, you wouldn't betray me after all these years of friendship?" he +cried. "<I>Mon Dieu</I>, I do not wish to hang!" +</P> + +<P> +"Keep calm, Charles, my friend," responded Simon glibly. "I am ready +to return friendship for friendship. Will you acknowledge me as your +son-in-law and heir?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," stammered the old man. "Take everything, Simon; only leave me +free." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that is more reasonable," said Leroux, evidently mollified. "I +am not the man to go back on my friends. I shall give you a cash +return of ten thousand dollars. You have not forgotten the old times +in Quebec?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Simon," muttered Duchaine, looking up hopefully at him. +</P> + +<P> +"If you had ten thousand dollars, Charles, you could make your fortune +in a week. They play high nowadays, and your system would sweep all +before it." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes!" cried the dotard eagerly. "If only I had ten thousand +dollars I could make my fortune. But I am old now. My little daughter +has gone to New York to play for me. You did not know that, Simon, did +you?" he added, looking at him with a cunning leer. +</P> + +<P> +"She cannot play as well as you, Charles," said Leroux. "You have +played so long, you know; you have the system at your fingers' ends. +There is nobody who could stand up against you. Do you remember Louis +Street and the fine people who were your friends? How they will +welcome you! You could become a man of fashion again, in spite of your +long exile in these solitudes. Do you recollect the races, where +thousands can be won in a few minutes, when your horse romps home by a +neck? And the gaming-tables, where a thousand dollars is but a pinch +of dust, and the bright lights and the chink of money—and you winning +it all away? You can have horses and carriages again, and all houses +will be open to you, for your little error has long ago been forgotten. +And you are not an old man, Charles." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, Simon!" cried the old man, fascinated by the picture. "It +is worth it—by gracious, it is!" +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline swung round on Leroux. I saw her fists clench and her +bruised lip quiver. +</P> + +<P> +"Never, Simon Leroux!" she said. "And, what is more, my father is not +competent to transfer his property, and I will fight you through every +court in the land." +</P> + +<P> +"I was coming to you, <I>madame</I>," sneered Simon. "I don't know much +about the courts in this part of the country, but you will marry me to +save the life of your lover." +</P> + +<P> +"No!" she answered, setting her teeth. +</P> + +<P> +He seized her by the wrists and dragged her across the floor to me. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at him!" he yelled. "Look into his face. Will you marry me if I +let him go free?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" answered Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +"I swear to you that he shall be thrown from the top of the cataract +unless you give your consent within five minutes." +</P> + +<P> +"Never!" she answered firmly. +</P> + +<P> +"I will denounce your father!" +</P> + +<P> +"You can't frighten me with such stuff. I am not a weak old man!" +</P> + +<P> +"You will think differently after Charles Duchaine has been hanged in +Quebec jail," he sneered. +</P> + +<P> +His words received a wholly unexpected answer. The dotard leaped +forward, stooped down, and picked up the heavy roulette-wheel. +</P> + +<P> +He raised it aloft and staggered wildly toward Leroux. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE HIDDEN CHAMBER +</H3> + + +<P> +Simon turned just in time. The wheel went crashing to the floor and +bounded and rebounded out of the room and along the little hall. +Philippe jumped in terror from the place where he crouched. +</P> + +<P> +And then the last strand broke, and I was free to slip the cords from +my limbs. +</P> + +<P> +"You old fool!" screamed Leroux, catching Duchaine by the wrists. But +Charles Duchaine possessed the strength of a madman. He grasped Leroux +round the waist and clung to him, and would not be shaken off. +</P> + +<P> +"Kill him!" he screamed. "He is a spy! He has come to betray me to +the government!" +</P> + +<P> +What followed was the work of a moment. I saw Jacqueline pull down +both broadswords from the wall. She flung one down beside me just as I +was staggering to my feet. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux shook off the old man at last. He turned on me. I swung the +sword aloft and brought it down upon his skull. +</P> + +<P> +Heaven knows I struck to kill; but my wrist was feeble from the ropes, +and the blade fell flat. It drew no blood, but Leroux dropped like a +stricken ox upon the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"This way!" gasped the old man. +</P> + +<P> +He pulled at Jacqueline's arm, and half led and half dragged her +through the open door behind his chair, I following. Lacroix sprang +into the room, called, but whether to us or to the other ruffians I did +not know. Leroux sat up and looked about him, dazed and bewildered. +</P> + +<P> +Then I was in the little room with Jacqueline and Duchaine, and he +turned and bolted the door behind us. He seemed possessed of all the +strength and decision of youth again. +</P> + +<P> +When I stood there before the room had been as dark as pitch, but now a +flicker of light was at the far end. A voice cried: +</P> + +<P> +"<I>M'sieur</I>! <I>M'sieur</I>! I have not forgotten thee!" +</P> + +<P> +It was Pierre Caribou. I saw his figure silhouetted against the light +of the flaring candle which he held in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +Duchaine had placed one arm about his daughter's waist, and was urging +her along. But she stopped and looked back to me. I saw she held one +broadsword in her hand, as I held the other. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, <I>monsieur</I>!" she gasped. +</P> + +<P> +But I was too mad with the desire to make an end of Leroux to accompany +her. I wanted to go back. I tried to find the bolt of the door in the +gloom, but while my fingers were fumbling for it Jacqueline came +running back to me. +</P> + +<P> +"Quick, or we are lost!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going back," I answered, still fumbling for the holt Duchaine had +drawn. +</P> + +<P> +"No! We are safe inside. It is a secret room. My father made it in +the first days of his sojourn here in case he was pursued, and none but +Pierre and he know the secret. Ah, come, <I>monsieur</I>—come!" +</P> + +<P> +She clung to me desperately, and there was an intensity of entreaty in +her voice. +</P> + +<P> +I hesitated. There was no sound in the room without, and I believed +that the two ruffianly followers were ignorant of what had happened, +and had not dared to return after being driven away. +</P> + +<P> +But I meant to kill Leroux, and still felt for the bolt. +</P> + +<P> +As I fumbled there the door splintered suddenly, and Jacqueline cried +out. Through the hole I saw the oil-lamp shining in the outer room. +</P> + +<P> +The door splintered again. All at once I realized that Leroux was +firing his revolver at the panels. It was fortunate that we both stood +at one side, where the latch was. +</P> + +<P> +Then I yielded reluctantly to Jacqueline's soft violence. I followed +her through the dark chamber, under an archway of stone, and through a +winding passage in the rock. Pierre's candle flickered before us, and +in another moment we had squeezed through a narrow opening into a +chamber in the cliff. +</P> + +<P> +On the ground were five or six large stones, and Pierre began to fit +them into the aperture through which we had passed. In a minute the +place was completely sealed, and we four stood and looked breathlessly +at one another within what might have been a cenotaph. +</P> + +<P> +Not the slightest sound came from without. +</P> + +<P> +We were standing in a stone chamber, apparently of natural formation, +but finished with rough masonry work. It was about the size of a large +room, and I could see that it was only a widening of the tunnel itself, +which continued through a narrow exit at the farther end, running on +into the unknown depths of the cliff. +</P> + +<P> +From the freshness of the air I inferred that it connected with the +surface at no distant place. +</P> + +<P> +The entrance through which we had come had been made by blasting at +some period, or widened in this way, and then cemented, for the stones +which Pierre had fitted into it exactly filled it, so that it was +barely distinguishable from where I stood, and I am certain that it +would have required a prolonged scrutiny on the part of searchers on +the outside to enable them to detect it. +</P> + +<P> +And even then only dynamite or blasting-powder could have forced a +path, and it would have been exceedingly difficult to handle such +materials within the tunnel without blocking the approach completely, +while leaving open the farther exit. +</P> + +<P> +The chamber seemed at one time to have been prepared for such a +contingency as had occurred, for there were wool rugs on the stone +floor, though they had rotted and partly disintegrated from the +dampness. +</P> + +<P> +There were a table and wooden chairs, also partially decayed. The +mouldering fringes of some rugs protruded from a bundle wrapped in +oil-paper. +</P> + +<P> +Pierre Caribou opened this and shook them out on the ground. Except +where their edges had been exposed, they were in good condition, and +were thick enough to lie upon without much discomfort. +</P> + +<P> +The interior of the cave was pleasantly warm, though moist. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine, he make this place in case gov'ment come take him," +explained Pierre as he placed the rugs on the floor. "No can find, no +can break down stone door. Other way Simon not know—only m'sieur and +me. Old Caribou he come that way; he see you tied and know it time to +come here. Soon time to kill Simon come as well." +</P> + +<P> +"When in Heaven's name <I>will</I> it come?" I cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Come soon. His <I>diable</I> tell me," answered Pierre Caribou. +</P> + +<P> +The chamber was as silent as the grave, except for the gurgling of a +spring of water somewhere and the occasional pattering fall of a drop +of moisture from the roof. And truly this might prove our grave, I +thought, and none would find our bones in this heart of the cliff +through all the ages that would come. +</P> + +<P> +The flight seemed to have exhausted the last flicker of vitality in the +old man, for he sank down upon the blankets in a somnolent condition. +I could readily understand how his perpetual fear of discovery, +intensified through many years of solitude, had grown to be an +obsession, and how Leroux's idle threats had stimulated his weakened +will to one last effort to escape. +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline knelt by his side. She paid no attention to me, except that +once she asked for water. Pierre brought her some from the spring in a +tin cup, and when she raised her head I could see that her lip was +swollen from the blow of Leroux's fist. +</P> + +<P> +The old man's hands were moving restlessly. Jacqueline bent over him +and whispered, and he stirred and cried out petulantly. He missed his +roulette-wheel, his constant companion through those years, his coins, +and paper. In his way perhaps he was suffering the most of all. +</P> + +<P> +"I go now," Pierre announced. "To-morrow I come for you, take all +through tunnel. You stay here till I come; all sleep till morning." +</P> + +<P> +"I will go with you, Pierre," I said, still under my obsession. But he +laid his heavy hand upon my arm and pushed me away. +</P> + +<P> +"You no kill Simon," he answered. "Why you no kill him again when you +have sword? Only <I>diable</I> can kill him. When time come <I>diable</I> tell +old Caribou. You sleep now. I not work for you now. I go for take my +woman and gal safe through tunnel to place I know. When my woman and +gal safe I come back to <I>m'sieur</I> and <I>ma'm'selle</I>." +</P> + +<P> +It was a brave and simple declaration of first principles, and none the +less affecting, because it came from the lips of a faithful, ignorant +old man. It was just such simple loyalty that natures like Leroux's +never knew, frustrating the most cunning plans based on self-interest. +</P> + +<P> +I realized the strength of Pierre's argument. His duty lay first +toward his kin; then he would place his life at his master's service. +But he would have to cover many miles before he returned. +</P> + +<P> +He went without a backward glance; but I saw his throat heave, and I +knew what the parting meant to him. The feudal loyalty of the past was +all his faith. +</P> + +<P> +I flung myself down on my blanket. I was utterly exhausted, and with +that dead weariness which precludes sleep. The candle was burning low +and was guttering down upon one side, and a pool of hardening grease +was spreading over the table-top. +</P> + +<P> +I walked over to the table and blew it out. We must husband it; the +darkness in the cave would become unbearable without a candle to light. +</P> + +<P> +I lay down again. The silence was loneliness itself, and not rendered +less lonely by the occasional cries of the old man and the drip, drip +of water. I could not see anything, and Jacqueline might have been a +woman of stone, for she made not the least movement. +</P> + +<P> +But I felt her presence; I seemed to feel her thoughts, to live in her. +</P> + +<P> +At last I spoke to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +I heard her start, and knew that she had raised her head and was +looking after me. I crawled toward her, dragging my blanket after me. +I felt in the darkness for the place where I knew her hand must be and +took it in mine. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline," I said, "you know I did not steal your money, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Forgive me, <I>monsieur</I>," I heard her whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Forgive <I>me</I>, Jacqueline, for I have brought heavy trouble upon you. +But with God's aid I am going to save you both—your father and +you—and take you away somewhere where all the past can be forgotten." +</P> + +<P> +She sighed heavily, and I felt a tear drop on my hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline!" I cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, M. Hewlett"—the weariness of her voice went to my heart—"it +might have been different—if——" +</P> + +<P> +"If what, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"If there had not been the blood of a dead man between us," she moaned. +"If—you—had not—killed him!" +</P> + +<P> +Her words were a revelation to me, for I learned that she had +mercifully been spared the full remembrance of what had happened in the +Tenth Street apartment. She thought that it was I who had killed Louis +d'Epernay. +</P> + +<P> +And how could I deny this, when to do so would be to bring to her mind +the knowledge of her own dreadful guilt? +</P> + +<P> +The dotard stirred and muttered, and she whispered to him and soothed +him as though he were a child. Presently he began to breathe heavily, +as old men breathe in sleep. But Jacqueline crouched there in the same +motionless silence, and I knew that she was awake and suffering. +</P> + +<P> +And then my watch began hammering again, just as the alarm-clock had +hammered on that awful night in my apartment when I crouched outside +the door, not daring to go in. My mind was working against my will and +picturing a thousand possibilities. +</P> + +<P> +What was Leroux doing? He would act with his usual hammer force. All +depended on Pierre. +</P> + +<P> +The hours wore away, and we three lay there, two waiting and one +dreaming of the old days of youth, no doubt. I tried to light the +candle to see the time, but my shaking hand sent it flying across the +cave, and when I searched for my matches, I found that the box was +empty. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed an eternity since we had come there. It is one thing to wait +for dawn and quite another thing to wait where dawn will never come. +</P> + +<P> +It must be day. And still Pierre did not come. As I lay there, +listening for his returning footsteps, I heard Jacqueline breathe at +last. +</P> + +<P> +She was asleep from weariness after her long night's watch. Somehow +the thought that she had passed into the world of dreams comforted me. +For a brief time the dreadful accusation of murder had been lifted from +my head, and my numbed mind was free to follow my will and leave its +mad career of fancy. I could act now. +</P> + +<P> +Why should I not follow where Pierre had led? If Leroux had captured +him within his hut, as seemed only too likely, he would never return, +and we should wait in vain. And with each hour of waiting our chances +to escape grew less. +</P> + +<P> +I resolved to follow the exit for a little distance to see whither it +led, and if I could discover the light of day. +</P> + +<P> +So I took my sword and sallied out through the passage in the cliff. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AT SWORDS' POINTS +</H3> + + +<P> +I entered the tunnel, sword in hand, keeping both arms stretched out to +feel my way. I resolved that I would always keep the left hand in +contact with the wall upon that side, so that, in case the tunnel +should divide, by reversing the process I could ensure my safe return. +</P> + +<P> +I had only proceeded a few steps when the air grew cold and sweet. And +before I had traversed two hundred yards I saw a dim light in the +distance. This was no candle light, but that of day. So I had endured +all those agonies of mind with the open air but a short distance away! +</P> + +<P> +As I advanced I fancied that I heard the soft pattering of feet behind +me. +</P> + +<P> +I halted and listened intently. I crouched against the wall and +waited. But I heard nothing now except the distant roaring of the +cataracts. How sweet they sounded now! +</P> + +<P> +I listened intently, leaning against the wall and facing backward, +holding my sword ready to meet any intruder. But there was no sound +from within, except the soughing which one hears in a tunnel; and +satisfied at last that I had been the victim of an over-wrought +imagination, I pursued my course. +</P> + +<P> +The light grew brighter, but very slowly, until all at once I saw what +seemed to be the gleam of an electric arc-light immediately ahead. It +dazzled and half blinded me. +</P> + +<P> +I started backward; and then the noble morning star disclosed herself, +swinging in the sky like a blazing jewel in a translucent sea. +</P> + +<P> +Before me was a projecting piece of rock, which had shut off the view, +and but for that warning star I must have gone to my death. For my +foot was slipping on ice—and I was clinging to the cliff-wall upon the +other side of the tiny platform, where I had stood with Pierre, and the +Old Angel thundered over me. +</P> + +<P> +And, instead of noon, as I had thought it to be, it was only dawn, and +the distant sky was banded with faint bars of yellow and gold, and the +fresh morning air was in my nostrils. +</P> + +<P> +I picked my way back, inch by inch, across the ice which coated the +rocky floor for a few yards within the tunnel, until I stood in safety +again. +</P> + +<P> +The full purport of this discovery now came to me, and it filled me +with frantic joy. For, since the cave connected with that platform +beneath the cataract, it was evident that by crossing the ledge, a +dangerous but not precarious feat, I should enter the main tunnel again +and come out eventually beyond the hills, even allowing for a +preliminary blunder into the wrong track. +</P> + +<P> +The greatest danger lay in the possibility of Leroux or his aids lying +in wait for me somewhere within the tunnel, and I had not much fear of +that, for I did not believe they suspected that our cave connected with +the main passage. It was more likely that they would wait in +Duchaine's room till hunger drove us out. +</P> + +<P> +So I started back to Jacqueline. But I had not gone six paces before I +heard a scream that still rings in my ears to-day, and a shadow sprang +out of the darkness and rushed at me. It was old Charles Duchaine. +His white hair streamed behind him; his face bore an expression of +indelible horror and rage, and in his hand he held the other sword. +</P> + +<P> +With a madman's proverbial cunning he had pretended to be asleep; then +he must have followed me stealthily as I made my journey of +exploration; and now, doubtless, he ascribed all his wrongs and +sufferings to me and meant to kill me. +</P> + +<P> +His fears had snapped the last frail link that bound him to the world +of sense. +</P> + +<P> +He struck at me, a great sweeping blow which would almost have cut me +in two. I had just time to parry it, and then he was upon me, raining +blows upon my out-stretched sword. He was no swordsman, but slashed +and hewed in frenzy, and the steel rang on steel, and the rust from the +blades filled my nostrils with its sting. +</P> + +<P> +But, though his attack was wild, the vigor of his blows almost beat +down my guard. At last a random blow of mine swept the weapon from his +feeble old hand and sent it whirling down the cataract into the lake +below. +</P> + +<P> +Then he was at my throat, and it was fortunate that there was firm rock +instead of slippery ice beneath us, or we should both have followed the +sword. +</P> + +<P> +He linked his arms around me and wrestled furiously, and his weight and +height so much surpassed my own that they compensated for his weakness. +We swayed backward and forward, and the star dipped and swung over us, +as though we stood upon the deck of a rolling ship. +</P> + +<P> +"Calm yourself, for Heaven's sake, <I>monsieur</I>!" I gasped as I gained a +momentary advantage over him. "Don't you know me? I am your friend. +I want to save you!" +</P> + +<P> +But he was at me again, trying to lock his hands about my throat; and, +even after I had controlled him and pinned his arms to his sides, he +fought like a fiend, and never ceased to yell. On either hand the +rocks and tunnel gave back his howls with hideous echoes that rolled +into the distance as though a hundred demons were at strife. +</P> + +<P> +"You shall not take me! I have done nothing! It was years ago! Let +me go! Let me go!" he screamed. +</P> + +<P> +I released him for a moment, hoping that his disordered brain would +calm enough for him to recognize me, and that, when he saw my motives +were peaceful, he would grow quiet. +</P> + +<P> +But suddenly, with a final howl, he sprang past me, Sweeping me against +the wall, and leaped out on the ledge. +</P> + +<P> +I held my breath. I expected to see him stagger to his death below. +But he stood motionless in the middle of the little platform and +stretched out his arms toward the raging torrent, as though in +invocation. Then he leaped across with the agility of a wild sheep and +rushed on into the tunnel beyond. +</P> + +<P> +I drew my breath thickly and leaned against the wall, overcome with +nausea. The physical shock of the struggle was, however, less +appalling than the thought of Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +I had no hope that the old man would ever return, or that his crazed +brain remembered the way home to the cave. He would wander on through +the tunnels, either to perish in them miserably, or to emerge at last +into the snow beyond and die there. +</P> + +<P> +Unless Leroux found him. +</P> + +<P> +I started back, keeping this time to the right side of the tunnel, +until I heard the gurgling of the brook. Then I heard Jacqueline's +footstep. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is it?" she called wildly. "M. Hewlett! My father!" +</P> + +<P> +I caught her as she swayed toward me. "He has gone, Jacqueline," I +said. "I went into the tunnel to try to find the way. He had been +feigning sleep, and he crept after me. I tried to stop him. He was so +frightened that I thought it best to let him go. He ran on into the +tunnel——" +</P> + +<P> +"We must find him," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"He will come back, Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +"He will never come back!" she answered. "He must have been planning +this and waiting for me to sleep. For years he brooded over his +danger, suspecting everybody, and the shock of last night unhinged his +mind. He may be hiding somewhere. We must search for him." +</P> + +<P> +"Let us go, then, Jacqueline," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +In fact, there seemed to be no use in remaining any longer. If Pierre +were on his way back, we ought to meet him in the tunnel; and if he had +been captured, delay spelled ruin. +</P> + +<P> +So I led her back into the tunnel on what was to be, I hoped, our final +journey. We reached the ledge. The star had faded now, and the whole +sky was bright with the red clouds of dawn. +</P> + +<P> +Very cautiously we picked our way across the platform, clinging to the +wall. It was a hideous journey over the slippery ice, beneath the +thunder of the cataract; and when at length we reached the tunnel on +the other side, I was shaking like a man with a palsy. +</P> + +<P> +But, thank God, that nightmare was past. And with renewed confidence I +went on through the darkness, with Jacqueline at my side, feeling my +way by the deeper depression in the ground along the centre of the +tubular passage. +</P> + +<P> +At length I saw daylight ahead of me—and there was no sound of the +torrents. +</P> + +<P> +Fortune had led us where I had wanted her to lead—into the open space +where the gold was. From there I knew that I could strike the passage +which led into the sleigh road under the hills. Half an hour's travel +ought to bring us to the rocking stone at the entrance, and safety. +</P> + +<P> +But I found that I had entered the mine from a third point, and that +some forty feet away from the place where I had emerged before. This +time we were inside the cave in which Leroux and Lacroix had piled the +sacks of earth. +</P> + +<P> +I was looking out beyond them toward the rivulet, and on my right hand +and on my left the tunnel stretched away, leading respectively toward +the <I>château</I> and to the rocking stone at the entrance. +</P> + +<P> +I left Jacqueline in the cave for a few moments and went into the +smaller one near by, where I had seen the provisions on the preceding +day. I found a small box of hard biscuit, with which I stuffed the +pockets of my coat, and, happier still, a small revolver and some +cartridges, to which I helped myself liberally. +</P> + +<P> +Then I went back to Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +We must go on. Half an hour more should see us outside the tunnel +beyond the mountains. And this was the day on which Père Antoine would +be expecting me. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed incredible that so much could have happened in +four-and-twenty hours. +</P> + +<P> +But there was no sign of Charles Duchaine. And I did not intend to +jeopardize our future for the sake of the crazed old man. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline," I said, "let us go on. Perhaps your father is on his way +outside the tunnel." +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. "We must find him first," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +"But that is impossible," I protested. "How can we go wandering among +these dark passages when we do not know where he has gone? You know he +is invaluable to Leroux, and he will come to no harm with him. If we +get free, we can return with aid and rescue him." +</P> + +<P> +"We cannot go without my father," she answered, shaking her head in +determination. +</P> + +<P> +"But——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't you see that we <I>must</I> find him?" she cried wildly. "But +<I>you</I> must go. You cannot be burdened with me. Give up your hopeless +mission to rescue us, <I>monsieur</I>, and save yourself!" +</P> + +<P> +At that my hopes, which had been so high, went crashing down. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline," I said, "if we can find your father you will come with +me? Because it has occurred to me," I went on, "that if he had come +this way, his footprints would be in the mud beside the stream. It +would take an hour or two for them to fill up again. So, perhaps, he +did not come this far, but is hiding in some cave in the tunnel through +which we came. Will you wait for me here while I go back and search?" +</P> + +<P> +She nodded, and I went back into that interminable tunnel again. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BAIT THAT LURED +</H3> + + +<P> +I went along the tunnel in the direction of <I>le Vieil Ange</I>. It was +broad day now, and the distance between the cataract and the open +ground where the gold had been mined was sufficiently short for the +whole length of the passage to be faintly visible. +</P> + +<P> +It was a reach of deep twilight, brightening into sunlight at either +end. +</P> + +<P> +I picked my way carefully, peering into the numerous small caves and +fissures in the wall on either hand. And I was about half-way through +when I saw a shadow running in front of me and making no sound. +</P> + +<P> +It was Duchaine. There could be no mistaking that tall, gaunt figure, +just visible against the distant day. +</P> + +<P> +He was running in his bare feet and, therefore, in complete silence, +and he leaped across the rocky floor as though he wore moccasins. +</P> + +<P> +I raced along the tunnel after him. But he seemed to be endowed with +the speed of a deer, for he kept his distance easily, and I would never +have caught him had he not stopped for an instant at the approach of +the ledge. +</P> + +<P> +There, just as he was poising himself to leap, I seized him by the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine! M. Duchaine! Stop!" I implored him. "Don't you know +that I am your friend and only wish you well? I am your friend—your +daughter Jacqueline's friend. I want to save you!" +</P> + +<P> +He did not attempt violence, but gazed at me with hesitation and +pathetic doubt. +</P> + +<P> +"They want to catch me," he muttered. "They want to hang me. He has +got a gallows ready for me to swing on, because I killed a soldier in +the Fenian raids. But it wasn't I," he added with sudden cunning. "It +was my brother, who looks like me. He died long ago. Let me go, +<I>monsieur</I>. I am a poor, harmless old man. I shall not hurt anybody." +</P> + +<P> +I took his hand in mine. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine," I answered. "I wish you everything that is best in the +world. I am your friend; I want to save you, not to capture you. Come +back with me, <I>monsieur</I>, and I will take you away——" +</P> + +<P> +The wild look came into his eyes again. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no!" he screamed, trying to wrest himself from my grasp and +measuring the distance across the ledge with his eye. "I will not go +away. This is my home. I want to live here in peace. I want my +wheel! Monsieur, give me my wheel. I have perfected a system. +Listen!" He took me by the arm and spoke in that cunning madman's way: +"I will make your fortune if you will let me go free. You shall have +millions. We will go to Quebec together and play at the tables, as I +did when I was a young man. My system cannot fail!" +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine," I pleaded, "won't you come back with me and let us talk +it over? Jacqueline is with me——" +</P> + +<P> +"No, no," he cried, laughing. "You can't catch me with such a trick as +that. My little daughter has gone to New York to make our fortunes at +M. Daly's gaming-house. She will be back soon, loaded down with gold." +</P> + +<P> +I saw an opening here. +</P> + +<P> +"She <I>has</I> come back," I answered. "She is not fifty yards away." +</P> + +<P> +"With gold?" he inquired, looking at me doubtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"With gold," I answered, trying to allure his imagination as Leroux had +done. "She has rich gold, red gold, such as you will love. You can +take up the coins in your fingers and let the gold stream slip through +them. Come with me, <I>monsieur</I>." +</P> + +<P> +He hesitated and looked back into the darkness. +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid!" he exclaimed. "Listen, <I>monsieur</I>! There is a man +hiding there—a man with a sword. He tried to capture me to-day. But +I was too clever for him." He laughed with senile glee and rubbed his +hands together. "I was too clever for him," he chuckled. "No, no, +<I>monsieur</I>, I do not know who you are, but I am not going into that +tunnel alone with you. Perhaps you have a gallows there." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not want the gold, <I>monsieur</I>?" I cried in exasperation. "Do +you not want to see the gold that your daughter Jacqueline has brought +back from New York for you?" +</P> + +<P> +I grasped him by the arm and tried to lead him with me. My argument +had moved him; cupidity had banished for the moment the dreadful +picture of the gallows that he had conjured up. I thought I had won +him. +</P> + +<P> +But just as I started back into the tunnel, holding the arm of the old +man, who lingered reluctantly and yet began to yield, a pebble leaped +from the rocky platform and rebounded from the cliff. I cast a +backward glance, and there upon the opposite side I saw Leroux standing. +</P> + +<P> +There was something appalling in the man's presence there. I think it +was his unchanging and implacable pursuit that for the moment daunted +me. And this was symbolized in his fur coat, which he wore open in the +front exactly as he had worn it that day when we met in the New York +store, and as I had always seen him wear it. +</P> + +<P> +He stood bareheaded, and his massive, lined, hard, weather-beaten face +might have been a sneering gargoyle's, carved out of granite on some +cathedral wall. +</P> + +<P> +He stood half sheltered by the projecting ledge, and his aspect so +fascinated me that I forgot my resolution to shoot to kill. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Bonjour</I>, M. Hewlett," he called across the chasm. "Don't be afraid +of me any more than I am afraid of you. Just wait a moment. I want to +talk business." +</P> + +<P> +"I have no business to talk with you," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"But I did not say it was with you, <I>monsieur</I>," he answered in +sneering tones. "It is with our friend, Duchaine. <I>Holà</I>, Duchaine!" +</P> + +<P> +At the sound of Leroux's voice the old man straightened himself and +began muttering and looking from the one to the other of us undecidedly. +</P> + +<P> +In vain I tried to drag him within the tunnel. He shook himself free +from me and sprang out on the icy ledge, and he poised himself there, +turning his head from side to side as either of us spoke. And he +effectively prevented me from shooting Leroux. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you know your best friends, Duchaine?" inquired Leroux; and the +white beard was tipped toward the other side of the ledge. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know who my friends are, Simon," answered Duchaine, in his +mild, melancholy voice. "What do you want?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I want you, Charles, my old friend," replied Leroux in a voice +expressive of surprize. "You old fool, do you want to die? If you do, +go with that gentleman. He comes from Quebec on government business." +</P> + +<P> +But I could plead better than that. I knew the symbol in his +imagination. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Duchaine! Come with me!" I cried. "He has a gallows ready for you +back in that tunnel!" +</P> + +<P> +It was a pitiful scheme, and yet for the life of me I could think of no +other way to win him. And, as it happened, the word associated itself +in the listener's mind as much with the speaker as with the man spoken +of, for I saw Duchaine start violently and cling to the icy wall. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no!" he cried; "I won't go with either of you. I am a poor old +man. It was my brother who shot the soldier, and he is dead. Go away!" +</P> + +<P> +He burst into senile tears and cowered there, surely the most pitiful +spectacle that fate ever made of a man. The memories of the past +thronged around him like avenging demons. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly I saw him turn his head and fix his eyes upon Leroux. He +craned his neck forward; and then, very slowly, he began to walk toward +his persecutor. I craned my neck. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux was holding out—the roulette wheel! +</P> + +<P> +"Come along, Charles, my friend," he cried. "Come, let us try our +fortunes! Don't you want to stake some money upon your system against +me?" +</P> + +<P> +The old figure leaped forward over the ledge, and in a moment Leroux +had grasped him and pulled him into the tunnel. +</P> + +<P> +I whipped my revolver out and sent shot after shot across the chasm. +The sound of the discharges echoed and re-echoed along the tunnel wall. +</P> + +<P> +But the projecting ledge of rock effectively screened Leroux—and +Duchaine as well, for in my passion I had been firing blindly, and but +for that I should undoubtedly have killed Jacqueline's father. +</P> + +<P> +The mocking laughter of Leroux came back to me in faint and far-away +reply. +</P> + +<P> +I saw the explanation of the man's presence now. He must have met +Duchaine that morning as the old man was flying or wandering aimlessly +along the tunnel. They had reached <I>le Vieil Ange</I> together, and +Leroux had probably had little difficulty in inducing the witless old +man to take him back into the secret hiding-place. +</P> + +<P> +It was lucky that we had not been there when Leroux discovered it. We +must have crossed the ledge only a moment or two before them. +</P> + +<P> +I hastened back to Jacqueline, and encountered her in the passage just +where the light and darkness blended, standing with arms stretched out +against the wall to steady herself; and in her eyes was that look which +tells a man more surely than anything, I think, can, that a woman loves +him. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I thought you were dead!" she sobbed and fell into my arms. +</P> + +<P> +I held her tightly to support her, and I led her back to the gold cave. +In a few words I explained what had occurred. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Jacqueline, you must let me guide you," I said. "Don't you see +that there is no chance for us unless we leave your father for the +present where he is and make our own escape? We can reach Père +Antoine's cabin soon after midday, and we can tell him your father is a +prisoner here. He would not come with us, Jacqueline, even if he were +here. +</P> + +<P> +"And if he did, he might escape us on the way and wander back into the +tunnels again. Leroux has no cause to harm him. Surely you see that, +dear? He needs him—he needs his signature to the deed which is to +give him your father's share of the seigniory. Just as he wants you, +Jacqueline. And he shall never have you, dear. So I shall not let you +go back, or he would get you in the end. Unless——" +</P> + +<P> +I stopped. But she knew what I had thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Unless I kill myself," she answered wildly. "That is the best way +out, Paul! I am fated to bring nothing but evil upon every one with +whom I come in contact. Ah, leave me, Paul, and let me meet my fate, +and save yourself!" +</P> + +<P> +Again I pleaded, and she did not respond. It was the safety of us two, +and her father's life assured, against a miserable fate for her, and I +knew not what for me, though I thought Leroux would give me little +shrift once I was in his power again. +</P> + +<P> +She was so silent that I thought I had convinced her. I urged her to +her feet. But suddenly I heard a stealthy footfall close at hand, +between the cave and the cataract. +</P> + +<P> +I thought it was Charles Duchaine. I hoped it was Leroux. I placed my +finger on Jacqueline's lips and crept stealthily to the passage, +revolver in hand. +</P> + +<P> +Then, in the gloom, I saw the villainous face of Jean Petitjean looking +into mine, twelve paces away, and in his hand was a revolver, too. +</P> + +<P> +We fired together. But the surprize spoiled his aim, for his bullet +whistled past me. I think my shot struck him somewhere, for he uttered +a yell and began running back along the tunnel as hard as he could. +</P> + +<P> +I followed him, firing as fast as I could reload. But there was a +slight bend in the passage here, and my bullets only struck the walls. +So fortune helped the ruffian, for when I reached the light he was +scrambling across the ledge, and before I could cover him he had +succeeded in disappearing behind the projecting rock on the other side. +</P> + +<P> +So Leroux had already sealed one exit—that by the Old Angel, where the +road led into the main passage. God grant that he had not time to +reach the exit by the mine! +</P> + +<P> +If I made haste! If I made haste! But I would not argue the matter +any further. I ran back at full speed. I reached the cave. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! Come, come!" I called. +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer. +</P> + +<P> +I ran forward, peering round me in the obscurity. I saw her near the +earth-sacks, lying upon her side. Her eyes were closed, her face as +white as a dead woman's. +</P> + +<P> +White—but her dress was blood-soaked, and there was blood on the sacks +and on the stony floor. It oozed from her side, and her hand was cold +as the rocks, and there was no flutter at her wrist. +</P> + +<P> +The bullet from Jean Petitjean's revolver that missed me must have +penetrated her body. +</P> + +<P> +She lived, for her breast stirred, though so faintly that it seemed as +though all that remained of life were concentrated in the +faint-throbbing heart-beats. +</P> + +<P> +I raised her in my arms and placed a sack beneath her head, making a +resting-place for her with my fur coat. Then with my knife I cut away +her dress over the wound. +</P> + +<P> +There was a bullet-hole beneath her breast, stained with dark blood. I +ran down to the rivulet, risking an ambuscade, brought back cold water, +and washed it, and stanched the flow as best I could, making a bandage +and placing it above the wound. +</P> + +<P> +It was a poor effort at first aid, by one who had never seen a +bullet-wound before, and I was distracted with misery and grief, and +yet I remember how steady my hands were and with what precision and +care I performed my task. +</P> + +<P> +I have a dim remembrance of losing my self-control when this was done, +and clasping her in my arms and pressing my lips to her cold cheek and +begging her to live and praying wildly that she should not die. Then I +raised her in my arms and was staggering across the cave toward the +tunnel which led to the rocking stone. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SURRENDER +</H3> + + +<P> +I saw the light, the sun's rays bright on the cliff tops. Once in the +tunnel beyond that I could keep my pursuers at bay with my revolver, +even if I had to fight every inch of my way to freedom. +</P> + +<P> +And then, just as I approached the barricade of earth-filled bags, +Leroux and the man Raoul emerged from the tunnel's mouth and ran toward +me. +</P> + +<P> +If I had been alone and unencumbered, I believe I could have spurted +across the open and won free. But with Jacqueline in my arms it was +impossible. +</P> + +<P> +I stopped behind the barricade. +</P> + +<P> +Even so I was fortunate, for had they gained the cave before I did they +would have had me at their mercy like a rat trapped in a hole. +</P> + +<P> +They saw me and drew back hastily within the tunnel's mouth. I was +panting with the weight of my unconscious burden, and I did not know +what to do. My mind was filled with rage against my fate, and I +shouted curses at them and strode up and down, behind the bags. +</P> + +<P> +Presently I saw something white fluttering from the tunnel. It was a +white handkerchief upon a stick of wood, and slowly and gingerly Raoul +emerged into the open. +</P> + +<P> +At that instant I fired. The bullet whipped past his face, and with an +oath he dropped the stick and handkerchief too, and scuttled back to +shelter. +</P> + +<P> +Then Leroux's voice hailed me from the tunnel. +</P> + +<P> +"Hewlett!" he called, and there was no trace of mockery in his tones +now, "will you come out and talk with me? Will you meet me in the +open, if you prefer?" +</P> + +<P> +I fired another shot in futile rage. It struck the cliff and sent a +stone flying into the stream. +</P> + +<P> +Then silence followed. And I took Jacqueline and carried her back into +the little hollow place. I put my hand upon her breast. +</P> + +<P> +It stirred. She breathed faintly, though she showed no sign of +consciousness. +</P> + +<P> +And then I acted as a trapped animal would act. I raged up and down +the tunnel from cataract to cave, and at each end I fired wildly, +though there was no sign of any guard. Why should their guards expose +themselves to fire at me when they had me at their mercy? +</P> + +<P> +They could surprize me from either end, and I suppose I thought by this +trick to maintain the illusion of having some companion. Heaven knows +what was in my mind. But now I stood beneath that awful cataract +firing at the blind rock, and now I was back behind the earth-bags +shooting into the tunnel. +</P> + +<P> +And again I was at Jacqueline's side, crouching over her, holding her +hand in mine, pressing my lips to hers, imploring her to live for my +sake, or, if she could not live, to open her eyes once more and speak +to me. +</P> + +<P> +So the afternoon wore away. The sun had sunk behind the cliffs. I had +fired away all but six of my cartridges. Then the memory of my similar +act of folly before came home to me. I grew more calm. +</P> + +<P> +I understood Leroux's intentions—he meant to surprize me in the night +when I was worn out, or when I made a blind dash in the dark for the +tunnel. +</P> + +<P> +I felt my way around the cave with the faint hope that there might be +some other egress there. +</P> + +<P> +There was none, but I made out a recess which I had not perceived, +about one-half as large as the cave itself, and opening into it by a +small passage just large enough to give admittance to a single person. +Here I should have only one front to defend. +</P> + +<P> +So I carried Jacqueline inside and began laboriously to drag the bags +of earth into this last refuge. Before it had grown quite dark I had +barricaded Jacqueline and myself within a place the size of a hall +bedroom enclosed upon three sides with rock. +</P> + +<P> +And there I waited for the end. +</P> + +<P> +What an eternity that was! +</P> + +<P> +I strained my ears to hear approaching steps. I beard the gurgle of +the stream and the slow drip of water from the rocks, but nothing more. +The star-light was just bright enough to prevent an absolute surprize. +</P> + +<P> +But I was utterly fatigued. My eyes alone, which bore the burden of +the defence, remained awake; the rest of me was dead, from heavy hands +to feet, and the body which I could hardly have dragged down to the +stream again. +</P> + +<P> +I waited for the end. I sat beside Jacqueline, holding her hand with +one of mine, and my revolver in the other. There was a faint flutter +at her wrist. I fancied that it had grown stronger during the past +half-hour. +</P> + +<P> +But I was unprepared to hear her whisper to me, and when she spoke I +was alert in a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul!" she said faintly. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline!" +</P> + +<P> +"Paul! Bend down. I want to speak to you. Do you know I have been +conscious for a long time, my dear? I have been thinking. Are you +distressed because of me?" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear!" I said; and that was all that I could say. I clasped her +cold little hand tightly in mine. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whether I shall live, Paul," she went on. "But now +things have become much clearer than they were. When you wanted to +take me through the tunnel I knew that you were wrong. I knew that +even if we found my father I must still send you away, my dear. God +does not mean for us to be for one another. Don't you see why? It is +because there is the blood of a dead man between us that cannot be +wiped away. +</P> + +<P> +"That is the cause of our misfortunes here, and they will never end, +even if you can beat Leroux—because of that. So it could never have +been. Yes, I knew that last night when I lay by you, and I was +thinking of it and praying hard that I might see clearly." +</P> + +<P> +Her voice broke off from weakness, and for a long time she lay there, +and I clasped her hand and waited, and my eyes searched the space +beyond the bags. How long would they delay? +</P> + +<P> +Presently Jacqueline spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know, Paul, I don't think life is such a good thing as it used +to seem," she said. "I think that I could bear a great deal that I +would once have thought impossible. I think I could yield to Leroux +and be his wife to save your life, Paul." +</P> + +<P> +"No, Jacqueline." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Paul. If I live, my duty is with my father. He needs me, and he +would never leave the <I>château</I> now that his fears have grown so +strong. And, though he might come to no harm, I cannot leave him. And +you must leave me, Paul, because—because of what is between us. You +must go to Leroux and tell him so. You love me, Paul?" +</P> + +<P> +"Always, Jacqueline," I whispered. +</P> + +<P> +She put her arms about my neck. +</P> + +<P> +"I love you, Paul," she said. "It seems so easy to say it in the dark, +and it used to be so hard. And I want to tell you something. I have +always remembered a good deal more than you believed. Only it was so +dear, that comradeship of ours, that I would not let myself remember +anything except that I had you. +</P> + +<P> +"And do you know what I admired and loved you for, even when you +thought my mind unstable and empty? How true you were! It was that, +dear. It was your honour, Paul. +</P> + +<P> +"That was why, when I remembered everything that dreadful night in the +snow, the revulsion was so terrible. I ran away in horror. I could +not believe that it was true—and yet I knew it was true. +</P> + +<P> +"And Leroux was waiting there and found me. I did not want to leave +you, but he told me there was Père Antoine's cabin close by, and that +you would come to no harm. And he made me believe—you had stolen my +money as well. But I never believed that, and I only taunted you with +it to drive you away for your own sake." +</P> + +<P> +She drew me weakly toward her and went on: +</P> + +<P> +"Bend lower. Bend very near. Do you remember, Paul—in the train +going to Quebec—I lay awake all night and cried, at first for +happiness, to think you loved me, and then for shame, because I had no +right—though I did not remember who he was at the time, the shock had +been so great. That night—lying in my berth—I was shameless. I +slipped the wedding ring from my finger and hid it away so that you +should not know—because I loved you, Paul. And now that we are to +part forever, and perhaps I am to die, I can speak to you from my heart +and tell you, dear. Kiss me—as though I were your wife, Paul. +</P> + +<P> +"So you will go to Leroux?" she added presently. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that your will, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear," she said. "Because we have fought and now we are beaten, +Paul." +</P> + +<P> +I bowed my head. I knew that she spoke the truth. Slowly the passions +cleared from my own heart—passion of hate, passion of love. I knew at +last that I was vanquished. For, now that Jacqueline lay there so +weak, so helpless, and thinking all our past was but a dream, there was +nothing but to yield. I could not fight any more. +</P> + +<P> +Even though, by some miracle, the tunnel lay clear before us, to move +her meant her death. So I would yield, to save her life, and with me +Leroux might deal as he chose. +</P> + +<P> +So I left her and climbed across the bags and went down toward the +stream. +</P> + +<P> +But before I had reached it a dark figure slipped from among the +shadows of the rocks and came toward me; and by the faint starlight I +saw the face of Pierre Caribou! +</P> + +<P> +I was bewildered, for Pierre seemed like one of those dream figures of +the past; he might have come into my life long ago, but not to-day, nor +yesterday. +</P> + +<P> +He stopped me and held me by both shoulders, and he drew me into the +recesses of the rocks and bent his wizened old face forward toward mine. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, <I>monsieur</I>, so you did not obey old Pierre Caribou and stay in the +cave," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre, I did not know that you would return," I answered. "I thought +that we could find the same road that you had taken." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind," the Indian answered, looking at me strangely. "All +finish now. <I>Diable</I> take Leroux. His time come. <I>Diable</I> show me!" +</P> + +<P> +"How?" I answered, startled. +</P> + +<P> +"All finish," said Pierre inexorably, and, as I watched him, a +superstitious fear crept over me. He, who had cringed, even when he +gave the command, now cringed no longer, and there was a look on his +old face that I had only seen on one man's before—on my father's, the +night he died. +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre, where is Leroux?" I whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"No matter," he answered. "All finish now." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I surrender to him or shall I fight?" +</P> + +<P> +"No matter," he said once again. "<I>M'sieur</I>, suppose you go back to +ma'm'selle, and soon Simon come. His <I>diable</I> lead him to you. His +<I>diable</I> tell you what to say. All finish now!" +</P> + +<P> +He walked past me noiselessly, a tenuous shadow, and his bearing was as +proud as that of his race had been in the long ago, when they were +lords where their white masters ruled. He entered the passage at the +back of the mine, through which I had come when I encountered Lacroix +the first time with his gold. +</P> + +<P> +And as he passed I thought I saw Lacroix's face peering out at me +through the shadows of the caves. I started toward him. Then I saw +only the face of the cliff. My mind was playing me tricks; I thought +it had created that apparition out of my thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +I went back to Jacqueline and took my seat upon the earth-bag +barricade. I had my revolver in my hand, but it was not loaded. I +threw the cartridges upon the floor. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed only a few minutes before a voice hailed me from the tunnel. +</P> + +<P> +"M. Hewlett! Are you prepared to speak with M. Leroux?" +</P> + +<P> +It was Raoul's voice, and I answered yes. +</P> + +<P> +A moment later Leroux came from the tunnel toward me. I got down from +the barricade and met him at the stream. He stood upon one side and I +at the other, and the stream gurgled and played between us. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul Hewlett," said Leroux, "you have made a good fight. By God, you +have fought well! But you are done for. I offer you terms." +</P> + +<P> +"What terms?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"The same as before." +</P> + +<P> +"You planned to murder me," I answered, but with no bitterness. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that is true," answered Leroux. "But circumstances were +different then from what they are tonight. I am no murderer. I am a +man of business. And, within business limits, I keep my word. If I +proposed to break it, it was because I had no other way. Besides, you +had me in your power. Now you are in mine. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought then that you were in Carson's pay. That if I let you go +you would betray—certain things you might have discovered. But you +came here because you were infatuated with Mme. d'Epernay. Well, I can +afford to let you go; for, though my instincts cry out loudly for your +death, I am a business man, and I can suppress them when it has to be +done. In brief, M. Hewlett, you can go when you choose." +</P> + +<P> +"M. Leroux," I answered, "I will say something to you for your own +sake, and Mme. d'Epernay's, that I would not deign to say to any other +man. She is as pure as the best woman in the land. I found her +wandering in the street. I saved her from the assault of your hired +ruffians. I tried to procure a room for her at the Merrimac, and when +they refused her, I gave up my own apartment to her and went away." +</P> + +<P> +"But you went back!" he cried. "You went back, Hewlett!" +</P> + +<P> +"I can tell you no more," I answered. "Do you believe what I have said +to you?" +</P> + +<P> +He looked hard into my face. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he said simply. "And it makes all the difference in the world +to me." +</P> + +<P> +And at that moment, in spite of all, I felt something that was not far +from affection toward the man. +</P> + +<P> +"Père Antoine will marry you?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +"And her father?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is safe in the <I>château</I>, playing with his wheel and amassing a +fortune in his dreams." +</P> + +<P> +"One word more," I continued. "Mme. d'Epernay is very ill. She was +struck by one of those bullets that you fired through the door. Wait!" +for he had started. "I think that she will live. The wound cannot +have pierced a vital part. But we must be very gentle in moving her. +You had better bring the sleigh here, and you and I will lift her into +it. And then—I shall not see her again." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +LEROUX'S DIABLE +</H3> + + +<P> +I went back toward the cave. But I could not bring myself to see +Jacqueline. +</P> + +<P> +Instead, I paced the tunnel to and fro, wondering what my life was +going to be in future. Less than three weeks before no thought of love +had stirred me, and Jacqueline was undreamed of. Now she had entered +into my heart and twined herself inextricably around its roots. +</P> + +<P> +That I should love her till I died I did not doubt at all. +</P> + +<P> +Her last words had been in the nature of a farewell. There was no more +to say. Not even good-bye. I must go before that old, insatiable +longing for her arose in me again. +</P> + +<P> +I saw her in my mind's eyes as clearly as though she stood before me. +Her loving, gracious presence, her sweet, pure face, her courage, her +tenderness—all these were for Leroux. Nothing remained for me, except +my memories. +</P> + +<P> +I should have to make a great deal of my life. I had always believed +that life was only a prelude to greater and finer things. I was not +sure; I am not sure to-day; but if the life that is to come is not the +realization of our unfulfilled desires, then nothing matters here. I +was thinking of that as I paced the tunnel. And in that way I felt +that, in a measure, Jacqueline was still mine. +</P> + +<P> +"Everything that is free," she had said to me, "thoughts, will and +dreams." That part was mine; and that could never be taken away. +</P> + +<P> +I had reached the verge of the cataract and stood beside the little +platform, looking down. There was no star now like that which had +guided me in the morning, but the sky was fair and the air mild. I +gazed in awe at the great stream of water, sending its ceaseless +current down into the troubled lake below. +</P> + +<P> +How many ages it had done that! Yet even that must end some day, as +everything ends—even life, thank God! +</P> + +<P> +And then I saw Lacroix again. I was sure of it now. He was peering +after me from among the rocks, and, as I turned, he was scuttling away +into the tunnel. +</P> + +<P> +I followed him. I had always mistrusted the man; more, even, than +Leroux. I felt that his furtive presence there portended something +more evil than my own fate and Jacqueline's must be. +</P> + +<P> +I followed him hotly; but he must have known every fissure in the +cliff, for he vanished before my eyes, apparently through the solid +rock, and when I reached the place of his disappearance I could find no +sign of any passage there. +</P> + +<P> +Well, there was no use in following him further. I paced the tunnel +restlessly. The sleigh ought to be at the mine in five minutes more. +I turned back to take a last look at the cataract. +</P> + +<P> +The sublime grandeur of those thousand tons of water, shot from the +glacier's edge above, still held me in its spell of awe. I cast my +eyes toward the <I>château</I> and over the frozen lake toward the distant, +unknown mountains. +</P> + +<P> +Then I turned resolutely away. +</P> + +<P> +And at that moment I heard Leroux's voice hailing me, and looked round +to see him emerge from the tunnel at my side. He was staring in +bewilderment at the cataract. +</P> + +<P> +"Hewlett, I don't know what possessed me to take the wrong turn +to-night!" he cried. "I have come through that tunnel a hundred times +and never missed the path before." +</P> + +<P> +He swung round petulantly, and at that moment a shadow glided out of +the darkness and stood in front of him. It was Pierre Caribou, lean, +sinewy and old. He blocked the path and faced Leroux in silence. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux looked at him, and an oath broke from his lips as he read the +other's purpose upon his face. Squaring his mighty shoulders and +clenching his fists, he leaped at him headlong. +</P> + +<P> +Pierre stepped quietly aside, and Simon measured his full length within +the tunnel. But, when he had scrambled to his feet with a bellowing +challenge, Pierre was in front of him again. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you here for?" roared Leroux, but in a quavering voice that +did not sound like his own. "Get out of the way or I'll smash your +face!" +</P> + +<P> +The Indian still blocked the passage. "Your time come now, Simon. All +finish now," he answered. +</P> + +<P> +Simon drew back a pace and watched him, and I heard him breathing like +one who has run a race. +</P> + +<P> +"You come here one, two year ago," Pierre continued. "You eat up home +of M. Duchaine, my master. Old M. Duchaine my master, too. I belong +here. You eat up all, come back, eat up some more. Then you sell +Mlle. Jacqueline to Louis d'Epernay. You made her run 'way to New +York. I ask your <I>diable</I> when your time come. Your <I>diable</I> he say +wait. I wait. Mlle. Jacqueline come back. I ask your <I>diable</I> again. +He say wait some more. Now your <I>diable</I> tell me he send you here +to-night because your time come, and all finish now." +</P> + +<P> +The face that Simon turned on me was not in the least like his own. It +was that of a hopeless man who knows that everything he had prized is +lost. He had never cowered before anyone in his life, I think, but he +cowered now before Pierre Caribou. +</P> + +<P> +"Hewlett!" he cried in a high-pitched, quavering voice, "help me throw +this old fool out of the way." +</P> + +<P> +I spoke to Pierre. "Our quarrel is at an end," I said. "I am going +away. You must go, too." +</P> + +<P> +Pierre Caribou did not relax an inch of ground. +</P> + +<P> +Then a roar burst from Leroux's lips, and he flung himself upon the +Indian in the same desperate way as I had experienced, and in an +instant the two men were struggling at the edge of the platform. +</P> + +<P> +It was impossible for me to intervene, and I could only stand by and +stare in horror. And, as I stared, I saw the face of Lacroix among the +rocks again, peering out, with an evil smile upon his lips. +</P> + +<P> +Whether they fought in silence or whether in sound I do not know, for +the noise of the cataract rendered the battle a dumb pantomime. +</P> + +<P> +Pierre had pulled the Frenchman out to the middle of the ledge and was +trying to force him over. But Leroux was clinging with one hand to the +cliff and with the other he beat savagely upon his enemy's face, so +that the blood covered both of them. But Pierre did not seem to feel +the blows. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux, one-handed, was at a disadvantage. He grasped his antagonist +again, and the death-grapple began. +</P> + +<P> +It was a marvel that they could engage in so terrific a fight upon the +ice-coated ledge and hold their balance there. But I saw that they +were in equipoise, for they were bending all the tension of each muscle +to the fight, so that they remained almost motionless, and, thigh to +thigh, arm to arm, breast to breast, each sought to break the other's +strength. And I saw that, when one was broken, he would not yield +slowly, but, having spent the last of his strength, would collapse like +a crumpled cardboard figure and go down into the boiling lake. +</P> + +<P> +The cataract's half-sphere of crystal clearness framed them as though +they formed some dreadful picture. +</P> + +<P> +They bent and swayed, and now Leroux was forcing Pierre's head and +shoulders backward by the weight of his bull's body. But the Indian's +sinews, toughened by years of toil to steel, held fast; and just as +Leroux, confident of victory, shifted his feet and inclined forward, +Pierre changed his grasp and caught him by the throat. +</P> + +<P> +Leroux's face blackened and his eyes started out. His great chest +heaved, and he tore impotently at his enemy's strong fingers that were +shutting out air and light and consciousness. They rocked and swayed; +then, with a last convulsive effort, Leroux swung Pierre off his feet, +raised him high in the air, and tried to dash his body against the +projecting rock at the tunnel's mouth. +</P> + +<P> +But still the Indian's fingers held, and as his consciousness began to +fade Leroux staggered and slipped; and with a neighing whine that burst +from his constricted throat, a shriek that pierced the torrent's roar, +he slid down the cataract, Pierre locked in his arms. +</P> + +<P> +I cried out in horror, but leaned forward, fascinated by the dreadful +spectacle. I saw the bodies glide down the straight jet of water, as a +boy might slide down a column of steel, and plunge into the black +cauldron beneath, around whose edge stood the mocking and fantastic +figures of ice. The seething lake tossed them high into the air, and +the second cataract caught them and flung them back toward the Old +Angel. +</P> + +<P> +Their waters played with them and spun them round, caught them, and let +them go, and roared and foamed about them as they bobbed and danced +their devil's jig, waist-high, in one another's arms. +</P> + +<P> +At last they slid down into the depths of the dark lake, to lie forever +there in that embrace. And still the cataracts played on, sounding +their loud, triumphant, never-ending tune. +</P> + +<P> +I was running down the tunnel again. I was running to Jacqueline, but +something diverted me. It was the face of Lacroix, peering at me from +among the crevices of the rocks with the same evil smile. I knew from +the look on it that he had seen all and had been infinitely pleased +thereby. +</P> + +<P> +I caught at him; I wanted to get my hands on him and strangle him, too, +and fling him down, and stamp his features out of human semblance. But +he eluded me and darted back into the cliff. +</P> + +<P> +I followed him hard. This time I did not mean to let him go. +</P> + +<P> +Lacroix was running toward the gold-mine. He made no effort to dodge +into any of the unknown recesses of the caves, but ran at full speed +across the open space and plunged into the tunnel leading to the shore +by the <I>château</I>. +</P> + +<P> +I caught him near the entrance and held him fast. +</P> + +<P> +He struggled in my grasp and screamed. +</P> + +<P> +"Go back! For the love of God, go back, <I>monsieur</I>!" he shrieked. +"Let me go! Let me go!" +</P> + +<P> +He fought so desperately that he slipped out of my hands and darted +into the mine again, taking the tunnel which led toward the Old Angel, +and thence wound back toward the <I>château</I>. +</P> + +<P> +I caught him again before the cave where Jacqueline lay. I wound my +arms around him. A dreadful suspicion was creeping into my mind. +</P> + +<P> +He made no attempt to fight me, but only to escape, and his face was +hideously stamped with fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go!" he howled. "Ah, you will repent it! <I>Monsieur</I>, let me +go! I will give you a half-share in the gold. What do you want with +me?" +</P> + +<P> +What did I want? I did not know. It must have been the same instinct +that leads one to stamp upon a noxious insect. I think it was his joy +in the hideous spectacle beneath the cataract that had made me long to +kill him. +</P> + +<P> +But now a dreadful fear was dawning on me. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline!" I screamed. +</P> + +<P> +"I have not seen her," he replied. "Now let me go! Ah, <I>mon Dieu</I>, +will you never let me go? It is too late!" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he grew calm. +</P> + +<P> +"It is too late," he said in a monotonous voice, "You have killed both +of us!" +</P> + +<P> +And, with the sweat still on his forehead, he stood looking maliciously +at me. +</P> + +<P> +"If you had let me go," he said, "you would have died just as you are +going to die." +</P> + +<P> +I saw the face of the cliff quiver; I saw an immense rock, half-way up, +leap into the air and seem to hang there; then the ground was upheaved +beneath my feet, and with a frightful roar the rocky walls swayed and +fell together. +</P> + +<P> +And the rivulet became a cataract that surged over me and filled my +ears with tumult and sealed my eyes with sleep. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FULL CONFESSION +</H3> + + +<P> +Darkness impenetrable about me, and a thick air that I breathed with +great gasps that hardly brought relief to my choking throat. And a +voice out of the darkness crying ceaselessly in my ears: +</P> + +<P> +"Help me! Help me!" +</P> + +<P> +In that nightmare I saw again those awful scenes as vividly as though +they had been etched in phosphorus before my eyes. I saw the last +struggle of Pierre and Leroux, and I pursued Lacroix along the tunnel. +I saw the cliff toppling forward, and the rock poised in mid-air. +</P> + +<P> +And the voice cried: "Help me! Help me!" and never ceased. +</P> + +<P> +I raised myself and tried to struggle to my feet. I found that I could +move my limbs freely, I tried to rise upon my knees, but the roof +struck my head. I stretched my arms out, and I touched the wall on +either side of me. +</P> + +<P> +I must have been stunned by the concussion of the landslide. By a +miracle I had not been struck. +</P> + +<P> +"Help me! Help me!" +</P> + +<P> +I tried to find the voice. I crawled three feet toward it, and the +wall stopped me. But the voice was there. It came from under the +wall. I felt about me in the darkness, and my hand touched something +damp. I whipped it back in horror. It was the face of a man. +</P> + +<P> +There was only the face. Where the body and limbs ought to have been +was only rock. The face was on my side of a wall of rock, pinning down +the body that lay outstretched beyond. +</P> + +<P> +I recognized the voice now. It was that of Philippe Lacroix. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, <I>mon Dieu</I>! Help me! Help me!" +</P> + +<P> +He continued to repeat the words in every conceivable tone, and his +suffering was pitiable. I forgot my own troubles as I tried to aid +him. All my efforts were vain. There were tons of rock above him, and +under the inch or two of space where the rock rested above the ground I +felt the edge of a burlap bag. +</P> + +<P> +He had been pinned beneath the bags of earth and gold which he had +prized so dearly; the golden rocks were grinding out his life. He was +dying—and he could not take his treasures to that place to which he +must go. +</P> + +<P> +I felt one hand come through the tiny opening in the wall and grasp at +me. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is it?" he mumbled. "Is that you, Hewlett? For God's sake, kill +me!" +</P> + +<P> +I crouched beside him, but I did not know what to say or do. I could +only wait there, that he might not die alone. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me a knife!" he mumbled again, clutching at me. "A knife, +Hewlett! Don't leave me to die like this! Bring Père Antoine and my +mother. I want to tell her—to tell her——" +</P> + +<P> +He muttered in his delirium until his voice died away. I thought that +he would never speak again. But presently he seemed to revive again to +the consciousness of his surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you with me, Hewlett?" he whispered. +</P> + +<P> +I placed my hand in his, and he clutched at it with feverish force. +</P> + +<P> +"You will have the gold, Hewlett," he muttered, apparently ignorant +that I, too, was a prisoner and in hardly better plight. "You are the +last of the four. I tried to kill you, Hewlett." +</P> + +<P> +I said nothing, and he repeated querulously, between his gasps: "I +tried to kill you, Hewlett. Are you going to leave me to die alone in +the dark now?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," I answered. "It doesn't matter, Lacroix." And, really, it did +not matter. +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to kill you," his voice rambled on. "Leroux is dead. I +watched him die. I thought if—you died, too, no one but I would know +the secret of the gold. I tried to murder you. I blew up the tunnel!" +</P> + +<P> +He paused a while, and again I thought he was dying, but once more he +took up the confession. +</P> + +<P> +"There was nearly a quarter of a ton of blasting powder and dynamite in +the cave. You didn't know. You went about so blindly, Hewlett. I +watched you when I talked with you that night here. How long ago it +must have been! When was that?" +</P> + +<P> +I did not tell him it was yesterday. For it seemed immeasurably long +ago to me as well. +</P> + +<P> +"It was stored there," he said. "We had brought it up from St. +Boniface by sleigh—so carefully. Leroux intended to begin mining as +soon as Louis returned. And when he died I meant to kill you both, so +that the gold should all be mine. I told you it was here because I +thought you meant to kill me, but I meant to kill you when you had made +an end of Leroux. And you killed me. Damn you!" he snarled. "Why did +you not let me go?" +</P> + +<P> +He paused, and I heard him gasp for breath. His fingers clutched at my +coat-sleeve again and hooped themselves round mine like claws of steel. +</P> + +<P> +"I had a knife—once," he resumed, relapsing into his delirium; "but I +left it behind me and the police got it. Isn't it odd, Leroux," he +rambled on, "that one always leaves something behind when one has +killed a man? But the newspapers made no mention about the knife. You +didn't know he was dead, did you, Leroux, for all your cleverness, +until that fool Hewlett left that paper upon the table? You knew +enough to send me to jail, but you didn't know that it was I who killed +him. Help me!" He screamed horribly. "He is here, looking at me!" +</P> + +<P> +"There is nobody here, Philippe," I said, trying to soothe his agony of +soul. What a poor and stained soul it was, travelling into the next +world alone! "There is nobody but me, Philippe!" +</P> + +<P> +"You lie!" he raved. "Louis is here! He has come for me! Give me +your knife, Hewlett. It is for him, not for me. He deserved to die. +He tricked me after we had found the gold. He tricked me twice. He +told Leroux, thinking that he would win his gratitude and get free from +the man's power. And the second time he told Carson." +</P> + +<P> +My heart was thumping as he spoke. I hardly dared to hope his words +were true. +</P> + +<P> +"He was my friend," he mumbled. "We were friends since we were boys. +We would have kicked Leroux into the street if he had dared to enter +our homes. But we owed so much money. And he discovered—what we had +done. He wanted our family interest; he wanted to make use of us. And +when we found the mine, Louis thought we would never be in need of +money again. But Leroux was pressing him, threatening him. And so he +told him. Then there were three of us in the secret. +</P> + +<P> +"Leroux had formed a lumber company with Carson, but he did not tell +him about the gold. He formed his scheme with Louis. They said +nothing to me; they wanted to leave me out. Louis was to get the girl +and sell his rights to Simon. But afterward, when he had spent the +money Simon had given him, he thought he could get more out of Carson. +So he went to him and told the secret. That made four of us—four of +us, where there should have been only two." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you do?" I asked, though it was like conducting a postmortem +upon a murderer's corpse. +</P> + +<P> +"I went to New York to get my share. I wasn't going to be ousted, I, +who had been one of the discoverers. I don't know how much Carson paid +Louis, but I meant to demand half. I thought he had the money in his +pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"I followed him all that afternoon after he had left Carson's office. +I watched him in the street. At night he went to a room somewhere—at +the top of a tall building. I followed him. When I got in I found a +woman there. Louis was talking to her and threatening her. He said +she was his wife. How could she be his wife when he had married +Jacqueline Duchaine? +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't care—it was no business of mine. I couldn't see them, +because there was a curtain in the way. There was no light in the +bedroom. There was a light in the room in which I was. I put it out, +so that neither of them should see my face. She might have betrayed +me, you know, Simon. +</P> + +<P> +"He spun round when the light went out, and pushed the curtain aside. +I was waiting for that. I had calculated my blow. I stabbed him. It +was a good blow, though it was delivered in the dark. He only cried +out once. But the woman screamed, and a dog flew at me, and I couldn't +find his money. So I ran away. +</P> + +<P> +"And then there were only three of us who knew the secret. Then Simon +died and there were only two, and now there are only Hewlett and I, and +he is dead, poor fool, and I have my gold here. For God's sake give me +a knife, Simon!" +</P> + +<P> +His fingers tore at my sleeve in his last agony, and I was tempted +sorely. And it was his own knife that I had. The irony of it! +</P> + +<P> +He muttered once or twice and cried out in fear of the man whom he had +slain. I heard him gasp a little later. Then the hand fell from my +sleeve. And after that there was no further sound. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Paul!" +</P> + +<P> +It was the merest whisper from the wall. I thought it was a trick of +my own mind. I dared not hope. +</P> + +<P> +"Paul! Dearest!" +</P> + +<P> +This was no fancy born of a delirious brain and the thick fumes of +dynamite. It came from the wall a little way ahead of me. I crawled +the three feet that the little cave afforded and put my hands upon the +rock, feeling its surface inch by inch. There was a crevice there, not +large enough to have permitted a bird to pass—the merest fissure. +</P> + +<P> +"Jacqueline! Is that you, dear?" I called. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you, Paul?" she whispered back. +</P> + +<P> +"Behind the wall," I answered. "You are not hurt, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am lying where you left me, dear. Paul, I—I heard." +</P> + +<P> +"You heard?" I answered dully. What did it matter now? +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't you tell me, Paul? But never mind. I am so glad, dearest! +Can you come through to me?" +</P> + +<P> +I struggled to tear the rocks away; I beat and bruised my hands in vain +against them. +</P> + +<P> +"Soon," I muttered. "Soon. Can you breathe well, Jacqueline?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is all open, Paul. It is nearly dawn now." +</P> + +<P> +"I will come when it grows light, Jacqueline," I babbled. "When it +grows light!" +</P> + +<P> +She did not know that it would never grow light for me. Again I flung +myself against the walls of my prison, battering at them till the blood +dripped from my hands. Again and again I flung myself down hopelessly, +and then I tried again, clutching at every fragment that protruded into +the cave. +</P> + +<P> +And at last, when my despair had mastered me—it grew light. +</P> + +<P> +For a sunbeam shot like a finger through the crevice and quivered upon +the floor of the cave. And overhead, where I had never thought to +seek, where I had thought three hundred feet of eternal rock pressed +down on me, I saw the quiver of day through half a dozen feet of +tight-packed débris from the glacier's mouth. +</P> + +<P> +I raised myself and tore at it and sent it flying. I thrust my hands +among the stones and tore them down like the tiles from a rotten roof. +</P> + +<P> +I heard a shout; hands were reached down to me and pulled me up, and I +was on my feet upon a hillside, looking into the keen eyes of Père +Antoine and the face of the Indian squaw. +</P> + +<P> +And the Eskimo dog was barking at my side. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE END OF THE CHÂTEAU +</H3> + + +<P> +Only one thing marred the happiness of our reunion, and that was the +loss of Jacqueline's father. +</P> + +<P> +We had talked much over what had happened, and ten days later, when +Jacqueline had recovered from the shock and from what proved to be, +after all, only a flesh-wound, we had visited the scene of our rescue +by the old priest. +</P> + +<P> +The Indian woman had met him as she was returning home, and had told +him of our danger, and he had started out before dawn, to find that +there was no longer any entrance to the tunnel. Wandering in +bewilderment upon the mountains, he had reached the place where I was +buried at the moment of my final effort to break through the débris +overhead. +</P> + +<P> +Although the explanation seemed an impossible one, there was none other. +</P> + +<P> +The cliff, riddled with tunnels and eaten out by its numerous +subterranean streams, had fallen. The charge of dynamite exploded, as +it happened, beneath that part which buttressed the entire structure, +combining with the pressure of the glacier above, had thrown the +mountain on its side, filling the lake with several million tons of ice +and obliterating all traces of the <I>château</I>, which lay buried beneath +its waters. +</P> + +<P> +That was Père Antoine's explanation, and we realized at once that it +was useless to search for Charles Duchaine. The whole aspect of the +region had been changed; there was neither glacier nor cataract, and +the lake, swollen to twice its size and height, slept peacefully +beneath its covering of ice and snow. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +When we returned to the cabin we were amazed to see a sleigh standing +outside, and dogs feeding. Two men were seated at the priests table, +smoking. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Diable, monsieur</I>, don't you keep a stove in your house?" shouted a +well-known voice to Père Antoine. Then, as Jacqueline and I approached +the entrance, the man turned and sprang toward us with outstretched +hands that gripped ours and wrung them till we cried out in pain. +</P> + +<P> +It was Alfred Dubois. +</P> + +<P> +But I was stupefied to see the second man who rose and advanced toward +me with a shrewd smile. For it was Tom Carson! +</P> + +<P> +Presently I was telling my story—except for that part which more +intimately concerned myself and Jacqueline, and the narrative of the +murder, which I gave only as Lacroix had confessed it to me. +</P> + +<P> +A look of incredulity deepened on Tom's shrewd old face till, at the +end, he burst out explosively at me: +</P> + +<P> +"Hewlett, I didn't think I was a damned fool before—I beg your pardon, +miss. If any man had told me that I would have knocked him down. But +I am, I am, and want you to be my manager." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean that I have lied to you?" I asked indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Every word, Hewlett—every word, my son. That is why I want you back +with me. First you leave my employment without offering any reason; +then you take hold of my business affairs and try to pull off a deal +over my head, and then you tell me a yarn about a castle falling into a +lake." +</P> + +<P> +"But, M. Carson," interposed the priest, "I myself have seen this +<I>château</I> many times. And I have gone to the entrance and looked from +the mountain, too, and it is no longer there." +</P> + +<P> +"Never was," said Carson. "You fellows get so lonesome up in these +wilds that you have to see things." +</P> + +<P> +"But I heard the explosion." +</P> + +<P> +"Artillery practice down the Gulf." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me, M. Carson!" exploded Dubois. "Did I not say that I +would drive you here myself because I was anxious about a friend of +mine and his young bride who were in the clutches of that scoundrel, +Simon Leroux, who killed my brother? And did I not say that they were +in the <I>Château Duchaine</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, there may be a <I>château</I>, somewhere," Carson replied. "In fact, +there probably is. This man, d'Epernay, who is said to be dead now, +wanted to sell me the biggest gold mine in the world for fifty thousand +dollars, and from what I know of Leroux I am ready to believe that he +would try to hog it if it really exists. So, as I wanted to see how +our lumber development at St. Boniface was getting along, I thought I'd +come up here and investigate." +</P> + +<P> +"But how about Leroux?" I cried, more amused now than vexed. +</P> + +<P> +"That," answered Tom, "is precisely why I want to get hold of you +again, Mr. Hewlett." +</P> + +<P> +"But here is Mlle. Duchaine!" shouted the old priest in despair. +</P> + +<P> +Tom Carson raised his fat old body about five inches and made +Jacqueline what he took to be a bow. +</P> + +<P> +"Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss," he replied. "Ah, well, it +doesn't matter. I guess that man, d'Epernay, was lying to me. He +wanted to get a cash advance, and I got a little suspicious of him just +about then. However, I am ready to look at your gold mine if you want +me to." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to do some blasting then," I said, nettled. "It's just +about two hundred feet below the ground." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind," said Tom. "Lumber is better than gold. Next time I'm +here I shall be glad to have another look around. And now, Hewlett, if +you want a job at five thousand a year to start—to start, mind you, +you play fair and tell me where Leroux is hiding himself." +</P> + +<P> +I was too mortified to answer him. But I felt Jacqueline slip her hand +into mine, and suddenly the memory of the past made Tom's raillery an +insignificant affair. +</P> + +<P> +"Mind you," he pursued, "he'll turn up soon. He's got to turn up, +because the lumber company's all organized now and in fine running +order. What do you say, Hewlett?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"All right," he said, turning away with a shrug of his shoulders. +"Unpractical as ever, ain't you? Think it over, my son. Glad to have +met you, Mr. Priest, and as I'm always busy I guess Dubois and I will +start for home this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +Jacqueline looked at me, and I shook my head. I didn't want Tom to +witness it. But a word from Père Antoine changed the hostile tenor of +my thoughts to warm and human ones. +</P> + +<P> +"Messieurs," he said, "doubtless you know what day this is?" +</P> + +<P> +Tom started. "Why, good Lord, it—it's Christmas Day, isn't it?" he +asked, a little sheepishly. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a bigger day for us," I said to Tom. +</P> + +<P> +He squinted at me in his shrewd manner; and then he got up from the +table and wrung my hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Good luck to you both," he said. "Say, Mr. Dubois, I guess we can +pitch our tent here to-night—don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +Alfred Dubois was grappling with our hands again; but his onset was +less ferocious, because he had to loose us every now and then to slap +me on the back and blow his nose. +</P> + +<P> +"If only <I>la petite Madeleine</I> could be here!" he shouted. And I am +sure that was his dinner voice I heard. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +THE END +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Jacqueline of Golden River, by H. M. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jacqueline of Golden River + +Author: H. M. Egbert + +Illustrator: Ralph Pallen Coleman + +Release Date: September 28, 2005 [EBook #16771] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: He went without a backward glance . . . and I knew what +the parting meant to him.] + + + + + + +JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER + +BY + +H. M. EGBERT + + + + + + +FRONTISPIECE + +BY + +RALPH PALLEN COLEMAN + + + + + +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + +GARDEN CITY ---------- NEW YORK + +1920 + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY + +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF + +TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES + +INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN + + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY THE FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. A DOG AND A DAMSEL + II. BACK IN THE ROOM + III. COVERING THE TRACKS + IV. SIMON LEROUX + V. M. LE CURE + VI. AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFF + VII. CAPTAIN DUBOIS + VIII. DREAMS OF THE NIGHT + IX. THE FUNGUS + X. SNOW BLINDNESS + XI. THE CHATEAU + XII. UNDER THE MOUNTAINS + XIII. THE ROULETTE-WHEEL + XIV. SOME PLAIN SPEAKING + XV. WON--AND LOST + XVI. THE OLD ANGEL + XVII. LOUIS D'EPERNAY + XVIII. THE LITTLE DAGGER + XIX. THE HIDDEN CHAMBER + XX. AT SWORDS' POINTS + XXI. THE BAIT THAT LURED + XXII. SURRENDER + XXIII. LEROUX'S DIABLE + XXIV. FULL CONFESSION + XXV. THE END OF THE CHATEAU + + + + +JACQUELINE OF GOLDEN RIVER + + +CHAPTER I + +A DOG AND A DAMSEL + +As I sat on a bench in Madison Square after half past eleven in the +evening, at the end of one of those mild days that sometimes occur in +New York even at the beginning of December, a dog came trotting up to +me, stopped at my feet, and whined. + +There is nothing remarkable in having a strange dog run to one nor in +seeing the creature rise on its hind legs and paw at you for notice and +a caress. Only, this happened to be an Eskimo dog. + +It might have been mistaken for a collie or a sheepdog by nearly +everybody who saw it, though most men would have turned to admire the +softness of its fur and to glance at the heavy collar with the silver +studs. But I knew the Eskimo breed, having spent a summer in Labrador. + +I stroked the beast, which lay down at my feet, raising its head +sometimes to whine, and sometimes darting off a little way and coming +back to tug at the lower edge of my overcoat. But my mind was too much +occupied for me to take any but a perfunctory interest in its +manoeuvres. My eight years of thankless drudgery as a clerk, following +on a brief adventurous period after I ran away to sea from my English +home, had terminated three days before, upon receipt of a legacy, and I +had at once left Tom Carson's employment. + +Six thousand guineas--thirty thousand dollars--the will said. I had +not seen my uncle since I was a boy. But he had been a bachelor, we +were both Hewletts, and I had been named Paul after him. + +I had seen for some time that Carson meant to get rid of me. It had +been a satisfaction to me to get rid of him instead. + +He had been alternately a prospector and a company promoter all the +working years of his rather shabby life. He had organized some dubious +concerns; but his new offices on Broadway were fitted so +unostentatiously that anyone could see the Northern Exploitation +Company was not trying to glitter for the benefit of the small investor. + +Coal fields and timber-land somewhere in Canada, the concession was +supposed to be. But Tom was as secretive as a clam, except with Simon +Leroux. + +Leroux was a parish politician from some place near Quebec, and his +clean-shaven, wrinkled face was as hard and mean as that of any city +boss in the United States. His vile Anglo-French expletives were as +nauseous as his cigars. He and old Tom used to be closeted together +for hours at a time. + +I never liked the man, and I never cared for Carson's business ways. I +was glad to leave him the day after my legacy arrived. + +He only snorted when I gave him notice, and told the cashier to pay me +my salary to date. He had long before summed me up as a spiritless +drudge. I don't believe he gave another thought to me after I left his +office. + +My plans were vague. I had been occupying, at a low rental, a tiny +apartment consisting of two rooms, a bath, and what is called a +"kitchenette" at the top of an old building in Tenth Street which was +about to be pulled down. Part of the roof was gone already, and there +was a six-foot hole under the eaves. + +I had arranged to leave the next day, and a storage company was to call +in the morning for my few sticks of furniture. I had half planned to +take boat for Jamaica. I wanted to think and plan. + +I had nobody dependent on me, and was resolved to invest my little +fortune in such a way that I might have a modest competence, so that +the dreadful spectre of poverty might never leer at me again. + +The Eskimo dog was growing uneasy. It would run from me, looking round +and uttering a succession of short barks, then run back and tug at my +overcoat again. I began to become interested in its manoeuvres. + +Evidently it wished me to accompany it, and I wondered who its master +was and how it came to be there. + +I stooped and looked at the collar. There was no name on it, except +the maker's, scratched and illegible. I rose and followed the beast, +which showed its eager delight by running ahead of me, turning round at +times to bark, and then continuing on its way with a precision which +showed me that it was certain of its destination. + +As I crossed Madison Square the light on the Metropolitan Tower flashed +the first quarter. Broadway was in full glare. The lure of electric +signs winked at me from every corner. The restaurants were disgorging +their patrons, and beautifully dressed women in fine furs, accompanied +by escorts in evening dress, stood on the pavements. Taxicabs whirled +through the slush. + +I began to feel a renewal in me of the old, old thrill the city had +inspired when I entered it a younger and a more hopeful man. + +The dog turned down a street in the Twenties, ran on a few yards, +bounded up a flight of stone steps, and began scratching at the door of +a house that was apparently empty. + +I say apparently, because the shades were down at every window and the +interior was unlit, so far as could be seen from the street; but I knew +that at that hour it must contain from fifty to a hundred people. + +This place I knew by reputation. It was Jim Daly's notorious but +decently conducted gambling establishment, which was running full blast +at a time when every other institution of this character had found it +convenient to shut down. + +So the creature's master was inside Daly's, and it wished me to get him +out. This was evidence of unusual discernment in his best friend, but +it was hardly my prerogative to exercise moral supervision over this +adventurous explorer of a chillier country even than his northern +wastes. I looked in some disappointment at the closed doors and turned +away. + +I meant to go home, and I had proceeded about three paces when the lock +clicked. I stopped. The front door opened cautiously, and the gray +head of Jim's negro butler appeared. Behind it was the famous grille +of cast-steel, capable, according to rumour, of defying the axes of any +number of raiding reformers. + +Then emerged one of the most beautiful women that I had ever seen. + +I should have called her a girl, for she could not have been more than +twenty years of age. Her hair was of a fair brown, the features +modelled splendidly, the head poised upon a flawless throat that +gleamed white beneath a neckpiece of magnificent sable. + +She carried a sable muff, too, and under these furs was a dress of +unstylish fashion and cut that contrasted curiously with them. I +thought that those loose sleeves had passed away before the nineteenth +century died. In one hand she carried a bag, into which she was +stuffing a large roll of bills. + +As she stepped down to the street the dog leaped up at her. A hand +fell caressingly upon the creature's head, and I knew that she had one +servant who would be faithful unto death. + +She passed so close to me that her dress brushed my overcoat, and for +an instant her eyes met mine. There was a look in them that startled +me--terror and helplessness, as though she had suffered some benumbing +shock which made her actions more automatic than conscious. + +This was no woman of the class that one might expect to find in Daly's. +There was innocence in the face and in the throat, uplifted, as one +sees it in young girls. + +I was bewildered. What was a girl like that doing in Daly's at half +past twelve in the morning? + +She began walking slowly and rather aimlessly, it seemed to me, along +the street in the direction of Sixth Avenue. My curiosity was +unbounded. I followed her at a decent interval to see what she was +going to do. But she did not seem to know. + +The girl looked as if she had stepped out of a cloister into an unknown +world, and the dog added to the strangeness of the picture. + +The street loafers stared after her, and two men began walking abreast +of her on the other side of the road. I followed more closely. + +As she stood upon the curb on the east side of Sixth Avenue I saw her +glance timidly up and down before venturing to cross. There was little +traffic, and the cars were running at wide intervals, but it was quite +half a minute before she summoned resolution to plunge beneath the +structure of the elevated railroad. When she had reached the other +side she stood still again before continuing westward. + +The two men crossed the street and planted themselves behind her. They +were speaking in a tongue that sounded like French, and one had a patch +over his eye. A taxicab was crawling up behind them. I was sure that +they were in pursuit of her. + +The four of us were almost abreast in the middle of the long block +between Sixth and Seventh Avenues. We were passing a dead wall, and +the street was almost empty. + +Suddenly the man with the patch turned on me, lowered his head, and +butted me off my feet. I fell into the roadway, and at that instant +the second fellow grasped the girl by the arm and the taxicab whirled +up and stopped. + +The girl's assailants seemed to be trying to force her into the cab. +One caught at her arm, the other seized her waist. The bag flew open, +scattering a shower of gold pieces upon the pavement. + +And then, before I could get upon my feet again, the dog had leaped at +the throat of the man with the patch and sent him stumbling backward. +Before he recovered his balance I was at the other man, striking out +right and left. + +It was all the act of an instant, and in an instant the two men had +jumped into the taxicab and were being driven swiftly away. I was +standing beside the terrified girl, while an ill-looking crowd, +gathering from God knows where, surrounded us and fought like harpies +for the coins which lay scattered about. + +I laid my hands on one who had grabbed a gold piece from between my +feet, but the girl pulled at my arm distractedly. She was white and +trembling, and her big grey eyes were full of fear. + +"Help me!" she pleaded, clinging to my sleeve with her little gloved +hands. "The money is nothing. I have eight thousand dollars more in +my bag. Help me away!" + +She spoke in a foreign, bookish accent, as though she had learned +English at school. Fortunately for us the mob was too busily engrossed +in its search to hear her words. + +So I drew her arm through mine and we hurried toward Sixth Avenue, +where we took an up-town car. + +We had reached Herald Square when it occurred to me that my companion +did not seem to know her destination. So we descended there. I +intended to order a taxicab for her, had forgotten the dog, but now the +beautiful creature came bounding up to us. + +"Where are you going?" I asked the girl. "I will take you to your +home--or hotel," I added with a slight upward intonation on the last +word. + +"I do not know where I am going," she answered slowly. "I have never +been in New York until to-day." + +"But you have friends here?" I asked. + +She shook her head. + +"But are you really carrying eight thousand dollars about with you in +New York at night?" I asked in amazement. "Don't you know this city is +full of thieves, and that you are in the worst district?" + +For a moment it occurred to me that she might have been decoyed into +Daly's. And yet I knew it was not that sort of place; indeed, Daly's +chief desire was to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It was very +difficult to get into Daly's. + +"Do you know the character of the place you came out of?" I asked, +trying to find some clue to her actions. + +"The character?" she repeated, apparently puzzled at first. "Oh, yes. +That is Mr. Daly's gaming-house. I came to New York to play at +roulette there." + +She was looking at me so frankly that I was sure she was wholly +ignorant of evil. + +"My father is too ill to play himself," she explained, "so I must find +a hotel near Mr. Daly's house, and then I shall play every night until +our fortune is made. Tonight I lost nearly two thousand dollars. But +I was nervous in that strange place. And the system expressly says +that one may lose at first. To-morrow I raise the stakes and we shall +begin to win. See?" + +She pulled a little pad from her bag covered with a maze of figuring. + +"But where do you come from?" I asked. "Where is your father?" + +Again I saw that look of terror come into her eyes. She glanced +quickly about her, and I was sure she was thinking of escaping from me. + +I hastened to reassure her. + +"Forgive me," I said. "It is no business of mine. And now, if you +will trust me a little further I will try to find a hotel for you." + +It would have disarmed the worst man to feel her little hand slipped +into his arm in that docile manner of hers. I took her to the Seward, +the Grand, the Cornhil, and the Merrimac--each in turn. + +Vain hope! You know what the New York hotels are. When I asked for a +room for her the clerk would eye her furs dubiously, look over his book +in pretense, and then inform me that the hotel was full. + +At the Merrimac I sat down in the lobby and sent her to the clerk's +desk alone, but that was equally useless. I realized pretty soon that +no reputable hotel in New York City would accommodate her at that hour. + +We were standing presently in front of the _Herald_ office. Her hand +still touched my arm, and I was conscious of an absurd desire to keep +it there as long as possible. + +My curiosity had given place to deep anxiety on her account. What was +this child doing in New York alone, what sort of father had let her +come, if her story were true? What was she? A European? Too +unconventional for that. An Argentine? A runaway from some South +American convent? + +Her skin was too fair for Spanish blood to flow beneath it. She looked +French and had something of the French frankness. + +Canadian? I dared not ask her any more questions. There was only one +thing to do, and, though I shrank from the suggestion, it had to be +made. + +"It is evident that you must go somewhere to-night," I said. "I have +two rooms on Tenth Street which I am vacating to-morrow. They are +poorly furnished, but there is clean linen; and if you will occupy them +for the night I can go elsewhere, and I will call for you at nine in +the morning." + +She smiled at me gratefully--she did not seem surprised at all. + +"You have some baggage?" I asked. + +"No, _monsieur_," she answered. + +She _was_ French, then--Canadian-French, I had no doubt. I was hardly +surprised at her answer. I had ceased to be surprised at anything she +told me. + +"To-morrow I shall show you where to make some purchases, then," I +said. "And now, _mademoiselle_, suppose we take a taxicab." + +As her hand tightened upon my arm I saw a man standing on the west side +of Broadway and staring intently at us. + +He was of a singular appearance. He wore a fur coat with a collar of +Persian lamb, and on his head was a black lambskin cap such as is worn +in colder climates, but it seldom seen in New York. He looked about +thirty years of age, he had an aspect decidedly foreign, and I imagined +that he was scowling at us malignantly. + +I was not sure that this surmise was not due to an over-active +imagination, but I was determined to get away from the man's scrutiny, +so I called a taxicab and gave the driver my address. + +"Go through some side streets and go fast," I said. + +The fellow nodded. He understood my motive, though I fear he may have +misinterpreted the circumstances. We entered, and the girl nestled +back against the comfortable cushions, and we drove at a furious speed, +dodging down side streets at a rate that should have defied pursuit. + +During the drive I instructed my companion emphatically. + +"Since you have no friends here, you must have confidence in me, +_mademoiselle_," I said. + +"And you are my friend? Well, _monsieur_, be sure I trust you," she +answered. + +"You must listen to me attentively, then," I continued. "You must not +admit anybody to the apartment until I ring to-morrow. I have the key, +and I shall arrive at nine and ring, and then unlock the door. But +take no notice of the bell. You understand?" + +"Yes, _monsieur_," she answered wearily. Her eyelids drooped; I saw +that she was very sleepy. + +When the taxicab deposited us in front of the house, I glanced hastily +up and down the road. There was another cab at the east end of the +street, but I could not discern if it were approaching me or +stationary. I opened the front door quickly and admitted my companion, +then preceded her up the uncarpeted stairs to my little apartment on +the top floor. I was the only tenant in the house, and therefore there +would be no cause for embarrassment. + +As I opened the door of my apartment the dog pushed past me. Again I +had forgotten it; but it had not forgotten its mistress. + +I looked inside my bare little rooms. It was hard to say good-by. + +"Till to-morrow, _mademoiselle_," I said. "And won't you tell me your +name?" + +She drew off her glove and put one hand in mine. + +"Jacqueline," she answered. "And yours?" + +"Paul," I said. + +"_Au revoir_, Monsieur Paul, then, and take my gratitude with you for +your goodness." + +I let her hand fall and hurried down the stairs, confused and choking, +for there was a wedding-ring upon her finger. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +BACK IN THE ROOM + +The situation had become more preposterous than ever. Two hours before +it would have been unimaginable; one hour ago I had merely been +offering aid to a young woman in distress; now she was occupying my +rooms and I was hurrying along Tenth Street, careless as to my +destination, and feeling as though the whole world was crumbling about +my head because she wore a wedding-ring. + +Certainly I was not in love with her, so far as I could analyze my +emotions. I had been conscious only of a desire to help her, merging +by degrees into pity for her friendlessness. + +But the wedding-ring--what hopes, then, had begun to spring up in my +heart? I could not fathom them; I only knew that my exaltation had +given place to profound dejection. + +As I passed up the street the taxicab which I had seen at the east end +came rapidly toward me. It passed, and I stopped and looked after it. +I was certain that it slackened speed outside the door of the old +building, but again it went on quickly, until it was lost to view in +the distance. + +Had I given the pursuers a clue by my reappearance? + +I watched for a few moments longer, but the vehicle did not return, and +I dismissed the idea as folly. In truth, there was no reason to +suppose that the man I had seen in Herald Square was connected with the +two others, or that any of the three had followed us. No doubt the +third man was but a street-loafer of the familiar type, attracted by +Jacqueline's unusual appearance. + +And, after all, New York was a civilized city, and I could be sure of +the girl's safety behind the street door-lock and that of my apartment +door. So I refused to yield to the impulse to go back and assure +myself that she was all right. I must find a hotel and get a good +night's sleep. In the morning, undoubtedly, I would see the episode in +a less romantic fashion. + +As I went on, new thoughts began to press on my imagination. Such an +event as this, told in any gathering of men, why, they would smile at +me and call me the victim of an adventuress. The tale about the +father, the assumed ignorance of the conventions--how much could be +believed? + +Had she not probably left her husband in some Canadian city and come to +New York to enjoy her holiday in her own fashion? Could she innocently +have adventured to Daly's door and actually have succeeded in gaining +admission? Why, many a would-be gambler had had the wicket of the +grille slammed in his face by the old colored butler. + +Perhaps she was worse than I was even now imagining! + +I had turned up Fifth Avenue, and had reached Twelfth or Thirteenth +Street when I thought I heard the patter of the Eskimo dog's feet +behind me. I spun, around, startled, but there was only the long +stretch of pavement, wet from a slight recent shower, and the +reflection of the white arc-lights in it. + +I had resumed my course when I was sure I heard the pattering again. +And again I saw nothing. + +A moment later I was hurrying back toward the apartment-house. My +nerves had suddenly become unstrung. I felt sure now that some +imminent danger was threatening Jacqueline. I could not bear the +suspense of waiting till morning. I wanted to save her from something +that I felt intimately, but did not understand, and at which my reason +mocked in vain. + +And as I ran I thought I heard the patter of the dog's feet, pacing +mine. + +I was rounding the corner of Tenth Street now, and again the folly of +my behaviour struck home to me. I stopped and tried to think. Was it +some instinct that was taking me back, or was it the remembrance of +Jacqueline's beauty? Was it not the desire to see her, to ask her +about the ring? + +Surely my fears were but an overwrought imagination and the strangeness +of the situation, acting upon a mind eagerly grasping out after +adventure, being set free from the oppression of those dreadful years +of bondage! + +I had actually swung around when I heard the ghostly patter of the feet +again close at my side. I made my decision in that instant, and +hurried swiftly on my course back toward the apartment house. + +I was in Tenth Street now. It was half-past two in the morning, and +beginning to grow cold. The thoroughfare was empty. I fled, a tiny +thing, between two rows of high, dark houses. + +When at last I found my door my hands were trembling so that I could +hardly fit the key into the lock. + +I wondered now whether it had not been the pattering of my heart that I +had heard. + +I bounded up the stairs. But on the top story I had to pause to get my +breath, and then I dared not enter. I listened outside. There was no +sound from within. + +The two rooms that I occupied were separated only by a curtain, which +fell short a foot from the floor and was slung on a wooden pole, +disclosing two feet between the top of it and the ceiling. The rooms +were thus actually one, and even that might have been called small, for +the bed in the rear room was not a dozen paces from the door. + +I listened for the breathing of the sleeping girl. My intelligence +cried out upon my folly, telling me that my appearance there would +terrify her; and yet that clamorous fear that beat at my heart would +not be silenced. + +If I could hear her breathe, I thought, I would go quietly away, and +find a hotel in which to sleep. I listened minute after minute, but I +could not hear a sound. + +At last I put my mouth to the keyhole and spoke to her. "Jacqueline," +I called. The name sounded as strange and sweet on my own lips as it +had sounded on hers when she told it to me. I waited. + +There was no answer. + +Then a little louder: "Jacqueline!" + +And then quite loudly: "Jacqueline!" + +I listened, dreading that she would cry out in alarm, but the same dead +silence followed. + +Then, out of the silence, hammering on my eardrums, burst the loud +ticking of the little alarm-clock that I had left on the mantel of the +bedroom. I heard that, and it must have been ticking minutes before +the sound reached me; perhaps if I waited a little longer I should hear +her breathing. + +The alarm-clock was one of that kind which, when set to "repeat," +utters a peculiar little click every two hundred and eighth stroke +owing to a catch in the mechanism. Formerly it had annoyed me +inexpressibly, and I would lie awake for hours waiting for that tiny +sound. Now I could hear even that, and heard it repeat and repeat +itself; but I could not hear Jacqueline breathe. + +I took the key of the apartment door from my pocket at last and fitted +it noiselessly into the lock. I stood there, trembling and irresolute. +I dared not turn the key. The hall door gave immediately upon the +rooms without a private passage, and at the moment when I opened the +door I should be practically inside my bedroom save for the intervening +curtain. + +Once more I ventured: + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" + +There was not the smallest answering stir within. And so, with shaking +fingers, I turned the key. + +The door creaked open with a noise that must have sounded throughout +the empty house. I recollected then that it was impossible to keep it +shut without locking it. The landlord had long ago ceased to concern +himself with his tumble-down property. + +I caught at the door-edge, missed it and, tripping over a rent in the +cheap mat that lay against the door inside, stumbled against the +table-edge and clung there. + +And even after I had caught at it, and stayed my fall, that infernal +door went creaking, creaking backward till it brought up against the +wall. + +The room was completely dark, except for a little patch of light high +up on the bedroom wall, which came through the hole the workmen had +made when they began demolishing the building. I hesitated a moment; +then I drew a match from my pocket and rubbed it softly into a flame +against my trouser leg. + +I reached up to the gas above the table, turned it on, and lit the +incandescent mantle, lowering the light immediately. But even then +there was no sound from behind the curtains. + +They hung down close together, so that I was able to see only the +gas-blackened ceiling above them and, underneath, the lower edge of the +bed linen, and the bed-frame at the base, with its enamelled iron feet, +The sheets hung straight, as though the bed had not been occupied; but, +though there was no sound, I knew Jacqueline was at the back of the +curtains. + +The oppressive stillness was not that of solitude. She must be awake; +she must be listening in terror. + +I went toward the curtains, and when I spoke I heard the words come +through my lips in a voice that I could not recognize as mine. + +"Jacqueline!" I whispered, "it is Paul. Paul, your friend. Are you +safe, Jacqueline?" + +Now I saw, under the curtains, what looked like the body of a very +small animal. It might have been a woolly dog, or a black lambkin, and +it was lying perfectly still. + +I pulled aside the curtains and stood between them, and the scene +stamped itself upon my brain, as clear as a photographic print, for +ever. + +The woolly beast was the fur cap of a dead man who lay across the floor +of the little room. One foot was extended underneath the bed, and the +head reached to the bottom of the wall on the other side of the room. +He lay upon his back, his eyes open and staring, his hands clenched, +and his features twisted into a sneering smile. + +His fur overcoat, unbuttoned, disclosed a warm knit waistcoat of a +gaudy pattern, across which ran the heavy links of a gold chain. There +was a tiny hole in his breast, over the heart, from which a little +blood had flowed. The wound had pierced the heart, and death had +evidently been instantaneous. + +It was the man whom I had seen staring at us across Herald Square. + +Beside the window Jacqueline crouched, and at her feet lay the Eskimo +dog, watching me silently. In her hand she held a tiny, dagger-like +knife, with a thin, red-stained blade. Her grey eyes, black in the +gas-light, stared into mine, and there was neither fear nor recognition +in them. She was fully dressed, and the bed had not been occupied. + +I flung myself at her feet. I took the weapon from her hand. +"Jacqueline!" I cried in terror. I raised her hands to my lips and +caressed them. + +She seemed quite unresponsive. + +I laid them against my cheek. I called her by her name imploringly; I +spoke to her, but she only looked at me and made no answer. Still it +was evident to me that she heard and understood, for she looked at me +in a puzzled way, as if I were a complete stranger. She did not seem +to resent my presence there, and she did not seem afraid of the dead +man. She seemed, in a kindly, patient manner, to be trying to +understand the meaning of the situation. + +"Jacqueline," I cried, "you are not hurt? Thank God you are not hurt. +What has happened?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "I don't know where I am." + +I kneeled down at her side and put my arms about her. + +"Jacqueline, dear;" I said, "will you not try to think? I am +Paul--your friend Paul. Do you not remember me?" + +"No, monsieur," she sighed. + +"But, then, how did you come here, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +"I do not know," she answered. And, a moment later, "I do not know, +Paul." + +That encouraged me a little. Evidently she remembered what I had just +said to her. + +"Where is your home, Jacqueline?" + +"I do not know," she answered in an apathetic voice, devoid of interest. + +There was something more to be said, though it was hard. + +"Jacqueline, who--was--that?" + +"Who?" she inquired, looking at me with the same patient, wistful gaze. + +"That man, Jacqueline. That dead man." + +"What dead man, Paul?" + +She was staring straight at the body, and at that moment I realized +that she not only did not remember, but did not even see it. + +The shock which she had received, supervening upon the nervous state in +which she had been when I encountered her, had produced one of those +mental inhibitions in which the mind, to save the reason, obliterates +temporarily not only all memory of the past, but also all present +sights and sounds which may serve to recall it. She looked idly at the +body of the dead man, and I was sure that she saw nothing but the worn +woodwork of the floor. + +I saw that it was useless to say anything more upon this subject. + +"You are very tired, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +"Yes, _monsieur_," she answered, leaning back against my arm. + +"And you would like to sleep?" + +"Yes, _monsieur_." + +I raised her in my arms and laid her on the bed, telling her to close +her eyes and sleep. She was asleep almost immediately after her head +rested Upon the pillow. She breathed as softly as an infant. + +I watched her for a while until I heard a distant clock strike three. +This recalled me to the dangers of our situation. I struck a match and +lit the gas in the bedroom. But the yellow glare was so ghastly and +intolerable that I turned it down. + +And then I set about the task before me. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +COVERING THE TRACKS + +I thought quickly, and my consciousness seemed to embrace all the +details of the situation with a keenness foreign to my nature. + +Once, I believe, I had been able to play an active part among the men +who were my associates in that adventurous life that lay so far behind +me. But eight years of clerkship had reduced me to the condition of +one who waits on the command of others. Now my irresolution vanished +for the time, and I was my old self once more. + +The first task was the disposal of the body in such a way that +suspicion would not attach itself to me after I had vacated the rooms +next morning. + +There was a fire-escape running up to the floor of that room on the +outside of the house, though there was no egress to it. It had been +put up by the landlord to satisfy the requirements of some new law; but +had never been meant for use, and it was constructed of the flimsiest +and cheapest ironwork. I saw that it would be possible by standing on +a chair to swing myself up to the hole in the wall and reach down to +the iron stairs up which, I assumed, the dead man had crept after I had +given him the hint of Jacqueline's abode by emerging from the front +door. + +I raised the dead man in my arms, looking apprehensively toward the +bed. I was afraid Jacqueline would awaken, but she slept in heavy +peace, undisturbed by the harsh creaking of the sagging floor beneath +its double burden. I put the fur cap on the grotesque, nodding dead +head, and, pushing a chair toward the wall with my foot, mounted it and +managed with a great effort to squeeze through the hole, pulling up the +body with me as I did so. + +Then I felt with my foot for the little platform at the top of the iron +stairs outside, found it, and dropped. Afterward I dragged the +dreadful burden down from the hole. + +I had not known that I was strong before, and I do not understand now +how I managed to accomplish my wretched task. + +I carried the dead man all the way down the fire-escape, clinging and +straining against the rotting, rusting bars, which bent and cracked +beneath my weight and seemed about to break and drag down the entire +structure from the wall. + +I hardly paused at the platforms outside the successive stories. The +weather was growing very cold, a storm was coming up, and the wind +soughed and whined dismally around the eaves. + +I reached the bottom at last and rested for a moment. + +At the back of the house was a little vacant space, filled with heaps +of debris from the demolished portions of the building and with refuse +which had been dumped there by tenants who had left and had never been +removed. This yard was separated only by a rotting fence with a single +wooden rail from a small blind alley. + +The alley had run between rows of stables in former days when this was +a fashionable quarter, but now these were mostly unoccupied, save for a +few more pretentious ones at the lower end, which were being converted +into garages. + +Everywhere were heaps of brick, piles of rain-rotted wood, and +rubbish-heaps. + +I took up my burden and placed it at the end of the alley, covering it +roughly with some old burlap bags which lay there. I thought it safe +to assume that the police would look upon the dead man as the victim of +some footpad. It was only remotely possible that suspicion would be +directed against any occupant of any of the houses bordering on the +_cul-de-sac_. + +I did not search the dead man's pockets. I cared nothing who he was, +and did not want to know. My sole desire was to acquit Jacqueline of +his death in the world's eyes. + +That he had come deservedly by it I was positive. I was her sole +protector now, and I felt a furious resolve that no one should rob me +of her. + +The ground was as hard as iron, and I was satisfied that my footsteps +had left no track; there would be snow before morning, and if my feet +had left any traces these would be covered effectively. + +Four o'clock was striking while I was climbing back into the room +again. Jacqueline lay on the bed in the same position; she had not +stirred during that hour. While she slept I set about the completion +of my task. + +I took the knife from the floor where I had flung it, scrubbed it, and +placed it in my suit-case. Then I scrubbed the floor clean, afterward +rubbing it with a soiled rag to make its appearance uniform. + +I washed my hands, and thought I had finally removed all traces of the +affair; but, coming back, I perceived something upon the floor which +had escaped my notice. It was the leather collar of the Eskimo dog, +with its big silver studs and the maker's silver name-plate. + +All this while the animal had remained perfectly quiet in the room +crouching at Jacqueline's feet and beside the bed. It had not +attempted to molest me, as I had feared might be the case during the +course of my gruesome work. + +I came to the conclusion that there might have been a struggle; that it +had run to its mistress's assistance, and that the collar had been torn +from it by the dead man. + +My first thought was to put the collar back upon the creature's neck; +but then I came to the conclusion that this might possibly serve as a +means of identification. And it was essential that no one should be +able to identify the dog. + +So I picked the collar up and carried it into the next room and held it +under the light of the incandescent gas-mantle. The letters of the +maker's name were almost obliterated, but after a careful study I was +able to make them out. The name was Maclay & Robitaille, and the place +of manufacture Quebec. This confirmed my belief concerning +Jacqueline's nativity. + +I pried the plate from the leather and slipped it into my pocket. I +put the broken collar into my suitcase, together with the dagger, and +then I set about packing my things for the journey which we were to +undertake. + +I had always accustomed myself to travel with a minimum of baggage, and +the suit-case, which was a roomy one, held all that I should need at +any time. When I had finished packing I went back to Jacqueline and +sat beside her while she slept. As I sat dawn I heard a city clock +strike five. + +In a little while it would begin to lighten, and the advent of the day +filled me with a sort of terror. + +I watched the sleeping girl. Who was she? How could she sleep calmly +after that night's deed? The mystery seemed unfathomable; the girl +alone in the city, the robbers, the dog, the dead man, and the one who +had escaped me. + +Jacqueline's bag lay on the bureau and disgorging bills. There were +rolls and rolls of them--eight thousand dollars did not seem too much. + +Besides these, the bag contained the usual feminine properties: a +handkerchief, sachet-bag, a pocket mirror, and some thin papers, coated +with rice-powder. + +The thought crossed my mind that the bills might be counterfeit, and I +picked one up and looked carefully at it, comparing it with one from my +own pocketbook. But I was soon satisfied that they were real. Well--I +turned back to Jacqueline, ashamed of the suspicion that had crossed my +mind. + +Her soft brown hair streamed over the pillow and hung down toward the +floor, a heavy mass, uncoiled from the wound braids upon her neck. Her +breast rose and fell evenly with her breathing. She looked even +younger than on the preceding evening. I was sure now that she was +innocent of evil, and my unworthy thoughts made me ashamed. Her +outstretched arm was extended beyond the edge of the bed. + +I raised her hand and held in it my own, and I sat thus until the room +began to lighten, watching her all the while. + +It was strange that as I sat there I began to grow comforted. I looked +on her as mine. When I had kissed her hands I had forgotten the ring +upon her finger; and now, holding that hand in mine and running my +fingers round and round the circlet of gold, I was not troubled at all. +I could not think of her as any other man's. She was mine--Jacqueline. + +Presently she stirred, her eyes opened, and she sat up. I placed a +pillow at her back. She gazed at me with apathy, but there was also +recognition in her look. + +"Do you know me, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +"Yes, Paul," she answered. + +"Your friend?" + +"My friend, Paul." + +"Jacqueline, I am going to take you home," I said, hoping that she +would tell me something, but I dared ask her no more. I meant to take +her to Quebec and make inquiries there. Thus I hoped to learn +something of her, even if the sight of the town did not awaken her +memories. + +"I am going to take you home, Jacqueline," I repeated. + +"Yes, Paul," she answered in that docile manner of hers. + +"It is lucky you have your furs, because the winter is cold where your +home is." + +"Yes, Paul," she repeated as before, and a few more probings on my part +convinced me that she remembered nothing at all. Her mind was like a +person's newly awakened in a strange land. But this state brought with +it no fear, only a peaceful quietude and faith which was very touching. + +"We have forgotten a lot of things that troubled us, haven't we, Paul?" +she asked me presently. "But we shall not care, since we have each +other for friends. And afterwards perhaps we shall pick them up again. +Do you not think so, Paul?" + +"Yes, Jacqueline," I answered. + +"If we remembered now the memory of them might make us unhappy," she +continued wistfully. "Do you not think so, Paul?" + +"Yes, Jacqueline." + +There was a faint and vague alarm in her eyes which made me glad for +her sake that she did not know. + +"Now, Jacqueline," I said, "we shall have to begin to make ready for +our journey." + +I had just remembered that the storage company which was to warehouse +my few belongings was to call that day. The van would probably be at +the house early in the morning, and it was essential that we should be +gone before it arrived. + +Fortunately I had arranged to leave the door unlocked in case my +arrangements necessitated my early departure, and this was understood, +so that my absence would cause no surprise. + +I showed Jacqueline the bathroom and drew the curtains. Then I went +into the kitchenette and made coffee on the gas range, and, since it +was too early for the arrival of my morning loaf, which was placed just +within the street door by the baker's boy every day, I made some toast +and buttered it. + +I remember reflecting, with a relic of my old forced economy, how +fortunate it was that my pound of butter had just lasted until the +morning when I was to break up housekeeping. + +When I took in the breakfast Jacqueline was waiting for me, looking +very dainty and charming. She was hungry, too, also a good sign. + +She did not seem to understand that there was anything strange in the +situation in which we found ourselves. I did not know whether this was +due to her mental state or to that strange unsophistication which I had +already observed in her. At any rate, we ate our breakfast together as +naturally as though we were a married couple of long standing. + +After the meal was ended, and we had fed the dog, Jacqueline insisted +on washing the dishes, and I showed her the kitchenette and let her do +so, though I should never have need for the cheap plates and cups again. + +"Now, Jacqueline, we must go," I said. + +I placed her neckpiece about her. I closed her bag, stuffing the bills +inside, and hung it on her arm. I could not resist a smile to see the +little pad covered with its maze of figures among the rolls of money. +I was afraid that the sight of it would awaken her memories, but she +only looked quietly at it and put it away. + +I wanted her to let me bank her money for her, but did not like to ask +her. However, of her own account she took out the bills and handed +them to me. + +"What a lot of money I have," she said. "I hardly thought there was so +much money in the world, Paul." + +It was past eight when we left the house. I carried my suit-case and, +stopping at a neighbouring express office, had it sent to the Grand +Central station. And then I decided to take the dog to the animal's +home. + +I did not like to do so, but was afraid, in the necessity of protecting +Jacqueline, that its presence might possibly prove embarrassing, so I +took it there and left it, with instructions that it was to be kept +until I sent for it. I paid a small sum of money and we departed, +Jacqueline apparently indifferent to what I had done, though the +animal's distress at being parted from her disturbed my conscience a +good deal. + +Still it seemed the only thing to do under our circumstances. + +Quebec, then, was my objective, and with no further clue than the +dog-collar. There were two trains, I found, at three and at nine. The +first, which I proposed to take, would bring us to our destination soon +after nine the next day, but our morning was to be a busy one, and it +would be necessary to make our preparations quickly. + +A little snow was on the ground, but the sun shone brightly, and I felt +that the shadows of the night lay behind us. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SIMON LEROUX + +With Jacqueline's arm drawn through mine I paid a visit to the bank in +which I had deposited my legacy, and drew out fifteen hundred dollars, +next depositing Jacqueline's money to my own account. It amounted to +almost exactly eight thousand dollars. + +The receiving teller must have thought me an eccentric to carry so +large a sum, and I know he thought that Jacqueline and I had just been +married, for I saw him smile over the entry that he made in my bank +book. + +I wanted to deposit her money in her own name, but this would have +involved inquiries and explanations which I was not in a position to +satisfy. So there was nothing to do but deposit it in my own, and +afterward I could refund it to her. + +I said that the receiving teller smiled--he wore that indescribable +congratulatory look with which it is the custom to favor the newly +married. + +In fact, we were exactly like a honeymoon couple. Although I +endeavored to maintain an air of practical self-assurance there was now +a new shyness in her manner, an atmosphere of undefinable but very real +sweetness in the relationship between us which set my heart hammering +at times when I looked at her flushed cheeks and the fair hair, blown +about her face, and hiding the glances which she stole timidly at me. + +It was like a honeymoon departure, only with another man's wife; and +that made the sentiment more elevated and more chivalrous, for it set a +seal of honour on me which must remain unbroken till the time arrived. + +I wondered, as we strolled up Fifth Avenue together, how much she knew, +what she remembered, and what thoughts went coursing through her head. +That child-like faith of hers was marvellously sweet. It was an +innocent confidence, but it was devoid of weakness. I believed that +she was dimly aware that terrible things lay in the past and that she +trusted to her forgetfulness as a shield to shelter not only herself +but me, and would not voluntarily recall what she had forgotten. + +It was necessary to buy her an outfit of clothes, and this problem +worried me a good deal. I hardly knew the names of the things she +required. + +I believe now that I had absurd ideas as to the quantity and +consistency of women's garments. I was afraid that she would not know +what to buy; but, as the morning wore away, I realized that her mental +faculties were not dimmed in the least. + +She observed everything, clapped her hands joyously as a child at the +street sights and sounds, turned to wonder at the elevated and at the +high buildings. I ventured, therefore, upon the subject that was +perplexing me. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "you know that you will require an outfit of +clothes before we start for your home. Not too many things, you know," +I continued cautiously, "but just enough for a journey." + +"Yes, Paul," she answered. + +"How much money shall I give you, Jacqueline?" + +"Fifty dollars?" she inquired. + +I gave her a hundred, and took ridiculous delight in it. + +We entered a large department store, and I mustered up enough courage +to address the young woman who stood behind the counter that displayed +the largest assortment of women's garments. + +"I want a complete outfit for--for this lady," I stammered. "Enough +for,"--I hesitated again--"a two weeks' journey." + +The young woman smiled in a very pleasant way, and two others, who were +near enough to have overheard, turned and smiled also. + +"Bermuda or Niagara Falls?" asked the young woman. + +"I beg your pardon?" I inquired, conscious that my face was +insufferably hot. + +"If you are taking _madame_ to Bermuda she will naturally require +cooler clothing than if you are taking her to Niagara Falls," the young +woman explained, looking at me with benevolent patience. And seeing +that I was wholly disconcerted she added: + +"Perhaps _madame_ might prefer to make her own selection." + +As I stood in the centre of the store, apparently a stumbling block to +every shopper, Jacqueline flitted here and there, until a comfortable +assortment of parcels was accumulated upon the counter. + +"Where shall I send them, _madame_?" inquired the saleswoman. + +There was a suit-case to be bought, so I had them transferred to the +trunk and leather-goods department, where I bought a neat sole-leather +suit-case which, at Jacqueline's practical suggestion, was changed for +a lighter one of plaited straw. + +After that I abstained from misdirecting my companion's activities. + +And everybody addressed her as _madame_, and everybody smiled on us, +and sometimes I reflected miserably upon the wedding ring, and then +again smiled too and forgot, watching Jacqueline's eager face flushed +with delight as she looked at the pretty things in the store. + +I had meditated taking her into Tiffany's to buy her a trinket of some +kind. A ring seemed forbidden, and I was weighing the choice between a +bracelet and a watch, my desire to acquire a whole counter of trinkets +rapidly getting the better of my judgment, when something happened +which put the idea completely out of my head. + +It was while Jacqueline was examining the suitcases that my attention +was drawn to a tall, elderly man with a hard, drawn, and deeply lined +weather-beaten face, and wearing a massive fur overcoat, open in front, +who was standing in the division between the trunk department and that +adjoining it, immediately behind Jacqueline. He was looking at me with +an unmistakable glance of recognition. + +I knew that I had seen him several times before, but, though his +features were familiar, I had forgotten his name. + +In fact, I had seen him only a week before, but the events of the past +night had made a week seem like a week of years. I stared at him and +he stared back at me, and made an urgent sign to me. + +Keeping an eye on Jacqueline, and not losing sight of her at any time, +I followed the tall man. As I neared him my remembrance of him grew +stronger. I knew that powerful, slouching gait, that heavy tread. +When he turned round I had his name on my lips. + +It was Simon Leroux. + +"So you've got her!" he began in a hoarse, forcible whisper. "Where +did you pick her up? I was hurrying away from Tom's office when I +happened to see you two entering Mischenbusch's." + +I remembered then that the office in which I had drudged was only a +couple of blocks away. I made no answer, but waited for him to lead +again--and I was thinking hard. + +"There's the devil to pay!" he went on in his execrable accent. "Louis +came on posthaste, as you know, and he hasn't turned up this morning +yet. Ah, I always knew Tom was close, but I never dreamed _you_ knew +anything. When I used to see sitting near the door in his office +writing in those _sacre_ books I thought you were just a clerk. And +you were in the know all the time, you were! You know what happened +last night?" he continued, looking furtively around. + +"It was an unfortunate affair," I said guardedly. + +"Unfortunate!" he repeated, staring at me out of his bloodshot eyes. +"It was the devil, by gosh! Who was he?" + +His face was fiery red, and he cast so keen a look at me that I almost +thought he had discovered he was betraying himself. + +"It was lucky I was in New York when Louis wired us she had flown," he +continued--I omit the oaths which punctuated his phrases. "Lucky I had +my men with me, too. I didn't think I'd need them here, but I'd +promised them a trip to New York--and then comes Louis's wire. I put +them on the track. I guessed she's go to Daly's--old Duchaine was mad +about that crazy system of his, and had been writing to him. + +"He used to know Daly when they were young men together at Saratoga and +Montreal, and in Quebec, in the times when they had good horses and +high-play there. I tell you it was ticklish. There was millions of +dollars worth of property walking up Broadway, and they'd got her, with +a taxi waiting near by, when that devil's fool strolls up and draws a +crowd. If I'd been there I'd have----" + +A string of vile expletives followed his last remark. + +"They got on his track and followed them to the Merrimac," he +continued. "And they never came out. They waited all night till nine +this morning, and they never came out. My God, I thought her a good +girl--it's awful! Who was he? Say, how much do you know?" + +His face was dripping with sweat, and he shot an awful look at +Jacqueline as she bent over the suit-case. I could hardly keep my +hands off him, but Jacqueline's need was too great for me to give vent +to my passion. + +I remembered now that, after sending Jacqueline to the clerk's desk +alone, she had gone to a side entrance and I had joined her there and +left the hotel with her in that fashion. At any rate, Simon's words +showed me that his hired men were not acquainted with the rest of the +night's work. + +I gathered from what he had said that the possession of Jacqueline was +vitally important both to Leroux and to Tom Carson, for some reason +connected with the Northern Exploitation Company, and that they had +endeavoured to kidnap her and hold her till the man Louis arrived to +advise them. + +"How much do you know?" hissed Simon at me. + +"Leroux," I said, "I'm not going to tell you anything. You will +remember that I was employed by Mr. Carson." + +"Ain't I as good as Carson? What are you going to do with her?" + +"You'd better go back to the office and wait, unless you want to spoil +the game by letting her see you," I said. + +I was sure he was hiding from her intentionally, and I could see that +he believed I was working for Carson, for though he scowled fearfully +at me he seemed impressed by my words. + +"I don't know whether Tom's running straight or not," he said huskily; +"but let me tell you, young man, it'll pay you to keep in with me, and +if you've got any price, name it!" + +He shook his heavy fist over me--I believe the clerks thought he was +going to strike me, for they came hurrying toward us. But I saw +Jacqueline approaching, and, without another word, Leroux turned away. + +Jacqueline caught sight of his retreating figure and her eyes widened. +I thought I saw a shadow of fear in them. Then the memory was effaced +and she was smiling again. + +I instructed the store to call a messenger and have the suit-case taken +at once to the baggage-room in the Grand Central station. + +"Now, Jacqueline, I'm going to take you to lunch," I said. "And +afterward we will start for home." + +Outside the store I looked carefully around and espied Leroux almost +immediately lighting a cigar in the doorway of a shop. I hit upon a +rather daring plan to escape him. + +Carson's offices were in a large modern building, with many elevators +and entrances. I walked toward it with Jacqueline, being satisfied +that Leroux was following us; entered about twenty-five yards before +him, and ascended in the elevator, getting off, however, on the floor +above that on which the offices were. + +I was satisfied that Leroux would follow me a minute later, under the +impression that we had gone to the Northern Exploitation Company, and +so, after waiting a minute or two, I took Jacqueline down in another +elevator, and we escaped through the front entrance and jumped into a +taxicab. + +I was satisfied that I had thrown Leroux off the scent, but I took the +precaution to stop at a gunsmith's shop and purchase a pair of +automatic pistols and a hundred cartridges. The man would not sell +them to me there on account of the law, but he promised to put them in +a box and have them delivered at the station, and there, in due course, +I found them. + +But I was very uneasy until we found ourselves in the train. And then +at last everything was accomplished--our baggage upon the seats beside +us and our berths secured. At three precisely the train pulled out, +and Jacqueline nestled down beside me, and we looked at each other and +were happy. + +And then, at the very moment when the wheels began to revolve, Leroux +stepped down from a neighbouring train. As he passed our window he +espied us. + +He started and glared, and then he came racing back toward us, shaking +his fists and yelling vile expletives. He tried to swing himself +aboard in his fury despite the fact that the doors were all shut. A +porter pushed him back and the last I saw of him he was still pursuing +us, screaming with rage. + +I knew that he would follow on the nine o'clock train, reaching Quebec +about five the following afternoon. That gave us five hours' grace. +It was not much, but it was something to have Jacqueline safe with me +even until the morrow. + +I turned toward her, fearful that she had recognized the man and +realized the situation. But she was smiling happily at my side, and I +was confident then that, by virtue of that same mental inhibition, she +had neither seen nor heard the fellow. + +"Paul, it is _bon voyage_ for both of us," she said. + +"Yes, my dear." + +She looked at me thoughtfully a minute. + +"Paul, when we get home----" + +"Jacqueline?" + +"I do not know," she said, putting her palms to her head. "Perhaps I +shall remember then. But you--you must stay with me, Paul." + +Her lips quivered slightly. She turned her head away and looked out of +the window at the horrible maze of houses in the Bronx and the +disfiguring sign-boards. + +New York was slipping away. All my old life was slipping away like +this--and evil following us. I slipped one of the automatics out of my +suit-case into my pocket and swore that I would guard Jacqueline from +any shadow of harm. + +Each minute that I spent with her increased my passion for her. I had +ceased to have illusions on that score. One question recurred to my +mind incessantly. Could she be ignorant that she had a husband +somewhere? Would she tell me--or was this the chief of the memories +that she had laid aside? + +I opened one of the newspapers that I had bought at the station +bookstand, dreading to find in flaring letters the headlines announcing +the discovery of the body. + +I found the announcement--but in small type. The murder was ascribed +to a gang battle--the man could not be identified, and apparently both +police and public considered the affair merely one of those daily +slayings that occur in that city. + +Another newspaper devoted about the same amount of space to the +account, but it published a photograph of the dead man, taken in the +alley, where, it appeared, the reporter had viewed the body before it +had been removed. The photograph looked horribly lifelike. I cut it +out and placed it in my pocketbook. + +For the present I felt safe. I believed the affair would be forgotten +soon. And meanwhile here was Jacqueline. + +I turned toward her. She was asleep at my side, and her head drooped +on my shoulder. We sat thus all the afternoon, while the city +disappeared behind us, and we passed through Connecticut and approached +the Vermont hills. + +Then we had a gay little supper in the dining car. Afterward I walked +to the car entrance and flung the broken dog collar away--across the +fields. That was the last link that bound us to the past. + +Then the berths were lowered and made up; and fastening from my upper +place the curtain which fell before Jacqueline's, I knew that, for one +night more, at least, I held her in safe ward. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +M. LE CURE + +The very obvious decision at which I arrived after a night of +cogitation in my berth was that Jacqueline was to pass as my sister. I +explained my plan to her at breakfast. + +There had been the examination of baggage at the frontier and the +tiresome change to a rear car in the early morning, and most of us were +heavy-eyed, but she looked as fresh and charming as ever in her new +waist of black lace and the serge skirt which she had bought the day +before. It seemed impossible to realize that I was really seated +opposite her in the dining car, talking amid the punctuating chatter of +a party of red-cheeked French-Canadian school children who had come on +the train at Sherbrooke, bound for their home on the occasion of the +approaching Christmas holidays. + +"You see, Jacqueline," I explained, "it will look strange our +travelling together, unless some close relationship is supposed to +exist between us. I might subject you to embarrassment--so I shall +call you my sister, Miss Hewlett, and you will call me your brother +Paul." And I handed her my visiting card, because she had never heard +my surname before. + +"I shall be glad to think of you as my brother Paul," she answered, +looking at the card. She held it in her right hand, and it was not +until the middle of the meal that the left hand came into view. + +Then I discovered that she had taken off her wedding ring. + +I wondered what thought impelled her to do this, whether it was +coquetry or the same instinct which seemed to interpret the situation +at all times perfectly, though it never welled up into her +consciousness. + +We sped northward all that morning, stopping at many little wayside +stations, and as we rushed along beside the ice-bound St. Francis the +air ever grew colder, and the land, deep in snow, and the tall pines, +white with frost, looked like a picture on a Christmas card. + +At last the St. Lawrence appeared, covered with drifting floes; the +Isle of Orleans, with the Falls of Montmorency behind it; the ascending +heights which slope up to the Chateau Frontenac, the fort-crowned +citadel, the long parapet, bristling with guns. + +Then, after the ferry had transferred us from Levis we stood in Lower +Quebec. + +We had hardly gone on board the ferryboat when an incident occurred +that greatly disturbed me. A slightly built, well-dressed man, with a +small, upturned mustache and a face of notable pallor, passed and +repassed us several times, staring and smiling with cool effrontery at +both of us. + +He wore a lambskin cap and a fur overcoat, and I could not help +associating him with the dead man, or avoiding the belief that he had +travelled north with us, and that Leroux had been to see him off at the +station. + +I was a good deal troubled by this, but before I had decided to address +the fellow we landed, and a sleigh swept us up the hill toward the +chateau to the tune of jingling bells. It was a strange wintry +scene--the low sleighs, their drivers wrapped in furs and capped in +bearskin, the hooded nuns in the streets, the priests, soldiers, and +ancient houses. The air was keen and dry. + +"This is Quebec, Jacqueline," I said. + +I thought that she remembered unwillingly, but she said nothing. + +I dared ask her no questions. I fancied that each scene brought back +its own memories, but not the ideas associated with the chain of scenes. + +We secured adjacent rooms at the chateau, and leaving Jacqueline to +unpack her things, and under instructions not to leave her room and +promising to return as soon as possible, I started out at once to find +Maclay & Robitaille's. + +This proved a task of no great difficulty. It was a little shop where +leather goods were sold, situated on St. Joseph Street. A young man +with a dark, clean-shaven face, was behind the counter. He came +forward courteously as I approached. + +"I have come on an unusual mission," I began foolishly and stopped, +conscious of the inanity of this address. What a stupid thing to have +said! I must have aroused his suspicions immediately. + +He begged my pardon and called a man from another part of the shop. +And that gave me my chance over again, for I realized that he had not +understood my English. + +"Do you remember," I asked the newcomer, "selling a collar to a young +lady recently--no, some long time ago--a dog-collar, I mean?" + +The proprietor shrugged his shoulders. "I sell a good many dog-collars +during the year," he answered. + +I took the plate from my pocket and set it down on the counter. "The +collar was set with silver studs," I said. "This was the plate." Then +I remembered the name Leroux had used and flung it out at random. "I +think it was for a Mlle. Duchaine," I added. + +The shot went home. + +"Ah, _monsieur_, now I remember perfectly," answered the proprietor, +"both from the unusual nature of the collar and from the fact that +there was some difficulty in delivering it. There was no post-office +nearer the _seigniory_ than St. Boniface, where it lay unclaimed for a +long time. I think _madamoiselle_ had forgotten all about the order. +Or perhaps the dog had died!" + +"Where is this _seigniory_?" + +"The _seigniory_ of M. Charles Duchaine?" he answered, looking +curiously at me. "You are evidently a stranger, _monsieur_, or you +would have heard of it, especially now when people are saying that----" +He checked himself at this point. "It is the oldest of the +_seigniories_," he continued. "In fact, it has never passed out of the +hands of the original owners, because it is almost uninhabitable in +winter, except by Indians. I understand that M. Duchaine has built +himself a fine chateau there; but then he is a recluse _monsieur_, and +probably not ten men have ever visited it. But _mademoiselle_ is too +fine a woman to be imprisoned there long----" + +"How could one reach the chateau?" I interpolated. + +He looked at me inquiringly as though he wondered what my business +there could be. + +"In summer," he replied, "one might ascend the Riviere d'Or in a canoe +for half the distance, until one reached the mountains, and then----" +He shrugged his shoulders. "I do not know. Possibly one would inquire +of the first trapper who passed in autumn. In winter one would fly. +It is strange that so little is known of the _seigniory_, for they say +the Riviere d'Or----" + +"The Golden River?" + +"Has vast wealth in it, and formerly the Indians would bring gold-dust +in quills to the traders. But many have sought the source of this +supply in past times and failed or died, and so----" He shrugged his +shoulders again. + +"You see, M. Duchaine is a hermit," he continued. "Once, so my father +used to say, he was one of the gayest young men in Quebec. But he +became involved in the troubles of 1867--and then his wife died, and so +lie withdrew there with the little _mademoiselle_--what was her name?" + +He called his clerk. + +"Alphonse, what is the name of that pretty daughter of M. Charles +Duchaine, of Riviere d'Or?" he asked. + +"Annette," answered the man. "No, Nanette. No Janette. I am sure it +ends with 'ette' or 'ine,' anyway." + +"_Eh bien_, it makes no difference," said the proprietor, "because, +since she left the Convent of the Ursulines here in Quebec, where she +was educated, her father keeps her at the chateau, and you are not +likely to set eyes on M. Charles Duchaine's daughter." + +A sudden stoppage in his flow of words, an almost guilty look upon his +face, as a new figure entered the little shop, directed my attention +toward the stranger. + +He was an old man of medium size, very muscularly built, stout, and +with enormous shoulders. He wore a priest's _soutane_, but he did not +look like a priest--he looked like a man's head on a bull body. His +smooth face was tanned to the colour of an Indian's--his bright blue +eyes, almost concealed by their drooping, wrinkled lids, were piercing +in their scrutiny. + +He wore a bearskin hat and furs of surprising quality. It was not so +much his strange appearance that attracted my interest as the singular +look of authority upon the face, which was yet deeply lined about the +mouth, as though he could relax upon occasion and become the jolliest +of companions. + +And he spoke a pure French, interspersed with words of an uncouth +patois, which I ascribed to long residence in some remote parish. + +"_Bo'jour_, Pere Antoine," said the shopkeeper deferentially, fixing +his eyes rather timidly upon the old priest's face. + +"_Eh bien_, who is this with whom thou gossipest concerning the +daughter of M. Duchaine?" inquired Father Antoine, looking at me keenly. + +"Only a customer--a stranger, _monsieur_," answered the proprietor, +rubbing his hands together. "He wishes to see--a dog collar, was it +not?" he continued, turning nervously toward me. + +"You talk too much," said Pere Antoine roughly. "Now, _monsieur_," he +said, addressing me in fair English, "what is the nature of your +business that it can possibly concern either M. Duchaine or his +daughter? Perhaps I can inform you, since he is one of my +parishioners." + +"My conversation was not with you, _monsieur le cure_," I answered +shortly, and left the shop. I had ascertained what I needed to know, +and had no desire to enter into a discussion of my business with the +old man. + +I had not gone three paces from the door, however, when the priest, +coming up behind me, placed a huge hand upon my shoulder and swung me +around without the least apparent effort. + +"I do not know what your business is, _monsieur_," he said, "but if it +were an honest one you would state it to me. If you wish to see M. +Duchaine I am best qualified to assist you to do so, since I visit his +chateau twice each year to carry the consolations of religion to him +and his people. But if your business is not honest it will fail. End +it then and return to your own country." + +"I do not intend to discuss my business with you, _monsieur_," I +answered angrily. It is humiliating to be in the physical grip of +another man, even though he be a priest. + +He let me go and stood eyeing me with his keen gaze. I jumped on a +passing car, but looking back, I saw him striding along behind it. He +seemed to walk as quickly as the car went through the crowded street, +and with no effort. + +When I got off in the neighbourhood of the Place d'Armes it was nearly +dark; but though I could not see the old man, I was convinced that he +was still following me. + +I found Jacqueline in her room looking over her purchases, and took her +down to dinner. + +And here I had another disconcerting experience, for hardly were we +seated when the inquisitive stranger whom I had seen at the ferry came +into the dining-room, and after a careful survey which ended as his +eyes fell on us, he took his seat at an adjacent table. + +I could not but connect him with our presence there. + +Leroux was due to arrive at any moment. I realized that great issues +were at stake, that the man would never cease in his attempts to get +hold of Jacqueline. Only when I had returned her to her father's house +would I feel safe from him. + +The chateau was the worst place to have made my headquarters. If I had +realized the man's persistence, perhaps I would have sought less +conspicuous lodgings. Leroux's behaviour at the railroad station had +betrayed both an ungovernable temper when he was crossed, and to a +certain extent, fearlessness. + +Nevertheless I believed him to have also an elemental cunning which +would dissuade him from violent measures so long as we were in Quebec. +I resolved, therefore, not to avoid him, but to await his lead. + +After dinner I had some conversation with one of the hotel clerks. I +discovered that the Riviere d'Or flowed into the Gulf of St. Lawrence +from the north, in the neighbourhood of Anticosti. + +It was a small stream, and except for a postal station at its mouth +named St. Boniface, was little known, the only occupants of those parts +being trappers and Indians. + +When I told the clerk that I had business at St. Boniface I think he +concluded that I represented an amalgamation of fishing interests, for +he became exceedingly communicative. + +"You could hire dogs and a sleigh at St. Boniface for wherever your +final destination is," he said, "because the dog mail has been +suspended owing to the new government mail-boats, and the sleighs are +idle. I think Captain Dubois would take you on his boat as far as that +point, and I believe he makes his next trip in a couple of days." + +He gave me the captain's address, and I resolved to call on him early +the following day and make arrangements. + +I was just turning away when I saw the inquisitive stranger leave the +smoking-room. He crossed the hall and went out, not without bestowing +a long look on me. + +"Who is that man?" I asked. + +"Why, isn't he a friend of yours?" inquired the clerk. + +"Only by the way he stares at me," I said. + +"Well, he said he thought he knew you and asked me your name," the +clerk answered. "He didn't give me his, and I don't think he has been +in here before." + +I took Jacqueline for a stroll on the Terrace, and while we walked I +pondered over the problem. + +The night was too beautiful for my depression of mind to last. The +stars blazed brilliantly overhead; upon our left the faint outlines of +the Laurentians rose, in front of us the lights of Levis twinkled above +the frozen gulf. There was a flicker of Northern Lights in the sky. + +We paced the Terrace, arm in arm, from the statue of Champlain that +overlooks the Place d'Armes to the base of the mighty citadel, and +back, till the cold drove us in. + +Jacqueline was very quiet, and I wondered what she remembered. I +dreaded always awakening her memory lest, with that of her home, came +that other of the dead man. + +Our rooms were on the side of the Chateau facing the town, and as we +passed beneath the arch I saw two men standing no great distance away, +and watching us, it seemed to me. + +One wore the cassock of a priest, and I could have sworn that he was +Pere Antoine; the other resembled the inquisitive stranger. As we drew +near they moved behind a pillar. Thus, inexorably, the chase drew near. + +My suspicions received confirmation a few minutes later, for we had +hardly reached our rooms, and I was, in fact, standing at the door of +Jacqueline's, bidding her good night, when a bellboy came along the +passage and announced that the gentleman whom I was expecting was +coming up the stairs. + +I said good-night to Jacqueline and went into my room and waited. I +had thought it would be the stranger, but it was the priest. + +I invited him to enter, and he came in and stood with his fur cap on +his head, looking direfully at me. + +"Well, _monsieur_, what is the purpose of this visit?" I asked. + +"To tell you," he thundered, "that you must give up the unhappy woman +who has accompanied you here." + +"That is precisely what I intend to do," I answered. + +"To me," he said. "Her husband----" + +I felt my brain whirling. I knew now that I had always cherished a +hope, despite the ring--what a fool I had been! + +"I married them," continued Pere Antoine. + +"Where is he?" I demanded desperately. + +He appeared disconcerted. I gathered from his stare that he had +supposed I knew. + +"This is a Catholic country," he went on, more quietly. "There is no +divorce; there can be none. Marriage is a sacrament. Sinning as she +is----" + +I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I will not hear any more," I said. +"Go!" I pointed toward the door. + +"I am going to take her away with me," he said, and crossing the +threshold into the corridor, placed one hand on the door of +Jacqueline's room. + +I got there first. I thrust him violently aside--it was like pushing a +monument; turned the key, which happily was still outside, and put it +in my pocket. + +"I am ready to deal with her husband," I said. "I am not ready to deal +with you. Leave at once, or I will have you arrested, priest or no +priest." + +He raised his arm threateningly. "In God's name--" he began. + +"In God's name you shall not interfere with me," I cried. "Tell that +to your confederate, Simon Leroux. A pretty priest you are!" I raged. +"How do I know she has a husband? How do I know you are not in league +with her persecutors? How do I know you are a priest at all?" + +He seemed amazed at the violence of my manner. + +"This is the first time my priesthood has been denied," he said +quietly. "Well, I have offered you your chance. I cannot use +violence. If you refuse, you will bring your own punishment upon your +head, and hers on that of the unhappy woman whom you have led into sin." + +"Go!" I shouted, pointing down the passage. + +He turned and went, his _soutane_ sweeping against the door of +Jacqueline's room as he went by. At the entrance to the elevator he +turned again and looked back steadily at me. Then the door clanged and +the elevator went down. + +I unlocked the door of Jacqueline's room. I saw her standing at the +foot of the bed. She was supporting herself by her hands on the brass +framework. Her face was white. As I entered she looked up piteously +at me. + +"Who--was--that?" she asked in a frightened whisper. + +"An impudent fellow--that is all, Jacqueline." + +"I thought I knew his voice," she answered slowly. "It made +me--almost--remember. And I do not want to remember, Paul." + +She put her arms about my neck and cried. I tried to comfort her, but +it was a long time before I succeeded. + +I locked her door on the outside, and that night I slept with the key +beneath my pillow. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFF + +The next morning, after again cautioning Jacqueline not to leave her +room until I returned, I went to the house of Captain Dubois on Paul +Street, in the Lower Town. + +I was admitted by a pleasant-looking woman who told me that the captain +would not be home until three in the afternoon, so I returned to the +chateau, took Jacqueline for a sleigh ride round the fortifications, +and delighted her, and myself also, by the purchase of two fur coats, +heavy enough to exclude the biting cold which I anticipated we should +experience during our journey. + +In the afternoon I went back to Paul Street and found M. Dubois at +home. He was a man of agreeable appearance, a typical Frenchman of +about forty-five, with a full face sparsely covered with a black beard +that was beginning to turn grey at the sides, and with an air of +sagacious understanding, in which I detected both sympathy and a +lurking humour. + +When I explained that I wanted to secure two passages to St. Boniface, +his brows contracted. + +"So you, too, are going to the Chateau Duchaine!" he exclaimed. "Is +there not room for two more on the boat of Captain Duhamel?" + +I disclaimed all knowledge of Duhamel, but he looked entirely +unconvinced. + +"It is a pity, _monsieur_, that you are not acquainted with Captain +Duhamel," he said dryly, "because I cannot take you to St. Boniface. +But undoubtedly Captain Duhamel will assist you and your friend on your +way to the Chateau Duchaine." + +"Why do you suppose that I am going to the Chateau Duchaine?" I +inquired angrily. + +He flared up, too. "_Diable_!" he burst out, "do you suppose all +Quebec does not know what is in the wind? But since you are so +ignorant, _monsieur_, I will enlighten you. We will assume, to begin +then, that you are not going to the chateau, but only to St. Boniface, +perhaps to engage in fishing for your support. Eh, _monsieur_?" + +Here he looked mockingly at my fur coat, which hardly bore out this +presumption of my indigence. + +"_Eh bien_, to continue. Let us suppose that the affairs of M. Charles +Duchaine have interested a gentleman of business and politics whom we +will call M. Leroux--just for the sake of giving him a name, you +understand," he resumed, looking at me maliciously. "And that this M. +Leroux imagines that there is more than spruce timber to be found on +the seigniory. _Bien_, but consider further that this M. Leroux is a +mole, as we call our politicians here. It would not suit him to appear +openly in such an enterprise? He would always work through his agents +in everything would he not being a mole? + +"Let us say then that he arranges with a Captain Duhamel to convey his +party to St. Boniface to which point he will go secretly by another +route and that he will join them there and--in short, _monsieur_, take +yourself and your friend to the devil, for I won't give you passage." + +His face was purple, and I assumed that he bore no love for Simon, +whose name seemed to be of considerable importance in Quebec. I was +delighted at the turn affairs were taking. + +"You have not a very kindly feeling for this mythical person whom we +have agreed to call Leroux," I said. + +Captain Dubois jumped out of his chair and raised his arms passionately +above him. + +"No, nor for any of his friends," he answered. "Go back to him--for I +know he sent you to me--and tell him he cannot hire Alfred Dubois for +all the money in Canada." + +"I am glad to hear you say that," I answered, "because Leroux is no +friend of mine. Now listen to me, Captain Dubois. It is true that I +am going to the chateau, if I can get there, but I did not know that +Leroux had made his arrangements already. In brief, he is in pursuit +of me and I have urgent reasons for avoiding him. My companion is a +lady----" + +"Eh?" he exclaimed, looking stupidly at me. + +"And I am anxious to take her to the chateau, where we shall be safe +from the man----" + +"A lady!" exclaimed the captain. "A young one? Why didn't you tell me +so at first, _monsieur_? I'll take you. I will do anything for an +enemy of Leroux. He put my brother in jail on a false charge because +he wouldn't bow to him--my brother died there, _monsieur_--that was his +wife who opened the door to you. And the children, who might have +starved, if I had not been able to take care of them! And he has tried +to rob me of my position, only it is a Dominion one--the rascal!" + +The captain was becoming incoherent. He drew his sleeve across his +eyes. + +"But a lady!" he continued, with forced gaiety a moment later, "I do +not know your business, _monsieur_, but I can guess, perhaps----" + +"But you must not misunderstand me," I interposed. "She is not----" + +"It's all right!" said the captain, slapping me upon the back. "No +explanations! Not a word, I assure you. I am the most discreet of +men. Madeleine!" + +This last word was a deep-chested bellow, and in response a little girl +came running in, staggering under the weight of the captain's overcoat +of raccoon fur. + +"That is my overcoat voice," he explained, stroking the child's head. +"My niece, _monsieur_. The others are boys. I wish they were all +girls, but God knows best. And, you see, a man can save much trouble, +for by the tone in which I call Madeleine knows whether it is my +overcoat or my pipe or slippers that I want, or whether I am growing +hungry." + +I thought that the captain's hunger voice must shake the rafters of the +old building. + +"And now, _monsieur_," he continued seriously, when we had left the +house, "I am going to take you down to the pier and show you my boat. +And I will tell you as much as I know concerning the plans of that +scoundrel. In brief, it is known that a party of his friends has been +quartered for some time at the chateau; they come and go, in fact, and +now he is either taking more, or the same ones back again, and God +knows why he takes them to so desolate a region, unless, as the rumour +is, he has discovered coal-fields upon the seigniory and holds M. +Duchaine in his power. Well, _monsieur_, a party sails with Captain +Duhamel on tonight's tide, which will carry me down the gulf also. + +"You see, _monsieur_," he continued, "it is impossible to clear the ice +unless the tide bears us down; but once the Isle of Orleans is past we +shall be in more open water and independent of the current. Captain +Duhamel's boat is berthed at the same pier as mine upon the opposite +side, for they both belong to the Saint-Laurent Company, which leases +them in winter. + +"We start together, then, but I shall expect to gain several hours +during the four days' journey, for I know the _Claire_ well, and she +cannot keep pace with my _Sainte-Vierge_. In fact it was only +yesterday that the government arranged for me to take over the +_Sainte-Vierge_ in place of the _Claire_, which I have commanded all +the winter, for it is essential that the mails reach St. Boniface and +the maritime villages as quickly as possible. So you must bring your +lady aboard the _Sainte-Vierge_ by nine to-night. + +"I shall telegraph to my friend Danton at St. Boniface to have a sleigh +and dogs at your disposal when you arrive, and a tent, food, and +sleeping bags," continued Captain Dubois, "for it must be a hundred and +fifty miles from St. Boniface to the Chateau Duchaine. It is not a +journey that a woman should take in winter," he added with a +sympathetic glance at me, "but doubtless your lady knows the way and +the journey well." + +The question seemed extraordinarily sagacious; it threw me into +confusion. + +"You see, M. Danton carried the mails by dog-sleigh before the +steamship winter mail service was inaugurated," he went on, "and now he +will be glad of an opportunity to rent his animals. So I shall wire +him tonight to hold them for you alone, and shall describe you to him. +And thus we will check M. Leroux's designs, which have doubtless +included this point. And so, with half a day's start, you will have +nothing to fear from him--only remember that he has no scruples. +Still, I do not think he will catch you and Mlle. Jacqueline before you +reach Chateau Duchaine," he ended, chuckling at his sagacity. + +"Ah, well, _monsieur_, who else could your lady be?" he asked, smiling +at my surprise. "I knew well that some day she must leave those wilds. +Besides, did I not convey her here from St. Boniface on my return, less +than a week ago, when she pleaded for secrecy? I suspected something +agitated her then. So it was to find a husband that she departed thus? +When she is home again, kneeling at her old father's feet, pleading for +forgiveness, he will forgive--have no fear, _mon ami_." + +So Jacqueline had left her home not more than a week before! And the +captain had no suspicion that she was married then! Yet Pere Antoine +claimed to have performed the ceremony. + +To whom? And where was the man who should have stood in my place and +shielded her against Leroux? + +I made Dubois understand, not without difficulty, that we were still +unmarried. His face fell when he realized that I was in earnest, but +after a little he made the best of the situation, though it was evident +that some of the glamour was scratched from the romance in his opinion. + +By now we had arrived at the wharf. It was a short pier at the foot of +one of the numerous narrow streets that run down from the base of the +mighty cliff which ascends to the ramparts and Park Frontenac. On +either side, wedged in among the floes, lay a small ship of not many +tons' burden--the _Claire_ and the _Sainte-Vierge_ respectively. The +latter vessel lay upon our right as we approached the end of the wharf. + +"Hallo! Hallo, Pierre!" shouted Dubois in what must have resembled his +dinner voice, and a seaman with a short black beard came running up the +deck and stopped at the gangway. + +"It is all right," said Dubois, after a few moments' conversation. +"Pierre understands all that is necessary, and he will tell the men. +And now I will show you the ship." + +There was a small cabin for Jacqueline and another for myself +adjoining. This accommodation had been built for the convenience of +the passengers whom the Saint-Laurent Company, though its boats were +built for freight, occasionally accepted during its summer runs. I was +very well satisfied and inquired the terms. + +"If it were not for the children there should be no terms!" exclaimed +the captain. "But it is hard, _monsieur_, with prices rising and the +hungry mouths always open, like little birds." + +He was overjoyed at the sight of the fifty dollars which I tendered +him. However, my generosity was not wholly disingenuous. I felt that +it would be wise to make one stanch friend in that unfriendly city; and +money does bind, though friendship exist already. + +"By the way," I said, "do you know a priest named Pere Antoine?" + +"An old man? A strong old man? Why, assuredly, _monsieur_," answered +the captain. "Everybody knows him. He has the parish of the Riviere +d'Or district, and the largest in Quebec. As far as Labrador it is +said to extend, and he covers it all twice each year, in his canoe or +upon snowshoes. A saint, _monsieur_, as not all of our priests are, +alas! You will do well to make his acquaintance." + +He placed one brawny hand upon my shoulder and swung me around. + +"Now at last I understand!" he bellowed. "So it is Pere Antoine who is +to make you and mademoiselle husband and wife! And you thought to +conceal it from me, _monsieur_!" he continued reproachfully. + +His good-humour being completely restored by this prospective +consummation of the romance, the captain parted from me on the wharf on +his way to the telegraph-office, repeating his instructions to the +effect that we were to be aboard the boat by nine, as he would not be +able to remain later than that hour on account of the tide. + +It had grown dark long before and, looking at my watch, I was surprised +to see that it was already past six o'clock. I had no time to lose in +returning to the chateau. + +But though I could see it outlined upon the cliff, I soon found myself +lost among the maze of narrow streets in which I was wandering. I +asked the direction of one or two wayfarers, but these were all men of +the labouring class, and their instructions, given in the provincial +patois, were quite unintelligible to me. + +A man was coming up the street behind me, and I turned to question him, +but as I decreased my pace, he diminished his also, and when I +quickened mine, he went faster as well. I began to have an uneasy +sense that he might be following me, and accordingly hastened onward +until I came to a road which seemed to lead up the hill toward the +ramparts. + +The chateau now stood some distance upon my left, but once I had +reached the summit of the cliff it would only be a short walk away. + +The road, however, led me into a blind alley, the farther extremity +being the base of the cliff; but another street emerged from it at a +right angle, and I plunged into this, believing that any of the byways +would eventually take me to the top of the acclivity. + +As I entered this street I heard the footsteps behind me quicken and, +looking around, perceived that the man was close upon me. He stopped +at the moment I did and disappeared in a small court. + +There was nothing remarkable in this, only to my straining eyes he +seemed to bear a resemblance to the man with the patch whom I had +encountered at the corner of Sixth Avenue on that night when I met +Jacqueline. + +I knew from Leroux's statement to me that the man had been a member of +his gang. I was quite able to take care of myself under normal +circumstances. + +But now--I was afraid. The mighty cliff before me, the silence of the +deserted alleys in which I wandered helplessly, the thought of +Jacqueline alone, waiting anxiously for my return, almost unmanned me. +I felt like a hunted man, and my safety, upon which her own depended, +attained an exaggerated importance in my mind. + +So I almost ran forward into the byway which seemed to lead toward the +summit, and as I did so I heard the footsteps close behind me again. + +I had entered one of the narrowest streets I had ever seen, and the +most curious. It was just wide enough to admit the passage of a sleigh +perhaps; the crumbling and dilapidated old houses, which seemed +deserted, were connected overhead by a succession of wooden bridges, +and those on my left were built into the solid rock, which rose sheer +overhead. + +In front of me the alley seemed to widen. I almost ran; but when I +reached it I found that it was merely a bend in the passage, and the +alley ran on straight as before. + +On my left hand was a tiny unfenced courtyard, not more than six yards +in area, and I turned into this quickly and waited. I was confident +that the bend in the street had hidden me from my pursuer and, as I +anticipated, he came on at a swifter rate. + +He was abreast of me when I put out my hand and grasped him by the +coat, while with the other I felt in my pocket for my automatic pistol. + +It was not there. I had left it in the pocket of the overcoat which I +had changed at the furrier's shop and had sent to the chateau. And I +was looking into the villainous face of the ruffian who had knocked me +down on Sixth Avenue. + +"What are you following me for?" I cried furiously. + +He wrenched himself out of my grasp and pulled a long knife from his +pocket. I caught him by the wrist, and we wrestled to and fro upon the +snow. He pummelled me about the face with his free hand, but though I +was no match for him in strength, he could not get the knife from me. +The keen steel slashed my fingers, but the thought of Jacqueline helped +me. + +I got his hand open, snatched the knife, and flung it far away among +the stunted shrubs that clung to the cliffside. And we stood watching +each other, panting. + +He did not try to attack me again, but stood just out of my reach, +grinning diabolically at me. His gaze shifted over my shoulder. +Instinctively I swung around as the dry snow crackled behind me. + +I was a second too late, for I saw nothing but the looming figure of a +second ruffian and his upraised arm; then painless darkness seemed to +enfold me, and I was conscious of plunging down into a fathomless abyss. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CAPTAIN DUBOIS + +Clang! Clang! + +It sounded as though some titanic blacksmith were pounding on a mighty +anvil to a devil's chorus of laughter. And I was bound to the steel, +and each blow awakened hideous echoes which went resounding through my +brain forever. + +Clang! Clang! + +The blows were rhythmical, and there was a perceptible interval between +each one and the next; they were drawn out and intolerably slow, and +seemed to have lasted through uncountable eons. + +I strove to free myself. I knew that it was a dream from which I must +awaken, for the fate of the whole world depended on my awakening from +the bonds of sleep. + +It would be so easy to sink down into a deeper slumber, where even the +clanging of the anvil beneath those hammer strokes would not longer be +heard; but against this was the imperative need to save--not the world +now, but---- + +The name was as sweet as honey upon my lips. It was something worth +living for. It was--Jacqueline! + +The remembrance freed me. Dimly consciousness began to return. I knew +the hammering was my own heart, forcing the blood heavily through the +arteries of the brain. + +That name--Annette--Jeannette--Jacqueline! + +I had gone back to my rooms and saw a body upon the floor. Jacqueline +had killed somebody, and I must save her! + +All through the mist-wrapped borderland of life I heard her voice +crying to me, her need of me dragging me back to consciousness. I +struggled up out of the pit, and I saw light. + +Suddenly I realized that my eyes were wide open and that I was staring +at the moon over the housetops. With consciousness came pain. My head +throbbed almost unbearably, and I was stiff with cold. I raised myself +weakly, and then I became aware that somebody was bending over me. + +It was a roughly dressed, rough-looking denizen of the low quarter into +which I had strayed. His arms were beneath my neck, raising my head, +and he was looking into my face with an expression of great concern +upon his own good-natured one. + +"I thought you were dead!" I could make out amid the stream of his +dialect, but the remainder of his speech was beyond my understanding. + +"Help me!" I muttered, reaching for his hand. + +He understood the gesture, for he assisted me to my feet, and, after I +had leaned weakly against the wall of a house for a minute or two, I +found that I could stand unassisted. + +I looked round in bewilderment. + +"Where am I?" I asked, still bound by that first memory of New York. + +"In Sous-le-Cap, _m'sieur_," answered the man. + +I felt in my pocket for my watch and drew it out. It was strange that +the men had not robbed me, but I suppose they had become terrified at +their work and had run off. However, I did not think of that at the +time. + +I think my action was an automatic one, the natural refuge for a +perplexed man. But the sight of the time brought back my memory, and +the events of the day rushed back into my mind with a force that seemed +to send an accession of new strength through my limbs. + +It was a few minutes past eight. And the boat sailed at nine. I must +have lain stunned in Sous-le-Cap Street for an hour and a half, at +least, and only the supreme necessity of awakening, realized through +unconsciousness, had saved me from dying under the snows. + +I found that I could walk, and having explained to the man that I +wished to go to the chateau, was taken by him to the top of a winding +road near at hand, from which I could see my destination at no great +distance from me. + +Dismissing my friendly guide, and sending him back rejoicing with +liberal largesse, I hurried as quickly as I could make my way along the +ramparts, past the frowning, ancient cannon skirting the park, until I +burst into the chateau at half past the hour. + +I must have presented a dreadful spectacle, for my hair and collar were +matted with blood, and I saw the guests stare and shrink from me. The +clerk came toward me and stopped me at the entrance to the elevator. + +"Where as Miss Hewlett?" I gasped. + +"Didn't you meet her? She left here nearly an hour ago." + +I caught him by the arm, and I think he imagined that I was going to +seize him by the throat also, for he backed away from me, and I saw a +look of fear come into his eyes. The elevator attendant came running +between us. + +"Your friend----" he began. + +"My _friend_?" I cried. + +"He came for her and said that you had met with an accident," the clerk +continued. "She went with him at once. He took her away in a sleigh. +I was sure that you had missed her when you came in." + +But already I was half-way across the hall and running for the door. I +raced wildly across the court and toward the terrace. + +The meaning of the scheme was clear. Jacqueline was on Captain +Duhamel's boat, which sailed at nine. And only twenty minutes remained +to me. If I had not had the good luck to meet Dubois! + +I must have noticed a clock somewhere during the minute that I was in +the chateau, and though I had not been conscious of it, the after-image +loomed before my eyes. As I ran now I could see a huge phantom clock, +the dial marked with enormous Roman letters, and the hands moving with +dreadful swiftness toward the hour of nine. + +I had underestimated Leroux's shrewdness. He must have telegraphed +instructions from New York before my train was out of the county, +secured the boat, laid his plans during his journey northward, and had +me struck down while Jacqueline was stolen from my care. And he had +spared no details, even to enlisting the aid of Pere Antoine. + +If he had known that my destination was the same as his, he might have +waited. But it was not the character of the man to wait, any more than +it was to participate personally in his schemes. He worked through +others, sitting back and pulling the strings, and he struck, each blow +on time. + +I ought to have known that. I should have read him better. I had +always dawdled. I trusted to the future, instead of acting. What +chance had I against a mind like his? + +I was a novice at chess, pitting myself against a master at the game. + +I must have been running aimlessly up and down the terrace, blindly +searching for a road down to the lower town, for a man seized me by the +sleeve, and I looked into the face of the hotel clerk again. He seemed +to realize that more was the matter even than my appearance indicated, +for he asked no questions, but apparently divined my movements. + +"This way!" he said, and hurried me to a sort of subway entrance, and +down a flight of steps. Before me I saw the turnstile which led to a +cable railway. He paid my fare and thrust me into a car. A boy came +to close the latticed door. + +"Wait!" I gasped. "Who was it that called?" + +"The man with the mustache who asked for you--about whom you inquired." + +I turned away. I had thought it was Leroux. Of course it had not been +he. + +The car glided down the cliff, and stopped a few seconds later, I +emerged through another turnstile and found myself in the lower town +again at the foot of the precipice, above which rose the chateau with +its imposing facade, the ramparts, and the towering citadel. + +The hands of the phantom clock pointed to ten minutes of nine. But I +knew the gulf lay before me at the end of the short, narrow street that +led down to it, up which I had passed two hours before upon that +journey which so nearly ended in the snow-drifts of Souse-le-Cap. + +I reached the wharf and raced along the planks. I was in time, +although the engines were throbbing in the _Sainte-Vierge_. But it was +not she, but the dark _Claire_ I sought at that moment, and I dashed +toward her. + +A man barred my approach. He caught me in his strong arms and held me +fast. I dash my fists against his face, but he would not let me go. + +"Are you mad, _monsieur_?" he burst out as I continued to struggle. +And then I recognized my captor as Captain Dubois. + +"Jacqueline is on the _Claire_!" I cried, trying to make him +understand. "They took her there. They----" + +"It is all right," answered Dubois, holding me with one hand, while +with the other he wiped a blood drop from his lip where I had struck +him. "It is all right. I have her." + +I stared wildly at him. "She is on the _Claire_!" I cried again. + +"No, _mon ami_. She is aboard the _Sainte-Vierge_," replied Dubois, +chuckling, "and if you wish to accompany _mademoiselle_ you must come +with me at once, for we are getting up steam." + +I could not believe him. I thought that Leroux had tampered with the +honest man. It was not until he had taken me, half forcibly, aboard, +and opened the cabin door, that I saw her. She was seated upon her +berth, and she rose and came toward me with a glad little cry. + +"Jacqueline!" I cried, and clasped her in my arms for joy, and quite +forgot. + +A dancing shadow fell upon the wall behind the oil-lamp. The honest +captain was rubbing his hands in the doorway and chuckling with delight. + +"It is all right, it is all right; excuse me, _monsieur_," he said, and +closed the door on us. But I called him, and he returned, not very +reluctantly. + +"What has happened, captain?" I asked. "You are not going to leave me +in suspense?" + +"But what has happened to you, _monsieur_?" he asked, with great +concern, as he saw the blood on my coat-collar, "You have met with an +accident?" + +Jacqueline cried out and ran for water, and made me sit down, and began +bathing my head. I contrived to whisper something of what had occurred +during the moments when Jacqueline flitted to and fro. Dubois swore +roundly. + +"It is my fault, _monsieur_," he said. "I should have known. I should +have accompanied you home. It would be a tough customer who would +venture to meddle with Alfred Dubois! But I was anxious to get to the +telegraph office to inform M. Danton of your coming. And I suspected +something, too, for I knew that Leroux had something more in his mind +than simply to convey some of his men to St. Boniface at such expense. + +"So as soon as I had finished telegraphing I hurried home and bade +adieu to Marie and the little Madeline and the two nephews, and then I +came back to the boat--and that part I shall tell you later, for +_mademoiselle_ knows nothing of the plot against her, and has been +greatly distressed for you. So it shall be understood that you fell +down and hurt your head on the ice--eh?" + +I agreed to this. "But what did she think?" I asked, as Jacqueline +went back for some more water. + +"That you had sent her to the _Sainte-Vierge_," he answered, "and that +you were to follow her here--as you did. Even now the nephews are +searching the lower town for you." + +"But if I had not come before nine?" + +"I should have waited all night, _monsieur_, even though I had lost my +post for it," he said explosively, and I reached out and gripped his +hand. + +"You may not have seen the baggage here," continued the captain slyly. + +I glanced round me. Upon the floor stood the two suit-cases, which +should have been in our rooms in the chateau, and Jacqueline was busily +tearing up some filmy material in hers for bandages. + +I looked at Dubois in astonishment. + +"Ah, _monsieur_, I sent for those," he said, "and paid your bill also. +When I fight Simon Leroux I do not do things by halves. You see, +_monsieur_, wise though he is, there are other minds equal to his own, +and since he killed my brother, I----" + +Here he nearly broke down, and I looked discreetly away. + +"One question of curiosity, _monsieur_, if it is permissible," he said +a little later. "Why does Leroux wish so much to stop your marriage +with _mademoiselle_ that he is ready to stoop to assassination and +kidnapping?" + +My heart felt very warm toward the good man. I knew how that loose end +in the romance that he had built up troubled him. And, though I hardly +knew myself, I must give him some satisfactory solution of his problem. + +"Because he is himself in love with her," I said. + +The captain clenched his fists. "God forbid!" he muttered. "They say +his wife died of a broken heart. Ah, _monsieur_, swear to me that this +shall never come about, that mademoiselle become his wife. Swear it to +me, _mon ami_!" + +I swore it, and we shook hands again. I was sorry for my deception +then, and afterward I had occasion to remember it. + +Five minutes later we had cast off, and the _Sainte-Vierge_ steamed +slowly through the drift ice that packed the gulf. There were no +lights upon the _Claire_, and I surmised that the conspirators were +keeping quietly hidden in expectation of Jacqueline's arrival, though +how Dubois had outwitted them I could not at the time surmise. + +However, there was little doubt that once the trick was discovered the +_Claire_ would follow on our heels. + +Standing on deck, I watched the lights of Levis and Quebec draw +together as we steamed eastward. I cast a last look at the chateau and +the ramparts. I felt it would be many days before I set eyes on them +again. + +Then I sought my cabin and fell asleep, dreaming of Jacqueline. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DREAMS OF THE NIGHT + +Jacqueline and I were together, the only human beings within a score of +miles. We were seated side by side in the sleigh at which the dogs +pulled steadily. + +We glided with slow, easy monotony along the snow-covered trail, +through the sparse forest that fringed the ice-bound waters of the +Riviere d'Or. Seen through our tinted snow-glasses, the landscape was +a vast field of palest blue, dotted with scattered clusters of spruce +and pine trees. + +The mystery of Jacqueline's rescue by Captain Dubois had been a simple +one. The young man with the mustache was a certain Philippe Lacroix, +well known to Dubois, a member of a good family, but of dissolute +habits--just such a one as Leroux found it convenient to attach to his +political fortunes by timely financial aid. + +Having acquired power over him, Leroux was in this way enabled to +obtain political influence through his family connections. + +There was no doubt that he had been in New York with Leroux, and that +they had hatched the plot to kidnap Jacqueline after I had been struck +down. + +Fortunately for us, Lacroix, ignorant, as was Leroux himself, that the +two ships had exchanged roles and duties, took Jacqueline aboard the +_Sainte-Vierge_, where Captain Dubois, who was waiting in anticipation +of just such a scheme, seized him and marched him at pistol point to +the house on Paul Street, in which Lacroix was kept a prisoner by +friends of Dubois until the _Sainte-Vierge_ had sailed. + +The gulf was fairly free from ice, and our journey to St. Boniface, +where we arrived on the fifth morning after our departure from Quebec, +had been an uneventful one. We had not seen the smoke of the _Claire_ +behind us at any period during the voyage, and Dubois had not spared +his coal to show the other vessel his heels. + +He left us at St. Boniface with a final caution against Leroux, and +proceeded along the shore with his bags of mail; but first he had a +satisfactory conversation with M. Danton concerning us. + +I had given Dubois to understand that Jacqueline had been ill. I was +apprehensive that he might question her and so discover her mental +state; but the good man readily understood that an elopement causes +much mental anguish in the case of the feminine party--at least this +supposition was in line with the romantic requirements of the case, +according to all the books that the captain had ever read; and he +leaped at the hypothesis. + +He not only forbore to question Jacqueline, but he explained the +situation to Danton, a friendly but taciturn old man who kept the store +and post-office at St. Boniface. + +Danton, who of course knew Jacqueline, took the opportunity of assuring +me that her father, though a recluse and a misanthrope who had not left +his seigniory for forty years, was said to be a man of heart, and would +undoubtedly forgive us. He was clearly under the impression that we +were married, and, since Dubois had not enlightened him on this point, +I did not do so. + +In fact, his ignorance again aroused in me elusive hopes--for if a +marriage _had_ occurred would he not have known, of it? At any rate, I +should know soon; and with this reflection I had to console myself. + +Since Jacqueline was supposed to know the route, I could ask no direct +questions; but I gathered that the _chateau_ lay about a hundred and +twenty miles north-westward. For the first part of the journey we were +to travel along the right bank of the Riviere d'Or; at the point where +the mountains began there were some trappers' huts, and there doubtless +I could gain further information. + +M. Danton had his sleigh and eight fine-looking dogs ready for us. I +purchased these outright in order to carry no hostages. We took with +us several days' supply of food, a little tent, sleeping-bags, and +frozen fish for the animals. + +I must record that a small wharf was in course of construction, and +that the contractor's sign read: "Northern Exploitation Company." M. +Danton informed me that this was a lumber company which had already +begun operations, and that the establishment of its camps accounted for +the absence of inhabitants. + +In fact, our arrival was almost unobserved, and two hours afterward we +had set forth upon our journey. + +I wondered what Jacqueline remembered. Vague and unquiet thoughts +seemed to float up into her mind, and she sat by my side silent and +rather sad. I think she was afraid of the knowledge that was to come +to her. + +God knows I was, and for this reason was resolved to ask no questions +unless they should become necessary. Whether or not she even knew the +route I had no means of discovering. + +The sun shone brightly; the air, intensely cold, chilled our faces, but +could not penetrate our furs. Sometimes we rubbed each other's cheeks +with snow when they grew threateningly white, laughing to see the blood +rush to the under surface of the skin, and jested about our journey to +drive away our fears. + +And it was wonderful. It was as though we were the first man and woman +in the world, wandering in our snow-garden, and still lost in amazement +at each other. The prospect of meeting others of our kind began to be +a fantastic horror to me. + +We were happy with each other. If we could travel forever thus! I +watched her beautiful, serene face; the brown hair, brought low over +the ears to guard them against the cold; the big grey eyes that were +turned upon mine sometimes in puzzled wonder, but very real content. + +I held her small gloved hand inside the big sable muff, and we would +sit thus for hours in silence while the dogs picked their way along the +trail. When I looked back I could see the tiny pad-prints stretching +away toward the far horizon, an undeviating black blur upon the +whiteness of the snow. + +It was a strange situation. It might easily have become an impossible +one. But it was a sacred comradeship, refined above the love of friend +for friend, or lover for lover, by her faith, her helplessness, and +need. + +We tried so hard to be merry. When we had fed the dogs at noon and +eaten our meal we would strap on the _raquettes_, the snow-shoes with +which Danton had furnished us, and travel over the crusted drifts +beside the stream. We ran out on the surface of the river and made +snowballs, and pelted each other, laughing like school children. + +But after the journey had begun once more we would sit quietly beside +each other, and for long we would hardly utter a word. + +I think that she liked best to sit beside me in the narrow sleigh and +lean against my shoulder, her physical weariness the reflection of her +spiritual unrest. She did not want to think, and she wanted me to +shield her. + +But even in this solitude fear drove me on, for I knew that a +relentless enemy followed hard after us, camping where we had camped +and reading the miles between us by the smouldering ashes of our old +fires. + +At nightfall I would pitch the tent for Jacqueline and place her +sleeping-bag within, and while she slept I would lie by the huge fire +near the dogs, and we kept watch over her together. + +So passed three days and nights. + +The fourth short day drew toward its end a little after four o'clock. +I remember that we camped late, for the sun had already dipped to the +level horizon and was casting black, mile-long shadows across the snow. + +A whistling wind came up. The dogs had been showing signs of distress +that afternoon, pulling us more and more reluctantly, and walking with +drooping ears and muzzles depressed. + +I hammered in the pegs and built a fire with dry boughs, collecting a +quantity of wood sufficient to last until morning. Then Jacqueline +made tea, and we ate our supper and crept into our sleeping-bags and +lay down. + +"Three more days, dear, at most, and our journey and our troubles will +all be at an end," I had said. "Let us be happy together while we have +each other, and when our mutual need is past I shall stay with you +until you send me away." + +"That will never be, Paul," she answered simply. "But I shall be happy +with you while our day lasts." + +And I thought of the text: "For soon the long night cometh." + +I lay outside the tent, trying to sleep; but could not still my mind. +The uncertainty ahead of us, the knowledge of Leroux behind, tried me +sorely, and only Jacqueline's need sustained my courage. + +As I was on the point of dropping asleep I heard a lone wolf howl from +afar, and instantly the pack took up the cry. One of the dogs, a +great, tawny beast who led them, crept toward me and put his head down +by mine, whimpering. The rest roamed ceaselessly about the fire, +answering the wolf's challenge with deep, wolf-like baying. + +I drew my pistols from the pockets of my fur coat. It was pleasant to +handle them. They gave me assurance. We were two fugitives in a land +where every man's hand might be against us, but at least I had the +means to guard my own. + +And looking at them, I began to yield to that temptation which had +assailed me ceaselessly, both at Quebec and since we left St. Boniface, +not to yield up Jacqueline, never to let her go. + +Why should I bear the yoke of moral laws here in this wilderness, with +our pursuing enemy behind--a day's journey perhaps--but leaving me only +a breathing spell, a resting space, before I must fight for Jacqueline? +Or when her own had abandoned her? + +Jacqueline glided out of the tent and knelt beside me, putting her arms +about the dog's neck and her head upon its furry coat. The dogs loved +her, and she seemed always to understand their needs. + +"Paul, there is something wrong with them," she said, her hand still +caressing the mane of the great beast, who looked at her with pathetic +eyes. + +I had noticed that they did not eat that night, but had imagined that +they would do so later when they had recovered from their fatigue. + +"What is wrong with them, Jacqueline?" I asked. + +She raised her head and looked sadly at me. "It is I, Paul," she +answered. + +"You, Jacqueline?" + +"Yes, it is I!" she cried with sudden, passionate vehemence. "It is +_I_ who am wrong and have brought trouble on you. Paul, I do not even +know how you came into my life, nor who I am, nor anything that +happened to me at any time before you brought me to Quebec, except that +my home is there." She pointed northward. "Who am I? Jacqueline, you +say. The name means nothing to me. I am a woman without a past or +future, a shadow that falls across your life, Paul. And I could +perhaps remember, but I know--I _know_--that I must never remember." + +She began weeping wildly. I surmised that she must have been under an +intense strain for days. I had not dreamed that this girl who walked +by my side and paid me the tribute of her docile faith suffered and +knew. + +I took her hand in mine. "Dear Jacqueline," I answered, "it is best to +forget these things until the time comes to remember them. It will +come, Jacqueline. Let us be happy till then. You have been ill, and +you have had great trouble. That is all. I am taking you home. Do +you not remember anything about your home, Jacqueline?" + +She clapped her hands to her head and gave a little terrified cry. + +"I--think--so," she murmured. "But I dare not remember, Paul. + +"I have dreamed of things," she went on in agitated, rapid tones, "and +then I have seemed to remember everything. But when I wake I have +forgotten, and it is because I know that I must forget. Paul, I dream +of a dead man, and men who hate and are following us. Was +there--ever--a dead man, Paul?" she asked, shuddering. + +"No, dear Jacqueline," I answered stoutly. "Those dreams are lies." + +She still looked hopelessly at me, and I knew she was not quite +convinced. + +"Oh, it was not true, Paul?" she asked pleadingly, gathering each word +upon each indrawn breath. + +I placed one arm around her. + +"Jacqueline, there never was any dead man," I said. "It is not true. +Some day I will tell you everything--some day----" + +I broke off helplessly, for my voice failed me, I was so shaken. I +knew that at last I was conquered by the passion that possessed me, +long repressed, but not less strong for its repression. I caught her +in my arms. + +"I love you, Jacqueline!" I cried. "And you--you?" + +She thrust her hands out and turned her face away. There was an awful +fear upon it. "Paul," she cried, "there is--somebody--who---- + +"I have known that," she went on in a torrent of wild words. "I have +known that always, and it is the most terrible part of all!" + +I laid a finger on her lips. + +"There is nobody, Jacqueline," I said again, trying to control my +trembling voice. "He was another delirium of the night, a fantom of +your illness, dear. There was never anybody but me, and there shall +never be. For to-morrow we shall turn back toward St. Boniface again, +and we shall take the boat for Quebec--and from there I shall take you +to a land where there shall be no more grief, neither----" + +I broke off suddenly. What had I said? My words--why, the devil had +been quoting Scripture again! The bathos of it! My sacred task +forgotten and honour thrown to the winds, and Jacqueline helpless +there! I hung my head in misery and shame. + +But very sweetly she raised hers and spoke to me. + +"Paul, dear, if there never was anyone--if it is nothing but a +dream----" Here she looked at me with doubtful scrutiny in her eyes, +and then hastened to make amends for doubting me. "Of course, Paul, if +there had been you could not have known. But though I know my heart is +free--if there was nobody--why, let us go forward to my father's home, +because there will be no cause there to separate us, my dear. So let +us go on." + +"Yes, let us go on," I muttered dully. + +But when the issue came I knew that I would let no man stand between us. + +"And some day I am going to tell you everything I know, and you shall +tell me," she said. "But to-night we have each other, and will not +think of unhappy things--nor ever till the time comes." + +She leaned back against my shoulder and held out her hands to the +fire-light. She had taken off her left glove, and now again I saw the +wedding-ring upon her finger. + +She was asleep. I drew her head down on my knees and spread my coat +around her, and let her rest there. She was happy again in sleep, as +her nature was to be always. But, though I held her as she held my +heart, my soul seemed dead, and I waited sleepless and heard only the +whining of the heavy wind and scurry of the blown snow. + +The wolf still howled from afar, but the dogs only whimpered in answer +among the trees, where they had withdrawn. + +At last I raised her in my arms and carried her inside the tent. She +did not waken, but only stirred and murmured my name drowsily. I stood +outside the tent and listened to her soft breathing. + +How helpless she was! How trusting! + +That turned the battle. I loved her madly, but never again dare I +breathe a word of love to her so long as that shadow obscured her mind. +But if sunlight succeeded shadow---- + +The fire had sunk to a heap of red-grey ashes. I piled on fresh +boughs till the embers caught flame again and the bright spears danced +under the pines. The reek of smoking pine logs is in my nostrils yet. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE FUNGUS + +My rest was miserable. In a succession of brief dreams I fled with +Jacqueline over a wilderness of ice, while in the distance, ever +drawing nearer, followed Leroux, Lacroix, and Pere Antoine. I heard +Jacqueline's despairing cries as she was torn from me, while my +weighted arms, heavier than lead, drooped helplessly at my sides, and +from afar Simon mocked me. + +Then ensued a world without Jacqueline, a dead eternity of ice and snow. + +I must have fallen sound asleep at last, for when I opened my eyes the +sun was shining brightly low down over the Riviere d'Or. The door of +the tent stood open and Jacqueline was not inside. + +With the remembrance of my dream still confusing reality, I ran toward +the trees, shouting for her in fear. + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" I called. + +She was coming toward me. She took me by the arm. "Paul!" she began +with quivering lips. "Paul!" + +She led me into the recesses of the pines. There, in a little open +place, clustered together upon the ground, were the bodies of our dogs. +All were dead, and the soft forms were frozen into the snow, which the +poor creatures had licked in their agony, so that their open jaws were +stuffed with icicles. + +Jacqueline sank down upon the ground and sobbed as though her heart +would break. I stood there watching, my brain paralyzed by the shock +of the discovery. + +Then I went back to the sleigh, on the rear of which the frozen fish +was piled. I noticed that it had a faint, slightly aromatic odor. I +flung the hard masses aside and scooped up a powdery substance with my +hands. + +Mycology had been a hobby of mine, and it was easy to recognize what +that substance was. + +It was the _amanita_, the deadliest and the most widely distributed of +the fungi, and the direst of all vegetable poisons to man and beast +alike. The alkaloid which it contains takes effect only some hours +after its ingestion, when it has entered the blood-streams and begun +its disintegrating action upon the red corpuscles. The dogs must have +partaken of it on the preceding afternoon. + +Jacqueline joined me. The tears were streaming down her cheeks; she +slipped her arm through mine and looked mutely at me. + +I knew this was Leroux's work. He had tricked me again. I had seen +clusters of the frozen fungus outside St. Boniface. I suppose that, +when winter comes suddenly, such growths remain standing till spring +thaws and rots them, retaining in the meanwhile all their noxious +qualities. + +It would have been an easy matter for one of Leroux's agents to have +cast a few handfuls of the deadly powder over the fish while the sleigh +stood waiting outside Danton's door, and the jolting of the vehicle +would have shaken the substance down into the middle of the heap, so +that it would be three or four days before the dogs got to the poisoned +fish. + +I was mad with anger. The white landscape seemed to swim before my +eyes. I meant to kill the man now, and without mercy. I would be as +unscrupulous as he. He would be in this place by the afternoon; I +would wait for him outside the trail. My pistols---- + +Jacqueline was looking up into my face in terror. The sight of her +recalled me to my senses. Leroux afterward--first my duty to her! + +"Paul! What is the matter, Paul?" she cried. "I never saw you look +like that before." + +I calmed myself and led her away, and presently we were standing before +the fire again. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "it is easier to go on than to turn back now." + +She watched me like a lip-reader. "Yes, Paul; let us go on," she +answered. + +So we went on. But our journey was to be very different now. There +was no possibility of taking much baggage with us. We took a few +things out of our suit-cases and disposed them about us as best they +could. + +The heavy sleeping-bags would have made our progress, encumbered as we +were with our fur coats, too slow; but I had hopes that we would reach +the trappers' huts that afternoon, and so decided to discard them in +favour of the fur-lined sleigh-rug, which would, at least, keep +Jacqueline warm. + +So we strapped on our snow-shoes, and I made a pack and put three days' +supplies of food in it and fastened it on my shoulders, securing it +with two straps from the harness. I rolled the rug into a bundle and +tied it below the pack; and thus equipped, we left the dead beasts and +the useless sleigh behind us for Leroux's satisfaction, and set out +briskly upon our march. + +It is a strange thing, but no sooner had I passed out of sight of the +sleigh than, weighted though I was, I felt my spirits rising rapidly. +The freedom of movement and the exhilarating air gave my mind a new +sense of liberty, and Jacqueline, who had been watching me anxiously, +seeing the gloom disappear from my face, tried, first to tempt me to +mirth, and then to match me in it. Sometimes we would run a little +way, and then we would fall back into our steady, ambling plod once +more. + +The cold was less intense, but, looking at the sky, which was heavily +overcast, I knew that the rise in temperature betokened the advent of a +heavy fall of snow, probably before night. + +We were merrier than at any previous time, having by tacit agreement +resolved to put our troubles behind us. Jacqueline laughed gaily at my +clumsy attempts to avoid tripping myself upon my snow-shoes. + +We stopped to look at the trees and the traces of deer-croppings upon +the bark. Sometimes we took to the river-bed, and then again we paced +among the trees, which were now becoming so sparsely scattered that the +trail was hardly discernible. This caused me no concern, however, for +I believed that when we reached the huts, we should be able to obtain +certain information as to the remainder of our course. + +And though I knew that Leroux was behind, and that he would press +forward the more impetuously when he discovered the success of his +deadly ruse, I did not seem to care. Above me was the pale sun, the +glow of health was in my limbs--and beside me walked Jacqueline. + +We must have covered at least a dozen miles or more at the time, when +we stopped for a brief midday meal. I was a little fatigued from +carrying the pack, and my ankles ached from the snow-shoes; but +Jacqueline, who had evidently been accustomed to their use, was as +fresh as when she started. + +I was glad of the respite; but we needed to press on. It was probable +that Simon would camp by our dismantled sleigh that night. + +When we resumed our march the character of the country began to change. +Hitherto we had been traversing an almost interminable plain, but now a +ridge of jagged mountains, bare at their peaks and fringed around the +base with evergreens, appeared in the distance. The sky became more +leaden. + +Suddenly we emerged from among the trees upon an almost barren plateau, +and there again we halted for a breathing spell. + +All that morning I had been looking for the trappers' huts. I had +already come to the conclusion that M. Danton's instructions were to be +taken by and large, for we could not now be more than twenty-five miles +from the chateau, and it was only here that the Riviere d'Or left us, +whirling in quick cascades, ice-free, among the rocks of its narrow +bed, some distance east of us. + +There was, of course, the possibility that the distance had been +understated, and that we were only now half way. But I could not let +my mind dwell upon that possibility. + +I scanned the horizon on every side. It had seemed to me all that day +that our road was running up-hill, but now, looking back, I was +astonished to see how high we had ascended, for the whole of the vast +plain across which we had been travelling lay spread out like a +wrinkled table-cloth before my eyes. + +In that grey light, which shortened every distance, it almost seemed +that I could discern the slope of the St. Lawrence far away, and the +hills, foot-spurs of the mighty Laurentian range, that bordered it. +The mountains which we were approaching seemed quite near, and I knew +that beyond them lay the seigniory. + +I resolved to take my bearings still more accurately, and telling +Jacqueline to wait for me a few minutes at the base of a hill and +setting down my pack, I began the ascent alone. The climb was longer +than I had anticipated. My eyes were aching from the glare of the +snow. I had left my coloured glasses behind me in the tent and gone +on, saying nothing, though I had realized my loss when I was only a +mile or so away. + +However, I hoped that the night would restore my sight, and so, +dismissing the matter from my mind, I struggled up until at last I +stood upon the summit of the hill. + +The view from this point was a stupendous one. New peaks sprang into +vision, shimmering in the sunlight. Patches of dark forest stained the +whiteness of the land, and far away, like a thin, winding ribbon among +the hills, I saw the valley of the Riviere d'Or. + +I cried out in delight and lingered to enjoy the grandeur of the +spectacle. + +Beneath me I saw Jacqueline waiting, a tiny figure upon the snow. My +heart smote me with a deep sense of reproach that I had put her to so +much sacrifice. But I had seen the valley between those mountains, the +only possible entrance to that mysterious land. Nothing could fail us +now. + +I cast my eyes beyond her toward the mist-wrapped tops of the far +Laurentians and the plains. + +And a sense of an inevitable fate came over me as I perceived far away +a tiny, crawling ant upon the snows--Simon Leroux's dog sleigh. + + +I went back to the little, patient figure that was waiting for me, and +I took up my pack again and told her nothing. She stepped bravely out +beside me, frozen, fatigued, but willing because I bade her. She did +not ask anything of me. + +The sun dipped lower, and far away I heard the howl of the solitary +wolf again. + +My mind had been working very fast during that journey down the hill, +and long before I reached Jacqueline I had resolved that she should +know nothing of the pursuit until the moment came when she must be told. + +That the pursuer was Leroux there could be no possible doubt. He had +evidently passed the sleigh, and was undoubtedly pressing forward, +elated and confident of our capture. But he must still be at least a +dozen miles away. + +He could not reach us that night and he could hardly travel by night. +We should have a half day's start of him in the morning. + +I gripped my pistols as we strode along. + +We went on and on. The afternoon was wearing away; the sun was very +low now and all its strength had gone. The wolf followed us, howling +from afar. Once I saw it across the treeless wastes--a gaunt, white, +dog-like figure, trotting against the steely grey of the sky. + +We ascended the last of the foot-hills before the trail dipped toward +the valley, which was guarded by two sentinel mountains of that jagged +ridge before us. From the top I looked back. Simon was nowhere to be +seen. + +"Courage, Jacqueline," I said, patting her arm, "The huts ought to be +here." + +Her courage was greater than my own. She looked up and smiled at me. +And so we descended and went on and on, and the sun dipped below the +edge of the world. + +The wolf crept nearer, and its howls rang out with piercing strokes +across the silence. My eyes ached so that I could hardly discern the +darkening land, and the snow came down, not steadily, but in swirling +eddies blown on fierce gusts of wind. + +And suddenly raising my eyes despairingly, I saw the huts. They stood +about four hundred yards away from where the trail ran through the +mountains. + +There were five of them, and they had not been occupied for at least +two seasons, for the blackened timbers were falling apart, and the +roofs had been torn off all but one of them, no doubt for fuel. The +wind was whirling the snow wildly around them, and it whistled through +the broken, rotting walls. + +I flung my pack inside the roofed one, and began tearing apart the +timbers of another to make a fire. + +Jacqueline stood looking at me in docile faith. + +"I can go on," she said quietly. "I can go on, Paul." + +I caught her hands in mine. "We shall stay here, Jacqueline," I said. + +She did not answer me, but, opening the pack, began the preparation of +our meal, which consisted of some biscuits left from the night before, +when we had made a quantity on the wood ashes. We made tea over the +roaring flames, and sat listening to the wolf's call and the wind that +drove our fire in gusts of smoke and flame. + +The wind grew fiercer. It was a hurricane. It drowned the wolf's +call; it almost silenced the sound of our own voices. Thank God that +we had at least our shelter in that storm. + +I scooped out a bed for Jacqueline inside the snow-filled hut and +spread it with the big sleigh robe. She lay down in her fur coat, and +I wrapped the ends around her. I looked into her sweet face and +marvelled at its serenity. Her eyes closed wearily. + +But, though I was as tired as she, I could not sleep. I crouched over +the fire, pondering over the morrow's acts. + +Should I wait for Leroux and shoot him down like a dog if he molested +us? Or should we hide among the hills and watch him pass by? But that +would avail us nothing. If we went on we must encounter him, and the +sooner the better. + +This problem and a fiercer one filled my mind, for my soul was as +storm-beset as the hut, whose planking shook under the gale's force. I +realized how incongruous my position was. + +I had no status at all. I was accompanying a run-away wife back to her +father's home, perhaps to meet her husband there. And whether Leroux +held me in his present power or not, inexorably I was heading for his +own objective. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SNOW BLINDNESS + +More madly now than ever I felt that fierce temptation. There she lay, +the one woman who had ever seriously come into my life, sleeping so +near to me that I could bend down and rest my hand on the inert form +over which the snow drifted so steadily. + +I brushed it away. I brooded over her. Why had I ever brought her on +that journey? Would that I had kept her, with all her love and +gentleness, for my delight. + +If I had taken her to Jamaica, where I had planned to go, instead of +engaging that mock-heroic odyssey--there, among palm trees, in an +eternal spring, there would have been no need that she should remember. + +I looked down on her. Again the snow covered her. + +It fell so inexorably. It was like Leroux. It was as tireless as he, +and as implacable as he. I brushed it away with frantic haste, and +still it drifted into the doorless hut. + +A dreadful fear held me in its grip: what if she never awoke? Some +people died thus in the snow. I raised the sleigh robe, and saw that +the fur coat stirred softly as she breathed. + +How gently she slept--as gently as she lived. How could her own have +abandoned her in her need? + +At last, out of the wild passions that fought within me, decision was +born. I would go on, because she had bidden me. And I would be ready +for Leroux, and let him act as he saw fit. I loaded my pistols. I +could do no more than fight for Jacqueline, and with God be the issue. + +And with that determination I grew calm. And I sat over the fire and +let my imagination stray toward some future when our troubles would be +in the past and we should be together. + +"Paul!" + +I must have been half asleep, for I came back to myself with a start +and sprang to my feet. Jacqueline had risen upon her knees; she flung +her arms out wildly, and suddenly she caught her breath and screamed, +and stood up, and ran uncertainly toward me, with hands that groped for +me. + +She found me; I caught her, and she pushed me from her and shuddered +and stared at me in that uncertain doubt that follows dreams. + +"I am here, Jacqueline," I said. "With you--always, till you send me +away. Remember that even in dreams, Jacqueline." + +She knew me now, and she was recoiling from me, out through the hut +door, into the blinding snow. I sprang after her. + +"Jacqueline! It is I--Paul! It is Paul! Jacqueline!" + +She was running from me and screaming in the snow. I heard her +moccasins breaking through the thin ice crust. And, mad with terror, I +rushed after her. + +"Jacqueline! It is Paul!" I cried. + +And as I emerged from the hut's shelter a red-hot glare from the east +seemed to sear and kill my vision. It was the rising sun. I had +thought it night, and it was already day. And I could see nothing +through my swollen eyelids except the white light of the shining snow. +The wind howled round me, and though the sun shone, the snowflakes +stung my face like hail. + +I did not know under the influence of what dread dream she was. But I +ran wildly to and fro, calling her, and now and again I heard the sound +of her little moccasins as she plunged through the knee-high snow. + +Sometimes I seemed to be so near that I could almost touch her hand, +and once I heard her panting breath behind me; but I never caught her. +And never once did she answer me. + +"What is it? What is it?" I pleaded madly. "Jacqueline, don't you +know me? Don't you remember me?" + +The sound of the moccasins far away, and then the whine of the wind +again. I did not know where the huts were now. I could see nothing +but a yellow glare. And fear of Leroux came on me and turned my heart +to water. I stood still, listening, like a hunted stag. There came no +sound. + +It was horrible, in that wild waste, alone. I tried to gather my +scattered senses together. + +Eastward, I know, the river lay, and that blinding brightness came from +the east. Southward a little distance, was the hill that we had last +ascended on the evening before. I could discern the merest outlines of +the land, but I fancied that I could see that it sloped upward toward +the south. + +I set off in the direction of the hill, and soon I found myself +climbing. The elevation hid the sun, and this enabled me to glimpse my +surroundings dimly, as through a heavy veil. + +I called once more, and then I was scrambling up the hill, stumbling +and falling on the ice-coated boulders. My coat was open, and the wind +cut like a knife-edge, but I did not notice it. Perhaps from the +hill-top I should see her. + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" I screamed frantically. + +No answer came. I had gained the summit now, and round me I saw the +shadowy outlines of the snow-covered rocks, but five or six feet from +me a deep, impenetrable grey wall obscured everything. I tried to peer +down into the valley, and saw nothing but the same fog there. Once +more I called. + +A dog barked suddenly, not far away, and through the mist I heard the +slide of sleigh-runners on snow; and then I knew. + +I scrambled down, slipping, and gashing my hands upon the rocks and +ice. At the foot of the hill I saw two straight and narrow lines on +the soft snow. They were the tracks of sleigh-runners. + +I followed them, sobbing, and catching my breath, and screaming: + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" + +Then I heard Simon's voice, and with the sound of it my dream came back +with prophetic clearness. + +"_Bonjour,_ M. Hewlett!" he called mockingly. "This way! This way!" + +I turned and rushed blindly in the direction of the cry. I had left my +snow-shoes behind me in the hut, and at each step my feet broke through +the crusted snow, so that I floundered and fell like a drunken man to +choruses of taunts and laughter. + +It was a horrible blindman's bluff, for they had surrounded me, yelling +from every quarter. + +"This way, _monsieur_! This way!" piped a thin, voice which I knew to +be Philippe Lacroix. + +A snowball struck me on the chin, and they began pelting me and +laughing. I was like a baited bear. I was beside myself with rage and +helpless fury. The icy balls hit my face a dozen times; one struck me +behind the ear and hurled me down half stunned. + +I was up again and rushing at my unseen tormentors. I heard the +barking of the dogs far away, and I ran in the direction of the sound, +sobbing with rage. I pulled my pistols from my pockets and spun round, +firing in every direction through that wall of grey, yielding mist that +gave me place but never gave me vision. + +The clouds had obscured the sky and the snow was falling again. My +hands were bare and numb, except where the cold steel of the pistol +triggers seared my fingers like molten metal. + +They had formed a wider circle round me, and pistol range is longer +than snowball range, so that they struck me no more. I heard the +shouts and mockery still, but never Jacqueline's voice. + +"Here, M. Hewlett, here!" piped Philippe Lacroix once more. + +Again I turned and rushed at him, firing shot after shot. I heard his +snow-shoes plodding across the crust, and yells from the others +indicated that Philippe's adventure had been a risky one. + +Then Simon called again and I turned, like a foolish, baited beast, and +fired at him. + +A dog barked once more, very far away, and at last I understood their +scheme. + +Doubtless Simon had reached the huts at dawn and had discovered us +there. He must have been in waiting, but when he saw Jacqueline run +from me he changed his plans and sent the sleigh after her. Then, +realizing from my actions that I was snow-blind, he had remained behind +with some of his followers to enjoy the sport of baiting me, and +incidentally to drive me out of the way while the sleigh went on. + +And now there was complete silence. He had accomplished his purpose. +He had gained all that he had to gain. Fortune had fought upon his +side, as always. + +But Jacqueline---- + +She had tried to escape me. She could not have been playing a +part--she was too transcendentally sincere. Something must have +occurred--some dream which had momentarily crazed her; and she had +confounded me with her persecutors. + +I could not think evil of her. I flung myself down in the snow and +gave way to abject misery. + +But hope is not readily overthrown. For her sake I resolved to pull +myself together. I did not now know whether Leroux was in front or +behind me, or upon either hand. + +I stood deep in the snow, a pistol in each hand, waiting. When he +called again I should make my last effort. + +But he called me no more. Once I heard the dog yelp, far up the +valley, and then there was only the soughing of the wind and the sting +of the driving sleet flakes. And the grey mist had closed in all about +me. I was alone in that storm-swept wilderness and there was no sun to +guide me. + +I saw a shadow at my feet, and stooping down, perceived that accident +had brought me back to the sleigh tracks. From the direction in which +the dog had howled, I judged that my course lay straight ahead as I was +standing. I started off wearily. At least it was better to walk than +to perish in the snow. + +But before many minutes had passed the realization of my loss stung me +into madness again, and I began to run. And, as I ran, I shouted, and, +shouting, I fired. + +I plunged along--half delirious, I believe, for I began to hear voices +on every side of me and to imagine I saw Simon standing, just out of +reach, a shadow upon the mist, taunting me. I followed him at an +undeviating distance, firing, reloading, and firing again. I was no +longer conscious of my progress. The fingers that pressed the triggers +of my pistols had no sensation in them, and in my imagination were +parts of a monstrous mechanism which I directed. My legs, too, felt +like stilts that somebody had strapped to my body, and, instead of +cold, a warm glow seemed to suffuse me. + +And while my helpless body stumbled along its route my mind was back in +New York. This was my apartment on Tenth Street, and Jacqueline sat +behind the curtains. I had dreamed of a long journey through a +snow-bound wilderness, but I had awakened and we were to start for +Jamaica by that day's boat. How dear she was! She raised her eyes, +full of trusting love, to mine, and I knew that there would never be +any parting until death. + +We sat beneath the palms, beside a sea that plunged against our little +island, and the air was fragrant with the scent of orange-blossoms, +carried upon the wind from the distant mainland. We were so happy +there--there was no need to think or to remember. I slept against her +shoulder. + + +Somebody was shaking me. + +"Get up!" he bellowed in my ear. "Get up! Do you want to die in the +snow?" + +I closed my eyes and sank back into a lethargy of sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE CHATEAU + +I had an indistinct impression of being carried for what seemed an +eternity upon the shoulders of my rescuer, and of clinging there +through the delirium that supervened. + +Sometimes I thought I was on a camel's back, pursuing Jacqueline's +abductors through the hot sands of an Egyptian desert; sometimes I was +on shipboard, sinking in a tropical sea, beneath which amid the marl +and ooze of delta depositions, hideous, antediluvian creatures, with +faces like that of Leroux, writhed and stretched up their tentacles to +drag me down. + +Then I would be conscious of the cold and bitter wind again. But at +last there came a grateful sense of warmth and ease, followed by a +period of blank unconsciousness. + +When at last I opened my eyes it was late afternoon. Though they +pained me, I could now see with tolerable distinctness. + +I was lying upon a bed of dried balsam-leaves inside a little hut, and +through the half-open door I could see the sun just dipping behind the +mountains. Besides the bed the hut contained a roughly hewn table and +chair and a bookcase with a few books in it. Upon a wall hung a big +crucifix of wood, and under it an old man was standing. + +He heard me stir and came toward me. I recognized the massive +shoulders and commanding countenance of Pere Antoine, and remembrance +came back to me. + +"Where am I?" I asked. + +"In my cabin, _monsieur_," answered the priest, standing at my side, an +inscrutable calm upon his face. + +"You saved me?" + +"Three days ago. You were dying in the snow. You had fired off your +pistols and had thrown your coat away. I had to carry you back and +find it. It is lucky that I found you, _monsieur_, or assuredly you +would soon have been dead. But for your dog----" + +"_My_ dog!" I exclaimed. + +"Certainly, a dog came to me and brought me a mile out of my route to +where you were lying. But, now, come to think of it, it disappeared +and has not returned. Perhaps it was sent to me by _le bon Dieu_." + +"Where is Mlle. Duchaine?" I burst out. + +"Ah, M. Hewlett," said the priest, looking at me severely, "that was a +wild undertaking of yours, and God does not prosper such schemes, +though I confess I do not understand why you were taking her to her +home. Rest assured she is in good hands. I met the sleigh containing +her, and M. Leroux informed me that all would be well. It is strange +that he did not speak of you, though, and I do not understand how----" + +"He stole her from me when I was snow-blind, and left me to die!" I +exclaimed. "I must rescue her----" + +Father Antoine laid a heavy hand upon my shoulder. + +"Be assured, _monsieur_, that _madame_ is perfectly happy and contented +with her friends," he said. "And no doubt she has already regretted +her escapade. Did I not warn you in Quebec, _monsieur_, that your +enterprise would be brought to naught? And now you will doubtless be +glad of your lesson, and will abandon it willingly and return homeward. +I have to depart at daybreak upon an urgent mission a hundred miles +away, which was interrupted by your rescue; but I shall be back within +a week, by which time you will doubtless be able to accompany me to the +coast. Meanwhile, you will rest here, and my provisions and a few +books are at your disposal." + +"I shall not!" I cried weakly. "I am going on to the _chateau_!" + +He looked at me steadily. + +"You cannot," he said. "If you attempt it you will perish by the way." + +"You cannot stop me!" I cried desperately. + +"Perhaps not, _monsieur_; nevertheless, you will not be able to reach +the _chateau_." + +"Who are you that you should stop me?" I exclaimed angrily. "You are a +priest, and your duty is with souls." + +"That is why," answered Pere Antoine. "You are in pursuit of a married +woman." + +"I do not know anything about that, but I am the protector of a +defenceless one," I answered, "and I shall seek her until she sends me +away. Do you know where her husband is?" + +"No, _monsieur_," answered the old man. "And you?" + +I burst into an impassioned appeal to him. I told him of Leroux and +his conspiracy to obtain possession of the property, of my encounter +with Jacqueline, and how I had rescued her, omitting mention of course +of the murder. + +As I went on I could see the look of surprise upon his face gradually +change into belief. + +I told him of our journey across the snow and begged him to help me to +rescue Jacqueline, or at least to find her. I added that the trouble +had partially destroyed her memory, so that she was not competent to +decide who her protectors were. + +When I had ended he was looking at me with a benignancy that I had +never seen before upon his face. + +"M. Hewlett," he answered, "I have long suspected a part of what you +have told me, and therefore I readily accept your statements. I +believe now that _madame_ has suffered no wrong from you. But I am a +priest, and, as you say, my care is only that of souls. _Madame_ is +married. I married her----" + +"To whom?" I cried. + +"To M. Louis d'Epernay, nephew of M. Charles Duchaine by marriage, less +than two weeks ago in the _chateau_ here." + +The addition of the last word singularly revived my hopes. It had +slipped from his lips unconsciously, but it gave me reason to believe +that the chateau was near by. + +Father Antoine sat down upon the chair beside me. + +"M. Duchaine has been a recluse for many years," he said, "and of late +his mind has become affected. It is said that he was implicated in the +troubles of 1867, and that, fearing arrest, he fled here and built this +chateau, in this desolate region, where he would be safe from pursuit. +If anyone ever contemplated denouncing him, at any rate those events +have long ago been forgotten. But solitude has made a hermit of him +and taken him out of touch with the world of to-day. + +"I believe that Leroux has discovered coal on his property, and by +threatening him with arrest has gained a complete ascendency over the +weak-minded old man. However, the fact remains that his daughter was +married by me to M. d'Epernay some ten or twelve days ago at the +_chateau_. + +"I was uneasy, for it did not look to be like a love-match, and I knew +that M. d'Epernay had the reputation of a profligate in Quebec, where +he was hand in glove with Philippe Lacroix, one of M. Leroux's aids. +But a priest has no option when an expression of matrimonial consent is +made to him in the presence of two witnesses. So I married them. + +"My duties took me to Quebec. There I learned that Mme. d'Epernay had +fled on the night of her marriage, and that her husband was in pursuit +of her. Again it was told me that she was living at the Chateau +Frontenac with another man. It was not for me to question whether she +loved her husband, but to do my duty. + +"I appealed to you. You refused to listen to my appeal. You +threatened me, _monsieur_. And you denied my priesthood. However, I +do not speak of that, for she is undoubtedly safe with her father now, +awaiting her husband's return. And I shall not help you in your +pursuit of her, M. Hewlett, for you are actuated solely by love for the +wife of another man. Is that not so?" he ended, bending over me with a +penetrating look in his blue eyes. + +"Yes, it is so. But I shall go to the chateau," I answered. + +Pere Antoine rose up. + +"You will find food here," he said, "and if you wish to take exercise +there are snow-shoes. Try to find the _chateau_--do what you please; +but remember that if you lose your way I shall not be here to save you. +I shall return from my mission in a week and be ready to conduct you to +St. Boniface. And now, _monsieur_, since we understand each other, I +shall prepare the supper." + +I swallowed a few mouthfuls of food and fell asleep soon afterward. In +the morning when I awoke the cabin was empty. + +My eyes were almost well, but my hands had been badly frozen and were +extremely painful, while I was so weak that I could hardly walk. I +spent the next two days recovering my strength, and on the third I +found myself able to leave the hut for a short tramp. + +I found snow-shoes and coloured glasses in the cabin; my overcoat was +there, and I did not feel troubled in conscience when I appropriated a +pair of warm fur mittens which the good priest had made from mink +skins. They had no fingers, and were admirably adapted to the weather. + +I found one of the pistols in the hut, and in the pocket of my fur coat +were a couple of cartridges which I had overlooked. The rest I had +fired away in my delirium. + +The cabin, was situated in a valley, around which high hills clustered. +Strapping on the snow-shoes, I set to work to climb a lofty peak which +stood at no great distance. + +It took me a couple of hours to make the ascent, and when at last I +sank down exhausted on the summit there was nothing in sight but a +succession of new hills in every direction. I seemed to be on the +summit of the ridge which sloped away to east and west of me. Hidden +among the hills were little lakes. + +There was no sign of life in all that desolate country. + +My disappointment was overwhelming. Surely the _chateau_ was near. I +strode up and down upon the mountain-top, clenching my hands with rage. +It was four days since I had lost Jacqueline, and Leroux had +contemptously left me to die in the snow. He was so sure I could not +follow and find him. + +I began the descent again. But it is easy to lose one's way upon a +mountain-peak, and the hills presented no clear definition to me. Once +in the valley I could locate the cabin again, but the sun had travelled +far toward the west and no longer guided me accurately. + +I must have turned off at a slight angle which took me some distance +out of my course, for my progress was suddenly arrested by a mighty +wall of rock, a sheer precipice that seemed to descend perpendicularly +into the valley underneath. Somewhere a torrent was roaring like a +miniature Niagara. + +I discovered my error and bent my footsteps along the summit of the +precipice, and as I proceeded the noise of the torrent grew louder +until the din was deafening. I was treading now upon a smooth slope, +like the glacis of a fortress. I continued the descent, and all at +once, at no great distance from me, I saw a tremendous waterfall, +ice-sheeted, that tumbled down the face of the declivity and sent up a +cloud of misty spray. + +I stopped to stare in admiration. Far below me the narrow valley had +widened into the smooth, snow-coated surface of a lake. + +And on a point of land projecting from the bottom of that mighty wall I +saw the _chateau_! + +It could have been nothing else. It was a splendid building--not +larger than the house of a country gentleman, perhaps, and made of hewn +logs; but the rude splendour of it against that icy, rocky background +transfixed me with wonder. + +It was a rambling, straggling building, apparently constructed at +different times; having two wings and a wide central hall, with odd +projecting chambers, and it was hidden so cunningly away that it was +visible from this side of the lake only from the point of the rocky +precipice above on which I stood. + +The _chateau_ stood under the overhanging precipice in such a way that +half the building was invisible even from here. It seemed to be set +back into a hollow of the mountainside, which appeared every moment +about to overwhelm it. + +And now I perceived that the smooth slope on which I stood was a +snow-covered glacier, a million tons of ice, pressing ever by its own +weight toward the precipice, and carrying its debris of rocks and +stones toward the waterfall that issued from it and poured in deafening +clamour into the lake below. + +Where the precipice projected the waterfall was split in two, and +rushed down in twin streams, bubbling, tumbling, hissing, plunging into +the lake, which whirled furiously around the spit of land on which the +castle stood, clear of ice for a distance of a hundred feet from the +shore, a foaming maelstrom in which no boat that was ever built could +have endured an instant, but must have been twisted and flung back like +the fantastically shaped ice pinnacles along the marge. + +On each side of the _chateau_ a cataract plunged, veiling itself in an +opacity of mist, tinted with all the spectral hues by the rays of the +westering sun. I could have flung a stone down, not on the _chateau_, +but over it, into the boiling lake. + +Why, that position was impregnable! Behind it the sheer precipice, up +which not even a bird could walk; the impassable lake before it, and +the torrent on either side! + +But--how had M. Charles Duchaine gained entrance there? + +There seemed to be no entrance. And yet the _chateau_ stood before my +eyes, no dream, but very real indeed. There was a small piece of +enclosed land between its front and the lake, and within this I thought +I could see dogs lying. + +That might have been my fancy, for the mountain was too high for me to +be able to distinguish anything readily, and the sublime grandeur of +the scene and the roar of the water made me incapable of clear +discernment. + +Before I reached the hut again I had formulated my plan. I would start +at dawn, or earlier, and work around these mountains, a circuit of +perhaps twenty miles, approaching the _chateau_ by the edge of the +lake. I concluded that there must exist a ridge of narrow beach +between the whirlpool and the castle, though it was invisible from +above, and that the entrance would disclose itself to me in the course +of my journey. + +The hope of finding Jacqueline again banished the last vestiges of my +weakness. I felt like one inspired. And my spirit was exalted, too. +For she so completely filled my heart that she left no place for doubts +and fears. + +That night I paced the little cabin in an ecstasy of joy. And, as I +paced it, suddenly I perceived a strange flicker of light in the north +sky, and went to the door to see the most beautiful phenomenon that I +had ever witnessed. + +There came first a flash, and swiftly long streamers of flame shot up +and spread fanwise over the heavens. They quivered and sank, and +flared again, and broke into innumerable rippling waves; they hung, +broad banners of light, athwart the skies, then slowly faded, to give +place to a wavering interplay of ghostly beams that sought the darkest +places beyond the moon: celestial fingers whiter than the white glow of +a myriad of arc-lamps. + +And somehow the wonder of it filled me with the conviction that all +would be well for those heavenly lights bridged the loneliness of my +soul even as they bridged the sky, from Jupiter, who blazed brilliant +in the east to great Arcturus. + +And, so I felt that, though I crossed a void as wide and fathomless in +search of her, some time she should be mine and that our hearts would +beat together so long as our lives should endure. + + +Although the sun was well above the horizon when I awoke, I started out +on the fourth morning eager to achieve the entrance to the _chateau_. + +First I plodded back to the two mountains which guarded the approach to +the valley, then worked round along the flank of the ridge of peaks, +searching for an entrance. The further I went, however, the higher and +more precipitous became the mountains. + +I realized that there was little chance of finding any access along +this side, so after my noon meal I ascended one of the lower elevations +in order to obtain my bearings. But I could discern neither _chateau_ +nor lake nor waterfall, and the sound of the torrent, far away to the +left, came to my ears only as a faint distant murmur. + +I was far out of the way. + +The snow, which had been falling at intervals during each day since +Jacqueline's abduction, had long ago covered up the tracks of the +sleigh. I had to trust to my own wit to solve my problem, and there +did not seem to be any solution. + +There was no visible entrance to that mountain lake on any side, and to +descend that sheer, ice-coated precipice was an impossibility. + +It was long after nightfall when I reached the cabin again, exhausted +and dispirited. + +I awoke too late on the fifth morning, and I was too stiff to make much +of a journey. I climbed to the edge of the glacier once again in the +hope of discovering an approach. I examined every foot of the ground +with meticulous care. + +But whenever I approached the edge the same wall of rock ran down +vertically for some three hundred feet, veneered with ice and wrapped +in a perpetual blinding spray. + +And yet sleighs could enter that valley below. For at the extreme edge +of the lake, outside the enclosed piece of land, I perceived one, a +tiny thing, far under me, and yet unmistakably a sleigh. + +I was within three hundred feet of Jacqueline's home and yet as far +away as though leagues divided us. I looked down at the _chateau_ and +ground my teeth and swore that I would win her. But all the rest of +that day went in fruitless searching. + +I must succeed in finding the entrance on the following day, for now +Pere Antoine might return at any time, and I knew that he would prove +far less tractable here in his own bailiwick than he had been when I +defied him at the Frontenac. By hook or by crook I must gain entrance +to the valley. + +This was to be my last night in the cabin. I could not return, not +though I were perishing in the snows. + +Happily my eyes were now entirely well, and my hands, though chapped +and roughened from the frost-bites, had suffered no permanent injury. +So I started out with grim resolution on the sixth morning, when the +dawn was only a red streak on the horizon and the stars still lit my +way. Before the sun rose I was standing once more outside those two +sentinel peaks. + +To this point I knew the sleigh had come. But whether it had continued +straight down the valley or turned to the right along that same ridge +which I had fruitlessly explored before, it was impossible to determine. + +I tried to put myself in the position of a man travelling toward the +_chateau_. Which road would I take? How and where would it occur to +me to seek an entrance into the heart of those formidable hills? + +The more I puzzled and pondered over the difficulty the harder it was +to solve. + +As I stood, rather weary, balancing myself upon my snow-shoes, I heard +a wolf's howl quite near to me. Raising my head, I saw no wolf, but an +Eskimo dog--the very dog I had encountered in New York, Jacqueline's +dog! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +UNDER THE MOUNTAINS + +The dog was standing on a rock at the base of the hill immediately +before me--and calling. + +I almost thought that it was calling me. + +I took a few steps toward it, and it disappeared immediately, as though +alarmed--apparently into the heart of the mountain. + +I thought, of course, that it was crouching in a hollow place, or +behind a boulder, and would reappear on my approach, but when I reached +the spot where it had been it was nowhere to be seen. And the +pad-prints ran toward a tiny hole no bigger than the entrance to a +fox's lair--and ended there. + +At this spot an enormous boulder lay, almost concealing the burrow. I +put my shoulder against it--in the hope of dislodging it sufficiently +to enable me to see into the cavity. To my astonishment, at the first +touch it rolled into a new position, disclosing a wide natural tunnel +in the mountainside, through which a sleigh might have passed easily! + +I saw at once the explanation. The boulder was a rocking stone. It +must have fallen at some time from the top of the arch, and happened to +be so poised that at a touch it could be swung into one of two +positions, alternately disclosing and concealing the tunnel in the +cliff wall. + +I stepped within and, striking a match perceived that I was standing +inside a vast cave--a vaulted chamber that ran apparently straight into +the heart of the mountains. + +Great stalactites hung from the roof and dripped water upon the floor, +on which numerous small stalagmites were forming, where they had not +been crumbled away by the passage and repassage of sleighs. These had +left two well-defined tracks in the soft stone under my feet. + +The cave was one of those common formations in limestone hills. How +far it ran I could not know, but I had little doubt that at last I was +well upon my approach to the _chateau_. + +The interior was completely dark. At intervals I struck matches from +the box which I had brought with me, but the road always ran clear and +straight ahead, and I could even guide myself by the ruts in the ground. + +And every time I struck a match I could see the vaulted cavern, wide as +a great cathedral, extending right and left and in front of me. + +I must have been journeying for half an hour when I perceived a faint +light ahead of me, and at the same time I heard the gurgling of a +torrent somewhere near at hand. + +The light grew stronger. I could see now that the cavern had narrowed +considerably: there were no longer any ruts in the ground, and by +stretching out my arms I could touch the wall on either side of me. I +advanced cautiously until the light grew quite bright; I saw the tunnel +end in front of me, and emerged into an open space in the heart of the +hills. + +I say an open space, for it was as large as two city blocks; but it was +as though it had been dug out of the mountains by an enormous cheese +scoop, for on all sides sheer, vertical walls of rock ascended, so high +that the light of day filtered down only dimly. A swift river, issuing +from the base of one of these stupendous cliffs, ran across the opening +and disappeared into a cave upon the other side. + +I glanced at my watch. It seemed that I had been travelling for an +interminable time, but it was barely eleven o'clock. I sat down to +eat, and the thought occurred to me that this would make a good camping +place, if necessary, for it was quite warm at such a depth below the +surface of the hills, and my fur coat had begun to feel oppressive. I +felt drowsy, too, and somehow, before I was aware of any fatigue, I was +asleep. + +That was a lucky thing, for I was not destined to sleep much the +following night. It was three o'clock when I awoke, and at first, as +always since my journey began, I could not remember where I was. And, +as always, it was the thought of Jacqueline that recalled to me my +surroundings. + +I sprang to my feet and made hasty preparations to resume my journey. + +A short investigation showed me that I had come into a _cul-de-sac_, +for there was no path through the opposite hills. There were, however, +a number of extensive caves in the porous limestone cliffs, any of +which might prove to be the sequence of the road. + +The first thing that I perceived on beginning my search was that men +had been here before me. + +What was the place? A robbers' den? A camp of outlaws? + +In the first cave that I explored I found a stock of provisions--flour +and canned meats and matches--snugly stored away safe from the damp and +snow. Near by were picks and shovels and three very reputable +blankets, with a miscellany of materials suggestive of the camping +party's outfit. + +I might have been more surprised than I was, but my thoughts were +centred on Jacqueline, and the waning of the light showed me that the +sun must be well down in the sky. I must get on at once if I were to +reach the _chateau_ that night. + +But how? + +I might have wandered for an indefinite time among those caves before +striking the road. That I was off the track now seemed certain, for it +was obvious that no sleigh could pass through those walls. The thin +drift of snow that had covered the ground was almost melted, but enough +remained to have showed the pad-prints of the dog, if it had passed +that way. + +There was none; nor were there tracks of sleigh runners, which would, +at least, have scored them in the sandy ooze along the bed of the +rivulet. + +I had evidently then strayed from the right course while wandering +through the tunnel, and thus come by mischance into this blind alley. + +I had noticed, as I have said, that the path narrowed considerably +during the last few hundred feet that I had traversed before I reached +this open place. In the darkness I might easily have debouched along +one of the numerous paths which, no doubt, existed all through the +interior of this limestone formation. + +I started back in haste and reentered the tunnel again, striking a +match every few seconds, lighting each by its predecessor. + +I had been travelling back for about ten minutes when I noticed at my +feet the charred stump of a match that I had thrown away some time +before. I looked around me and saw that I was again in the main road. +There were the faint depressions caused by the sleigh runners in the +soft stone, and the roof and side walls of the tunnel again stretched +away into the obscurity around me. + +Satisfied that I had retraced my steps sufficiently far, I turned about +and began to proceed cautiously in the opposite direction, keeping this +time as far as possible to the right of the road instead of to the +left, as before. The box of matches which I had brought with me was +nearly exhausted, but, by shielding each one carefully, I was able to +examine my ground with fair assurance of my being in the right course. + +A draft was now beginning to blow quite strongly inward, and this +convinced me that I was approaching the tunnel's end. + +As I proceeded I kept looking to the left to endeavor to locate the +narrow passage into which I had strayed, but it must have been the +merest opening in the wall, so small that only a miracle of chance had +led me into it, for I saw nothing but the straight passage before me. + +Presently I began to hear a murmur of water in the distance, and then a +faint flicker of light. The ground began to grow softer, and now I was +treading upon ooze and mud instead of rock. + +The murmur increased in a sonorous crescendo until the full cadence of +the mighty waterfall burst on my ears. + +A fiery ball seemed to fill the exit. The red sun, barred with bands +of coal-black cloud, was dipping into the farther verge of the lake. + +The thunder of the cataracts filled my ears. A fine spray, like a +garment of filmy silk, obscured my clearer vision; but through and +beyond it, between two torrents that sailed above like crystal bows, I +saw the _chateau_ before me. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE ROULETTE-WHEEL + +I stared at the scene in amazement, for the transition from the dark +tunnel through which I had come was an astounding one, and I could +hardly believe the evidence of my eyes. + +I had passed right through the hollow heart of those mighty hills and +now stood underneath the huge glacier, with its million tons of ice +above me, from which the cataracts tumbled, drenching me with spray, +though I was fully a hundred yards away from the log _chateau_. + +The building was located, as I had surmised, upon a narrow strip of +land, invisible from above except where its tongue, containing the +enclosed yard, ran out into the lake. It stood far back beneath the +over-hanging ledge and seemed to be secured against the living rock. +It was evident that there was no other approach except the tunnel +through which I had come, for all around the land that turbulent +whirlpool raved, where the two cataracts contended for the mastery of +the waters. + +And for countless ages they must have fought together thus, and neither +gained, not since the day when those mountains rose out of the primeval +ooze. + +Within the enclosed space, which was larger than I had thought on +viewing it from above, were two or three small cabins--inhabited, +probably, by habitant or half-breed dependents of the seigneur. + +I must have crouched for nearly an hour at the tunnel entrance, staring +in stupefied wonder--for it grew dark, and one by one lights began to +flare at the windows until the whole north wing and central portion of +the building were illuminated. But the south wing, nearest me, was +dark, and I surmised that this portion was not occupied. + +Fortune still seemed to favour me, and with this conclusion and the +thought of Jacqueline, I gained courage to advance again. + +It was almost dark now and growing bitterly cold. I felt in my pocket +for my pistol and loaded it with the two cartridges that alone remained +of the lot I had brought with me. Then I advanced stealthily until I +stood beneath the cataract; and here I found the spray no longer +drenched me. The splendid torrent shot out like a crystal-arch above +me--so strong and compact that only those at some distance could feel +the mist that veiled it like a luminous garment. + +I came upon a door in the dark wing and, turning the handle +noiselessly, found myself inside the _chateau_. And at once my ears +were filled with yells and coarse laughter in men's and women's voices. + +There was no storm-door, and the interior of the _chateau_--at least, +the wing in which I found myself--was almost as cold as the outside. I +stood still, hesitating which way to take. A fiddle was being played +somewhere, and the bursts of noisy laughter sounded at intervals. + +As my eyes became accustomed to my surroundings I perceived that I was +standing near the foot of an uncarpeted wooden stairway. There was a +dark room with an open door immediately in front of me, and another at +the farther end of the passage, from beneath which a glimmer of light +issued, and it was from this room that the sounds of laughter and music +came. + +While I was pondering upon my next movement, heavy footsteps fell on +the story above me, and a man began coming down the stairs. I stole +into the dark room in front of me, and had hardly ensconced myself +there than he brushed past and went into the room at the end of the +hallway. + +And I was certain that he was Leroux. + +It was evident that he had not closed the door behind him, for the +sounds of the fiddle and of the revellers became much more distinct, I +had left my snowshoes near the entrance to the tunnel, and my moccasins +made no sound upon the floor. + +I crept out of my hiding place and went toward the open door. As I had +surmised, this was the place of the assemblage. I crouched there, with +my pistol in my hand. On the opposite side of the room Simon Leroux +was standing, a sneering smile upon his face. + +The scene I saw through the crack of the door quite took my breath away. + +The room was an enormous one, evidently forming the entire central +portion of the _chateau_. It was a ballroom, or had been a ballroom, +once, for it had a wide hardwood floor, somewhat worn and uneven. The +walls were hung with portraits, evidently of the owner's ancestors, for +I caught a glimpse of several faces in wigs and periwigs. + +The furniture was of an old type. Pushed against one wall, near where +Leroux stood, was an ancient piano, and standing upon the other side an +old man played upon a violin. + +He must have been nearly eighty years of age. His face had fallen in +over the toothless gums, leaving the prominent cheek-bones protruding +like those of a skull, and his head was a heavy mat of straight grey +hair. He looked like a full-blooded Indian. + +Two couples were dancing on the floor. Each man had an Indian woman. +One was middle-aged; the other, a comely young girl with heavy silver +earrings, was laughing noisily as her companion dragged her to a +standstill in front of the fiddler. + +"Play faster, Pierre Caribou!" he yelled, pushing the old man backward. + +It was the man with the patch! + +"Be quiet, Jean Petitjean!" exclaimed the girl, giving him a mock blow. +"Thou shall not hurt my father!" + +They laughed drunkenly and resumed the dance. The man with the older +woman was not--greatly to my surprise--Jean Petitjean's companion of +the night. The woman was addressing him as Raoul. She seemed trying +to quiet him, for he was shouting boisterously as he twirled. + +From his post across the room Leroux watched the proceedings with his +sneering smile. + +Flaring candles were set in sconces of wrought iron around the room, +casting a pallid light upon the scene, and so unreal it would have been +but for my recognition of the men that I might have expected it to +disappear before my eyes. + +I crept back from the door and, tracing my journey along the corridor, +began to ascend the stairs. + +On the first story I perceived a number of rooms, but those whose doors +were open were dark and apparently empty. I imagined that all the +magnificence of the _chateau_ was concentrated in that big ballroom. + +The corridor on the first story had smaller passages opening out of +it--one at each end. I turned to the left. Now the sound of the +cataracts, which had never left my ears, became a din. The passages +were full of stale tobacco smoke. And advancing I suddenly found +myself face to face with Philippe Lacroix. + +He was seated at a table in a room writing, and I came right upon the +door before I was aware of it. I saw his thin face with the little +upturned mustache and the cold sneer about the mouth; and I think I +should have shot him if he had looked up. But he neither heard nor saw +me, but wrote steadily, puffing at a vile cigar, and I crept back from +the door. + +Thank God, Jacqueline was not among those brutes below! But I +shuddered to think of her environment here. + +I turned back and followed the corridor to the right, and came to a +little hall toward the rear of the building, as I judged, where the +noise of the torrents was less loud, although I now perceived that the +_chateau_ was in a continual mild tremor from the force of their +discharge. + +The windows in this little hall were broken in several places, and had +evidently been in this condition for a long time, for they were covered +with strips of paper, through which the wind entered in chilling gusts. +Beyond me was an open door, and behind it I saw the dull glow of a +stove and felt its heat. + +I approached cautiously and looked in. + +I never saw a room so littered and uncared for. There were books +around the walls and books upon the floor, covered with dust; there was +dust and dirt and debris everywhere, and spider-webs along the walls +and ceiling. The impression of the whole place was that of ruin. + +Facing me, above a cracked and ancient mirror, were two rusty +broad-swords, and in the mirror I saw a large, oaken table reflected. +Seated at it, clothed in a threadbare coat of very ancient fashion, was +an old man with long, snow-white hair and a white, forked beard. He +was busily transferring a stack of gold-pieces from his right to his +left side; and then he began scribbling on a sheet of paper. He paid +me not the smallest attention as I entered. + +Not even when I stood beside him did he look up, but went on sorting +out his coins and jotting down figures upon the paper. Sheets of it, +covered with penciled figures, stood everywhere stacked upon the table, +and other sheets were strewn among the books upon the floor; and while +I watched, the old man laid aside the sheet he had been writing on and +drew another sheet from the top of a thick pile beside him. + +There was a door behind his chair leading, I imagined, into a +lumber-room. I walked around the room and looked through it, but the +place beyond was dark. + +Then I came back to the old man, who still paid me not the least +attention. + +Now I perceived that the top of the table was very curiously designed. +It was marked off with squares and columns, and in each square were +figures in black and red. Upon one end of the table at which the old +man sat was a cup-shaped, circular affair of very dark wood--teak, it +resembled--once delicately inlaid with pearl. But now most of the +inlay had disappeared, leaving unsightly holes. + +At the bottom of the cup were a number of metallic compartments, and +the whole interior portion was revolving slowly at a turn of the old +man's fingers. + +He picked a tiny ivory ball from the table and placed it in the cup. +He set the interior spinning and the ball circulating in the reverse +direction. The sphere clicked and clattered as it forced its way among +the metallic strips. + +It may seem strange that I did not at first recognize a roulette-wheel. +But the game is more a diversion of the rich than of those with whom +fortune had thrown me. Gambling had never appealed to me, and I knew +roulette only by reputation. + +The ball stopped and settled in one of the compartments, and the old +man took a gold-piece from one of the squares on the table, transferred +a little pile of gold from his right side to his left, and jotted down +some figures upon his paper. + +And suddenly I was aware of an abysmal rage that filled me. It seemed +like an abominable dream--the futile old man, the ruffians and their +wenches below. And I had endured so much for Jacqueline, to find +myself immeshed in such things in the end. I stepped forward and swept +the entire heap of gold into the centre of the table. + +"M. Duchaine!" I shouted. "Why are you playing the fool here when your +daughter is suffering persecution?" + +The old man seemed to be aware of my presence for the first time. He +looked up at me out of his mild old eyes, and shook his head in +apparent perplexity. + +"You are welcome, _monsieur_," he said, half rising with a courtly air. +"Do you wish to stake a few pieces in a game with me?" + +He gathered up a handful of the coins and pushed them toward me. + +"Of course, we shall give back our stakes at the end," he continued, +eyeing me with a cunning expression, in which I seemed to detect +avarice and madness, too. + +"This is just to see how well we play. Afterward, if we are satisfied, +we will play for real money--real gold." + +He began to divide the gold-pieces into two heaps. + +"You see, _monsieur_, I have a system--at least, I nearly have a +system," he went on eagerly. "But it may not be so good as yours. +Come. You shall be the banker, and see if you can win my money from +me. But we shall return the stakes afterward." + +"M. Duchaine!" I shouted in his ear. "Where is your daughter?" + +"My daughter," he repeated in mild surprise. "Ah, yes; she has gone to +New York to make our fortune with the system. You see," he continued +with senile cunning, "she has taken away the system, and so I am not +sure whether I can beat you. But make your play, _monsieur_." There +was at least no indecision in the manner in which he set the wheel +spinning. + +I did not know what to do. I was fascinated and bewildered by the +situation. + +In desperation I thrust a gold-piece upon one of the numbers at the +head of a column. The wheel stopped, and the ball rolled into one of +its compartments. The old man thrust several gold-pieces toward me. + +I staked again and again, and won every time. Within five minutes the +whole heap of gold-pieces lay at my side. + +The dotard looked at me with an expression of imbecile terror. + +"You will give them back to me?" he pleaded. "Remember, _monsieur_, it +was agreed that we should return the money." + +I thrust the heap of coins toward him. "Now, M. Duchaine," I said; "in +return for these you will conduct me to Mlle. Jacqueline." + +He shook his head as though he had not understood. + +"It is very strange," he said. "I do not understand it at all. The +system cannot be at fault; and yet----" + +I snatched the paper from his grasp and threw it on the floor, then +pulled him to his feet. + +"Enough of this nonsense, M. Duchaine," I said. "Will you conduct me +to Mlle. Jacqueline immediately, or shall I go and find her?" + +"I am here, _monsieur_," answered a voice at the door; and I whirled, +to see Jacqueline confronting me. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +SOME PLAIN SPEAKING + +I took three steps toward her and stood still. For this was +Jacqueline; but it was not _my_ Jacqueline. It might have been +Jacqueline's grandmother when she was a girl--this haughty belle with +her high waist and side curls, and her flounced skirt and aspect of +cold recognition. + +She did not stir as I approached her, but stood still, framed in the +door-way, looking at me as though I were an unwelcome stranger. My +outstretched arms fell to my sides. I halted three paces in front of +her. There was no answering welcome on her face, only a cold little +smile that showed she knew me. + +"Jacqueline!" I cried. "It is I, Paul! You know me, Jacqueline?" + +Jacqueline inclined her head. "Oh, yes; I know you, _monsieur_," she +answered. "Why have you come here?" + +"To see you, Jacqueline! To save you, Jacqueline!" + +She made me a mocking courtesy. "I am infinitely obliged to you, +_monsieur_, for your good will," she said; "but I do not need your aid. +I am with friends now, M.--M. Paul!" + +I withdrew a little way and leaned my hand against the table for +support, breathing heavily. Behind me I heard the click, click of the +roulette-ball as it pursued its course around the wheel. The old +dotard had already forgotten me, and was playing with his right hand +against his left again. + +"Do you not want to see me, Jacqueline?" I asked, watching her through +a whirling fog. + +"No, _monsieur_," she answered chillingly. "No, _monsieur_!" + +"Do you wish me to go?" + +She said nothing, and I walked unsteadily toward the door. She +followed me slowly. I went out of the room and pulled the door to +behind me. I knew that after it had closed I should never see +Jacqueline again. + +She opened it and stood confronting me; and then burst into a flood of +impassioned speech. + +"Why have you followed me here to persecute me?" she cried. "Are you +under the illusion that I am helpless? Do you think the friends who +rescued me from you have forgotten that you exist? You took advantage +of my helplessness. I do not want to see you. I hate you!" + +"You told me that you loved me, and I believed you, Jacqueline," I +answered miserably, watching the colour flame to her lovely face. And +I could see she remembered that. + +"When I was ill you used me for your own base schemes," she went on +with cutting emphasis. "And you--you followed me here. Do you think +that I am unprotected, and that you are dealing only with an old man +and a helpless woman? Why, I have friends who would come in and kill +you if I but raised my voice!" + +"Raise your voice, _mademoiselle_. I am ready for your friends," I +answered. + +She looked less steadily at me and seemed to waver. + +"What have you come for?" she asked. "Have you not had money enough? +Do you want more?" + +I seized her by the wrists. Thus I held her at arm's length, and my +fingers tightened until I saw the flesh grow white beneath them. The +intensity of my rage beat hers down and made it a puny thing. + +"Jacqueline! You take me for an adventurer?" I cried. "Is _that_ what +they told you? Why do you think I brought you so near your home when +you were, as you said, helpless? Only a few nights ago you said you +loved me; that you would never send me away until I wished to go. What +is it that has happened to change you so, Jacqueline?" + +I had her in my arms. She struggled fiercely, and I let her go. + +"How dare you, _monsieur_!" she panted. "Go at once, or I shall call +for aid!" + +So I went into the passage; and as I left the room I could still hear +the hellish click of the ivory ball in the roulette-wheel. I was +utterly confounded. + +But before I reached the end of the little hall Jacqueline came running +back to me. + +"Monsieur!" she gasped. "M. Paul! For the sake of--of what I once +thought you, I do not want you to be seen. You are in dreadful danger. +Come back!" + +"Never mind the danger, _madame_," I answered, and I saw her flinch at +the word and look at me in dazed bewilderment. "Never mind my danger." + +"It is for your own sake, _monsieur_," she said more gently. + +"No, Mme. d'Epernay," I answered; and she winced again, as though I had +struck her across the face. + +"For my sake," she pleaded, catching at my arm, and at that moment I +heard a door slam underneath and heavy footsteps begin slowly to ascend +the stairs. + +"No, _madame_," I answered, trying to release my arm from her clasp. +Her face was full of fear, and I knew it was fear of the man below, not +me. + +"Then for the sake of--our love, Paul!" she gasped. + +I suffered her to lead me back into the room. In truth, I was in no +hurry to go. As she drew me back and closed the door behind us I heard +the footsteps pause and turn along the corridor. + +I knew that heavy gait as well as though I already saw Leroux's hard +face before my eyes. + +Jacqueline pushed me inside the room behind her father's chair and +closed, but did not hasp, the door. The room was completely dark, and +I did not know whether it connected with other rooms or was a mere +closet, but the freshness of the air in it inclined me to the former +view. + +Over my head the torrent roared, and I had to stand very close to the +door to hear what passed. + +I heard Leroux tramp in and his voice mingling with the _click-click_ +of the ball in the roulette-wheel. + +"Who is here?" he demanded. + +"I am," answered Jacqueline. + +"I thought I heard Lacroix," said Leroux thickly. + +"I have not seen M. Lacroix to-day," Jacqueline returned. + +Leroux stamped heavily about the room and then sat down. I heard the +legs of his chair scratch the wooden floor as he drew it up to the +table. + +"_Maudit_!" he burst out explosively. "Where is d'Epernay? I am tired +of waiting for him!" + +"I have told you many times that I do not know," answered Jacqueline; +and there followed the _click-click_ of the ball inside the wheel again. + +"How long will you keep up this pretense, _madame_?" cried Leroux +angrily. "What have you to gain by concealing the knowledge of your +husband from me?" + +"M. Leroux, why will you not believe that I remember nothing?" answered +Jacqueline. + +"How can you have forgotten? Why did you run away after marrying him? +What were you doing in New York? Who was the man who accompanied you +to the Merrimac?" he shouted. + +Through the chink of the door I saw the old man look up in mild protest +at the disturbing sounds. I clenched my fists, and the temptation to +make an end of Leroux was almost too strong for my restraint. + +But to Jacqueline the insult conveyed no meaning, and Leroux continued +in more moderate tones. + +"Come, _madame_, why do you not play fair with me?" he asked. "Who is +that man Hewlett, and why did he accompany you so far toward your +_chateau_? Before God, I know your husband and he have been plotting +with Tom Carson against me, but why he should thus place himself in my +power I cannot understand." + +"Ah, you have spoken of a Tom Carson many times," said Jacqueline. +"Soon, _monsieur_, I shall begin to believe that such a person really +exists." + +"Tell me where you met Hewlett." + +"I tell you for the last time, _monsieur_, that I do not remember. But +what I do remember I shall tell you. After my father had turned M. +Louis d'Epernay out of his home, whither he had come to beg money to +pay his gambling debts, you brought him back. You made my father take +him in. He wanted to marry me. But I refused, because I had no love +for him. But you insisted I should marry him, because he had gained +you the entrance to the seigniory and helped you to acquire your power +over my father. Oh, yes, _monsieur_, let us be frank with each other, +as you have expressed the desire to be." + +"Go on," growled Leroux, biting his lips. "Perhaps I shall learn +something." + +"Nothing that you do not already know, _monsieur_," she flashed out +with spirit. "My father came here, long ago, a political fugitive, in +danger of death. You knew this, and you played upon his fears. You +brought your friends and encouraged him to gamble and waste his money +in his old age, when his mind had become enfeebled. + +"Yes, you played on the old gambling instinct which had laid dormant in +him for forty years. You made him think he was acting the _grand +seigneur_, as his father had done in earlier days, in his other home at +St. Boniface. + +"You drained him of his last penny, and then you offered him ten +thousand dollars to gamble with in Quebec, telling him of the delights +of the city and promising him immunity," the girl went on +remorselessly. "And for this he was to assign his property to Louis, +thinking, of course, that he could soon make his fortune at the tables. +And Louis was to marry me, and in turn sell the seigniory to you. And +so I married Louis under threat of death to my father. + +"Oh, yes, _monsieur_, the plan was simple and well devised. And I knew +nothing of it. But Louis d'Epernay blurted it all out to me upon our +wedding night. I think the shame of knowing that I had been sold to +him unhinged my mind, for I ran out into the snows. + +"Now you know all, _monsieur_, for I remember nothing more until I +found myself travelling back with M. Hewlett in the sleigh. You say I +was in New York. Well, I do not remember it. + +"And as for Louis d'Epernay, I know nothing of him--but I will die +before he claims me as his wife!" + +She had grown breathless as she proceeded with her scathing +denunciation and now stood facing him with an aspect of fearless +challenge on her face. And then I had the measure of Leroux. He +laughed, and he beat down her scorn with scorn. + +"You have underestimated your price, _madame_," he sneered. "Since you +have learned so much, I will tell you more. You have cost me twenty +thousand dollars, and not ten; for besides the ten thousand paid to +your father, Louis got ten thousand also, upon the signing of the +marriage contract. So swallow that, and be proud of being priced so +high! And the seigniory is already his, and I am waiting for him to +return and sell me the ground rights for twenty-five thousand more, and +if I know Louis d'Epernay he will not wait very long to get his fingers +round it." + +Jacqueline stood watching him with supreme indifference. + +The man's coarse gibes had flown past her without wounding her, as they +would have hurt a lower nature. + +"No doubt he will return," she answered quietly. "If he would take ten +thousand for me, surely he will take twenty-five thousand for the +seigniory. You have us in your power." + +"Then why the devil doesn't he come?" roared Leroux. "If he is +intriguing with Carson, by God, I know enough to shut him up in jail +the rest of his life. And so, _madame_," he ended quietly, "it will +perhaps be worth your while to tell me why Tom Carson sent this Hewlett +back to the _chateau_; for no doubt the wolves have picked him pretty +clean by now." + +"Listen to me, Simon Leroux," said Jacqueline, standing up before him, +as indomitable in spirit as he. "All your plots and schemes mean +nothing to me. My only aim is to take my father away from here, from +you and M. d'Epernay, and let you wrangle over your spoil. There are +more than four-legged wolves, M. Leroux; there are human ones, and, +like the others, when food is scarce they prey upon each other." + +"I like your spirit!" exclaimed Simon, staring at her with frank +admiration. + +And Jacqueline's head drooped then. Unwittingly Simon had pierced her +defences. + +But he never knew, for before he had time to know the grey-beard rose +upon his feet and rubbed his thin hands together, chuckling. + +"Never mind your money, Simon," he said. "I'm going to be richer than +any of you. Do you know what I did with that ten thousand? I gave it +to my little daughter, and she has gone to New York to make our +fortunes at Mr. Daly's gaming-house. No, there she is!" he suddenly +exclaimed. "She has come back!" + +Leroux wheeled round and looked from one to the other. + +"So that was the purpose of your visit to New York?" he asked the girl. +"So--you have not quite forgotten that, _madame_! Your price was not +too vile a thing for you to take it to New York with you! Your shame +was not too great for you to remember that your father had ten thousand +dollars!" + +"It was not mine," she flashed back at Leroux. "My father would have +lost it again to you. I took it to New York because I thought that I +could make enough to give him a home during the rest of his days. Do +you think I would have touched a penny of it, _monsieur_?" + +"I don't know," answered Leroux. "But we will soon find out. Where is +that money, _madame_?" + +Jacqueline's lips quivered. I saw her glance involuntarily toward the +door behind which I was standing. + +And suddenly the last phase of the problem became clear to me. +Jacqueline thought I had robbed her. + +I stepped from behind the door and faced Leroux. "I have that money," +I said curtly. + +I saw his face turn white. He staggered back, and then, with a bull's +bellow, rushed at me, his heavy fists aloft. I think he could have +beaten out my brains with them. + +But he stopped short when he saw my automatic pistol pointing at his +chest. And he saw in my face that I was ready to shoot to kill. + +"You thief--you spy--you treacherous hound, I'll murder you!" he roared. + +The dotard, who had been looking at me, came forward. + +"No, no, I won't have him murdered, Simon," he protested, laying a +trembling hand on Leroux's shoulder. "He has almost as good a roulette +system as I have." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +WON--AND LOST + +We must have stood confronting each other for fully a minute. Then +Leroux dropped his hands and smiled sourly at me. + +"You seem--temporarily--to have the advantage of me, M. Hewlett," he +said. "I respect your pertinacity, and now at last I am content in +having discovered the motive of your enterprise. I thought you were +hired by Carson. If you had been frank with me we might have come to +an understanding long ago. + +"So, since you have managed to come thus far, and since I am a man of +business, the best thing we can do is to talk over our difficulties and +try to adjust them. You will recall that on the occasion of our +meeting in New York I asked you what your price was. But of course you +were not then prepared to answer me, since you had your price already. +Well, have you come here to get more?" + +There was an indescribable insolence in his tone. In spite of the fact +that I had him at my mercy, the man's force and courage almost made him +my master then. + +"You may leave us, Mme. d'Epernay," he said to Jacqueline. "No doubt +your absence will spare your feelings, for we are going to be frank in +our speech." + +"I thank you for your consideration, M. Leroux," replied Jacqueline, +and walked quietly out of the room. It occurred to me that Leroux +could hardly be more frank than he had been, but I sat down and waited. +The ball was clicking round the wheel again, and very faintly, through +the roar of the cataracts, I heard the sound of the fiddle below. + +Leroux sat down heavily. + +"I will put down my cards," he said. "I have you here in my power. I +have four men with me. This dotard"--he glanced contemptuously at old +Duchaine--"has no bearing on the situation. You can, of course, kill +me; but that would not help you. You are in possession of some money +belonging to Mme. d'Epernay, and also of certain information that I +shall be glad to receive. There is no law in this valley except my +will. Give me the information I want, keep your money, and go." + +I waited. + +"In the first place, are you, or are you not, in Carson's pay? I shall +believe your answer because, if you are, I shall offer you a better +price to join me, and therefore it will not pay you to lie. But you +will not be able to deceive me by pretending to be." + +"I am not," I answered. + +"Then why did he send you here?" + +"I left his employ three days before I met Mme. d'Epernay. If you were +in New York you must have seen that I was not there." + +"Good. Second, where is Louis d'Epernay?" + +"I have never seen the man," I replied. + +Leroux glanced incredulously at me. + +"Then your meeting with _madame_ was purely an accident?" he inquired. +"Your only desire, then, was to get the money you knew she was carrying +with her? But how did you know that she was carrying that money?" + +I shrugged my shoulders. How was it possible for us to reach an +understanding? + +"I don't know why you are lying to me," he said. "It is not to your +advantage. You must have known that she was in New York; Louis must +have told Carson, and he must have told you. And Louis must have told +you the secret of the entrance, unless----" + +"Listen to me!" I cried furiously. "I will not be badgered with any +more questions. I have told you the truth. I met Mme. d'Epernay by +accident, and I escorted her toward the _chateau_, and followed her +after you kidnapped her, to protect her from you." + +He grunted and glanced at me with an inscrutable expression upon his +hard features. + +"You are in love with her?" he asked. + +"Put it that way if you choose," I answered. + +He scowled at me ferociously, and then he began studying my face. I +returned stare for stare. Finally he banged his big fist down upon the +table. + +"Well, it doesn't matter," he said, "because, whatever your purpose, +you cannot do any harm. And you understand that she is a married +woman. So you will, no doubt, agree to take your money and depart?" + +"I shall go if she tells me to go," I answered; but even while I spoke +my heart sank, for I had little hope. + +"That is easily settled," answered Leroux. "I will bring her back and +you shall hear the decision from her own lips." + +He left the room, and I sat there alone beside the dotard, listening to +the click of the ball and the chink of the coins, and the roar of the +twin cataracts above. + +In truth, I had no further excuse for staying. I knew what +Jacqueline's reply must be. + +But there had been a sinister smoothness in Leroux's latest mood. I +did not trust the man, for all his bluntness. I suspected something, +and I did not intend to relax my guard. + +A gentle touch upon the elbow made me leap round in my chair. Old +Charles Duchaine had ceased to play and was watching me out of his mild +eyes. His fingers stroked my coat-sleeve timidly, as though he were +afraid of me. + +"Don't go away!" he said with a shrewd leer. "Don't go away!" + +"Eh?" I exclaimed, startled at this answer to my own self-questioning. + +"Simon is a bad man," whispered the greybeard, putting his nodding head +close down to mine. "He won't let you go away. He never lets anyone +go when they have come here. He didn't know my little daughter was +going, but I was too clever for him, because he wasn't here. They +think I am a silly old man, but I know more than they think. Simon +thinks he has got me in his power, but he hasn't." + +"How is that?" I inquired, startled at the man's sincerity. I fancied +that he must have been pretending to be half imbecile for reasons of +his own. + +"I have a system," leered the dotard. "I can win thousands and +millions with it. I have been perfecting it for years. I have sent my +little daughter to New York to play. Then I shall put Simon out of the +house and we shall all be happy in Quebec together." + +I turned from him in disgust, and, after ineffectually tapping my arm +for a few moments, he went back to his wheel. But, though I was +disappointed to discover that my surmise as to his playing a part was +incorrect, his words set me thinking. An imbecile old person is often +a fair reader of character. Was Simon plotting something? + +He came back with Jacqueline before I could decide. + +"If you bid him, _madame_, M. Hewlett is willing to take his +departure," said Leroux to her. "Is it your wish that he remain or go?" + +"Oh, I want you to go, _monsieur_," said Jacqueline, clasping her hands +pleadingly. Her eyes were full of tears, which trickled down her +cheeks, and she turned her head away. "There is no reason why you +should remain, _monsieur_," she said. + +"Are you saying this of your free will, Jacqueline?" I cried. + +She nodded, and I saw Simon's evil face crease with suppressed mirth. + +I rose up. "Adieu, then, _madame_," I said. "But first permit me to +restore the money that I have been keeping for you." And I took out my +pocketbook. + +Simon stared at me incredulously. + +"I do not understand you in the least, now, M. Hewlett," he exclaimed. +"You are to keep the money. I do not go back upon my bargains." + +"It is not, however, your money," I retorted, though I knew that it +soon would be. "I shall return it to Mme. d'Epernay, who entrusted me +with it. Beyond that I care nothing as to its ultimate destination, +though perhaps I can guess. Naturally I do not carry eight thousand +dollars about with me----" + +"Ten thousand!" shouted Simon. + +"Mme. d'Epernay gave me eight thousand," I said. "I do not know +anything about ten thousand. Probably Mr. Daly has the rest. But, as +I was saying, I shall give you a check----" + +Leroux burst into loud laughter and slapped me heartily upon the +shoulder. + +"Paul Hewlett," he said, with genuine admiration, "you are as good as a +play. My friend, it would have paid you to have accepted my own offer. +However, you declined it and I shall not renew it. Well, let us take +your check, and it shall be accepted in full settlement." He winked at +me and thrust his tongue into his cheek. + +I was too sick at heart to pay attention to his buffoonery. I sat down +at the table and, taking up a pen which lay there, wrote a check for +eight thousand dollars, making it out to Jacqueline d'Epernay. This I +handed to her. + +"_Adieu, madame_," I said. + +"_Adieu, monsieur_," she answered almost inaudibly, her head bent low. + +I went out of the room, still gripping my pistol, and I took care to +let Simon see it as we descended the stairs side by side. The noisy +laughter in the ballroom had ceased, but I heard Raoul and Jean +Petitjean quarrelling, and their thick voices told me that they were in +no condition to aid their master. + +Then there were only Leroux and Philippe Lacroix to deal with. I could +have saved the situation. + +What a fool I had been! What an irresolute fool! I never learned. + +As we reached the bottom of the stairs Philippe Lacroix came out of the +ballroom carrying a candle. I saw his melancholy, pale face twist with +surprise as he perceived me. + +"Philippe, this is M. Paul Hewlett," said Leroux. "To-morrow you will +convey him to the cabin of Pere Antoine, where he will be able to make +his own plans. You will go by way of _le Vieil Ange_." + +Lacroix started violently, muttered something, and passed up the +stairs, often turning to stare, as I surmised from the brief occasions +of his footsteps. + +"Now, M. Hewlett, I shall show you your sleeping-quarters for +to-night," Leroux continued to me, and conducted me out into the fenced +yard. A number of Eskimo-dogs were lying there, and one of them came +bounding up to me and began to sniff at my clothes, betraying every +sign of recognition. + +This I knew to be the beast that I had taken to the home. How it had +managed to make its escape I could not imagine; but it had evidently +come northward with hardly a pause; and not only that, but had +accompanied us on our journey from St. Boniface at a distance, like the +half-wild creature that it was. + +Two sleighs were standing before the huts. Leroux led me past them and +knocked at the door of the largest cabin. + +"Pierre Caribou!" he shouted. + +He was facing the door and did not see what I saw at the little window +on the other side. I saw the face of the old Indian, distorted with a +grimace of fury as he eyed Leroux. + +Next moment he stood cringing before him, his features a mask. Looking +in, I saw a huge stove which nearly filled the interior, and seated +beside it the middle-aged squaw. + +"This gentleman will sleep here to-night," said Leroux curtly. "In the +morning at sunrise harness a sleigh for him and M. Lacroix. Adieu, M. +Hewlett," he continued, turning to me. "And be sure your check will +never be presented." + +There was something so sinister in his manner that again I felt that +thrill of fear which he seemed able to inspire in me. + +He was less human than any man I had known. He impressed me always as +the incarnation of resolute evil. That was his strength--he was both +bad and resolute. If bad men were in general brave, evil would rule +the world as he ruled his. He swung upon his heel and left me. + +I went in with Pierre Caribou, and the squaw glided out of the cabin. +There were two couches of the kind they used to call ottomans inside, +which had evidently once formed part of the _chateau_ furnishings for +their faded splendour accorded little with the decrepit interior of the +hut. + +I looked at my watch. I had thought it must be midnight, and it was +only eight. Within three hours I had won Jacqueline and lost her +forever. With Leroux in my power, I had yielded and gone away. + +And on the morrow I should arrive at Pere Antoine's hut just when he +expected me. + +Surely the mockery of fate could go no further! + +I sank down on one of the divans and buried my face in my hands, while +Pierre Caribou busied himself preparing food over the stove. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +TEE OLD ANGEL + +Presently the Indian touched me on the shoulder and I looked up. He +had a plateful of steaming stew in his hands, and set it down beside me. + +"Eat!" he said in English. + +I was too dispirited and dejected to obey him at first. But soon I +managed to fall to, and I was surprised to discover how ravenous I was. +I had eaten hardly anything for days, and only a few mouthfuls since +morning. + +As I was eating there came a scratching at the door, and the Eskimo-dog +pushed its way into the cabin and came bounding to my side. I stroked +and petted it, and gave it the remnants of my meal, while Pierre +watched us. + +"You know him dog?" he asked. + +"I saw it in New York," I answered. "It brought me to Mlle. +Jacqueline." + +My mind was very much alert just then. It was as though some hidden +monitor within me had taken control to guide me through a maze of +unknown dangers. It was that inner prompting which had forbidden me to +say "Mme. d'Epernay." + +I had a consciousness of some impending horror. And I was shaking and +all a sweat--with fear, too--gripping fear! + +Yet the old name sounded as sweet as ever to my lips. + +The Indian drew the stool near me and sat down. "You meet Mlle. +Jacqueline in New York?" he asked. + +"I brought her back," I answered. + +"I know," the Indian answered. "I meet Simon; drive him from St. +Boniface to _chateau_. He want shoot you. I say no, you blind man, +him leave you die in snow. I take Ma'm'selle Jacqueline to St. +Boniface when she run 'way. Simon not here then or I be 'fraid. Simon +bad man. He give my gal to Jean Petitjean. My gal good gal till Simon +give her to Jean Petitjean. Simon bad man. Me kill him one day." + +I saw a glimmer of hope now, though of what I hardly knew; or perhaps +it was only the desire to talk of Jacqueline and hear her name upon my +lips and Pierre's. + +"Pierre Caribou," I said, "wouldn't you like to have the old days back +when M. Duchaine was master and there was no Simon Leroux?" + +He did not answer me, but I saw his face-muscles twitch. Then he +pulled a pipe from his pocket and stuffed it with a handful of coarse +tobacco. He handed it to me and struck a match and held it to the bowl. + +When the tobacco was alight he took another pipe and began smoking also. + +I had not smoked for days, and I inhaled the rank tobacco-fumes through +the old pipe gratefully. I was smoking, with an Indian, and that meant +what it has always meant. A black cloud seemed to have been lifted +from my mind. And I was not trembling any more. + +But how warily I was reaching out toward my companion. + +"Pierre, I came here to save Mlle. Jacqueline," I said. + +"No can save him," he answered. "No can fight against Simon." + +"What, in the devil's name, is his power, then?" I cried. + +"_Le diable_," he replied. He may have misunderstood me, but the +answer was apt. "No use fight him," he said. "All finish now. Old +times, him finish, and my gal, too. Soon Pierre Caribou, him finish. +No can fight Simon. Perhaps old Pierre kill him, nobody else." He +looked steadily at me. "I poison him dogs," he added. + +"What?" I exclaimed. + +"Simon, him tell me long ago nobody come to _chateau_. So you finish, +too, maybe. What he tell you, you go?" + +"Lacroix is going to take me to Pere Antoine's cabin to-morrow +morning," I answered. + +The Indian grunted. "Simon no mean to let you go," he said. "He mean +kill you. You know too much. Sometime he kill me, too, or I kill him. +Once I live in old _chateau_ at St. Boniface with old M'sieur Duchaine. +Good days then, not like how. Hunt plenty game. Fine people come from +Quebec, not like Simon. M'sieur Charles small boy then. All finish +now." + +"Pierre," I said, taking him by the arm, "what is the Old Angel--_le +Vieil Ange_?" + +He stared stolidly at me. + +"Why you ask that?" he said. + +"Because Lacroix has been instructed to take me by that route," I +answered. + +Pierre said not a word, but smoked in silence. I sat upon the couch +waiting. His face was quite impassive, but I knew that my question was +of tremendous import to me. + +At last he shook the ashes out of his pipe and rose. "Come with me," +he said. "I show you--because you frien' of Ma'm'selle Jacqueline. +Come." + +I followed him out of the hut. A large moon was just rising out of the +east, but it was not yet high enough to cast much light. + +Still Pierre seemed in deadly terror of Simon, for he motioned me to +creep, as he was creeping, out of the enclosure, bending low beside the +fence, so that a watcher from the _chateau_ might not detect our +silhouettes against the snow-covered lake. + +When we were clear of the _chateau_, or, rather, the lit portion of it, +Pierre began to run swiftly, still in a crouching position, and in this +way we gained the tunnel entrance. + +He took me by the arm, for it was too dark for me to follow him by +sight, and we traversed, perhaps, a mile of outer blackness. Then I +began to see a gleam of moonlight in front of me, and, though I had not +been conscious of making any turn, I discovered that we must have +retraced our course completely, for I heard the roar of the cataracts +again. + +Then we emerged upon a tiny shelf of rock some forty feet up the face +of the wall, and quite invisible from below. It was a little above the +level of the _chateau_ roof, about a hundred yards away. Below me I +could see the main entrance to the tunnel. + +We had a foothold of about ten feet on the level platform, which was +slippery with smooth, black ice, and thundering over us, so near that I +could almost have touched it had I stretched out my hand, the whirling +torrent plunged into that hell below. + +It was a terrific scene. Above us that stream of white water, +resembling nothing so much as a high-pressure jet from a fireman's hose +magnified a thousand times, curved like a crystal arch, and so compact +by reason of its force that not a drop splashed us. It was as strong +as a steel girder, and I think it would have cut steel. + +Pierre caught my arm as I reeled, sick with the shock of the discovery, +and yelled into my ear above the dim. + +"_Le Vieil Ange_!" he cried. "This way Simon mean you to go to-morrow. +Lacroix him tell you: 'Get down, we find the road.' He take you up +here and push you--so." + +He made a graphic gesture with his arm and pointed. I looked down, +shuddering, into the black, foam-crested water, bubbling and whirling +among the grotesque ice-pillars that stood like sentries upon the brink. + +The horror of the plot quite unmanned me. I groped for the shelter of +the tunnel, and clung to the rocky wall to save myself from obeying a +wild impulse to cast myself headlong into the flood below. + +I perceived now that the whole face of the wall was honeycombed with +tunnels of natural formation running into the recesses of the +limestone. I wondered that the whole structure, undermined thus and +pressed down by the weight of millions of tons of ice above where the +glacier lay, did not collapse and crumble down in ruin. + +Rivulets gushed from the wall everywhere, mingling their contributory +waters with those of the twin torrents. The plateau seemed to be the +watershed in which the drainage of the entire territory had its origin. +Within those connecting caves, if a man knew their secret, he might +hide from a regiment. + +Pierre followed me to the mouth of the tunnel and gripped me by both +arms. + +"What you do?" he asked. "You go to Pere Antoine to-night? What you +do now?" + +I took the pistol from my coat pocket. + +"Pierre," I answered, "I have two bullets here, and both of them are +for Simon. To-night I had him in my power and spared him. Now I am +going back, and I shall shoot him down like a dog, whether he is armed +or defenceless." + +"You no shoot Simon," the Indian grunted. "_Le diable_ him frien'. +You had him to-night; why you no shoot him then?" + +I did not know. But I was going to find out soon. + +"I am going back to kill him now," I repeated. "Afterward I do not +know what will happen. But you can go on to the hut of Pere Antoine +and, if luck is with me, I shall meet you, there--perhaps with Mlle. +Jacqueline." + +But I had little hope of meeting him with Jacqueline. Only I could not +forbear to speak her name again. + +Pierre's face was twitching. "You no go back!" he cried. "Simon he +kill you. No use to fight Simon. Him time not come yet. When him +time come, he die." + +"When will it come?" I asked, looking at the man's features, which were +distorted with frenzied hate. + +"I not know!" exclaimed Pierre. "I try find--cards to tell me. No +Indian man in this part country remember how to tell me. In old days +many could tell. Now I wait. When his time come, old Indian know. He +kill Simon then himself. Nobody else kill Simon. No use you try." + +I own that, standing there and thinking upon the man's hellish design, +his unscrupulousness, his singular success, I felt the old fear of +Leroux in my heart, and with it something of the same superstition of +his invulnerability. But my resolution surpassed my fear, and I knew +it would not fail me. How often had I resolved--and forgotten. Not +again would I forget. + +I shook the Indian's hands away and plunged forward into the tunnel +again. I heard him calling after me; but I think he saw that I was not +to be deterred, for he made no attempt to follow me. + +And so I went on and on through the darkness, and with each step toward +the _chateau_ my resolution grew. + +I seemed to have been travelling for a much longer period than before. +Every moment, straining my eyes, I expected to see the light of the +entrance, but the road went on straight apparently, and there was +nothing but the darkness. + +At last I stood still; and then, just as I was thinking of retracing my +steps, I felt a breath of air upon my forehead. + +I hurried on again, and in another minute I saw a faint light in front +of me. Presently it grew more distinct. I was approaching the +tunnel's mouth. But I stopped again. I was waiting for something--to +hear something that I did not hear. Then I knew that it was the sound +of the waterfalls. In place of them there was only the gurgling of a +brook. + +My elbow grated against the tunnel wall. I stepped sidewise toward the +centre, and ran against the wall opposite. Now, by the stronger light, +I could see that I had strayed once again into some byway, for the +passage was hardly three feet wide and the low roof almost touched my +head. + +It narrowed and grew lower still; but the light of the stars was clear +in front of me and the cold wind blew upon my face; and I squeezed +through into the same scooped-out hollow which I had entered on the +same afternoon during the course of my journey toward the _chateau_. + +I had approached it apparently through a mere fissure in the rocks upon +the opposite side and at a point where I had assured myself that there +could be no passage. The little river gurgled at my feet, and in front +of me I saw a candle flickering in the recesses of a cave, so elfinlike +that I could distinguish it only by shielding my eyes against the moon +and stars. + +I grasped my pistol tightly and crept noiselessly forward. If this +should be Leroux, as I was convinced it was, I would not parley with +him. I would shoot him down in his tracks. + +My moccasined feet pressed the soft ground without the slightest sound. +I gained the entrance to the cave. Within it, his back toward me, a +man was stooping down. + +As I stepped nearer him my feet dislodged a pebble, which rolled with a +splash into the bed of the stream. + +The man started and spun around, and I saw before me the pale, +melancholy features of Philippe Lacroix. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +LOUIS D'EPERNAY + +He uttered an oath and took two steps backward, but I saw that he was +unarmed and that he realized his helplessness. He flung his hands +above his head and stood facing me, surprise and terror twisting his +features into a grimacing grin. + +There was no man, next to Leroux, whom I would rather have seen. + +"I wanted to see you, M. Hewlett," he babbled. + +"I can quite believe that, M. Lacroix," I answered. "You have looked +for me before. But this time you have found me." + +"I have something of importance to say to you, _monsieur_," he began +again. + +"I can believe that, too," I answered. "It is about _le Vieil Ange_, +is it not?" + +"By God, I did not mean--I swear to you, _monsieur_--listen, +_monsieur_, one moment only," he stammered. "Lower your pistol. You +see that I am unarmed!" + +I lowered it. "Well, say what you have to say," I said to him. + +"Leroux is a devil!" he burst out, with no pretended passion. "I want +you to help me, M. Hewlett, and I can help you in a way you do not +dream of. I am not one of his kind, to take his orders. Why in Quebec +he would be like the dirt beneath my feet. He has a hold over me; he +tempted me to gamble in one of his houses, and I--well, he has a hold +over me. But he shall not drive me into murder. M. Hewlett, how much +do you think this seigniory is worth?" + +"I am not a financier," I answered. "Some half a million dollars, +perhaps." + +He came close to me and hissed into my ear: "_Monsieur_, there is more +gold in these rocks than anywhere in the world! Look here! Here!" + +He stooped down and began tossing pebbles at my feet. But they were +pebbles of pure gold, and each one of them was as large as the first +joint of my thumb. And I had misjudged his courage, I think, for it +was avarice and not fear that made him tremble. + +So that was Lacroix's master-passion! I had always associated it with +decrepit old age, as in the case of Charles Duchaine. + +I looked into the cave. Lacroix was bending over a great heap of +sacks, piled almost to the roof. They were sacks of earth, but the +earth was naked with gold, and I saw nuggets glittering in it. + +"It is everywhere, _monsieur_!" cried Lacroix. "In this stream, in +these hills, too. You can gather a mortarful of earth anywhere, and it +will show colour when it is washed. We found this place together----" + +"You and Leroux?" + +"No! I and----" + +He broke off suddenly and eyed me with furtive cunning. + +"Yes, yes, _monsieur_, Leroux and I. And we two worked here together, +with nothing more than picks and shovels and mortars and pestles, +Leroux and I. There was nobody else. We slept here when Duchaine +thought we were in Quebec. For days and days we washed and dug, and we +have hardly scratched the surface. Monsieur, it is the Mother Lode, it +is the world's treasure-house! There are millions upon millions here!" + +I understood now why the provisions had been stored there. And I had +passed by and never known that there was an ounce of gold! But---- + +"There are three blankets here," I said. + +"Yes, yes, _monsieur_!" cried Lacroix eagerly. "I suffer much from +cold. Two of them are mine, and Leroux has only one. It is the +richest gold deposit in the world, M. Hewlett, and neither Raoul nor +Jean Petitjean knows the secret--only Leroux and I. One cannot light +upon this place save by a miracle of chance, such as brought you here. +God put this treasure in these hills, and He did not mean it to be +found." + +I grasped him by the shoulder. "Do you see what this means?" I shouted. + +"It means a glorious life!" he cried. "All the wealth in the world----" + +"No, it means _death_!" I answered. "It means that if Leroux succeeds +in killing me, he will kill you, too! Don't you see that we must stand +together? Do you suppose that he will share his hoard with you?" + +"No, M. Hewlett," answered Lacroix quietly. "And that is precisely +what I wanted to say to you. You are not a hog like Leroux; I can +trust you. And then you are a gentleman, and we gentlemen trust each +other. I will give you a share in the gold, and you will get +_mademoiselle_. She has no love for Louis. She left him half an hour +after the marriage had been performed. Leroux witnessed the ceremony, +and he hurried away with Pere Antoine, and then she ran away. She +loves you! And Louis will not trouble you!" + +"Faugh!" I muttered. "I don't want to hear your views on--on Mlle. +Jacqueline, my friend. But it seems to me that our interests are +mutual, and, as it happens, I was on my way back to have it out with +Leroux when I stumbled upon this place." + +"But I can show you the way," he exclaimed. "Come with me, _monsieur_. +I don't know how you got into the wrong passage, but it is +simple--straight ahead. Come with me! I will precede you." + +I followed him into the darkness, and very soon heard the sound of the +cataract again. And then once more I was standing at the tunnel +entrance, under a brilliant moon, and the _chateau_ was before me. + +It was all dark now, except for a glimmer of light that came from two +windows on the far side, visible indirectly as a reflection from the +snowy steeps beyond. That must be Duchaine's room. + +Leroux's I did not know, of course, but I surmised that it was one of +those on the same story, which I had passed while making my previous +tour of discovery. But this ignorance did not cause me much concern. +I knew that, once we were face to face together, I should gain the +victory over him. + +And I would be merciless and not falter. + +And Jacqueline! If I won, should I not keep her? She was mine, even +against her will, by every rule of war. And this was a world of war, +where beauty went to the strong, and all rules but that were scratched +from the book of life. + +I would not even tread softly now, nor slink within the shadows. Nor +did I fear Lacroix, although he had fallen out of sight behind me. + +I strode steadily across the snow and opened the door in the dark wing, +entered the hall and ascended the stairway, took the turn to the right +and passed through the little hall. As I had guessed, the light came +from Duchaine's room. + +I heard Leroux's harsh voice within; and if I stopped outside it was +not in indecision, but because I meant to make sure of my man this time. + +Through the crack of the door I saw old Charles Duchaine nodding over +his wheel. Leroux was standing near him, and in a corner, beside the +window, was Jacqueline. She was facing our common enemy as valiantly +as she had done before. And he was still tormenting her. + +"I want you, Jacqueline," I heard him say, in a voice which betrayed no +throb of passion. "And I am going to have you. I always have my way, +I am not like that weak fool, Hewlett." + +"It was I sent him away, not you," she cried. "Do you think he was +afraid of you?" + +Leroux looked at her in admiration. + +"You are a splendid woman, Jacqueline," he said. "I like the way you +defy me. But you are quite at my mercy. And you are going to yield! +You will yield your will to mine----" + +"Never!" she cried. "I will fling myself into the lake before that +shall happen. Ah, _monsieur_"--her voice took on a pleading tone--"why +will you not take all we have and let us go? We are two helpless +people; we shall never betray your secrets. Why must you have me too?" + +"Because I love you, Jacqueline," he cried, and now I heard an +undertone of passion which I had not suspected in the man. "I am not a +scoundrel, Jacqueline. Life is a hard game, and I have played it hard. +And I have loved you for a long time, but I would not tell you until I +had the right as well as the power--but now my love is my law, and I +will conquer you!" + +He caught her in his arms. She uttered a little, gasping cry, and +struggled wildly and ineffectually in his grasp. + +I was quite cold, for I knew that was to be the last of his villainies. +I entered the room and walked up to the table, my pistol raised, aiming +at his heart, and I felt my own heart beat steadily, and the will to +kill rise dominant above every hesitation. + +Leroux spun round. He saw me, and he smiled his sour smile. He did +not flinch, although he must have seen that my hand was as steady as a +rock. I could not withhold a certain admiration for the man, but this +did not weaken me. + +"What, you again, _monsieur_?" he asked mockingly. "You have come +back? You are always coming back, aren't you?" + +The truth of the diagnosis struck home to me. Yes, I was always coming +back. But this time I had come back to stay. + +"Can I do anything further for you, M. Hewlett?" he asked. "Was not +your bed comfortable? Do you want something, or is it only habit that +has brought you back here where nobody wants you?" + +"I have come back to kill you, Leroux," I answered, and pulled the +trigger six times. + +And each time I heard nothing but the click of the hammer. + +Then, with his bull's bellow, Simon was upon me, dashing his fists into +my face, and bearing me down. My puny struggles were as ineffective as +though I had been fighting ten men. He had me on the floor and was +kneeling on my chest, and in a trice the other ruffians had come +dashing along the hall. + +Jacqueline was beating with her little fists upon Leroux's broad back, +but he did not even feel the blows. I heard old Charles Duchaine's +piping cries of fear, and then somebody held me by the throat, and I +was swimming in black water. + +"Bring a rope, Raoul!" I heard Simon call. + +Half conscious, I knew that I was being tied. I felt the rope tighten +upon my wrists and limbs; presently I opened my aching eyes to find +myself trussed like a chicken to two legs of the table. I think it was +Jean Petitjean who said something about shooting me, and was knocked +down for it. Leroux was yelling like a demoniac. I saw Jacqueline's +terrified face and the trembling old man; and presently Leroux was +standing over me again, perfectly calm. + +He had taken the pistol from my coat pocket and placed it on the table, +and now he took it in his hand and held it under my eyes. The magazine +was empty. + +"Ah, Paul Hewlett, you are a very poor conspirator, indeed," he said, +"to try to shoot a man without anything in your pistol. Do you +remember how affectionately I put my arm round you when you were +sitting in that chair writing your ridiculous check? It was then that +I took the liberty of extracting the two cartridges. But I did think +you would have had sense to examine your pistol and reload before you +returned." + +Jacqueline was clinging to him. "Monsieur," she panted, "you will +spare his life? You will unfasten him and let him go?" + +"But he keeps coming back," protested Leroux, wringing his hands in +mock dismay. + +"Spare him, _monsieur_, and God will bless you! You cannot kill him in +cold blood," she cried. + +"We will talk about that presently, my dear," he answered. "Go and sit +down like a good child. I have something more to ask this gentleman +before I make my decision." + +He picked up a scrap of newspaper from the table and held it before my +eyes, deliberately turning up the oil-lamp wick that I might read it. +I recognized it at once. It was the clipping from the newspaper, +descriptive of the murdered man, which I had cut out in the train and +placed in my pocketbook. + +"You dropped this, my friend, when you pulled out your check-book," +said Simon. "You are a very poor conspirator, Paul Hewlett. Assuredly +I would not have you on my side at any price. Well?" + +"Well?" I repeated mechanically. + +"Who killed him?" he shouted. + +He shook the paper before my eyes and then he struck me across the face +with it. + +"Who killed Louis d'Epernay?" he yelled, and Jacqueline screamed in +fear. + +"I did," I answered after a moment. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE LITTLE DAGGER + +Leroux staggered back against the wall and stood there, scowling like a +devil. It was evident that my answer had been totally unexpected. I +had never seen him under the influence of any overwhelming emotion, and +I did not at the time understand the cause of his consternation. + +Jacqueline was clinging to her father, and the old man looked from one +to the other of us in bewilderment, and shook his white head and +mumbled. + +"Did you--know this, _madame_?" cried Leroux fiercely to Jacqueline. + +"Yes," she replied. + +"So this is why you pretended to have forgotten. You remembered +everything?" + +"Yes." + +"You lied to shield yourself?" + +"No, to shield him," she cried. "Because he was my only friend when I +was helpless in a strange city. You did not steal my money, did you, +Paul?" she added, turning swiftly upon me. "No, you have paid me. You +were keeping it for me." + +"You lie!" yelled Leroux, and he struck her across the mouth as he had +struck me. + +I writhed in my bonds. I pulled the heavy table after me as I tried +impotently to crawl toward him, sending the wheel flying and all the +papers whirling through the air. I cursed Leroux as blasphemously as +he was cursing Jacqueline. I saw a trickle of blood on her cut lip, +and the proud smile upon her face as she defied him. + +And at the door was the pale face of Philippe Lacroix. + +Leroux turned on me and kicked me savagely, and dragged the table to +the far end of the room, and struck me repeatedly, while I struggled +like a madman. The oaths and execrations that streamed from my lips +seemed to be uttered by another man, for I heard them indifferently, or +rather something that was I, deep in the maze of my personality, heard +them--not that pitiful, puny, goaded thing that fought in its bonds +until it ceased, panting and exhausted. + +There followed a long silence, while Leroux strode furiously about the +room. At last he stopped; he seemed to have made up his mind. + +"I understand now," he said, nodding his head. "So you are the man who +took this woman to the Merrimac. And then to your home, and Louis +d'Epernay followed you there, and, naturally, you killed him. Well, it +is intelligible. You were not acting for Carson after all, but were +infatuated with this woman. Well--but----" He wheeled and turned to +Jacqueline. "I will marry you still!" + +She did not deign to answer him nor to wipe away the blood that +trickled down her chin. + +"Do you know why?" he bawled. + +She raised her eyes indifferently to his. I saw that, though her +spirit was unbroken, she was weary to death. + +"Because you become part heir of the seigniory by your husband's +death!" he shouted; and then he took Charles Duchaine by the arm and +began shaking him violently. + +"Listen, you old fool!" he cried. "Your son-in-law is dead--Louis +d'Epernay!" + +Charles Duchaine looked at Leroux in his mild way. He had put one arm +round his daughter, and he seemed to understand that Simon was +maltreating her, and to wish to defend her; but his wits were still +wandering, and I saw that he understood only a little of what was +passing. + +"Louis d'Epernay is dead!" cried Simon, shaking the old man again. + +"Well, well!" answered Duchaine, stroking his long beard with his free +hand. "So Louis is dead! Did you kill him, Simon?" + +"No, I didn't kill him," Simon sneered. "Wake up a little more, +Duchaine. Do you know what happens now he is dead?" + +"I expect you to get some more money, Simon," answered the old man with +an ingenuousness that made the reply more stinging than any intended +irony. + +Leroux burst into a mirthless laugh. + +"You are quite right, Duchaine," he answered. "And I am not going to +mince matters. I have a hold over you, and you will do my bidding. +You will assign your share to me as your son-in-law." + +I saw Jacqueline looking at me. I would not meet her gaze, but at last +her persistence compelled me. Then I saw her glance toward the wall. + +The two broadswords hung there, within arm's reach, above the broken +mirror. My heart leaped up at the thought of her valour. She had no +mind to yield! + +But I shook my head imperceptibly in answer, and looked down at my +bonds. + +"I don't want you to marry my daughter, Simon," said old Duchaine +mildly. "I saw you strike her in the face just now. No gentleman +would do that. Come, Simon, you know you are not a gentleman; you +ought not to think of such a thing. Jacqueline would not be happy with +you. What does she say?" + +"I don't care what she says," snarled Leroux. "I will take care of +that." + +I had been trying hard to devise some method of freeing myself. My +struggles had relaxed the ropes around my wrists sufficiently to allow +my hands two or three inches of movement, and I hoped, by hard work, to +loosen them sufficiently to enable me to get at least one hand free. + +Then I felt that something hard was pressing into my back, just within +reach of my right thumb and forefinger. My fur coat, which was still +round me, was twisted, so that the inside breast-pocket was behind me, +and I fancied that the hard object was something that I had placed in +this receptacle. + +I let my thumb and finger travel up and down it. It had the form of a +tiny knife, with a heavy, rounded handle. + +And suddenly I knew what it was. It was the knife with which Louis +d'Epernay had been killed! + +I must have put it in my breast-pocket at some time, intending to throw +it away, and it had slipped through a hole in the lining and gone down +as far as the next ridge of fur, where it had become wedged. + +I could just get my finger and thumb round the point of the blade. The +ropes scored deeply into my wrists as I worked at it, but I felt the +lining give, and presently I had worked the blade through and had the +knife out by the handle. + +But it was made for thrusting more than cutting, and I had to pick the +ropes to pieces, strand by strand. + +Jacqueline had been imperceptibly edging away from her father and +Leroux; she was now standing immediately beneath the rusty swords. And +outside the door I still perceived Lacroix, motionless. + +It flashed across my mind that he understood the girl's desperate ruse, +and that he was waiting for the issue. I picked furiously at the ropes +which bound my hands, and a long strand uncoiled and whipped back on my +wrist. + +Suddenly I heard old Charles Duchaine bring down his fist with a +vigorous thud upon the end of the table. + +"I'll see you in ---- first, Simon!" was his unexpected remark. + +"What?" cried Simon, taken completely aback. + +"No, Simon," continued the old man in his mild voice once more. "You +are not a gentleman you know, and you are not fit to marry Jacqueline." + +Leroux thrust his hard face into the old man's. + +"Duchaine, your wits are wandering," he answered. "Listen now! Have +you forgotten that the government is searching for you night and day? +It was a long time ago that you killed a soldier of the Canadian +forces, but not too long ago for the government to remember. It has a +long memory and a long arm, too, and at a word from me----" + +It was pitiful to see the change that came over Duchaine's face. He +shook with fear and stretched out his withered hands appealingly. + +"Simon, you wouldn't betray me after all these years of friendship?" he +cried. "_Mon Dieu_, I do not wish to hang!" + +"Keep calm, Charles, my friend," responded Simon glibly. "I am ready +to return friendship for friendship. Will you acknowledge me as your +son-in-law and heir?" + +"Yes," stammered the old man. "Take everything, Simon; only leave me +free." + +"Well, that is more reasonable," said Leroux, evidently mollified. "I +am not the man to go back on my friends. I shall give you a cash +return of ten thousand dollars. You have not forgotten the old times +in Quebec?" + +"No, Simon," muttered Duchaine, looking up hopefully at him. + +"If you had ten thousand dollars, Charles, you could make your fortune +in a week. They play high nowadays, and your system would sweep all +before it." + +"Yes, yes!" cried the dotard eagerly. "If only I had ten thousand +dollars I could make my fortune. But I am old now. My little daughter +has gone to New York to play for me. You did not know that, Simon, did +you?" he added, looking at him with a cunning leer. + +"She cannot play as well as you, Charles," said Leroux. "You have +played so long, you know; you have the system at your fingers' ends. +There is nobody who could stand up against you. Do you remember Louis +Street and the fine people who were your friends? How they will +welcome you! You could become a man of fashion again, in spite of your +long exile in these solitudes. Do you recollect the races, where +thousands can be won in a few minutes, when your horse romps home by a +neck? And the gaming-tables, where a thousand dollars is but a pinch +of dust, and the bright lights and the chink of money--and you winning +it all away? You can have horses and carriages again, and all houses +will be open to you, for your little error has long ago been forgotten. +And you are not an old man, Charles." + +"Yes, yes, Simon!" cried the old man, fascinated by the picture. "It +is worth it--by gracious, it is!" + +Jacqueline swung round on Leroux. I saw her fists clench and her +bruised lip quiver. + +"Never, Simon Leroux!" she said. "And, what is more, my father is not +competent to transfer his property, and I will fight you through every +court in the land." + +"I was coming to you, _madame_," sneered Simon. "I don't know much +about the courts in this part of the country, but you will marry me to +save the life of your lover." + +"No!" she answered, setting her teeth. + +He seized her by the wrists and dragged her across the floor to me. + +"Look at him!" he yelled. "Look into his face. Will you marry me if I +let him go free?" + +"No!" answered Jacqueline. + +"I swear to you that he shall be thrown from the top of the cataract +unless you give your consent within five minutes." + +"Never!" she answered firmly. + +"I will denounce your father!" + +"You can't frighten me with such stuff. I am not a weak old man!" + +"You will think differently after Charles Duchaine has been hanged in +Quebec jail," he sneered. + +His words received a wholly unexpected answer. The dotard leaped +forward, stooped down, and picked up the heavy roulette-wheel. + +He raised it aloft and staggered wildly toward Leroux. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE HIDDEN CHAMBER + +Simon turned just in time. The wheel went crashing to the floor and +bounded and rebounded out of the room and along the little hall. +Philippe jumped in terror from the place where he crouched. + +And then the last strand broke, and I was free to slip the cords from +my limbs. + +"You old fool!" screamed Leroux, catching Duchaine by the wrists. But +Charles Duchaine possessed the strength of a madman. He grasped Leroux +round the waist and clung to him, and would not be shaken off. + +"Kill him!" he screamed. "He is a spy! He has come to betray me to +the government!" + +What followed was the work of a moment. I saw Jacqueline pull down +both broadswords from the wall. She flung one down beside me just as I +was staggering to my feet. + +Leroux shook off the old man at last. He turned on me. I swung the +sword aloft and brought it down upon his skull. + +Heaven knows I struck to kill; but my wrist was feeble from the ropes, +and the blade fell flat. It drew no blood, but Leroux dropped like a +stricken ox upon the floor. + +"This way!" gasped the old man. + +He pulled at Jacqueline's arm, and half led and half dragged her +through the open door behind his chair, I following. Lacroix sprang +into the room, called, but whether to us or to the other ruffians I did +not know. Leroux sat up and looked about him, dazed and bewildered. + +Then I was in the little room with Jacqueline and Duchaine, and he +turned and bolted the door behind us. He seemed possessed of all the +strength and decision of youth again. + +When I stood there before the room had been as dark as pitch, but now a +flicker of light was at the far end. A voice cried: + +"_M'sieur_! _M'sieur_! I have not forgotten thee!" + +It was Pierre Caribou. I saw his figure silhouetted against the light +of the flaring candle which he held in his hand. + +Duchaine had placed one arm about his daughter's waist, and was urging +her along. But she stopped and looked back to me. I saw she held one +broadsword in her hand, as I held the other. + +"Come, _monsieur_!" she gasped. + +But I was too mad with the desire to make an end of Leroux to accompany +her. I wanted to go back. I tried to find the bolt of the door in the +gloom, but while my fingers were fumbling for it Jacqueline came +running back to me. + +"Quick, or we are lost!" she cried. + +"I am going back," I answered, still fumbling for the holt Duchaine had +drawn. + +"No! We are safe inside. It is a secret room. My father made it in +the first days of his sojourn here in case he was pursued, and none but +Pierre and he know the secret. Ah, come, _monsieur_--come!" + +She clung to me desperately, and there was an intensity of entreaty in +her voice. + +I hesitated. There was no sound in the room without, and I believed +that the two ruffianly followers were ignorant of what had happened, +and had not dared to return after being driven away. + +But I meant to kill Leroux, and still felt for the bolt. + +As I fumbled there the door splintered suddenly, and Jacqueline cried +out. Through the hole I saw the oil-lamp shining in the outer room. + +The door splintered again. All at once I realized that Leroux was +firing his revolver at the panels. It was fortunate that we both stood +at one side, where the latch was. + +Then I yielded reluctantly to Jacqueline's soft violence. I followed +her through the dark chamber, under an archway of stone, and through a +winding passage in the rock. Pierre's candle flickered before us, and +in another moment we had squeezed through a narrow opening into a +chamber in the cliff. + +On the ground were five or six large stones, and Pierre began to fit +them into the aperture through which we had passed. In a minute the +place was completely sealed, and we four stood and looked breathlessly +at one another within what might have been a cenotaph. + +Not the slightest sound came from without. + +We were standing in a stone chamber, apparently of natural formation, +but finished with rough masonry work. It was about the size of a large +room, and I could see that it was only a widening of the tunnel itself, +which continued through a narrow exit at the farther end, running on +into the unknown depths of the cliff. + +From the freshness of the air I inferred that it connected with the +surface at no distant place. + +The entrance through which we had come had been made by blasting at +some period, or widened in this way, and then cemented, for the stones +which Pierre had fitted into it exactly filled it, so that it was +barely distinguishable from where I stood, and I am certain that it +would have required a prolonged scrutiny on the part of searchers on +the outside to enable them to detect it. + +And even then only dynamite or blasting-powder could have forced a +path, and it would have been exceedingly difficult to handle such +materials within the tunnel without blocking the approach completely, +while leaving open the farther exit. + +The chamber seemed at one time to have been prepared for such a +contingency as had occurred, for there were wool rugs on the stone +floor, though they had rotted and partly disintegrated from the +dampness. + +There were a table and wooden chairs, also partially decayed. The +mouldering fringes of some rugs protruded from a bundle wrapped in +oil-paper. + +Pierre Caribou opened this and shook them out on the ground. Except +where their edges had been exposed, they were in good condition, and +were thick enough to lie upon without much discomfort. + +The interior of the cave was pleasantly warm, though moist. + +"M. Duchaine, he make this place in case gov'ment come take him," +explained Pierre as he placed the rugs on the floor. "No can find, no +can break down stone door. Other way Simon not know--only m'sieur and +me. Old Caribou he come that way; he see you tied and know it time to +come here. Soon time to kill Simon come as well." + +"When in Heaven's name _will_ it come?" I cried. + +"Come soon. His _diable_ tell me," answered Pierre Caribou. + +The chamber was as silent as the grave, except for the gurgling of a +spring of water somewhere and the occasional pattering fall of a drop +of moisture from the roof. And truly this might prove our grave, I +thought, and none would find our bones in this heart of the cliff +through all the ages that would come. + +The flight seemed to have exhausted the last flicker of vitality in the +old man, for he sank down upon the blankets in a somnolent condition. +I could readily understand how his perpetual fear of discovery, +intensified through many years of solitude, had grown to be an +obsession, and how Leroux's idle threats had stimulated his weakened +will to one last effort to escape. + +Jacqueline knelt by his side. She paid no attention to me, except that +once she asked for water. Pierre brought her some from the spring in a +tin cup, and when she raised her head I could see that her lip was +swollen from the blow of Leroux's fist. + +The old man's hands were moving restlessly. Jacqueline bent over him +and whispered, and he stirred and cried out petulantly. He missed his +roulette-wheel, his constant companion through those years, his coins, +and paper. In his way perhaps he was suffering the most of all. + +"I go now," Pierre announced. "To-morrow I come for you, take all +through tunnel. You stay here till I come; all sleep till morning." + +"I will go with you, Pierre," I said, still under my obsession. But he +laid his heavy hand upon my arm and pushed me away. + +"You no kill Simon," he answered. "Why you no kill him again when you +have sword? Only _diable_ can kill him. When time come _diable_ tell +old Caribou. You sleep now. I not work for you now. I go for take my +woman and gal safe through tunnel to place I know. When my woman and +gal safe I come back to _m'sieur_ and _ma'm'selle_." + +It was a brave and simple declaration of first principles, and none the +less affecting, because it came from the lips of a faithful, ignorant +old man. It was just such simple loyalty that natures like Leroux's +never knew, frustrating the most cunning plans based on self-interest. + +I realized the strength of Pierre's argument. His duty lay first +toward his kin; then he would place his life at his master's service. +But he would have to cover many miles before he returned. + +He went without a backward glance; but I saw his throat heave, and I +knew what the parting meant to him. The feudal loyalty of the past was +all his faith. + +I flung myself down on my blanket. I was utterly exhausted, and with +that dead weariness which precludes sleep. The candle was burning low +and was guttering down upon one side, and a pool of hardening grease +was spreading over the table-top. + +I walked over to the table and blew it out. We must husband it; the +darkness in the cave would become unbearable without a candle to light. + +I lay down again. The silence was loneliness itself, and not rendered +less lonely by the occasional cries of the old man and the drip, drip +of water. I could not see anything, and Jacqueline might have been a +woman of stone, for she made not the least movement. + +But I felt her presence; I seemed to feel her thoughts, to live in her. + +At last I spoke to her. + +"Jacqueline!" + +I heard her start, and knew that she had raised her head and was +looking after me. I crawled toward her, dragging my blanket after me. +I felt in the darkness for the place where I knew her hand must be and +took it in mine. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "you know I did not steal your money, don't you?" + +"Forgive me, _monsieur_," I heard her whisper. + +"Forgive _me_, Jacqueline, for I have brought heavy trouble upon you. +But with God's aid I am going to save you both--your father and +you--and take you away somewhere where all the past can be forgotten." + +She sighed heavily, and I felt a tear drop on my hand. + +"Jacqueline!" I cried. + +"Ah, M. Hewlett"--the weariness of her voice went to my heart--"it +might have been different--if----" + +"If what, Jacqueline?" + +"If there had not been the blood of a dead man between us," she moaned. +"If--you--had not--killed him!" + +Her words were a revelation to me, for I learned that she had +mercifully been spared the full remembrance of what had happened in the +Tenth Street apartment. She thought that it was I who had killed Louis +d'Epernay. + +And how could I deny this, when to do so would be to bring to her mind +the knowledge of her own dreadful guilt? + +The dotard stirred and muttered, and she whispered to him and soothed +him as though he were a child. Presently he began to breathe heavily, +as old men breathe in sleep. But Jacqueline crouched there in the same +motionless silence, and I knew that she was awake and suffering. + +And then my watch began hammering again, just as the alarm-clock had +hammered on that awful night in my apartment when I crouched outside +the door, not daring to go in. My mind was working against my will and +picturing a thousand possibilities. + +What was Leroux doing? He would act with his usual hammer force. All +depended on Pierre. + +The hours wore away, and we three lay there, two waiting and one +dreaming of the old days of youth, no doubt. I tried to light the +candle to see the time, but my shaking hand sent it flying across the +cave, and when I searched for my matches, I found that the box was +empty. + +It seemed an eternity since we had come there. It is one thing to wait +for dawn and quite another thing to wait where dawn will never come. + +It must be day. And still Pierre did not come. As I lay there, +listening for his returning footsteps, I heard Jacqueline breathe at +last. + +She was asleep from weariness after her long night's watch. Somehow +the thought that she had passed into the world of dreams comforted me. +For a brief time the dreadful accusation of murder had been lifted from +my head, and my numbed mind was free to follow my will and leave its +mad career of fancy. I could act now. + +Why should I not follow where Pierre had led? If Leroux had captured +him within his hut, as seemed only too likely, he would never return, +and we should wait in vain. And with each hour of waiting our chances +to escape grew less. + +I resolved to follow the exit for a little distance to see whither it +led, and if I could discover the light of day. + +So I took my sword and sallied out through the passage in the cliff. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +AT SWORDS' POINTS + +I entered the tunnel, sword in hand, keeping both arms stretched out to +feel my way. I resolved that I would always keep the left hand in +contact with the wall upon that side, so that, in case the tunnel +should divide, by reversing the process I could ensure my safe return. + +I had only proceeded a few steps when the air grew cold and sweet. And +before I had traversed two hundred yards I saw a dim light in the +distance. This was no candle light, but that of day. So I had endured +all those agonies of mind with the open air but a short distance away! + +As I advanced I fancied that I heard the soft pattering of feet behind +me. + +I halted and listened intently. I crouched against the wall and +waited. But I heard nothing now except the distant roaring of the +cataracts. How sweet they sounded now! + +I listened intently, leaning against the wall and facing backward, +holding my sword ready to meet any intruder. But there was no sound +from within, except the soughing which one hears in a tunnel; and +satisfied at last that I had been the victim of an over-wrought +imagination, I pursued my course. + +The light grew brighter, but very slowly, until all at once I saw what +seemed to be the gleam of an electric arc-light immediately ahead. It +dazzled and half blinded me. + +I started backward; and then the noble morning star disclosed herself, +swinging in the sky like a blazing jewel in a translucent sea. + +Before me was a projecting piece of rock, which had shut off the view, +and but for that warning star I must have gone to my death. For my +foot was slipping on ice--and I was clinging to the cliff-wall upon the +other side of the tiny platform, where I had stood with Pierre, and the +Old Angel thundered over me. + +And, instead of noon, as I had thought it to be, it was only dawn, and +the distant sky was banded with faint bars of yellow and gold, and the +fresh morning air was in my nostrils. + +I picked my way back, inch by inch, across the ice which coated the +rocky floor for a few yards within the tunnel, until I stood in safety +again. + +The full purport of this discovery now came to me, and it filled me +with frantic joy. For, since the cave connected with that platform +beneath the cataract, it was evident that by crossing the ledge, a +dangerous but not precarious feat, I should enter the main tunnel again +and come out eventually beyond the hills, even allowing for a +preliminary blunder into the wrong track. + +The greatest danger lay in the possibility of Leroux or his aids lying +in wait for me somewhere within the tunnel, and I had not much fear of +that, for I did not believe they suspected that our cave connected with +the main passage. It was more likely that they would wait in +Duchaine's room till hunger drove us out. + +So I started back to Jacqueline. But I had not gone six paces before I +heard a scream that still rings in my ears to-day, and a shadow sprang +out of the darkness and rushed at me. It was old Charles Duchaine. +His white hair streamed behind him; his face bore an expression of +indelible horror and rage, and in his hand he held the other sword. + +With a madman's proverbial cunning he had pretended to be asleep; then +he must have followed me stealthily as I made my journey of +exploration; and now, doubtless, he ascribed all his wrongs and +sufferings to me and meant to kill me. + +His fears had snapped the last frail link that bound him to the world +of sense. + +He struck at me, a great sweeping blow which would almost have cut me +in two. I had just time to parry it, and then he was upon me, raining +blows upon my out-stretched sword. He was no swordsman, but slashed +and hewed in frenzy, and the steel rang on steel, and the rust from the +blades filled my nostrils with its sting. + +But, though his attack was wild, the vigor of his blows almost beat +down my guard. At last a random blow of mine swept the weapon from his +feeble old hand and sent it whirling down the cataract into the lake +below. + +Then he was at my throat, and it was fortunate that there was firm rock +instead of slippery ice beneath us, or we should both have followed the +sword. + +He linked his arms around me and wrestled furiously, and his weight and +height so much surpassed my own that they compensated for his weakness. +We swayed backward and forward, and the star dipped and swung over us, +as though we stood upon the deck of a rolling ship. + +"Calm yourself, for Heaven's sake, _monsieur_!" I gasped as I gained a +momentary advantage over him. "Don't you know me? I am your friend. +I want to save you!" + +But he was at me again, trying to lock his hands about my throat; and, +even after I had controlled him and pinned his arms to his sides, he +fought like a fiend, and never ceased to yell. On either hand the +rocks and tunnel gave back his howls with hideous echoes that rolled +into the distance as though a hundred demons were at strife. + +"You shall not take me! I have done nothing! It was years ago! Let +me go! Let me go!" he screamed. + +I released him for a moment, hoping that his disordered brain would +calm enough for him to recognize me, and that, when he saw my motives +were peaceful, he would grow quiet. + +But suddenly, with a final howl, he sprang past me, Sweeping me against +the wall, and leaped out on the ledge. + +I held my breath. I expected to see him stagger to his death below. +But he stood motionless in the middle of the little platform and +stretched out his arms toward the raging torrent, as though in +invocation. Then he leaped across with the agility of a wild sheep and +rushed on into the tunnel beyond. + +I drew my breath thickly and leaned against the wall, overcome with +nausea. The physical shock of the struggle was, however, less +appalling than the thought of Jacqueline. + +I had no hope that the old man would ever return, or that his crazed +brain remembered the way home to the cave. He would wander on through +the tunnels, either to perish in them miserably, or to emerge at last +into the snow beyond and die there. + +Unless Leroux found him. + +I started back, keeping this time to the right side of the tunnel, +until I heard the gurgling of the brook. Then I heard Jacqueline's +footstep. + +"Who is it?" she called wildly. "M. Hewlett! My father!" + +I caught her as she swayed toward me. "He has gone, Jacqueline," I +said. "I went into the tunnel to try to find the way. He had been +feigning sleep, and he crept after me. I tried to stop him. He was so +frightened that I thought it best to let him go. He ran on into the +tunnel----" + +"We must find him," she said. + +"He will come back, Jacqueline." + +"He will never come back!" she answered. "He must have been planning +this and waiting for me to sleep. For years he brooded over his +danger, suspecting everybody, and the shock of last night unhinged his +mind. He may be hiding somewhere. We must search for him." + +"Let us go, then, Jacqueline," I answered. + +In fact, there seemed to be no use in remaining any longer. If Pierre +were on his way back, we ought to meet him in the tunnel; and if he had +been captured, delay spelled ruin. + +So I led her back into the tunnel on what was to be, I hoped, our final +journey. We reached the ledge. The star had faded now, and the whole +sky was bright with the red clouds of dawn. + +Very cautiously we picked our way across the platform, clinging to the +wall. It was a hideous journey over the slippery ice, beneath the +thunder of the cataract; and when at length we reached the tunnel on +the other side, I was shaking like a man with a palsy. + +But, thank God, that nightmare was past. And with renewed confidence I +went on through the darkness, with Jacqueline at my side, feeling my +way by the deeper depression in the ground along the centre of the +tubular passage. + +At length I saw daylight ahead of me--and there was no sound of the +torrents. + +Fortune had led us where I had wanted her to lead--into the open space +where the gold was. From there I knew that I could strike the passage +which led into the sleigh road under the hills. Half an hour's travel +ought to bring us to the rocking stone at the entrance, and safety. + +But I found that I had entered the mine from a third point, and that +some forty feet away from the place where I had emerged before. This +time we were inside the cave in which Leroux and Lacroix had piled the +sacks of earth. + +I was looking out beyond them toward the rivulet, and on my right hand +and on my left the tunnel stretched away, leading respectively toward +the _chateau_ and to the rocking stone at the entrance. + +I left Jacqueline in the cave for a few moments and went into the +smaller one near by, where I had seen the provisions on the preceding +day. I found a small box of hard biscuit, with which I stuffed the +pockets of my coat, and, happier still, a small revolver and some +cartridges, to which I helped myself liberally. + +Then I went back to Jacqueline. + +We must go on. Half an hour more should see us outside the tunnel +beyond the mountains. And this was the day on which Pere Antoine would +be expecting me. + +It seemed incredible that so much could have happened in +four-and-twenty hours. + +But there was no sign of Charles Duchaine. And I did not intend to +jeopardize our future for the sake of the crazed old man. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "let us go on. Perhaps your father is on his way +outside the tunnel." + +She shook her head. "We must find him first," she answered. + +"But that is impossible," I protested. "How can we go wandering among +these dark passages when we do not know where he has gone? You know he +is invaluable to Leroux, and he will come to no harm with him. If we +get free, we can return with aid and rescue him." + +"We cannot go without my father," she answered, shaking her head in +determination. + +"But----" + +"Oh, don't you see that we _must_ find him?" she cried wildly. "But +_you_ must go. You cannot be burdened with me. Give up your hopeless +mission to rescue us, _monsieur_, and save yourself!" + +At that my hopes, which had been so high, went crashing down. + +"Jacqueline," I said, "if we can find your father you will come with +me? Because it has occurred to me," I went on, "that if he had come +this way, his footprints would be in the mud beside the stream. It +would take an hour or two for them to fill up again. So, perhaps, he +did not come this far, but is hiding in some cave in the tunnel through +which we came. Will you wait for me here while I go back and search?" + +She nodded, and I went back into that interminable tunnel again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BAIT THAT LURED + +I went along the tunnel in the direction of _le Vieil Ange_. It was +broad day now, and the distance between the cataract and the open +ground where the gold had been mined was sufficiently short for the +whole length of the passage to be faintly visible. + +It was a reach of deep twilight, brightening into sunlight at either +end. + +I picked my way carefully, peering into the numerous small caves and +fissures in the wall on either hand. And I was about half-way through +when I saw a shadow running in front of me and making no sound. + +It was Duchaine. There could be no mistaking that tall, gaunt figure, +just visible against the distant day. + +He was running in his bare feet and, therefore, in complete silence, +and he leaped across the rocky floor as though he wore moccasins. + +I raced along the tunnel after him. But he seemed to be endowed with +the speed of a deer, for he kept his distance easily, and I would never +have caught him had he not stopped for an instant at the approach of +the ledge. + +There, just as he was poising himself to leap, I seized him by the arm. + +"M. Duchaine! M. Duchaine! Stop!" I implored him. "Don't you know +that I am your friend and only wish you well? I am your friend--your +daughter Jacqueline's friend. I want to save you!" + +He did not attempt violence, but gazed at me with hesitation and +pathetic doubt. + +"They want to catch me," he muttered. "They want to hang me. He has +got a gallows ready for me to swing on, because I killed a soldier in +the Fenian raids. But it wasn't I," he added with sudden cunning. "It +was my brother, who looks like me. He died long ago. Let me go, +_monsieur_. I am a poor, harmless old man. I shall not hurt anybody." + +I took his hand in mine. + +"M. Duchaine," I answered. "I wish you everything that is best in the +world. I am your friend; I want to save you, not to capture you. Come +back with me, _monsieur_, and I will take you away----" + +The wild look came into his eyes again. + +"No, no!" he screamed, trying to wrest himself from my grasp and +measuring the distance across the ledge with his eye. "I will not go +away. This is my home. I want to live here in peace. I want my +wheel! Monsieur, give me my wheel. I have perfected a system. +Listen!" He took me by the arm and spoke in that cunning madman's way: +"I will make your fortune if you will let me go free. You shall have +millions. We will go to Quebec together and play at the tables, as I +did when I was a young man. My system cannot fail!" + +"M. Duchaine," I pleaded, "won't you come back with me and let us talk +it over? Jacqueline is with me----" + +"No, no," he cried, laughing. "You can't catch me with such a trick as +that. My little daughter has gone to New York to make our fortunes at +M. Daly's gaming-house. She will be back soon, loaded down with gold." + +I saw an opening here. + +"She _has_ come back," I answered. "She is not fifty yards away." + +"With gold?" he inquired, looking at me doubtfully. + +"With gold," I answered, trying to allure his imagination as Leroux had +done. "She has rich gold, red gold, such as you will love. You can +take up the coins in your fingers and let the gold stream slip through +them. Come with me, _monsieur_." + +He hesitated and looked back into the darkness. + +"I am afraid!" he exclaimed. "Listen, _monsieur_! There is a man +hiding there--a man with a sword. He tried to capture me to-day. But +I was too clever for him." He laughed with senile glee and rubbed his +hands together. "I was too clever for him," he chuckled. "No, no, +_monsieur_, I do not know who you are, but I am not going into that +tunnel alone with you. Perhaps you have a gallows there." + +"Do you not want the gold, _monsieur_?" I cried in exasperation. "Do +you not want to see the gold that your daughter Jacqueline has brought +back from New York for you?" + +I grasped him by the arm and tried to lead him with me. My argument +had moved him; cupidity had banished for the moment the dreadful +picture of the gallows that he had conjured up. I thought I had won +him. + +But just as I started back into the tunnel, holding the arm of the old +man, who lingered reluctantly and yet began to yield, a pebble leaped +from the rocky platform and rebounded from the cliff. I cast a +backward glance, and there upon the opposite side I saw Leroux standing. + +There was something appalling in the man's presence there. I think it +was his unchanging and implacable pursuit that for the moment daunted +me. And this was symbolized in his fur coat, which he wore open in the +front exactly as he had worn it that day when we met in the New York +store, and as I had always seen him wear it. + +He stood bareheaded, and his massive, lined, hard, weather-beaten face +might have been a sneering gargoyle's, carved out of granite on some +cathedral wall. + +He stood half sheltered by the projecting ledge, and his aspect so +fascinated me that I forgot my resolution to shoot to kill. + +"_Bonjour_, M. Hewlett," he called across the chasm. "Don't be afraid +of me any more than I am afraid of you. Just wait a moment. I want to +talk business." + +"I have no business to talk with you," I answered. + +"But I did not say it was with you, _monsieur_," he answered in +sneering tones. "It is with our friend, Duchaine. _Hola_, Duchaine!" + +At the sound of Leroux's voice the old man straightened himself and +began muttering and looking from the one to the other of us undecidedly. + +In vain I tried to drag him within the tunnel. He shook himself free +from me and sprang out on the icy ledge, and he poised himself there, +turning his head from side to side as either of us spoke. And he +effectively prevented me from shooting Leroux. + +"Don't you know your best friends, Duchaine?" inquired Leroux; and the +white beard was tipped toward the other side of the ledge. + +"I don't know who my friends are, Simon," answered Duchaine, in his +mild, melancholy voice. "What do you want?" + +"Why, I want you, Charles, my old friend," replied Leroux in a voice +expressive of surprize. "You old fool, do you want to die? If you do, +go with that gentleman. He comes from Quebec on government business." + +But I could plead better than that. I knew the symbol in his +imagination. + +"M. Duchaine! Come with me!" I cried. "He has a gallows ready for you +back in that tunnel!" + +It was a pitiful scheme, and yet for the life of me I could think of no +other way to win him. And, as it happened, the word associated itself +in the listener's mind as much with the speaker as with the man spoken +of, for I saw Duchaine start violently and cling to the icy wall. + +"No, no!" he cried; "I won't go with either of you. I am a poor old +man. It was my brother who shot the soldier, and he is dead. Go away!" + +He burst into senile tears and cowered there, surely the most pitiful +spectacle that fate ever made of a man. The memories of the past +thronged around him like avenging demons. + +Suddenly I saw him turn his head and fix his eyes upon Leroux. He +craned his neck forward; and then, very slowly, he began to walk toward +his persecutor. I craned my neck. + +Leroux was holding out--the roulette wheel! + +"Come along, Charles, my friend," he cried. "Come, let us try our +fortunes! Don't you want to stake some money upon your system against +me?" + +The old figure leaped forward over the ledge, and in a moment Leroux +had grasped him and pulled him into the tunnel. + +I whipped my revolver out and sent shot after shot across the chasm. +The sound of the discharges echoed and re-echoed along the tunnel wall. + +But the projecting ledge of rock effectively screened Leroux--and +Duchaine as well, for in my passion I had been firing blindly, and but +for that I should undoubtedly have killed Jacqueline's father. + +The mocking laughter of Leroux came back to me in faint and far-away +reply. + +I saw the explanation of the man's presence now. He must have met +Duchaine that morning as the old man was flying or wandering aimlessly +along the tunnel. They had reached _le Vieil Ange_ together, and +Leroux had probably had little difficulty in inducing the witless old +man to take him back into the secret hiding-place. + +It was lucky that we had not been there when Leroux discovered it. We +must have crossed the ledge only a moment or two before them. + +I hastened back to Jacqueline, and encountered her in the passage just +where the light and darkness blended, standing with arms stretched out +against the wall to steady herself; and in her eyes was that look which +tells a man more surely than anything, I think, can, that a woman loves +him. + +"Oh, I thought you were dead!" she sobbed and fell into my arms. + +I held her tightly to support her, and I led her back to the gold cave. +In a few words I explained what had occurred. + +"Now, Jacqueline, you must let me guide you," I said. "Don't you see +that there is no chance for us unless we leave your father for the +present where he is and make our own escape? We can reach Pere +Antoine's cabin soon after midday, and we can tell him your father is a +prisoner here. He would not come with us, Jacqueline, even if he were +here. + +"And if he did, he might escape us on the way and wander back into the +tunnels again. Leroux has no cause to harm him. Surely you see that, +dear? He needs him--he needs his signature to the deed which is to +give him your father's share of the seigniory. Just as he wants you, +Jacqueline. And he shall never have you, dear. So I shall not let you +go back, or he would get you in the end. Unless----" + +I stopped. But she knew what I had thought. + +"Unless I kill myself," she answered wildly. "That is the best way +out, Paul! I am fated to bring nothing but evil upon every one with +whom I come in contact. Ah, leave me, Paul, and let me meet my fate, +and save yourself!" + +Again I pleaded, and she did not respond. It was the safety of us two, +and her father's life assured, against a miserable fate for her, and I +knew not what for me, though I thought Leroux would give me little +shrift once I was in his power again. + +She was so silent that I thought I had convinced her. I urged her to +her feet. But suddenly I heard a stealthy footfall close at hand, +between the cave and the cataract. + +I thought it was Charles Duchaine. I hoped it was Leroux. I placed my +finger on Jacqueline's lips and crept stealthily to the passage, +revolver in hand. + +Then, in the gloom, I saw the villainous face of Jean Petitjean looking +into mine, twelve paces away, and in his hand was a revolver, too. + +We fired together. But the surprize spoiled his aim, for his bullet +whistled past me. I think my shot struck him somewhere, for he uttered +a yell and began running back along the tunnel as hard as he could. + +I followed him, firing as fast as I could reload. But there was a +slight bend in the passage here, and my bullets only struck the walls. +So fortune helped the ruffian, for when I reached the light he was +scrambling across the ledge, and before I could cover him he had +succeeded in disappearing behind the projecting rock on the other side. + +So Leroux had already sealed one exit--that by the Old Angel, where the +road led into the main passage. God grant that he had not time to +reach the exit by the mine! + +If I made haste! If I made haste! But I would not argue the matter +any further. I ran back at full speed. I reached the cave. + +"Jacqueline! Come, come!" I called. + +She did not answer. + +I ran forward, peering round me in the obscurity. I saw her near the +earth-sacks, lying upon her side. Her eyes were closed, her face as +white as a dead woman's. + +White--but her dress was blood-soaked, and there was blood on the sacks +and on the stony floor. It oozed from her side, and her hand was cold +as the rocks, and there was no flutter at her wrist. + +The bullet from Jean Petitjean's revolver that missed me must have +penetrated her body. + +She lived, for her breast stirred, though so faintly that it seemed as +though all that remained of life were concentrated in the +faint-throbbing heart-beats. + +I raised her in my arms and placed a sack beneath her head, making a +resting-place for her with my fur coat. Then with my knife I cut away +her dress over the wound. + +There was a bullet-hole beneath her breast, stained with dark blood. I +ran down to the rivulet, risking an ambuscade, brought back cold water, +and washed it, and stanched the flow as best I could, making a bandage +and placing it above the wound. + +It was a poor effort at first aid, by one who had never seen a +bullet-wound before, and I was distracted with misery and grief, and +yet I remember how steady my hands were and with what precision and +care I performed my task. + +I have a dim remembrance of losing my self-control when this was done, +and clasping her in my arms and pressing my lips to her cold cheek and +begging her to live and praying wildly that she should not die. Then I +raised her in my arms and was staggering across the cave toward the +tunnel which led to the rocking stone. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +SURRENDER + +I saw the light, the sun's rays bright on the cliff tops. Once in the +tunnel beyond that I could keep my pursuers at bay with my revolver, +even if I had to fight every inch of my way to freedom. + +And then, just as I approached the barricade of earth-filled bags, +Leroux and the man Raoul emerged from the tunnel's mouth and ran toward +me. + +If I had been alone and unencumbered, I believe I could have spurted +across the open and won free. But with Jacqueline in my arms it was +impossible. + +I stopped behind the barricade. + +Even so I was fortunate, for had they gained the cave before I did they +would have had me at their mercy like a rat trapped in a hole. + +They saw me and drew back hastily within the tunnel's mouth. I was +panting with the weight of my unconscious burden, and I did not know +what to do. My mind was filled with rage against my fate, and I +shouted curses at them and strode up and down, behind the bags. + +Presently I saw something white fluttering from the tunnel. It was a +white handkerchief upon a stick of wood, and slowly and gingerly Raoul +emerged into the open. + +At that instant I fired. The bullet whipped past his face, and with an +oath he dropped the stick and handkerchief too, and scuttled back to +shelter. + +Then Leroux's voice hailed me from the tunnel. + +"Hewlett!" he called, and there was no trace of mockery in his tones +now, "will you come out and talk with me? Will you meet me in the +open, if you prefer?" + +I fired another shot in futile rage. It struck the cliff and sent a +stone flying into the stream. + +Then silence followed. And I took Jacqueline and carried her back into +the little hollow place. I put my hand upon her breast. + +It stirred. She breathed faintly, though she showed no sign of +consciousness. + +And then I acted as a trapped animal would act. I raged up and down +the tunnel from cataract to cave, and at each end I fired wildly, +though there was no sign of any guard. Why should their guards expose +themselves to fire at me when they had me at their mercy? + +They could surprize me from either end, and I suppose I thought by this +trick to maintain the illusion of having some companion. Heaven knows +what was in my mind. But now I stood beneath that awful cataract +firing at the blind rock, and now I was back behind the earth-bags +shooting into the tunnel. + +And again I was at Jacqueline's side, crouching over her, holding her +hand in mine, pressing my lips to hers, imploring her to live for my +sake, or, if she could not live, to open her eyes once more and speak +to me. + +So the afternoon wore away. The sun had sunk behind the cliffs. I had +fired away all but six of my cartridges. Then the memory of my similar +act of folly before came home to me. I grew more calm. + +I understood Leroux's intentions--he meant to surprize me in the night +when I was worn out, or when I made a blind dash in the dark for the +tunnel. + +I felt my way around the cave with the faint hope that there might be +some other egress there. + +There was none, but I made out a recess which I had not perceived, +about one-half as large as the cave itself, and opening into it by a +small passage just large enough to give admittance to a single person. +Here I should have only one front to defend. + +So I carried Jacqueline inside and began laboriously to drag the bags +of earth into this last refuge. Before it had grown quite dark I had +barricaded Jacqueline and myself within a place the size of a hall +bedroom enclosed upon three sides with rock. + +And there I waited for the end. + +What an eternity that was! + +I strained my ears to hear approaching steps. I beard the gurgle of +the stream and the slow drip of water from the rocks, but nothing more. +The star-light was just bright enough to prevent an absolute surprize. + +But I was utterly fatigued. My eyes alone, which bore the burden of +the defence, remained awake; the rest of me was dead, from heavy hands +to feet, and the body which I could hardly have dragged down to the +stream again. + +I waited for the end. I sat beside Jacqueline, holding her hand with +one of mine, and my revolver in the other. There was a faint flutter +at her wrist. I fancied that it had grown stronger during the past +half-hour. + +But I was unprepared to hear her whisper to me, and when she spoke I +was alert in a moment. + +"Paul!" she said faintly. + +"Jacqueline!" + +"Paul! Bend down. I want to speak to you. Do you know I have been +conscious for a long time, my dear? I have been thinking. Are you +distressed because of me?" + +"My dear!" I said; and that was all that I could say. I clasped her +cold little hand tightly in mine. + +"I don't know whether I shall live, Paul," she went on. "But now +things have become much clearer than they were. When you wanted to +take me through the tunnel I knew that you were wrong. I knew that +even if we found my father I must still send you away, my dear. God +does not mean for us to be for one another. Don't you see why? It is +because there is the blood of a dead man between us that cannot be +wiped away. + +"That is the cause of our misfortunes here, and they will never end, +even if you can beat Leroux--because of that. So it could never have +been. Yes, I knew that last night when I lay by you, and I was +thinking of it and praying hard that I might see clearly." + +Her voice broke off from weakness, and for a long time she lay there, +and I clasped her hand and waited, and my eyes searched the space +beyond the bags. How long would they delay? + +Presently Jacqueline spoke again. + +"Do you know, Paul, I don't think life is such a good thing as it used +to seem," she said. "I think that I could bear a great deal that I +would once have thought impossible. I think I could yield to Leroux +and be his wife to save your life, Paul." + +"No, Jacqueline." + +"Yes, Paul. If I live, my duty is with my father. He needs me, and he +would never leave the _chateau_ now that his fears have grown so +strong. And, though he might come to no harm, I cannot leave him. And +you must leave me, Paul, because--because of what is between us. You +must go to Leroux and tell him so. You love me, Paul?" + +"Always, Jacqueline," I whispered. + +She put her arms about my neck. + +"I love you, Paul," she said. "It seems so easy to say it in the dark, +and it used to be so hard. And I want to tell you something. I have +always remembered a good deal more than you believed. Only it was so +dear, that comradeship of ours, that I would not let myself remember +anything except that I had you. + +"And do you know what I admired and loved you for, even when you +thought my mind unstable and empty? How true you were! It was that, +dear. It was your honour, Paul. + +"That was why, when I remembered everything that dreadful night in the +snow, the revulsion was so terrible. I ran away in horror. I could +not believe that it was true--and yet I knew it was true. + +"And Leroux was waiting there and found me. I did not want to leave +you, but he told me there was Pere Antoine's cabin close by, and that +you would come to no harm. And he made me believe--you had stolen my +money as well. But I never believed that, and I only taunted you with +it to drive you away for your own sake." + +She drew me weakly toward her and went on: + +"Bend lower. Bend very near. Do you remember, Paul--in the train +going to Quebec--I lay awake all night and cried, at first for +happiness, to think you loved me, and then for shame, because I had no +right--though I did not remember who he was at the time, the shock had +been so great. That night--lying in my berth--I was shameless. I +slipped the wedding ring from my finger and hid it away so that you +should not know--because I loved you, Paul. And now that we are to +part forever, and perhaps I am to die, I can speak to you from my heart +and tell you, dear. Kiss me--as though I were your wife, Paul. + +"So you will go to Leroux?" she added presently. + +"Is that your will, Jacqueline?" + +"Yes, dear," she said. "Because we have fought and now we are beaten, +Paul." + +I bowed my head. I knew that she spoke the truth. Slowly the passions +cleared from my own heart--passion of hate, passion of love. I knew at +last that I was vanquished. For, now that Jacqueline lay there so +weak, so helpless, and thinking all our past was but a dream, there was +nothing but to yield. I could not fight any more. + +Even though, by some miracle, the tunnel lay clear before us, to move +her meant her death. So I would yield, to save her life, and with me +Leroux might deal as he chose. + +So I left her and climbed across the bags and went down toward the +stream. + +But before I had reached it a dark figure slipped from among the +shadows of the rocks and came toward me; and by the faint starlight I +saw the face of Pierre Caribou! + +I was bewildered, for Pierre seemed like one of those dream figures of +the past; he might have come into my life long ago, but not to-day, nor +yesterday. + +He stopped me and held me by both shoulders, and he drew me into the +recesses of the rocks and bent his wizened old face forward toward mine. + +"Ah, _monsieur_, so you did not obey old Pierre Caribou and stay in the +cave," he said. + +"Pierre, I did not know that you would return," I answered. "I thought +that we could find the same road that you had taken." + +"Never mind," the Indian answered, looking at me strangely. "All +finish now. _Diable_ take Leroux. His time come. _Diable_ show me!" + +"How?" I answered, startled. + +"All finish," said Pierre inexorably, and, as I watched him, a +superstitious fear crept over me. He, who had cringed, even when he +gave the command, now cringed no longer, and there was a look on his +old face that I had only seen on one man's before--on my father's, the +night he died. + +"Pierre, where is Leroux?" I whispered. + +"No matter," he answered. "All finish now." + +"Shall I surrender to him or shall I fight?" + +"No matter," he said once again. "_M'sieur_, suppose you go back to +ma'm'selle, and soon Simon come. His _diable_ lead him to you. His +_diable_ tell you what to say. All finish now!" + +He walked past me noiselessly, a tenuous shadow, and his bearing was as +proud as that of his race had been in the long ago, when they were +lords where their white masters ruled. He entered the passage at the +back of the mine, through which I had come when I encountered Lacroix +the first time with his gold. + +And as he passed I thought I saw Lacroix's face peering out at me +through the shadows of the caves. I started toward him. Then I saw +only the face of the cliff. My mind was playing me tricks; I thought +it had created that apparition out of my thoughts. + +I went back to Jacqueline and took my seat upon the earth-bag +barricade. I had my revolver in my hand, but it was not loaded. I +threw the cartridges upon the floor. + +It seemed only a few minutes before a voice hailed me from the tunnel. + +"M. Hewlett! Are you prepared to speak with M. Leroux?" + +It was Raoul's voice, and I answered yes. + +A moment later Leroux came from the tunnel toward me. I got down from +the barricade and met him at the stream. He stood upon one side and I +at the other, and the stream gurgled and played between us. + +"Paul Hewlett," said Leroux, "you have made a good fight. By God, you +have fought well! But you are done for. I offer you terms." + +"What terms?" I asked. + +"The same as before." + +"You planned to murder me," I answered, but with no bitterness. + +"Yes, that is true," answered Leroux. "But circumstances were +different then from what they are tonight. I am no murderer. I am a +man of business. And, within business limits, I keep my word. If I +proposed to break it, it was because I had no other way. Besides, you +had me in your power. Now you are in mine. + +"I thought then that you were in Carson's pay. That if I let you go +you would betray--certain things you might have discovered. But you +came here because you were infatuated with Mme. d'Epernay. Well, I can +afford to let you go; for, though my instincts cry out loudly for your +death, I am a business man, and I can suppress them when it has to be +done. In brief, M. Hewlett, you can go when you choose." + +"M. Leroux," I answered, "I will say something to you for your own +sake, and Mme. d'Epernay's, that I would not deign to say to any other +man. She is as pure as the best woman in the land. I found her +wandering in the street. I saved her from the assault of your hired +ruffians. I tried to procure a room for her at the Merrimac, and when +they refused her, I gave up my own apartment to her and went away." + +"But you went back!" he cried. "You went back, Hewlett!" + +"I can tell you no more," I answered. "Do you believe what I have said +to you?" + +He looked hard into my face. + +"Yes," he said simply. "And it makes all the difference in the world +to me." + +And at that moment, in spite of all, I felt something that was not far +from affection toward the man. + +"Pere Antoine will marry you?" I asked. + +"Yes," he replied. + +"And her father?" + +"Is safe in the _chateau_, playing with his wheel and amassing a +fortune in his dreams." + +"One word more," I continued. "Mme. d'Epernay is very ill. She was +struck by one of those bullets that you fired through the door. Wait!" +for he had started. "I think that she will live. The wound cannot +have pierced a vital part. But we must be very gentle in moving her. +You had better bring the sleigh here, and you and I will lift her into +it. And then--I shall not see her again." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +LEROUX'S DIABLE + +I went back toward the cave. But I could not bring myself to see +Jacqueline. + +Instead, I paced the tunnel to and fro, wondering what my life was +going to be in future. Less than three weeks before no thought of love +had stirred me, and Jacqueline was undreamed of. Now she had entered +into my heart and twined herself inextricably around its roots. + +That I should love her till I died I did not doubt at all. + +Her last words had been in the nature of a farewell. There was no more +to say. Not even good-bye. I must go before that old, insatiable +longing for her arose in me again. + +I saw her in my mind's eyes as clearly as though she stood before me. +Her loving, gracious presence, her sweet, pure face, her courage, her +tenderness--all these were for Leroux. Nothing remained for me, except +my memories. + +I should have to make a great deal of my life. I had always believed +that life was only a prelude to greater and finer things. I was not +sure; I am not sure to-day; but if the life that is to come is not the +realization of our unfulfilled desires, then nothing matters here. I +was thinking of that as I paced the tunnel. And in that way I felt +that, in a measure, Jacqueline was still mine. + +"Everything that is free," she had said to me, "thoughts, will and +dreams." That part was mine; and that could never be taken away. + +I had reached the verge of the cataract and stood beside the little +platform, looking down. There was no star now like that which had +guided me in the morning, but the sky was fair and the air mild. I +gazed in awe at the great stream of water, sending its ceaseless +current down into the troubled lake below. + +How many ages it had done that! Yet even that must end some day, as +everything ends--even life, thank God! + +And then I saw Lacroix again. I was sure of it now. He was peering +after me from among the rocks, and, as I turned, he was scuttling away +into the tunnel. + +I followed him. I had always mistrusted the man; more, even, than +Leroux. I felt that his furtive presence there portended something +more evil than my own fate and Jacqueline's must be. + +I followed him hotly; but he must have known every fissure in the +cliff, for he vanished before my eyes, apparently through the solid +rock, and when I reached the place of his disappearance I could find no +sign of any passage there. + +Well, there was no use in following him further. I paced the tunnel +restlessly. The sleigh ought to be at the mine in five minutes more. +I turned back to take a last look at the cataract. + +The sublime grandeur of those thousand tons of water, shot from the +glacier's edge above, still held me in its spell of awe. I cast my +eyes toward the _chateau_ and over the frozen lake toward the distant, +unknown mountains. + +Then I turned resolutely away. + +And at that moment I heard Leroux's voice hailing me, and looked round +to see him emerge from the tunnel at my side. He was staring in +bewilderment at the cataract. + +"Hewlett, I don't know what possessed me to take the wrong turn +to-night!" he cried. "I have come through that tunnel a hundred times +and never missed the path before." + +He swung round petulantly, and at that moment a shadow glided out of +the darkness and stood in front of him. It was Pierre Caribou, lean, +sinewy and old. He blocked the path and faced Leroux in silence. + +Leroux looked at him, and an oath broke from his lips as he read the +other's purpose upon his face. Squaring his mighty shoulders and +clenching his fists, he leaped at him headlong. + +Pierre stepped quietly aside, and Simon measured his full length within +the tunnel. But, when he had scrambled to his feet with a bellowing +challenge, Pierre was in front of him again. + +"What are you here for?" roared Leroux, but in a quavering voice that +did not sound like his own. "Get out of the way or I'll smash your +face!" + +The Indian still blocked the passage. "Your time come now, Simon. All +finish now," he answered. + +Simon drew back a pace and watched him, and I heard him breathing like +one who has run a race. + +"You come here one, two year ago," Pierre continued. "You eat up home +of M. Duchaine, my master. Old M. Duchaine my master, too. I belong +here. You eat up all, come back, eat up some more. Then you sell +Mlle. Jacqueline to Louis d'Epernay. You made her run 'way to New +York. I ask your _diable_ when your time come. Your _diable_ he say +wait. I wait. Mlle. Jacqueline come back. I ask your _diable_ again. +He say wait some more. Now your _diable_ tell me he send you here +to-night because your time come, and all finish now." + +The face that Simon turned on me was not in the least like his own. It +was that of a hopeless man who knows that everything he had prized is +lost. He had never cowered before anyone in his life, I think, but he +cowered now before Pierre Caribou. + +"Hewlett!" he cried in a high-pitched, quavering voice, "help me throw +this old fool out of the way." + +I spoke to Pierre. "Our quarrel is at an end," I said. "I am going +away. You must go, too." + +Pierre Caribou did not relax an inch of ground. + +Then a roar burst from Leroux's lips, and he flung himself upon the +Indian in the same desperate way as I had experienced, and in an +instant the two men were struggling at the edge of the platform. + +It was impossible for me to intervene, and I could only stand by and +stare in horror. And, as I stared, I saw the face of Lacroix among the +rocks again, peering out, with an evil smile upon his lips. + +Whether they fought in silence or whether in sound I do not know, for +the noise of the cataract rendered the battle a dumb pantomime. + +Pierre had pulled the Frenchman out to the middle of the ledge and was +trying to force him over. But Leroux was clinging with one hand to the +cliff and with the other he beat savagely upon his enemy's face, so +that the blood covered both of them. But Pierre did not seem to feel +the blows. + +Leroux, one-handed, was at a disadvantage. He grasped his antagonist +again, and the death-grapple began. + +It was a marvel that they could engage in so terrific a fight upon the +ice-coated ledge and hold their balance there. But I saw that they +were in equipoise, for they were bending all the tension of each muscle +to the fight, so that they remained almost motionless, and, thigh to +thigh, arm to arm, breast to breast, each sought to break the other's +strength. And I saw that, when one was broken, he would not yield +slowly, but, having spent the last of his strength, would collapse like +a crumpled cardboard figure and go down into the boiling lake. + +The cataract's half-sphere of crystal clearness framed them as though +they formed some dreadful picture. + +They bent and swayed, and now Leroux was forcing Pierre's head and +shoulders backward by the weight of his bull's body. But the Indian's +sinews, toughened by years of toil to steel, held fast; and just as +Leroux, confident of victory, shifted his feet and inclined forward, +Pierre changed his grasp and caught him by the throat. + +Leroux's face blackened and his eyes started out. His great chest +heaved, and he tore impotently at his enemy's strong fingers that were +shutting out air and light and consciousness. They rocked and swayed; +then, with a last convulsive effort, Leroux swung Pierre off his feet, +raised him high in the air, and tried to dash his body against the +projecting rock at the tunnel's mouth. + +But still the Indian's fingers held, and as his consciousness began to +fade Leroux staggered and slipped; and with a neighing whine that burst +from his constricted throat, a shriek that pierced the torrent's roar, +he slid down the cataract, Pierre locked in his arms. + +I cried out in horror, but leaned forward, fascinated by the dreadful +spectacle. I saw the bodies glide down the straight jet of water, as a +boy might slide down a column of steel, and plunge into the black +cauldron beneath, around whose edge stood the mocking and fantastic +figures of ice. The seething lake tossed them high into the air, and +the second cataract caught them and flung them back toward the Old +Angel. + +Their waters played with them and spun them round, caught them, and let +them go, and roared and foamed about them as they bobbed and danced +their devil's jig, waist-high, in one another's arms. + +At last they slid down into the depths of the dark lake, to lie forever +there in that embrace. And still the cataracts played on, sounding +their loud, triumphant, never-ending tune. + +I was running down the tunnel again. I was running to Jacqueline, but +something diverted me. It was the face of Lacroix, peering at me from +among the crevices of the rocks with the same evil smile. I knew from +the look on it that he had seen all and had been infinitely pleased +thereby. + +I caught at him; I wanted to get my hands on him and strangle him, too, +and fling him down, and stamp his features out of human semblance. But +he eluded me and darted back into the cliff. + +I followed him hard. This time I did not mean to let him go. + +Lacroix was running toward the gold-mine. He made no effort to dodge +into any of the unknown recesses of the caves, but ran at full speed +across the open space and plunged into the tunnel leading to the shore +by the _chateau_. + +I caught him near the entrance and held him fast. + +He struggled in my grasp and screamed. + +"Go back! For the love of God, go back, _monsieur_!" he shrieked. +"Let me go! Let me go!" + +He fought so desperately that he slipped out of my hands and darted +into the mine again, taking the tunnel which led toward the Old Angel, +and thence wound back toward the _chateau_. + +I caught him again before the cave where Jacqueline lay. I wound my +arms around him. A dreadful suspicion was creeping into my mind. + +He made no attempt to fight me, but only to escape, and his face was +hideously stamped with fear. + +"Let me go!" he howled. "Ah, you will repent it! _Monsieur_, let me +go! I will give you a half-share in the gold. What do you want with +me?" + +What did I want? I did not know. It must have been the same instinct +that leads one to stamp upon a noxious insect. I think it was his joy +in the hideous spectacle beneath the cataract that had made me long to +kill him. + +But now a dreadful fear was dawning on me. + +"Jacqueline!" I screamed. + +"I have not seen her," he replied. "Now let me go! Ah, _mon Dieu_, +will you never let me go? It is too late!" + +Suddenly he grew calm. + +"It is too late," he said in a monotonous voice, "You have killed both +of us!" + +And, with the sweat still on his forehead, he stood looking maliciously +at me. + +"If you had let me go," he said, "you would have died just as you are +going to die." + +I saw the face of the cliff quiver; I saw an immense rock, half-way up, +leap into the air and seem to hang there; then the ground was upheaved +beneath my feet, and with a frightful roar the rocky walls swayed and +fell together. + +And the rivulet became a cataract that surged over me and filled my +ears with tumult and sealed my eyes with sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +FULL CONFESSION + +Darkness impenetrable about me, and a thick air that I breathed with +great gasps that hardly brought relief to my choking throat. And a +voice out of the darkness crying ceaselessly in my ears: + +"Help me! Help me!" + +In that nightmare I saw again those awful scenes as vividly as though +they had been etched in phosphorus before my eyes. I saw the last +struggle of Pierre and Leroux, and I pursued Lacroix along the tunnel. +I saw the cliff toppling forward, and the rock poised in mid-air. + +And the voice cried: "Help me! Help me!" and never ceased. + +I raised myself and tried to struggle to my feet. I found that I could +move my limbs freely, I tried to rise upon my knees, but the roof +struck my head. I stretched my arms out, and I touched the wall on +either side of me. + +I must have been stunned by the concussion of the landslide. By a +miracle I had not been struck. + +"Help me! Help me!" + +I tried to find the voice. I crawled three feet toward it, and the +wall stopped me. But the voice was there. It came from under the +wall. I felt about me in the darkness, and my hand touched something +damp. I whipped it back in horror. It was the face of a man. + +There was only the face. Where the body and limbs ought to have been +was only rock. The face was on my side of a wall of rock, pinning down +the body that lay outstretched beyond. + +I recognized the voice now. It was that of Philippe Lacroix. + +"Ah, _mon Dieu_! Help me! Help me!" + +He continued to repeat the words in every conceivable tone, and his +suffering was pitiable. I forgot my own troubles as I tried to aid +him. All my efforts were vain. There were tons of rock above him, and +under the inch or two of space where the rock rested above the ground I +felt the edge of a burlap bag. + +He had been pinned beneath the bags of earth and gold which he had +prized so dearly; the golden rocks were grinding out his life. He was +dying--and he could not take his treasures to that place to which he +must go. + +I felt one hand come through the tiny opening in the wall and grasp at +me. + +"Who is it?" he mumbled. "Is that you, Hewlett? For God's sake, kill +me!" + +I crouched beside him, but I did not know what to say or do. I could +only wait there, that he might not die alone. + +"Give me a knife!" he mumbled again, clutching at me. "A knife, +Hewlett! Don't leave me to die like this! Bring Pere Antoine and my +mother. I want to tell her--to tell her----" + +He muttered in his delirium until his voice died away. I thought that +he would never speak again. But presently he seemed to revive again to +the consciousness of his surroundings. + +"Are you with me, Hewlett?" he whispered. + +I placed my hand in his, and he clutched at it with feverish force. + +"You will have the gold, Hewlett," he muttered, apparently ignorant +that I, too, was a prisoner and in hardly better plight. "You are the +last of the four. I tried to kill you, Hewlett." + +I said nothing, and he repeated querulously, between his gasps: "I +tried to kill you, Hewlett. Are you going to leave me to die alone in +the dark now?" + +"No," I answered. "It doesn't matter, Lacroix." And, really, it did +not matter. + +"I wanted to kill you," his voice rambled on. "Leroux is dead. I +watched him die. I thought if--you died, too, no one but I would know +the secret of the gold. I tried to murder you. I blew up the tunnel!" + +He paused a while, and again I thought he was dying, but once more he +took up the confession. + +"There was nearly a quarter of a ton of blasting powder and dynamite in +the cave. You didn't know. You went about so blindly, Hewlett. I +watched you when I talked with you that night here. How long ago it +must have been! When was that?" + +I did not tell him it was yesterday. For it seemed immeasurably long +ago to me as well. + +"It was stored there," he said. "We had brought it up from St. +Boniface by sleigh--so carefully. Leroux intended to begin mining as +soon as Louis returned. And when he died I meant to kill you both, so +that the gold should all be mine. I told you it was here because I +thought you meant to kill me, but I meant to kill you when you had made +an end of Leroux. And you killed me. Damn you!" he snarled. "Why did +you not let me go?" + +He paused, and I heard him gasp for breath. His fingers clutched at my +coat-sleeve again and hooped themselves round mine like claws of steel. + +"I had a knife--once," he resumed, relapsing into his delirium; "but I +left it behind me and the police got it. Isn't it odd, Leroux," he +rambled on, "that one always leaves something behind when one has +killed a man? But the newspapers made no mention about the knife. You +didn't know he was dead, did you, Leroux, for all your cleverness, +until that fool Hewlett left that paper upon the table? You knew +enough to send me to jail, but you didn't know that it was I who killed +him. Help me!" He screamed horribly. "He is here, looking at me!" + +"There is nobody here, Philippe," I said, trying to soothe his agony of +soul. What a poor and stained soul it was, travelling into the next +world alone! "There is nobody but me, Philippe!" + +"You lie!" he raved. "Louis is here! He has come for me! Give me +your knife, Hewlett. It is for him, not for me. He deserved to die. +He tricked me after we had found the gold. He tricked me twice. He +told Leroux, thinking that he would win his gratitude and get free from +the man's power. And the second time he told Carson." + +My heart was thumping as he spoke. I hardly dared to hope his words +were true. + +"He was my friend," he mumbled. "We were friends since we were boys. +We would have kicked Leroux into the street if he had dared to enter +our homes. But we owed so much money. And he discovered--what we had +done. He wanted our family interest; he wanted to make use of us. And +when we found the mine, Louis thought we would never be in need of +money again. But Leroux was pressing him, threatening him. And so he +told him. Then there were three of us in the secret. + +"Leroux had formed a lumber company with Carson, but he did not tell +him about the gold. He formed his scheme with Louis. They said +nothing to me; they wanted to leave me out. Louis was to get the girl +and sell his rights to Simon. But afterward, when he had spent the +money Simon had given him, he thought he could get more out of Carson. +So he went to him and told the secret. That made four of us--four of +us, where there should have been only two." + +"What did you do?" I asked, though it was like conducting a postmortem +upon a murderer's corpse. + +"I went to New York to get my share. I wasn't going to be ousted, I, +who had been one of the discoverers. I don't know how much Carson paid +Louis, but I meant to demand half. I thought he had the money in his +pocket. + +"I followed him all that afternoon after he had left Carson's office. +I watched him in the street. At night he went to a room somewhere--at +the top of a tall building. I followed him. When I got in I found a +woman there. Louis was talking to her and threatening her. He said +she was his wife. How could she be his wife when he had married +Jacqueline Duchaine? + +"I didn't care--it was no business of mine. I couldn't see them, +because there was a curtain in the way. There was no light in the +bedroom. There was a light in the room in which I was. I put it out, +so that neither of them should see my face. She might have betrayed +me, you know, Simon. + +"He spun round when the light went out, and pushed the curtain aside. +I was waiting for that. I had calculated my blow. I stabbed him. It +was a good blow, though it was delivered in the dark. He only cried +out once. But the woman screamed, and a dog flew at me, and I couldn't +find his money. So I ran away. + +"And then there were only three of us who knew the secret. Then Simon +died and there were only two, and now there are only Hewlett and I, and +he is dead, poor fool, and I have my gold here. For God's sake give me +a knife, Simon!" + +His fingers tore at my sleeve in his last agony, and I was tempted +sorely. And it was his own knife that I had. The irony of it! + +He muttered once or twice and cried out in fear of the man whom he had +slain. I heard him gasp a little later. Then the hand fell from my +sleeve. And after that there was no further sound. + + +"Paul!" + +It was the merest whisper from the wall. I thought it was a trick of +my own mind. I dared not hope. + +"Paul! Dearest!" + +This was no fancy born of a delirious brain and the thick fumes of +dynamite. It came from the wall a little way ahead of me. I crawled +the three feet that the little cave afforded and put my hands upon the +rock, feeling its surface inch by inch. There was a crevice there, not +large enough to have permitted a bird to pass--the merest fissure. + +"Jacqueline! Is that you, dear?" I called. + +"Where are you, Paul?" she whispered back. + +"Behind the wall," I answered. "You are not hurt, Jacqueline?" + +"I am lying where you left me, dear. Paul, I--I heard." + +"You heard?" I answered dully. What did it matter now? + +"Why didn't you tell me, Paul? But never mind. I am so glad, dearest! +Can you come through to me?" + +I struggled to tear the rocks away; I beat and bruised my hands in vain +against them. + +"Soon," I muttered. "Soon. Can you breathe well, Jacqueline?" + +"It is all open, Paul. It is nearly dawn now." + +"I will come when it grows light, Jacqueline," I babbled. "When it +grows light!" + +She did not know that it would never grow light for me. Again I flung +myself against the walls of my prison, battering at them till the blood +dripped from my hands. Again and again I flung myself down hopelessly, +and then I tried again, clutching at every fragment that protruded into +the cave. + +And at last, when my despair had mastered me--it grew light. + +For a sunbeam shot like a finger through the crevice and quivered upon +the floor of the cave. And overhead, where I had never thought to +seek, where I had thought three hundred feet of eternal rock pressed +down on me, I saw the quiver of day through half a dozen feet of +tight-packed debris from the glacier's mouth. + +I raised myself and tore at it and sent it flying. I thrust my hands +among the stones and tore them down like the tiles from a rotten roof. + +I heard a shout; hands were reached down to me and pulled me up, and I +was on my feet upon a hillside, looking into the keen eyes of Pere +Antoine and the face of the Indian squaw. + +And the Eskimo dog was barking at my side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE END OF THE CHATEAU + +Only one thing marred the happiness of our reunion, and that was the +loss of Jacqueline's father. + +We had talked much over what had happened, and ten days later, when +Jacqueline had recovered from the shock and from what proved to be, +after all, only a flesh-wound, we had visited the scene of our rescue +by the old priest. + +The Indian woman had met him as she was returning home, and had told +him of our danger, and he had started out before dawn, to find that +there was no longer any entrance to the tunnel. Wandering in +bewilderment upon the mountains, he had reached the place where I was +buried at the moment of my final effort to break through the debris +overhead. + +Although the explanation seemed an impossible one, there was none other. + +The cliff, riddled with tunnels and eaten out by its numerous +subterranean streams, had fallen. The charge of dynamite exploded, as +it happened, beneath that part which buttressed the entire structure, +combining with the pressure of the glacier above, had thrown the +mountain on its side, filling the lake with several million tons of ice +and obliterating all traces of the _chateau_, which lay buried beneath +its waters. + +That was Pere Antoine's explanation, and we realized at once that it +was useless to search for Charles Duchaine. The whole aspect of the +region had been changed; there was neither glacier nor cataract, and +the lake, swollen to twice its size and height, slept peacefully +beneath its covering of ice and snow. + + +When we returned to the cabin we were amazed to see a sleigh standing +outside, and dogs feeding. Two men were seated at the priests table, +smoking. + +"_Diable, monsieur_, don't you keep a stove in your house?" shouted a +well-known voice to Pere Antoine. Then, as Jacqueline and I approached +the entrance, the man turned and sprang toward us with outstretched +hands that gripped ours and wrung them till we cried out in pain. + +It was Alfred Dubois. + +But I was stupefied to see the second man who rose and advanced toward +me with a shrewd smile. For it was Tom Carson! + +Presently I was telling my story--except for that part which more +intimately concerned myself and Jacqueline, and the narrative of the +murder, which I gave only as Lacroix had confessed it to me. + +A look of incredulity deepened on Tom's shrewd old face till, at the +end, he burst out explosively at me: + +"Hewlett, I didn't think I was a damned fool before--I beg your pardon, +miss. If any man had told me that I would have knocked him down. But +I am, I am, and want you to be my manager." + +"Do you mean that I have lied to you?" I asked indignantly. + +"Every word, Hewlett--every word, my son. That is why I want you back +with me. First you leave my employment without offering any reason; +then you take hold of my business affairs and try to pull off a deal +over my head, and then you tell me a yarn about a castle falling into a +lake." + +"But, M. Carson," interposed the priest, "I myself have seen this +_chateau_ many times. And I have gone to the entrance and looked from +the mountain, too, and it is no longer there." + +"Never was," said Carson. "You fellows get so lonesome up in these +wilds that you have to see things." + +"But I heard the explosion." + +"Artillery practice down the Gulf." + +"Listen to me, M. Carson!" exploded Dubois. "Did I not say that I +would drive you here myself because I was anxious about a friend of +mine and his young bride who were in the clutches of that scoundrel, +Simon Leroux, who killed my brother? And did I not say that they were +in the _Chateau Duchaine_?" + +"Well, there may be a _chateau_, somewhere," Carson replied. "In fact, +there probably is. This man, d'Epernay, who is said to be dead now, +wanted to sell me the biggest gold mine in the world for fifty thousand +dollars, and from what I know of Leroux I am ready to believe that he +would try to hog it if it really exists. So, as I wanted to see how +our lumber development at St. Boniface was getting along, I thought I'd +come up here and investigate." + +"But how about Leroux?" I cried, more amused now than vexed. + +"That," answered Tom, "is precisely why I want to get hold of you +again, Mr. Hewlett." + +"But here is Mlle. Duchaine!" shouted the old priest in despair. + +Tom Carson raised his fat old body about five inches and made +Jacqueline what he took to be a bow. + +"Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss," he replied. "Ah, well, it +doesn't matter. I guess that man, d'Epernay, was lying to me. He +wanted to get a cash advance, and I got a little suspicious of him just +about then. However, I am ready to look at your gold mine if you want +me to." + +"You'll have to do some blasting then," I said, nettled. "It's just +about two hundred feet below the ground." + +"Never mind," said Tom. "Lumber is better than gold. Next time I'm +here I shall be glad to have another look around. And now, Hewlett, if +you want a job at five thousand a year to start--to start, mind you, +you play fair and tell me where Leroux is hiding himself." + +I was too mortified to answer him. But I felt Jacqueline slip her hand +into mine, and suddenly the memory of the past made Tom's raillery an +insignificant affair. + +"Mind you," he pursued, "he'll turn up soon. He's got to turn up, +because the lumber company's all organized now and in fine running +order. What do you say, Hewlett?" + +"Nothing," I answered. + +"All right," he said, turning away with a shrug of his shoulders. +"Unpractical as ever, ain't you? Think it over, my son. Glad to have +met you, Mr. Priest, and as I'm always busy I guess Dubois and I will +start for home this afternoon." + +Jacqueline looked at me, and I shook my head. I didn't want Tom to +witness it. But a word from Pere Antoine changed the hostile tenor of +my thoughts to warm and human ones. + +"Messieurs," he said, "doubtless you know what day this is?" + +Tom started. "Why, good Lord, it--it's Christmas Day, isn't it?" he +asked, a little sheepishly. + +"It's a bigger day for us," I said to Tom. + +He squinted at me in his shrewd manner; and then he got up from the +table and wrung my hand. + +"Good luck to you both," he said. "Say, Mr. Dubois, I guess we can +pitch our tent here to-night--don't you?" + +Alfred Dubois was grappling with our hands again; but his onset was +less ferocious, because he had to loose us every now and then to slap +me on the back and blow his nose. + +"If only _la petite Madeleine_ could be here!" he shouted. And I am +sure that was his dinner voice I heard. + + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Jacqueline of Golden River, by H. M. 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