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diff --git a/3802-h/3802-h.htm~ b/3802-h/3802-h.htm~ new file mode 100644 index 0000000..75ea431 --- /dev/null +++ b/3802-h/3802-h.htm~ @@ -0,0 +1,17708 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Lerouge Case | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .big {font-size: 1.3em;} +.center {text-align: center;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Widow Lerouge, by Emile Gaboriau</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Widow Lerouge +<br>The Lerouge Case</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Emile Gaboriaun</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 12, 2006 [EBook #3802]<br> +[Most recently updated: October 21, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Moynihan; Dagny; David Widger</div> + + <h1> + THE LEROUGE CASE + </h1> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <p class="center big"> + By Emile Gaboriau + </p> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <span class="big"><b>CONTENTS</b></span> + </p> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br> <br> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + On Thursday, the 6th of March, 1862, two days after Shrove Tuesday, five + women belonging to the village of La Jonchere presented themselves at the + police station at Bougival. + </p> + <p> + They stated that for two days past no one had seen the Widow Lerouge, one + of their neighbours, who lived by herself in an isolated cottage. They had + several times knocked at the door, but all in vain. The window-shutters as + well as the door were closed; and it was impossible to obtain even a + glimpse of the interior. + </p> + <p> + This silence, this sudden disappearance alarmed them. Apprehensive of a + crime, or at least of an accident, they requested the interference of the + police to satisfy their doubts by forcing the door and entering the house. + </p> + <p> + Bougival is a pleasant riverside village, peopled on Sundays by crowds of + boating parties. Trifling offences are frequently heard of in its + neighbourhood, but crimes are rare. + </p> + <p> + The commissary of police at first refused to listen to the women, but + their importunities so fatigued him that he at length acceded to their + request. He sent for the corporal of gendarmes, with two of his men, + called into requisition the services of a locksmith, and, thus + accompanied, followed the neighbours of the Widow Lerouge. + </p> + <p> + La Jonchere owes some celebrity to the inventor of the sliding railway, + who for some years past has, with more enterprise than profit, made public + trials of his system in the immediate neighbourhood. It is a hamlet of no + importance, resting upon the slope of the hill which overlooks the Seine + between La Malmaison and Bougival. It is about twenty minutes’ walk from + the main road, which, passing by Rueil and Port-Marly, goes from Paris to + St. Germain, and is reached by a steep and rugged lane, quite unknown to + the government engineers. + </p> + <p> + The party, led by the gendarmes, followed the main road which here + bordered the river until it reached this lane, into which it turned, and + stumbled over the rugged inequalities of the ground for about a hundred + yards, when it arrived in front of a cottage of extremely modest yet + respectable appearance. This cottage had probably been built by some + little Parisian shopkeeper in love with the beauties of nature; for all + the trees had been carefully cut down. It consisted merely of two + apartments on the ground floor with a loft above. Around it extended a + much-neglected garden, badly protected against midnight prowlers, by a + very dilapidated stone wall about three feet high, and broken and + crumbling in many places. A light wooden gate, clumsily held in its place + by pieces of wire, gave access to the garden. + </p> + <p> + “It is here,” said the women. + </p> + <p> + The commissary stopped. During his short walk, the number of his followers + had been rapidly increasing, and now included all the inquisitive and idle + persons of the neighbourhood. He found himself surrounded by about forty + individuals burning with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “No one must enter the garden,” said he; and, to ensure obedience, he + placed the two gendarmes on sentry before the entrance, and advanced + towards the house, accompanied by the corporal and the locksmith. + </p> + <p> + He knocked several times loudly with his leaded cane, first at the door, + and then successively at all the window shutters. After each blow, he + placed his ear against the wood and listened. Hearing nothing, he turned + to the locksmith. + </p> + <p> + “Open!” said he. + </p> + <p> + The workman unstrapped his satchel, and produced his implements. He had + already introduced a skeleton key into the lock, when a loud exclamation + was heard from the crowd outside the gate. + </p> + <p> + “The key!” they cried. “Here is the key!” + </p> + <p> + A boy about twelve years old playing with one of his companions, had seen + an enormous key in a ditch by the roadside; he had picked it up and + carried it to the cottage in triumph. + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me youngster,” said the corporal. “We shall see.” + </p> + <p> + The key was tried, and it proved to be the key of the house. + </p> + <p> + The commissary and the locksmith exchanged glances full of sinister + misgivings. “This looks bad,” muttered the corporal. They entered the + house, while the crowd, restrained with difficulty by the gendarmes, + stamped with impatience, or leant over the garden wall, stretching their + necks eagerly, to see or hear something of what was passing within the + cottage. + </p> + <p> + Those who anticipated the discovery of a crime, were unhappily not + deceived. The commissary was convinced of this as soon as he crossed the + threshold. Everything in the first room pointed with a sad eloquence to + the recent presence of a malefactor. The furniture was knocked about, and + a chest of drawers and two large trunks had been forced and broken open. + </p> + <p> + In the inner room, which served as a sleeping apartment, the disorder was + even greater. It seemed as though some furious hand had taken a fiendish + pleasure in upsetting everything. Near the fireplace, her face buried in + the ashes, lay the dead body of Widow Lerouge. All one side of the face + and the hair were burnt; it seemed a miracle that the fire had not caught + her clothing. + </p> + <p> + “Wretches!” exclaimed the corporal. “Could they not have robbed, without + assassinating the poor woman?” + </p> + <p> + “But where has she been wounded?” inquired the commissary, “I do not see + any blood.” + </p> + <p> + “Look! here between the shoulders,” replied the corporal; “two fierce + blows, by my faith. I’ll wager my stripes she had no time to cry out.” + </p> + <p> + He stooped over the corpse and touched it. + </p> + <p> + “She is quite cold,” he continued, “and it seems to me that she is no + longer very stiff. It is at least thirty-six hours since she received her + death-blow.” + </p> + <p> + The commissary began writing, on the corner of a table, a short official + report. + </p> + <p> + “We are not here to talk, but to discover the guilty,” said he to the + corporal. “Let information be at once conveyed to the justice of the + peace, and the mayor, and send this letter without delay to the Palais de + Justice. In a couple of hours, an investigating magistrate can be here. In + the meanwhile, I will proceed to make a preliminary inquiry.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I carry the letter?” asked the corporal of gendarmes. + </p> + <p> + “No, send one of your men; you will be useful to me here in keeping these + people in order, and in finding any witnesses I may want. We must leave + everything here as it is. I will install myself in the other room.” + </p> + <p> + A gendarme departed at a run towards the station at Rueil; and the + commissary commenced his investigations in regular form, as prescribed by + law. + </p> + <p> + “Who was Widow Lerouge? Where did she come from? What did she do? Upon + what means, and how did she live? What were her habits, her morals, and + what sort of company did she keep? Was she known to have enemies? Was she + a miser? Did she pass for being rich?” + </p> + <p> + The commissary knew the importance of ascertaining all this: but although + the witnesses were numerous enough, they possessed but little information. + The depositions of the neighbours, successively interrogated, were empty, + incoherent, and incomplete. No one knew anything of the victim, who was a + stranger in the country. Many presented themselves as witnesses moreover, + who came forward less to afford information than to gratify their + curiosity. A gardener’s wife, who had been friendly with the deceased, and + a milk-woman with whom she dealt, were alone able to give a few + insignificant though precise details. + </p> + <p> + In a word, after three hours of laborious investigation, after having + undergone the infliction of all the gossip of the country, after receiving + evidence the most contradictory, and listened to commentaries the most + ridiculous, the following is what appeared the most reliable to the + commissary. + </p> + <p> + Twelve years before, at the beginning of 1850, the woman Lerouge had made + her appearance at Bougival with a large wagon piled with furniture, linen, + and her personal effects. She had alighted at an inn, declaring her + intention of settling in the neighbourhood, and had immediately gone in + quest of a house. Finding this one unoccupied, and thinking it would suit + her, she had taken it without trying to beat down the terms, at a rental + of three hundred and twenty francs payable half yearly and in advance, but + had refused to sign a lease. + </p> + <p> + The house taken, she occupied it the same day, and expended about a + hundred francs on repairs. + </p> + <p> + She was a woman about fifty-four or fifty-five years of age, well + preserved, active, and in the enjoyment of excellent health. No one knew + her reasons for taking up her abode in a country where she was an absolute + stranger. She was supposed to have come from Normandy, having been + frequently seen in the early morning to wear a white cotton cap. This + night-cap did not prevent her dressing very smartly during the day; + indeed, she ordinarily wore very handsome dresses, very showy ribbons in + her caps, and covered herself with jewels like a saint in a chapel. + Without doubt she had lived on the coast, for ships and the sea recurred + incessantly in her conversation. + </p> + <p> + She did not like speaking of her husband who had, she said, perished in a + shipwreck. But she had never given the slightest detail. On one particular + occasion she had remarked, in presence of the milk-woman and three other + persons, “No woman was ever more miserable than I during my married life.” + And at another she had said, “All new, all fine! A new broom sweeps clean. + My defunct husband only loved me for a year!” + </p> + <p> + Widow Lerouge passed for rich, or at the least for being very well off and + she was not a miser. She had lent a woman at La Malmaison sixty francs + with which to pay her rent, and would not let her return them. At another + time she had advanced two hundred francs to a fisherman of Port-Marly. She + was fond of good living, spent a good deal on her food, and bought wine by + the half cask. She took pleasure in treating her acquaintances, and her + dinners were excellent. If complimented on her easy circumstances, she + made no very strong denial. She had frequently been heard to say, “I have + nothing in the funds, but I have everything I want. If I wished for more, + I could have it.” + </p> + <p> + Beyond this, the slightest allusion to her past life, her country, or her + family had never escaped her. She was very talkative, but all she would + say would be to the detriment of her neighbours. She was supposed, + however, to have seen the world, and to know a great deal. She was very + distrustful and barricaded herself in her cottage as in a fortress. She + never went out in the evening, and it was well known that she got tipsy + regularly at her dinner and went to bed very soon afterwards. Rarely had + strangers been seen to visit her; four or five times a lady accompanied by + a young man had called, and upon one occasion two gentlemen, one young, + the other old and decorated, had come in a magnificent carriage. + </p> + <p> + In conclusion, the deceased was held in but little esteem by her + neighbours. Her remarks were often most offensive and odious in the mouth + of a woman of her age. She had been heard to give a young girl the most + detestable counsels. A pork butcher, belonging to Bougival, embarrassed in + his business, and tempted by her supposed wealth, had at one time paid her + his addresses. She, however, repelled his advances, declaring that to be + married once was enough for her. On several occasions men had been seen in + her house; first of all, a young one, who had the appearance of a clerk of + the railway company; then another, a tall, elderly man, very sunburnt, who + was dressed in a blouse, and looked very villainous. These men were + reported to be her lovers. + </p> + <p> + Whilst questioning the witnesses, the commissary wrote down their + depositions in a more condensed form, and he had got so far, when the + investigating magistrate arrived, attended by the chief of the detective + police, and one of his subordinates. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was a man thirty-eight years of age, and of prepossessing + appearance; sympathetic notwithstanding his coldness; wearing upon his + countenance a sweet, and rather sad expression. This settled melancholy + had remained with him ever since his recovery, two years before, from a + dreadful malady, which had well-nigh proved fatal. + </p> + <p> + Investigating magistrate since 1859, he had rapidly acquired the most + brilliant reputation. Laborious, patient, and acute, he knew with singular + skill how to disentangle the skein of the most complicated affair, and + from the midst of a thousand threads lay hold to the right one. None + better than he, armed with an implacable logic, could solve those terrible + problems in which X—in algebra, the unknown quantity—represents + the criminal. Clever in deducing the unknown from the known, he excelled + in collecting facts, and in uniting in a bundle of overwhelming proofs + circumstances the most trifling, and in appearance the most insignificant. + </p> + <p> + Although possessed of qualifications for his office so numerous and + valuable, he was tremblingly distrustful of his own abilities and + exercised his terrible functions with diffidence and hesitation. He wanted + audacity to risk those sudden surprises so often resorted to by his + colleagues in the pursuit of truth. + </p> + <p> + Thus it was repugnant to his feelings to deceive even an accused person, + or to lay snares for him; in fact the mere idea of the possibility of a + judicial error terrified him. They said of him in the courts, “He is a + trembler.” What he sought was not conviction, nor the most probable + presumptions, but the most absolute certainty. No rest for him until the + day when the accused was forced to bow before the evidence; so much so + that he had been jestingly reproached with seeking not to discover + criminals but innocents. + </p> + <p> + The chief of detective police was none other than the celebrated Gevrol. + He is really an able man, but wanting in perseverance, and liable to be + blinded by an incredible obstinacy. If he loses a clue, he cannot bring + himself to acknowledge it, still less to retrace his steps. His audacity + and coolness, however, render it impossible to disconcert him; and being + possessed of immense personal strength, hidden under a most meagre + appearance, he has never hesitated to confront the most daring of + malefactors. + </p> + <p> + But his specialty, his triumph, his glory, is a memory of faces, so + prodigious as to exceed belief. Let him see a face for five minutes, and + it is enough. Its possessor is catalogued, and will be recognised at any + time. The impossibilities of place, the unlikelihood of circumstances, the + most incredible disguises will not lead him astray. The reason for this, + so he pretends, is because he only looks at a man’s eyes, without noticing + any other features. + </p> + <p> + This faculty was severely tested some months back at Poissy, by the + following experiment. Three prisoners were draped in coverings so as to + completely disguise their height. Over their faces were thick veils, + allowing nothing of the features to be seen except the eyes, for which + holes had been made; and in this state they were shown to Gevrol. + </p> + <p> + Without the slightest hesitation he recognised the prisoners and named + them. Had chance alone assisted him? + </p> + <p> + The subordinate Gevrol had brought with him, was an old offender, + reconciled to the law. A smart fellow in his profession, crafty as a fox, + and jealous of his chief, whose abilities he held in light estimation. His + name was Lecoq. + </p> + <p> + The commissary, by this time heartily tired of his responsibilities, + welcomed the investigating magistrate and his agents as liberators. He + rapidly related the facts collected and read his official report. + </p> + <p> + “You have proceeded very well,” observed the investigating magistrate. + “All is stated clearly; yet there is one fact you have omitted to + ascertain.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that, sir?” inquired the commissary. + </p> + <p> + “On what day was Widow Lerouge last seen, and at what hour?” + </p> + <p> + “I was coming to that presently. She was last seen and spoken to on the + evening of Shrove Tuesday, at twenty minutes past five. She was then + returning from Bougival with a basketful of purchases.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure of the hour, sir?” inquired Gevrol. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, and for this reason; the two witnesses who furnished me with + this fact, a woman named Tellier and a cooper who lives hard by, alighted + from the omnibus which leaves Marly every hour, when they perceived the + widow in the cross-road, and hastened to overtake her. They conversed with + her and only left her when they reached the door of her own house.” + </p> + <p> + “And what had she in her basket?” asked the investigating magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “The witnesses cannot say. They only know that she carried two sealed + bottles of wine, and another of brandy. She complained to them of + headache, and said, ‘Though it is customary to enjoy oneself on Shrove + Tuesday, I am going to bed.’” + </p> + <p> + “So, so!” exclaimed the chief of detective police. “I know where to + search!” + </p> + <p> + “You think so?” inquired M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is clear enough. We must find the tall sunburnt man, the gallant + in the blouse. The brandy and the wine were intended for his + entertainment. The widow expected him to supper. He came, sure enough, the + amiable gallant!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried the corporal of gendarmes, evidently scandalised, “she was + very old, and terribly ugly!” + </p> + <p> + Gevrol surveyed the honest fellow with an expression of contemptuous pity. + “Know, corporal,” said he, “that a woman who has money is always young and + pretty, if she desires to be thought so!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps there is something in that,” remarked the magistrate; “but it is + not what strikes me most. I am more impressed by the remark of this + unfortunate woman. ‘If I wished for more, I could have it.’” + </p> + <p> + “That also attracted my attention,” acquiesced the commissary. + </p> + <p> + But Gevrol no longer took the trouble to listen. He stuck to his own + opinion, and began to inspect minutely every corner of the room. Suddenly + he turned towards the commissary. “Now that I think of it,” cried he, “was + it not on Tuesday that the weather changed? It had been freezing for a + fortnight past, and on that evening it rained. At what time did the rain + commence here?” + </p> + <p> + “At half-past nine,” answered the corporal. “I went out from supper to + make my circuit of the dancing halls, when I was overtaken opposite the + Rue des Pecheurs by a heavy shower. In less than ten minutes there was + half an inch of water in the road.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Gevrol. “Then if the man came after half-past nine his + shoes must have been very muddy. If they were dry, he arrived sooner. This + must have been noticed, for the floor is a polished one. Were there any + imprints of footsteps, M. Commissary?” + </p> + <p> + “I must confess we never thought of looking for them.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” exclaimed the chief detective, in a tone of irritation, “that is + vexatious!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” added the commissary; “there is yet time to see if there are any, + not in this room, but in the other. We have disturbed absolutely nothing + there. My footsteps and the corporal’s will be easily distinguished. Let + us see.” + </p> + <p> + As the commissary opened the door of the second chamber, Gevrol stopped + him. “I ask permission, sir,” said he to the investigating magistrate, “to + examine the apartment before any one else is permitted to enter. It is + very important for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” approved M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + Gevrol passed in first, the others remaining on the threshold. They all + took in at a glance the scene of the crime. Everything, as the commissary + had stated, seemed to have been overturned by some furious madman. In the + middle of the room was a table covered with a fine linen cloth, white as + snow. Upon this was placed a magnificent wineglass of the rarest + manufacture, a very handsome knife, and a plate of the finest porcelain. + There was an opened bottle of wine, hardly touched, and another of brandy, + from which about five or six small glassfuls had been taken. + </p> + <p> + On the right, against the wall, stood two handsome walnut-wood wardrobes, + with ornamental locks; they were placed one on each side of the window; + both were empty, and the contents scattered about on all sides. There were + clothing, linen, and other effects unfolded, tossed about, and crumpled. + At the end of the room, near the fireplace, a large cupboard used for + keeping the crockery was wide open. On the other side of the fireplace, an + old secretary with a marble top had been forced, broken, smashed into + bits, and rummaged, no doubt, to its inmost recesses. The desk, wrenched + away, hung by a single hinge. The drawers had been pulled out and thrown + upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + To the left of the room stood the bed, which had been completely + disarranged and upset. Even the straw of the mattress had been pulled out + and examined. + </p> + <p> + “Not the slightest imprint,” murmured Gevrol disappointed. “He must have + arrived before half-past nine. You can all come in now.” + </p> + <p> + He walked right up to the corpse of the widow, near which he knelt. + </p> + <p> + “It can not be said,” grumbled he, “that the work is not properly done! + the assassin is no apprentice!” + </p> + <p> + Then looking right and left, he continued: “Oh! oh! the poor devil was + busy with her cooking when he struck her; see her pan of ham and eggs upon + the hearth. The brute hadn’t patience enough to wait for the dinner. The + gentleman was in a hurry, he struck the blow fasting; therefore he can’t + invoke the gayety of dessert in his defense!” + </p> + <p> + “It is evident,” said the commissary to the investigating magistrate, + “that robbery was the motive of the crime.” + </p> + <p> + “It is probable,” answered Gevrol in a sly way; “and that accounts for the + absence of the silver spoons from the table.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here! Some pieces of gold in this drawer!” exclaimed Lecoq, who had + been searching on his own account, “just three hundred and twenty francs!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never!” cried Gevrol, a little disconcerted. But he soon + recovered from his embarrassment, and added: “He must have forgotten them; + that often happens. I have known an assassin, who, after accomplishing the + murder, became so utterly bewildered as to depart without remembering to + take the plunder, for which he had committed the crime. Our man became + excited perhaps, or was interrupted. Some one may have knocked at the + door. What makes me more willing to think so is, that the scamp did not + leave the candle burning. You see he took the trouble to put it out.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said Lecoq. “That proves nothing. He is probably an economical and + careful man.” + </p> + <p> + The investigations of the two agents were continued all over the house; + but their most minute researches resulted in discovering absolutely + nothing; not one piece of evidence to convict; not the faintest indication + which might serve as a point of departure. Even the dead woman’s papers, + if she possessed any, had disappeared. Not a letter, not a scrap of paper + even, to be met with. From time to time Gevrol stopped to swear or + grumble. “Oh! it is cleverly done! It is a tiptop piece of work! The + scoundrel is a cool hand!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you make of it?” at length demanded the investigating + magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “It is a drawn game monsieur,” replied Gevrol. “We are baffled for the + present. The miscreant has taken his measures with great precaution; but I + will catch him. Before night, I shall have a dozen men in pursuit. + Besides, he is sure to fall into our hands. He has carried off the plate + and the jewels. He is lost!” + </p> + <p> + “Despite all that,” said M. Daburon, “we are no further advanced than we + were this morning!” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” growled Gevrol. “A man can only do what he can!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” murmured Lecoq in a low tone, perfectly audible, however, “why is + not old Tirauclair here?” + </p> + <p> + “What could he do more than we have done?” retorted Gevrol, directing a + furious glance at his subordinate. Lecoq bowed his head and was silent, + inwardly delighted at having wounded his chief. + </p> + <p> + “Who is old Tirauclair?” asked M. Daburon. “It seems to me that I have + heard the name, but I can’t remember where.” + </p> + <p> + “He is an extraordinary man!” exclaimed Lecoq. “He was formerly a clerk at + the Mont de Piete,” added Gevrol; “but he is now a rich old fellow, whose + real name is Tabaret. He goes in for playing the detective by way of + amusement.” + </p> + <p> + “And to augment his revenues,” insinuated the commissary. + </p> + <p> + “He?” cried Lecoq. “No danger of that. He works so much for the glory of + success that he often spends money from his own pocket. It’s his + amusement, you see! At the Prefecture we have nicknamed him ‘Tirauclair,’ + from a phrase he is constantly in the habit of repeating. Ah! he is sharp, + the old weasel! It was he who in the case of that banker’s wife, you + remember, guessed that the lady had robbed herself, and who proved it.” + </p> + <p> + “True!” retorted Gevrol; “and it was also he who almost had poor Dereme + guillotined for killing his wife, a thorough bad woman; and all the while + the poor man was innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “We are wasting our time, gentlemen,” interrupted M. Daburon. Then, + addressing himself to Lecoq, he added:—“Go and find M. Tabaret. I + have heard a great deal of him, and shall be glad to see him at work + here.” + </p> + <p> + Lecoq started off at a run, Gevrol was seriously humiliated. “You have of + course, sir, the right to demand the services of whom you please,” + commenced he, “but yet—” + </p> + <p> + “Do not,” interrupted M. Daburon, “let us lose our tempers, M. Gevrol. I + have known you for a long time, and I know your worth; but to-day we + happen to differ in opinion. You hold absolutely to your sunburnt man in + the blouse, and I, on my side, am convinced that you are not on the right + track!” + </p> + <p> + “I think I am right,” replied the detective, “and I hope to prove it. I + shall find the scoundrel, be he whom he may!” + </p> + <p> + “I ask nothing better,” said M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + “Only, permit me, sir, to give—what shall I say without failing in + respect?—a piece of advice?” + </p> + <p> + “Speak!” + </p> + <p> + “I would advise you, sir, to distrust old Tabaret.” + </p> + <p> + “Really? And for what reason?” + </p> + <p> + “The old fellow allows himself to be carried away too much by appearances. + He has become an amateur detective for the sake of popularity, just like + an author; and, as he is vainer than a peacock, he is apt to lose his + temper and be very obstinate. As soon as he finds himself in the presence + of a crime, like this one, for example, he pretends he can explain + everything on the instant. And he manages to invent a story that will + correspond exactly with the situation. He professes, with the help of one + single fact, to be able to reconstruct all the details of an + assassination, as a savant pictures an antediluvian animal from a single + bone. Sometimes he divines correctly; very often, though, he makes a + mistake. Take, for instance, the case of the tailor, the unfortunate + Dereme, without me—” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for your advice,” interrupted M. Daburon, “and will profit by + it. Now commissary,” he continued, “it is most important to ascertain from + what part of the country Widow Lerouge came.” + </p> + <p> + The procession of witnesses under the charge of the corporal of gendarmes + were again interrogated by the investigating magistrate. + </p> + <p> + But nothing new was elicited. It was evident that Widow Lerouge had been a + singularly discreet woman; for, although very talkative, nothing in any + way connected with her antecedents remained in the memory of the gossips + of La Jonchere. + </p> + <p> + All the people interrogated, however, obstinately tried to impart to the + magistrate their own convictions and personal conjectures. Public opinion + sided with Gevrol. Every voice denounced the tall sunburnt man with the + gray blouse. He must surely be the culprit. Everyone remembered his + ferocious aspect, which had frightened the whole neighbourhood. He had one + evening menaced a woman, and another day beaten a child. They could point + out neither the child nor the woman; but no matter: these brutal acts were + notoriously public. M. Daburon began to despair of gaining the least + enlightenment, when some one brought the wife of a grocer of Bougival, at + whose shop the victim used to deal, and a child thirteen years old, who + knew, it was said, something positive. + </p> + <p> + The grocer’s wife first made her appearance. She had heard Widow Lerouge + speak of having a son still living. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure of that?” asked the investigating magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “As of my existence,” answered the woman, “for, on that evening, yes, it + was evening, she was, saving your presence, a little tipsy. She remained + in my shop more than an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did she say?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I see her now,” continued the shopkeeper: “she was leaning + against the counter near the scales, jesting with a fisherman of Marly, + old Husson, who can tell you the same; and she called him a fresh water + sailor. ‘My husband,’ said she, ‘was a real sailor, and the proof is, he + would sometimes remain years on a voyage, and always used to bring me back + cocoanuts. I have a son who is also a sailor, like his dead father, in the + imperial navy.’” + </p> + <p> + “Did she mention her son’s name?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that time, but another evening, when she was, if I may say so, very + drunk. She told us that her son’s name was Jacques, and that she had not + seen him for a very long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she speak ill of her husband?” + </p> + <p> + “Never! She only said he was jealous and brutal, though a good man at + bottom, and that he led her a miserable life. He was weak-headed, and + forged ideas out of nothing at all. In fact he was too honest to be wise.” + </p> + <p> + “Did her son ever come to see her while she lived here?” + </p> + <p> + “She never told me of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she spend much money with you?” + </p> + <p> + “That depends. About sixty francs a month; sometimes more, for she always + buys the best brandy. She paid cash for all she bought.” + </p> + <p> + The woman knowing no more was dismissed. The child, who was now brought + forward, belonged to parents in easy circumstances. Tall and strong for + his age, he had bright intelligent eyes, and features expressive of + watchfulness and cunning. The presence of the magistrate did not seem to + intimidate him in the least. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear, my boy,” said M. Daburon, “what you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, a few days ago, on Sunday last, I saw a man at Madame + Lerouge’s garden-gate.” + </p> + <p> + “At what time of the day?” + </p> + <p> + “Early in the morning. I was going to church, to serve in the second + mass.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued the magistrate, “and this man was tall and sunburnt, and + dressed in a blouse?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, on the contrary, he was short, very fat, and old.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure you are not mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure,” replied the urchin, “I saw him close face to face, for I + spoke to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, then, what occurred?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, I was passing when I saw this fat man at the gate. He appeared + very much vexed, oh! but awfully vexed! His face was red, or rather + purple, as far as the middle of his head, which I could see very well, for + it was bare, and had very little hair on it.” + </p> + <p> + “And did he speak to you first?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, he saw me, and called out, ‘Halloa! youngster!’ as I came up to + him, and he asked me if I had got a good pair of legs? I answered yes. + Then he took me by the ear, but without hurting me, and said, ‘Since that + is so, if you will run an errand for me, I will give you ten sous. Run as + far as the Seine; and when you reach the quay, you will notice a large + boat moored. Go on board, and ask to see Captain Gervais: he is sure to be + there. Tell him that he can prepare to leave, that I am ready.’ Then he + put ten sous in my hand; and off I went.” + </p> + <p> + “If all the witnesses were like this bright little fellow,” murmured the + commissary, “what a pleasure it would be!” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said the magistrate, “tell us how you executed your commission?” + </p> + <p> + “I went to the boat, sir, found the man, and I told him; and that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + Gevrol, who had listened with the most lively attention, leaned over + towards the ear of M. Daburon, and said in a low voice: “Will you permit + me, sir, to ask the brat a few questions?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, M. Gevrol.” + </p> + <p> + “Come now, my little friend,” said Gevrol, “if you saw this man again, + would you know him?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Then there was something remarkable about him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I should think so! his face was the colour of a brick!” + </p> + <p> + “And is that all?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must remember how he was dressed; had he a blouse on?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he wore a jacket. Under the arms were very large pockets, and from + out of one of them peeped a blue spotted handkerchief.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of trousers had he on?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not remember.” + </p> + <p> + “And his waistcoat?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see,” answered the child. “I don’t think he wore a waistcoat. And + yet,—but no, I remember he did not wear one; he had a long cravat, + fastened near his neck by a large ring.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Gevrol, with an air of satisfaction, “you are a bright boy; and + I wager that if you try hard to remember you will find a few more details + to give us.” + </p> + <p> + The boy hung down his head, and remained silent. From the knitting of his + young brows, it was plain he was making a violent effort of memory. “Yes,” + cried he suddenly, “I remember another thing.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “The man wore very large rings in his ears.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” cried Gevrol, “here is a complete description. I shall find the + fellow now. M. Daburon can prepare a warrant for his appearance whenever + he likes.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe, indeed, the testimony of this child is of the highest + importance,” said M. Daburon; and turning to the boy added, “Can you tell + us, my little friend, with what this boat was loaded?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I couldn’t see because it was decked.” + </p> + <p> + “Which way was she going, up the Seine or down?” + </p> + <p> + “Neither, sir, she was moored.” + </p> + <p> + “We know that,” said Gevrol. “The magistrate asks you which way the prow + of the boat was turned,—towards Paris or towards Marly?” + </p> + <p> + “The two ends of the boat seemed alike to me.” + </p> + <p> + The chief of the detective of police made a gesture of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” said he, addressing the child again, “you noticed the name of + the boat? you can read I suppose. One should always know the names of the + boats one goes aboard of.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn’t see any name,” said the little boy. + </p> + <p> + “If this boat was moored at the quay,” remarked M. Daburon, “it was + probably noticed by the inhabitants of Bougival.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, sir,” approved the commissary. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Gevrol, “and the sailors must have come ashore. I shall find + out all about it at the wine shop. But what sort of a man was Gervais, the + master, my little friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Like all the sailors hereabouts, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The child was preparing to depart when M. Daburon recalled him. + </p> + <p> + “Before you go, my boy, tell me, have you spoken to any one of this + meeting before to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I told all to mamma when I got back from church, and gave her + the ten sous.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have told us the whole truth?” continued the magistrate. “You + know that it is a very grave matter to attempt to impose on justice. She + always finds it out, and it is my duty to warn you that she inflicts the + most terrible punishment upon liars.” + </p> + <p> + The little fellow blushed as red as a cherry, and held down his head. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” pursued M. Daburon, “that you have concealed something from us. + Don’t you know that the police know everything?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon! sir,” cried the boy, bursting into tears,—“pardon. Don’t + punish me, and I will never do so again.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell us, then, how you have deceived us?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, it was not ten sous that the man gave me, it was twenty sous. + I only gave half to mamma; and I kept the rest to buy marbles with.” + </p> + <p> + “My little friend,” said the investigating magistrate, “for this time I + forgive you. But let it be a lesson for the remainder of your life. You + may go now, and remember it is useless to try and hide the truth; it + always comes to light!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + The two last depositions awakened in M. Daburon’s mind some slight gleams + of hope. In the midst of darkness, the humblest rush-light acquires + brilliancy. + </p> + <p> + “I will go at once to Bougival, sir, if you approve of this step,” + suggested Gevrol. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you would do well to wait a little,” answered M. Daburon. “This + man was seen on Sunday morning; we will inquire into Widow Lerouge’s + movements on that day.” + </p> + <p> + Three neighbours were called. They all declared that the widow had kept + her bed all Sunday. To one woman who, hearing she was unwell, had visited + her, she said, “Ah! I had last night a terrible accident.” Nobody at the + time attached any significance to these words. + </p> + <p> + “The man with the rings in his ears becomes more and important,” said the + magistrate, when the woman had retired. “To find him again is + indispensable: you must see to this, M. Gevrol.” + </p> + <p> + “Before eight days, I shall have him,” replied the chief of detective + police, “if I have to search every boat on the Seine, from its source to + the ocean. I know the name of the captain, Gervais. The navigation office + will tell me something.” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by Lecoq, who rushed into the house breathless. “Here + is old Tabaret,” he said. “I met him just as he was going out. What a man! + He wouldn’t wait for the train, but gave I don’t know how much to a + cabman; and we drove here in fifty minutes!” + </p> + <p> + Almost immediately, a man appeared at the door, whose aspect it must be + admitted was not at all what one would have expected of a person who had + joined the police for honour alone. He was certainly sixty years old and + did not look a bit younger. Short, thin, and rather bent, he leant on the + carved ivory handle of a stout cane. His round face wore that expression + of perpetual astonishment, mingled with uneasiness, which has made the + fortunes of two comic actors of the Palais-Royal theatre. Scrupulously + shaved, he presented a very short chin, large and good natured lips, and a + nose disagreeably elevated, like the broad end of one of Sax’s horns. His + eyes of a dull gray, were small and red at the lids, and absolutely void + of expression; yet they fatigued the observer by their insupportable + restlessness. A few straight hairs shaded his forehead, which receded like + that of a greyhound, and through their scantiness barely concealed his + long ugly ears. He was very comfortably dressed, clean as a new franc + piece, displaying linen of dazzling whiteness, and wearing silk gloves and + leather gaiters. A long and massive gold chain, very vulgar-looking, was + twisted thrice round his neck, and fell in cascades into the pocket of his + waistcoat. + </p> + <p> + M. Tabaret, surnamed Tirauclair, stood at the threshold, and bowed almost + to the ground, bending his old back into an arch, and in the humblest of + voices asked, “The investigating magistrate has deigned to send for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” replied M. Daburon, adding under his breath; “and if you are a man + of any ability, there is at least nothing to indicate it in your + appearance.” + </p> + <p> + “I am here,” continued the old fellow, “completely at the service of + justice.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to know,” said M. Daburon, “whether you can discover some clue + that will put us upon the track of the assassin. I will explain the—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know enough of it!” interrupted old Tabaret. “Lecoq has told me the + principal facts, just as much as I desire to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless—” commenced the commissary of police. + </p> + <p> + “If you will permit me, I prefer to proceed without receiving any details, + in order to be more fully master of my own impressions. When one knows + another’s opinion it can’t help influencing one’s judgment. I will, if you + please, at once commence my researches, with Lecoq’s assistance.” + </p> + <p> + As the old fellow spoke, his little gray eyes dilated, and became + brilliant as carbuncles. His face reflected an internal satisfaction; even + his wrinkles seemed to laugh. His figure became erect, and his step was + almost elastic, as he darted into the inner chamber. + </p> + <p> + He remained there about half an hour; then came out running, then + re-entered and then again came out; once more he disappeared and + reappeared again almost immediately. The magistrate could not help + comparing him to a pointer on the scent, his turned-up nose even moved + about as if to discover some subtle odour left by the assassin. All the + while he talked loudly and with much gesticulation, apostrophising + himself, scolding himself, uttering little cries of triumph or + self-encouragement. He did not allow Lecoq to have a moment’s rest. He + wanted this or that or the other thing. He demanded paper and a pencil. + Then he wanted a spade; and finally he cried out for plaster of Paris, + some water and a bottle of oil. + </p> + <p> + When more than an hour had elapsed, the investigating magistrate began to + grow impatient, and asked what had become of the amateur detective. + </p> + <p> + “He is on the road,” replied the corporal, “lying flat in the mud, and + mixing some plaster in a plate. He says he has nearly finished, and that + he is coming back presently.” + </p> + <p> + He did in fact return almost instantly, joyous, triumphant, looking at + least twenty years younger. Lecoq followed him, carrying with the utmost + precaution a large basket. + </p> + <p> + “I have solved the riddle!” said Tabaret to the magistrate. “It is all + clear now, and as plain as noon-day. Lecoq, my lad, put the basket on the + table.” + </p> + <p> + Gevrol at this moment returned from his expedition equally delighted. + </p> + <p> + “I am on the track of the man with the earrings,” said he; “the boat went + down the river. I have obtained an exact description of the master + Gervais.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you discovered, M. Tabaret!” asked the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + The old fellow carefully emptied upon the table the contents of the + basket,—a big lump of clay, several large sheets of paper, and three + or four small lumps of plaster yet damp. Standing behind this table, he + presented a grotesque resemblance to those mountebank conjurers who in the + public squares juggle the money of the lookers-on. His clothes had greatly + suffered; he was covered with mud up to the chin. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” said he, at last, in a tone of affected modesty, + “robbery has had nothing to do with the crime that occupies our + attention.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! of course not!” muttered Gevrol. + </p> + <p> + “I shall prove it,” continued old Tabaret, “by the evidence. By-and-by I + shall offer my humble opinion as to the real motive. In the second place, + the assassin arrived here before half-past nine; that is to say, before + the rain fell. No more than M. Gevrol have I been able to discover traces + of muddy footsteps; but under the table, on the spot where his feet + rested, I find dust. We are thus assured of the hour. The widow did not in + the least expect her visitor. She had commenced undressing, and was + winding up her cuckoo clock when he knocked.” + </p> + <p> + “These are absolute details!” cried the commissary. + </p> + <p> + “But easily established,” replied the amateur. “You see this cuckoo clock + above the secretary; it is one of those which run fourteen or fifteen + hours at most, for I have examined it. Now it is more than probable, it is + certain, that the widow wound it up every evening before going to bed. + How, then, is it that the clock has stopped at five? Because she must have + touched it. As she was drawing the chain, the assassin knocked. In proof, + I show this chair standing under the clock, and on the seat a very plain + foot-mark. Now look at the dress of the victim; the body of it is off. In + order to open the door more quickly, she did not wait to put it on again, + but hastily threw this old shawl over her shoulders.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” exclaimed the corporal, evidently struck. + </p> + <p> + “The widow,” continued the old fellow, “knew the person who knocked. Her + haste to open the door gives rise to this conjecture; what follows proves + it. The assassin then gained admission without difficulty. He is a young + man, a little above the middle height, elegantly dressed. He wore on that + evening a high hat. He carried an umbrella, and smoked a trabucos cigar in + a holder.” + </p> + <p> + “Ridiculous!” cried Gevrol. “This is too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Too much, perhaps,” retorted old Tabaret. “At all events, it is the + truth. If you are not minute in your investigations, I cannot help it; + anyhow, I am, I search, and I find. Too much, say you? Well deign to + glance at these lumps of damp plaster. They represent the heels of the + boots worn by the assassin, of which I found a most perfect impression + near the ditch, where the key was picked up. On these sheets of paper, I + have marked in outline the imprint of the foot which I cannot take up, + because it is on some sand. Look! heel high, instep pronounced, sole small + and narrow,—an elegant boot, belonging to a foot well cared for + evidently. Look for this impression all along the path; and you will find + it again twice. Then you will find it five times repeated in the garden + where no one else had been; and these footprints prove, by the way, that + the stranger knocked not at the door, but at the window-shutter, beneath + which shone a gleam of light. At the entrance to the garden, the man leapt + to avoid a flower bed! the point of the foot, more deeply imprinted than + usual, shows it. He leapt more than two yards with ease, proving that he + is active, and therefore young.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret spoke in a low voice, clear and penetrating: and his eye + glanced from one to the other of his auditors, watching the impression he + was making. + </p> + <p> + “Does the hat astonish you, M. Gevrol?” he pursued. “Just look at the + circle traced in the dust on the marble top of the secretary. Is it + because I have mentioned his height that you are surprised? Take the + trouble to examine the tops of the wardrobes and you will see that the + assassin passed his hands across them. Therefore he is taller than I am. + Do not say that he got on a chair, for in that case, he would have seen + and would not have been obliged to feel. Are you astonished about the + umbrella? This lump of earth shows an admirable impression not only of the + end of the stick, but even of the little round piece of wood which is + always placed at the end of the silk. Perhaps you cannot get over the + statement that he smoked a cigar? Here is the end of a trabucos that I + found amongst the ashes. Has the end been bitten? No. Has it been + moistened with saliva? No. Then he who smoked it used a cigar-holder.” + </p> + <p> + Lecoq was unable to conceal his enthusiastic admiration, and noiselessly + rubbed his hands together. The commissary appeared stupefied, while M. + Daburon was delighted. Gevrol’s face, on the contrary, was sensibly + elongated. As for the corporal, he was overwhelmed. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” continued the old fellow, “follow me closely. We have traced the + young man into the house. How he explained his presence at this hour, I do + not know; this much is certain, he told the widow he had not dined. The + worthy woman was delighted to hear it, and at once set to work to prepare + a meal. This meal was not for herself; for in the cupboard I have found + the remains of her own dinner. She had dined off fish; the autopsy will + confirm the truth of this statement. Besides you can see yourselves, there + is but one glass on the table, and one knife. But who is this young man? + Evidently the widow looked upon him as a man of superior rank to her own; + for in the cupboard is a table-cloth still very clean. Did she use it? No. + For her guest she brought out a clean linen one, her very best. It is for + him this magnificent glass, a present, no doubt, and it is evident she did + not often use this knife with the ivory handle.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all true,” murmured M. Daburon, “very true.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, then we have got the young man seated. He began by drinking a glass + of wine, while the widow was putting her pan on the fire. Then, his heart + failing him, he asked for brandy, and swallowed about five small + glassfuls. After an internal struggle of ten minutes (the time it must + have taken to cook the ham and eggs as much as they are), the young man + arose and approached the widow, who was squatting down and leaning forward + over her cooking. He stabbed her twice on the back; but she was not killed + instantly. She half arose seizing the assassin by the hands; while he drew + back, lifting her suddenly, and then hurling her down in the position in + which you see her. This short struggle is indicated by the posture of the + body; for, squatting down and being struck in the back, it is naturally on + her back that she ought to have fallen. The murderer used a sharp narrow + weapon, which was, unless I am deceived, the end of a foil, sharpened, and + with the button broken off. By wiping the weapon upon his victim’s skirt, + the assassin leaves us this indication. He was not, however, hurt in the + struggle. The victim must have clung with a death-grip to his hands; but, + as he had not taken off his lavender kid gloves,—” + </p> + <p> + “Gloves! Why this is romance,” exclaimed Gevrol. + </p> + <p> + “Have you examined the dead woman’s finger-nails, M. Gevrol? No. Well, do + so, and then tell me whether I am mistaken. The woman, now dead, we come + to the object of her assassination. What did this well-dressed young + gentleman want? Money? Valuables? No! no! a hundred times no! What he + wanted, what he sought, and what he found, were papers, documents, + letters, which he knew to be in the possession of the victim. To find + them, he overturned everything, upset the cupboards, unfolded the linen, + broke open the secretary, of which he could not find the key, and even + emptied the mattress of the bed. At last he found these documents. And + then do you know what he did with them? Why, burned them, of course; not + in the fire-place, but in the little stove in the front room. His end + accomplished, what does he do next? He flies, carrying with him all that + he finds valuable, to baffle detection, by suggesting a robbery. He + wrapped everything he found worth taking in the napkin which was to have + served him at dinner, and blowing out the candle, he fled, locking the + door on the outside, and throwing the key into a ditch. And that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “M. Tabaret,” said the magistrate, “your investigation is admirable; and I + am persuaded your inferences are correct.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried Lecoq, “is he not colossal, my old Tirauclair?” + </p> + <p> + “Pyramidal!” cried Gevrol ironically. “I fear, however, your well-dressed + young man must have been just a little embarrassed in carrying a bundle + covered with a snow white napkin, which could be so easily seen from a + distance. + </p> + <p> + “He did not carry it a hundred leagues,” responded old Tabaret. “You may + well believe, that, to reach the railway station, he was not fool enough + to take the omnibus. No, he returned on foot by the shortest way, which + borders the river. Now on reaching the Seine, unless he is more knowing + than I take him to be, his first care was to throw this tell-tale bundle + into the water.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe so, M. Tirauclair?” asked Gevrol. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind making a bet on it; and the best evidence of my belief is, + that I have sent three men, under the surveillance of a gendarme, to drag + the Seine at the nearest spot from here. If they succeed in finding the + bundle, I have promised them a recompense.” + </p> + <p> + “Out of your own pocket, old enthusiast?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, M. Gevrol, out of my own pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “If they should however find this bundle!” murmured M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by the entrance of a gendarme, who said: “Here is a + soiled table-napkin, filled with plate, money, and jewels, which these men + have found; they claim the hundred francs’ reward, promised them.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret took from his pocket-book a bank note, which he handed to the + gendarme. “Now,” demanded he, crushing Gevrol with one disdainful glance, + “what thinks the investigating magistrate after this?” + </p> + <p> + “That, thanks to your remarkable penetration, we shall discover—” + </p> + <p> + He did not finish. The doctor summoned to make the post-mortem examination + entered the room. That unpleasant task accomplished, it only confirmed the + assertions and conjectures of old Tabaret. The doctor explained, as the + old man had done, the position of the body. In his opinion also, there had + been a struggle. He pointed out a bluish circle, hardly perceptible, round + the neck of the victim, produced apparently by the powerful grasp of the + murderer; finally he declared that Widow Lerouge had eaten about three + hours before being struck. + </p> + <p> + Nothing now remained except to collect the different objects which would + be useful for the prosecution, and might at a later period confound the + culprit. Old Tabaret examined with extreme care the dead woman’s + finger-nails; and, using infinite precaution, he even extracted from + behind them several small particles of kid. The largest of these pieces + was not above the twenty-fifth part of an inch in length; but all the same + their colour was easily distinguishable. He put aside also the part of the + dress upon which the assassin had wiped his weapon. These with the bundle + recovered from the Seine, and the different casts taken by the old fellow, + were all the traces the murderer had left behind him. + </p> + <p> + It was not much; but this little was enormous in the eyes of M. Daburon; + and he had strong hopes of discovering the culprit. The greatest obstacle + to success in the unravelling of mysterious crimes is in mistaking the + motive. If the researches take at the first step a false direction, they + are diverted further and further from the truth, in proportion to the + length they are followed. Thanks to old Tabaret, the magistrate felt + confident that he was in the right path. + </p> + <p> + Night had come on. M. Daburon had now nothing more to do at La Jonchere; + but Gevrol, who still clung to his own opinion of the guilt of the man + with the rings in his ears, declared he would remain at Bougival. He + determined to employ the evening in visiting the different wine shops, and + finding if possible new witnesses. At the moment of departure, after the + commissary and the entire party had wished M. Daburon good-night, the + latter asked M. Tabaret to accompany him. + </p> + <p> + “I was about to solicit that honour,” replied the old fellow. They set out + together; and naturally the crime which had been discovered, and with + which they were mutually preoccupied, formed the subject of their + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we, or shall we not, ascertain the antecedents of this woman!” + repeated old Tabaret. “All depends upon that now!” + </p> + <p> + “We shall ascertain them, if the grocer’s wife has told the truth,” + replied M. Daburon. “If the husband of Widow Lerouge was a sailor, and if + her son Jacques is in the navy, the minister of marine can furnish + information that will soon lead to their discovery. I will write to the + minister this very night.” + </p> + <p> + They reached the station at Rueil, and took their places in the train. + They were fortunate enough to secure a 1st class carriage to themselves. + But old Tabaret was no longer disposed for conversation. He reflected, he + sought, he combined; and in his face might easily be read the working of + his thoughts. M. Daburon watched him curiously and felt singularly + attracted by this eccentric old man, whose very original taste had led him + to devote his services to the secret police of the Rue de Jerusalem. + </p> + <p> + “M Tabaret,” he suddenly asked, “have you been long associated with the + police?” + </p> + <p> + “Nine years, M. Daburon, more than nine years; and permit me to confess I + am a little surprised that you have never before heard of me.” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly knew you by reputation,” answered M. Daburon; “but your name + did not occur to me, and it was only in consequence of hearing you praised + that I had the excellent idea of asking your assistance. But what, I + should like to know, is your reason for adopting this employment?” + </p> + <p> + “Sorrow, sir, loneliness, weariness. Ah! I have not always been happy!” + </p> + <p> + “I have been told, though, that you are rich.” + </p> + <p> + The old fellow heaved a deep sigh, which revealed the most cruel + deceptions. “I am well off, sir,” he replied; “but I have not always been + so. Until I was forty-five years old, my life was a series of absurd and + useless privations. I had a father who wasted my youth, ruined my life, + and made me the most pitiable of human creatures.” + </p> + <p> + There are men who can never divest themselves of their professional + habits. M. Daburon was at all times and seasons more or less an + investigating magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “How, M. Tabaret,” he inquired, “your father the author of all your + misfortunes?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, yes, sir! I have forgiven him at last; but I used to curse him + heartily. In the first transports of my resentment, I heaped upon his + memory all the insults that can be inspired by the most violent hatred, + when I learnt,—But I will confide my history to you, M. Daburon. + When I was five and twenty years of age. I was earning two thousand francs + a year, as a clerk at the Monte de Piete. One morning my father entered my + lodging, and abruptly announced to me that he was ruined, and without food + or shelter. He appeared in despair, and talked of killing himself. I loved + my father. Naturally, I strove to reassure him; I boasted of my situation, + and explained to him at some length, that, while I earned the means for + living, he should want for nothing; and, to commence, I insisted that + henceforth we should live together. No sooner said than done, and during + twenty years I was encumbered with the old—” + </p> + <p> + “What! you repent of your admirable conduct, M. Tabaret?” + </p> + <p> + “Do I repent of it! That is to say he deserved to be poisoned by the bread + I gave him.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was unable to repress a gesture of surprise, which did not + escape the old fellow’s notice. + </p> + <p> + “Hear, before you condemn me,” he continued. “There was I at twenty-five, + imposing upon myself the severest privations for the sake of my father,—no + more friends, no more flirtations, nothing. In the evenings, to augment + our scanty revenues, I worked at copying law papers for a notary. I denied + myself even the luxury of tobacco. Notwithstanding this, the old fellow + complained without ceasing; he regretted his lost fortune; he must have + pocket-money, with which to buy this, or that; my utmost exertions failed + to satisfy him. Ah, heaven alone knows what I suffered! I was not born to + live alone and grow old, like a dog. I longed for the pleasures of a home + and a family. My dream was to marry, to adore a good wife, by whom I might + be loved a little, and to see innocent healthy little ones gambolling + about my knees. But pshaw! when such thoughts entered my heart and forced + a tear or two from my eyes, I rebelled against myself. I said: ‘My lad, + when you earn but three thousand francs a year, and have an old and + cherished father to support, it is your duty to stifle such desires, and + remain a bachelor.’ And yet I met a young girl. It is thirty years now + since that time; well! just look at me, I am sure I am blushing as red as + a tomato. Her name was Hortense. Who can tell what has become of her? She + was beautiful and poor. Well, I was quite an old man when my father died, + the wretch, the—” + </p> + <p> + “M. Tabaret!” interrupted the magistrate, “for shame, M. Tabaret!” + </p> + <p> + “But I have already told you, I have forgiven him, sir. However, you will + soon understand my anger. On the day of his death, looking in his + secretary, I found a memorandum of an income of twenty thousand francs!” + </p> + <p> + “How so! was he rich?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, very rich; for that was not all: he owned near Orleans a property + leased for six thousand francs a year. He owned, besides, the house I now + live in, where we lived together; and I, fool, sot, imbecile, stupid + animal that I was, used to pay the rent every three months to the + concierge!” + </p> + <p> + “That was too much!” M. Daburon could not help saying. + </p> + <p> + “Was it not, sir? I was robbing myself of my own money! To crown his + hypocrisy, he left a will wherein he declared, in the name of Holy + Trinity, that he had no other aim in view, in thus acting, than my own + advantage. He wished, so he wrote, to habituate me to habits of good order + and economy, and keep me from the commission of follies. And I was + forty-five years old, and for twenty years I had been reproaching myself + if ever I spent a single sou uselessly. In short, he had speculated on my + good heart, he had . . . Bah! on my word, it is enough to disgust the + human race with filial piety!” + </p> + <p> + M. Tabaret’s anger, albeit very real and justified, was so highly + ludicrous, that M. Daburon had much difficulty to restrain his laughter, + in spite of the real sadness of the recital. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” said he, “this fortune must have given you pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, sir, it came too late. Of what avail to have the bread when + one has no longer the teeth? The marriageable age had passed. I resigned + my situation, however, to make way for some one poorer than myself. At the + end of a month I was sick and tired of life; and, to replace the + affections that had been denied me, I resolved to give myself a passion, a + hobby, a mania. I became a collector of books. You think, sir, perhaps + that to take an interest in books a man must have studied, must be + learned?” + </p> + <p> + “I know, dear M. Tabaret, that he must have money. I am acquainted with an + illustrious bibliomaniac who may be able to read, but who is most + certainly unable to sign his own name.” + </p> + <p> + “This is very likely. I, too, can read; and I read all the books I bought. + I collected all I could find which related, no matter how little, to the + police. Memoirs, reports, pamphlets, speeches, letters, novels,—all + suited me; and I devoured them. So much so, that little by little I became + attracted towards the mysterious power which, from the obscurity of the + Rue de Jerusalem, watches over and protects society, which penetrates + everywhere, lifts the most impervious veils, sees through every plot, + divines what is kept hidden, knows exactly the value of a man, the price + of a conscience, and which accumulates in its portfolios the most + terrible, as well as the most shameful secrets! In reading the memoirs of + celebrated detectives, more attractive to me than the fables of our best + authors I became inspired by an enthusiastic admiration for those men, so + keen scented, so subtle, flexible as steel, artful and penetrating, + fertile in expedients, who follow crime on the trail, armed with the law, + through the rushwood of legality, as relentlessly as the savages of Cooper + pursue their enemies in the depths of the American forests. The desire + seized me to become a wheel of this admirable machine,—a small + assistance in the punishment of crime and the triumph of innocence. I made + the essay; and I found I did not succeed too badly.” + </p> + <p> + “And does this employment please you?” + </p> + <p> + “I owe to it, sir, my liveliest enjoyments. Adieu weariness! since I have + abandoned the search for books to the search for men. I shrug my shoulders + when I see a foolish fellow pay twenty-five francs for the right of + hunting a hare. What a prize! Give me the hunting of a man! That, at + least, calls the faculties into play, and the victory is not inglorious! + The game in my sport is equal to the hunter; they both possess + intelligence, strength, and cunning. The arms are nearly equal. Ah! if + people but knew the excitement of these games of hide and seek which are + played between the criminal and the detective, everybody would be wanting + employment at the office of the Rue de Jerusalem. The misfortune is, that + the art is becoming lost. Great crimes are now so rare. The race of strong + fearless criminals has given place to the mob of vulgar pick-pockets. The + few rascals who are heard of occasionally are as cowardly as foolish. They + sign their names to their misdeeds, and even leave their cards lying + about. There is no merit in catching them. Their crime found out, you have + only to go and arrest them,—” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me, though,” interrupted M. Daburon, smiling, “that our + assassin is not such a bungler.” + </p> + <p> + “He, sir, is an exception; and I shall have greater delight in tracking + him. I will do everything for that, I will even compromise myself if + necessary. For I ought to confess, M. Daburon,” added he, slightly + embarrassed, “that I do not boast to my friends of my exploits; I even + conceal them as carefully as possible. They would perhaps shake hands with + me less warmly did they know that Tirauclair and Tabaret were one and the + same.” + </p> + <p> + Insensibly the crime became again the subject of conversation. It was + agreed, that, the first thing in the morning, M. Tabaret should install + himself at Bougival. He boasted that in eight days he should examine all + the people round about. On his side M. Daburon promised to keep him + advised of the least evidence that transpired, and recall him, if by any + chance he should procure the papers of Widow Lerouge. + </p> + <p> + “To you, M. Tabaret,” said the magistrate in conclusion, “I shall be + always at home. If you have any occasion to speak to me, do not hesitate + to come at night as well as during the day. I rarely go out, and you will + always find me either at my home, Rue Jacob, or in my office at the Palais + de Justice. I will give orders for your admittance whenever you present + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The train entered the station at this moment. M. Daburon, having called a + cab, offered a seat to M. Tabaret. The old fellow declined. + </p> + <p> + “It is not worth while,” he replied, “for I live, as I have had the honour + of telling you, in the Rue St. Lazare, only a few steps from here.” + </p> + <p> + “Till to-morrow, then!” said M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + “Till to-morrow,” replied old Tabaret; and he added, “We shall succeed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + M. Tabaret’s house was in fact not more than four minutes’ walk from the + railway terminus of St. Lazare. It was a fine building carefully kept, and + which probably yielded a fine income though the rents were not too high. + The old fellow found plenty of room in it. He occupied on the first floor, + overlooking the street, some handsome apartments, well arranged and + comfortably furnished, the principal of which was his collection of books. + He lived very simply from taste, as well as habit, waited on by an old + servant, to whom on great occasions the concierge lent a helping hand. + </p> + <p> + No one in the house had the slightest suspicion of the avocations of the + proprietor. Besides, even the humblest agent of police would be expected + to possess a degree of acuteness for which no one gave M. Tabaret credit. + Indeed, they mistook for incipient idiocy his continual abstraction of + mind. + </p> + <p> + It is true that all who knew him remarked the singularity of his habits. + His frequent absences from home had given to his proceedings an appearance + at once eccentric and mysterious. Never was young libertine more irregular + in his habits than this old man. He came or failed to come home to his + meals, ate it mattered not what or when. He went out at every hour of the + day and night, often slept abroad, and even disappeared for entire weeks + at a time. Then too he received the strangest visitors, odd looking men of + suspicious appearance, and fellows of ill-favoured and sinister aspect. + </p> + <p> + This irregular way of living had robbed the old fellow of much + consideration. Many believed they saw in him a shameless libertine, who + squandered his income in disreputable places. They would remark to one + another, “Is it not disgraceful, a man of his age?” + </p> + <p> + He was aware of all this tittle-tattle, and laughed at it. This did not, + however, prevent many of his tenants from seeking his society and paying + court to him. They would invite him to dinner, but he almost invariably + refused. + </p> + <p> + He seldom visited but one person of the house, but with that one he was + very intimate, so much so indeed, that he was more often in her apartment, + than in his own. She was a widow lady, who for fifteen years had occupied + an apartment on the third floor. Her name was Madame Gerdy, and she lived + with her son Noel, whom she adored. + </p> + <p> + Noel Gerdy was a man thirty-three years of age, but looking older; tall + and well made, with a noble and intelligent face, large black eyes, and + black hair which curled naturally. An advocate, he passed for having great + talent, and greater industry, and had already gained a certain amount of + notoriety. He was an obstinate worker, cold and meditative, though devoted + to his profession, and affected, with some ostentation, perhaps, a great + rigidity of principle, and austerity of manners. + </p> + <p> + In Madame Gerdy’s apartment, old Tabaret felt himself quite at home. He + considered her as a relation, and looked upon Noel as a son. In spite of + her fifty years, he had often thought of asking the hand of this charming + widow, and was restrained less by the fear of a refusal than its + consequence. To propose and to be rejected would sever the existing + relations, so pleasurable to him. However, he had by his will, which was + deposited with his notary constituted this young advocate his sole + legatee; with the single condition of founding an annual prize of two + thousand francs to be bestowed on the police agent who during the year had + unravelled the most obscure and mysterious crime. + </p> + <p> + Short as was the distance to his house, old Tabaret was a good quarter of + an hour in reaching it. On leaving M. Daburon his thoughts reverted to the + scene of the murder; and, so blinded was the old fellow to external + objects, that he moved along the street, first jostled on the right, then + on the left, by the busy passers by, advancing one step and receding two. + He repeated to himself for the fiftieth time the words uttered by Widow + Lerouge, as reported by the milk-woman. “If I wished for any more, I could + have it.” + </p> + <p> + “All is in that,” murmured he. “Widow Lerouge possessed some important + secret, which persons rich and powerful had the strongest motives for + concealing. She had them in her power, and that was her fortune. She made + them sing to her tune; she probably went too far, and so they suppressed + her. But of what nature was this secret, and how did she become possessed + of it? Most likely she was in her youth a servant in some great family; + and whilst there, she saw, heard, or discovered, something—What? + Evidently there is a woman at the bottom of it. Did she assist her + mistress in some love intrigue? What more probable? And in that case the + affair becomes even more complicated. Not only must the woman be found but + her lover also; for it is the lover who has moved in this affair. He is, + or I am greatly deceived, a man of noble birth. A person of inferior rank + would have simply hired an assassin. This man has not hung back; he + himself has struck the blow and by that means avoiding the indiscretion or + the stupidity of an accomplice. He is a courageous rascal, full of + audacity and coolness, for the crime has been admirably executed. The + fellow left nothing behind of a nature to compromise him seriously. But + for me, Gevrol, believing in the robbery, would have seen nothing. + Fortunately, however, I was there. But yet it can hardly be that,” + continued the old man. “It must be something worse than a mere love + affair.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret entered the porch of the house. The concierge seated by the + window of his lodge saw him as he passed beneath the gas lamp. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said he, “the proprietor has returned at last.” + </p> + <p> + “So he has,” replied his wife, “but it looks as though his princess would + have nothing to do with him to-night. He seems more loose than ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not positively indecent,” said the concierge, “and isn’t he in a + state! His fair ones do treat him well! One of these fine mornings I shall + have to take him to a lunatic asylum in a straight waistcoat.” + </p> + <p> + “Look at him now!” interrupted his wife, “just look at him now, in the + middle of the courtyard!” + </p> + <p> + The old fellow had stopped at the extremity of the porch. He had taken off + his hat, and, while talking to himself, gesticulated violently. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he, “I have not yet got hold of the clue, I am getting near it; + but have not yet found it out.” + </p> + <p> + He mounted the staircase, and rang his bell, forgetting that he had his + latch-key in his pocket. His housekeeper opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “What, is it you, sir,” said she, “and at this hour!” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that you say?” asked the old fellow. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” replied the housekeeper, “that it is more than half-past eight + o’clock. I thought you were not coming back this evening. Have you at + least dined?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, fortunately I have kept your dinner warm. You can sit down to it at + once.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret took his place at the table, and helped himself to soup, but + mounting his hobby-horse again, he forgot to eat, and remained, his spoon + in the air, as though suddenly struck by an idea. + </p> + <p> + “He is certainly touched in the head,” thought Manette, the housekeeper. + “Look at that stupid expression. Who in his senses would lead the life he + does?” She touched him on the shoulder, and bawled in his ear, as if he + were deaf,—“You do not eat. Are you not hungry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” muttered he, trying mechanically to escape the voice that + sounded in his ears, “I am very hungry, for since the morning I have been + obliged—” He interrupted himself, remaining with his mouth open, his + eyes fixed on vacancy. + </p> + <p> + “You were obliged—?” repeated Manette. + </p> + <p> + “Thunder!” cried he, raising his clenched fists towards the ceiling,—“heaven’s + thunder! I have it!” + </p> + <p> + His movement was so violent and sudden that the housekeeper was a little + alarmed, and retired to the further end of the dining-room, near the door. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued he, “it is certain there is a child!” + </p> + <p> + Manette approached him quickly. “A child?” she asked in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “What next!” cried he in a furious tone. “What are you doing there? Has + your hardihood come to this that you pick up the words which escape me? Do + me the pleasure to retire to your kitchen, and stay there until I call + you.” + </p> + <p> + “He is going crazy!” thought Manette, as she disappeared very quickly. + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret resumed his seat. He hastily swallowed his soup which was + completely cold. “Why,” said he to himself, “did I not think of it before? + Poor humanity! I am growing old, and my brain is worn out. For it is clear + as day; the circumstances all point to that conclusion.” + </p> + <p> + He rang the bell placed on the table beside him; the servant reappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Bring the roast,” he said, “and leave me to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued he furiously carving a leg of Presale mutton—“Yes, + there is a child, and here is his history! The Widow Lerouge, when a young + woman, is in the service of a great lady, immensely rich. Her husband, a + sailor, probably had departed on a long voyage. The lady had a lover—found + herself enciente. She confided in the Widow Lerouge, and, with her + assistance, accomplished a clandestine accouchement.” + </p> + <p> + He called again. + </p> + <p> + “Manette, the dessert, and get out!” + </p> + <p> + Certainly such a master was unworthy of so excellent a cook as Manette. He + would have been puzzled to say what he had eaten for diner, or even what + he was eating at this moment; it was a preserve of pears. + </p> + <p> + “But what,” murmured he, “has become of the child? Has it been destroyed? + No; for the Widow Lerouge, an accomplice in an infanticide, would be no + longer formidable. The child has been preserved, and confided to the care + of our widow, by whom it has been reared. They have been able to take the + infant away from her, but not the proofs of its birth and its existence. + Here is the opening. The father is the man of the fine carriage; the + mother is the lady who came with the handsome young man. Ha! ha! I can + well believe the dear old dame wanted for nothing. She had a secret worth + a farm in Brie. But the old lady was extravagant; her expenses and her + demands have increased year by year. Poor humanity! She has leaned upon + the staff too heavily, and broken it. She has threatened. They have been + frightened, and said, ‘Let there be an end of this!’ But who has charged + himself with the commission? The papa? No; he is too old. By jupiter! The + son,—the child himself! He would save his mother, the brave boy! He + has slain the witness and burnt the proofs!” + </p> + <p> + Manette all this time, her ear to the keyhole, listened with all her soul; + from time to time she gleaned a word, an oath, the noise of a blow upon + the table; but that was all. + </p> + <p> + “For certain,” thought she, “his women are running in his head.” + </p> + <p> + Her curiosity overcame her prudence. Hearing no more, she ventured to open + the door a little way. The old fellow caught her in the very act. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur wants his coffee?” stammered she timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you may bring it to me,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + He attempted to swallow his coffee at a gulp, but scalded himself so + severely that the pain brought him suddenly from speculation to reality. + </p> + <p> + “Thunder!” growled he; “but it is hot! Devil take the case! it has set me + beside myself. They are right when they say I am too enthusiastic. But who + amongst the whole lot of them could have, by the sole exercise of + observation and reason, established the whole history of the + assassination? Certainly not Gevrol, poor man! Won’t he feel vexed and + humiliated, being altogether out of it. Shall I seek M. Daburon? No, not + yet. The night is necessary to me to sift to the bottom all the + particulars, and arrange my ideas systematically. But, on the other hand, + if I sit here all alone, this confounded case will keep me in a fever of + speculation, and as I have just eaten a great deal, I may get an attack of + indigestion. My faith! I will call upon Madame Gerdy: she has been ailing + for some days past. I will have a chat with Noel, and that will change the + course of my ideas.” + </p> + <p> + He got up from the table, put on his overcoat, and took his hat and cane. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going out, sir?” asked Manette. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall you be late?” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will return to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know.” + </p> + <p> + One minute later, M. Tabaret was ringing his friend’s bell. + </p> + <p> + Madame Gerdy lived in respectable style. She possessed sufficient for her + wants; and her son’s practice, already large, had made them almost rich. + She lived very quietly, and with the exception of one or two friends, whom + Noel occasionally invited to dinner, received very few visitors. During + more than fifteen years that M. Tabaret came familiarly to the apartments, + he had only met the cure of the parish, one of Noel’s old professors, and + Madame Gerdy’s brother, a retired colonel. When these three visitors + happened to call on the same evening, an event somewhat rare, they played + at a round game called Boston; on other evenings piquet or all-fours was + the rule. Noel, however, seldom remained in the drawing-room, but shut + himself up after dinner in his study, which with his bedroom formed a + separate apartment to his mother’s, and immersed himself in his law + papers. He was supposed to work far into the night. Often in winter his + lamp was not extinguished before dawn. + </p> + <p> + Mother and son absolutely lived for one another, as all who knew them took + pleasure in repeating. They loved and honoured Noel for the care he + bestowed upon his mother, for his more than filial devotion, for the + sacrifices which all supposed he made in living at his age like an old + man. + </p> + <p> + The neighbours were in the habit of contrasting the conduct of this + exemplary young man with that of M. Tabaret, the incorrigible old rake, + the hairless dangler. + </p> + <p> + As for Madame Gerdy, she saw nothing but her son in all the world. Her + love had actually taken the form of worship. In Noel she believed she saw + united all the physical and moral perfections. To her he seemed of a + superior order to the rest of humanity. If he spoke, she was silent and + listened: his word was a command, his advice a decree of Providence. To + care for her son, study his tastes, anticipate his wishes, was the sole + aim of her life. She was a mother. + </p> + <p> + “Is Madame Gerdy visible?” asked old Tabaret of the girl who opened the + door; and, without waiting for an answer, he walked into the room like a + man assured that his presence cannot be inopportune, and ought to be + agreeable. + </p> + <p> + A single candle lighted the drawing-room, which was not in its accustomed + order. The small marble-top table, usually in the middle of the room, had + been rolled into a corner. Madame Gerdy’s large arm-chair was near the + window; a newspaper, all crumpled, lay before it on the carpet. + </p> + <p> + The amateur detective took in the whole at a glance. + </p> + <p> + “Has any accident happened?” he asked of the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak of it, sir: we have just had a fright! oh, such a fright!” + </p> + <p> + “What was it? tell me quickly!” + </p> + <p> + “You know that madame has been ailing for the last month. She has eaten I + may say almost nothing. This morning, even, she said to me—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! but this evening?” + </p> + <p> + “After her dinner, madame went into the drawing-room as usual. She sat + down and took up one of M. Noel’s newspapers. Scarcely had she begun to + read, when she uttered a great cry,—oh, a terrible cry! We hastened + to her; madame had fallen on to the floor, as one dead. M. Noel raised her + in his arms, and carried her into her room. I wanted to fetch the doctor, + sir, but he said there was no need; he knew what was the matter with her.” + </p> + <p> + “And how is she now?” + </p> + <p> + “She has come to her senses; that is to say, I suppose so; for M. Noel + made me leave the room. All that I do know is, that a little while ago she + was talking, and talking very loudly too, for I heard her. Ah, sir, it is + all the same, very strange!” + </p> + <p> + “What is strange?” + </p> + <p> + “What I heard Madame Gerdy say to M. Noel.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah ha! my girl!” sneered old Tabaret; “so you listen at key-holes, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I assure you; but madame cried out like one lost. She said,—” + </p> + <p> + “My girl!” interrupted old Tabaret severely, “one always hears wrong + through key-holes. Ask Manette if that is not so.” + </p> + <p> + The poor girl, thoroughly confused, sought to excuse herself. + </p> + <p> + “Enough, enough!” said the old man. “Return to your work: you need not + disturb M. Noel; I can wait for him very well here.” + </p> + <p> + And satisfied with the reproof he had administered, he picked up the + newspaper, and seated himself beside the fire, placing the candle near him + so as to read with ease. A minute had scarcely elapsed when he in his turn + bounded in his chair, and stifled a cry of instinctive terror and + surprise. These were the first words that met his eye. + </p> + <p> + “A horrible crime has plunged the village of La Jonchere in consternation. + A poor widow, named Lerouge, who enjoyed the general esteem and love of + the community, has been assassinated in her home. The officers of the law + have made the usual preliminary investigations, and everything leads us to + believe that the police are already on the track of the author of this + dastardly crime.” + </p> + <p> + “Thunder!” said old Tabaret to himself, “can it be that Madame Gerdy?—” + </p> + <p> + The idea but flashed across his mind; he fell back into his chair, and, + shrugging his shoulders, murmured,— + </p> + <p> + “Really this affair of La Jonchere is driving me out of my senses! I can + think of nothing but this Widow Lerouge. I shall be seeing her in + everything now.” + </p> + <p> + In the mean while, an uncontrollable curiosity made him peruse the entire + newspaper. He found nothing with the exception of these lines, to justify + or explain even the slightest emotion. + </p> + <p> + “It is an extremely singular coincidence, at the same time,” thought the + incorrigible police agent. Then, remarking that the newspaper was slightly + torn at the lower part, and crushed, as if by a convulsive grasp, he + repeated,— + </p> + <p> + “It is strange!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the door of Madame Gerdy’s room opened, and Noel appeared + on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + Without doubt the accident to his mother had greatly excited him; for he + was very pale and his countenance, ordinarily so calm, wore an expression + of profound sorrow. He appeared surprised to see old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear Noel!” cried the old fellow. “Calm my inquietude. How is your + mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Gerdy is as well as can be expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Gerdy!” repeated the old fellow with an air of astonishment; but + he continued, “It is plain you have been seriously alarmed.” + </p> + <p> + “In truth,” replied the advocate, seating himself, “I have experienced a + rude shock.” + </p> + <p> + Noel was making visibly the greatest efforts to appear calm, to listen to + the old fellow, and to answer him. Old Tabaret, as much disquieted on his + side, perceived nothing. + </p> + <p> + “At least, my dear boy,” said he, “tell me how this happened?” + </p> + <p> + The young man hesitated a moment, as if consulting with himself. No doubt + he was unprepared for this point blank question, and knew not what answer + to make; at last he replied,— + </p> + <p> + “Madame Gerdy has suffered a severe shock in learning from a paragraph in + this newspaper that a woman in whom she takes a strong interest has been + assassinated.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” replied old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + The old fellow was in a fever of embarrassment. He wanted to question + Noel, but was restrained by the fear of revealing the secret of his + association with the police. Indeed he had almost betrayed himself by the + eagerness with which he exclaimed,— + </p> + <p> + “What! your mother knew the Widow Lerouge?” + </p> + <p> + By an effort he restrained himself, and with difficulty dissembled his + satisfaction; for he was delighted to find himself so unexpectedly on the + trace of the antecedents of the victim of La Jonchere. + </p> + <p> + “She was,” continued Noel, “the slave of Madame Gerdy, devoted to her in + every way! She would have sacrificed herself for her at a sign from her + hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you, my dear friend, you knew this poor woman!” + </p> + <p> + “I had not seen her for a very long time,” replied Noel, whose voice + seemed broken by emotion, “but I knew her well. I ought even to say I + loved her tenderly. She was my nurse.” + </p> + <p> + “She, this woman?” stammered old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + This time he was thunderstruck. Widow Lerouge Noel’s nurse? He was most + unfortunate. Providence had evidently chosen him for its instrument, and + was leading him by the hand. He was about to obtain all the information, + which half an hour ago he had almost despaired of procuring. He remained + seated before Noel amazed and speechless. Yet he understood, that, unless + he would compromise himself, he must speak. + </p> + <p> + “It is a great misfortune,” he murmured at last. + </p> + <p> + “What it is for Madame Gerdy, I cannot say,” replied Noel with a gloomy + air; “but, for me, it is an overwhelming misfortune! I am struck to the + heart by the blow which has slain this poor woman. Her death, M. Tabaret, + has annihilated all my dreams of the future, and probably overthrown my + most cherished hopes. I had to avenge myself for cruel injuries; her death + breaks the weapon in my hands, and reduces me to despair, to impotence. + Alas! I am indeed unfortunate.” + </p> + <p> + “You unfortunate?” cried old Tabaret, singularly affected by his dear + Noel’s sadness. “In heaven’s name, what has happened to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I suffer,” murmured the advocate, “and very cruelly. Not only do I fear + that the injustice is irreparable; but here am I totally without defence + delivered over to the shafts of calumny. I may be accused of inventing + falsehood, of being an ambitious intriguer, having no regard for truth, no + scruples of conscience.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret was puzzled. What connection could possibly exist between + Noel’s honour and the assassination at La Jonchere? His brain was in a + whirl. A thousand troubled and confused ideas jostled one another in + inextricable confusion. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Noel,” said he, “compose yourself. Who would believe any + calumny uttered about you? Take courage, have you not friends? am I not + here? Have confidence, tell me what troubles you, and it will be strange, + indeed if between us two—” + </p> + <p> + The advocate started to his feet, impressed by a sudden resolution. + </p> + <p> + “Well! yes,” interrupted he, “yes, you shall know all. In fact, I am tired + of carrying all alone a secret that is stifling me. The part I have been + playing irritates and wearies me. I have need of a friend to console me. I + require a counsellor whose voice will encourage me, for one is a bad judge + of his own cause, and this crime has plunged me into an abyss of + hesitations.” + </p> + <p> + “You know,” replied M. Tabaret kindly, “that I regard you as my own son. + Do not scruple to let me serve you.” + </p> + <p> + “Know then,” commenced the advocate,—“but no, not here: what I have + to say must not be overheard. Let us go into my study.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + When Noel and old Tabaret were seated face to face in Noel’s study, and + the door had been carefully shut, the old fellow felt uneasy, and said: + “What if your mother should require anything.” + </p> + <p> + “If Madame Gerdy rings,” replied the young man drily, “the servant will + attend to her.” + </p> + <p> + This indifference, this cold disdain, amazed old Tabaret, accustomed as he + was to the affectionate relations always existing between mother and son. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven’s sake, Noel,” said he, “calm yourself. Do not allow yourself + to be overcome by a feeling of irritation. You have, I see, some little + pique against your mother, which you will have forgotten to-morrow. Don’t + speak of her in this icy tone; but tell me what you mean by calling her + Madame Gerdy?” + </p> + <p> + “What I mean?” rejoined the advocate in a hollow tone,—“what I + mean?” + </p> + <p> + Then rising from his arm-chair, he took several strides about the room, + and, returning to his place near the old fellow, said,— + </p> + <p> + “Because, M. Tabaret, Madame Gerdy is not my mother!” + </p> + <p> + This sentence fell like a heavy blow on the head of the amateur detective. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he said, in the tone one assumes when rejecting an absurd + proposition, “do you really know what you are saying, Noel? Is it + credible? Is it probable?” + </p> + <p> + “It is improbable,” replied Noel with a peculiar emphasis which was + habitual to him: “it is incredible, if you will; but yet it is true. That + is to say, for thirty-three years, ever since my birth, this woman has + played a most marvellous and unworthy comedy, to ennoble and enrich her + son,—for she has a son,—at my expense!” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” commenced old Tabaret, who in the background of the picture + presented by this singular revelation saw again the phantom of the + murdered Widow Lerouge. + </p> + <p> + But Noel heard not, and seemed hardly in a state to hear. The young man, + usually so cold, so self-contained, could no longer control his anger. At + the sound of his own voice, he became more and more animated, as a good + horse might at the jingling of his harness. + </p> + <p> + “Was ever man,” continued he, “more cruelly deceived, more miserably + duped, than I have been! I, who loved this woman, who knew not how to show + my affection for her, who, for her sake, sacrificed my youth! How she must + have laughed at me! Her infamy dates from the moment when for the first + time she took me on her knees; and, until these few days past, she has + sustained without faltering her execrable role. Her love for me was + nothing but hypocrisy! her devotion, falsehood! her caresses, lies! And I + adored her! Ah! why can I not take back all the embraces I bestowed on her + in exchange for her Judas kisses? And for what was all this heroism of + deception, this caution, this duplicity? To betray me more securely, to + despoil me, to rob me, to give to her bastard all that lawfully + appertained to me; my name, a noble name, my fortune, a princely + inheritance!” + </p> + <p> + “We are getting near it!” thought old Tabaret, who was fast relapsing into + the colleague of M. Gevrol; then aloud he said, “This is very serious, all + that you have been saying, my dear Noel, terribly serious. We must believe + Madame Gerdy possessed of an amount of audacity and ability rarely to be + met with in a woman. She must have been assisted, advised, compelled + perhaps. Who have been her accomplices? She could never have managed this + unaided; perhaps her husband himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Her husband!” interrupted the advocate, with a laugh. “Ah! you too have + believed her a widow. Pshaw! She never had a husband, the defunct Gerdy + never existed. I was a bastard, dear M. Tabaret, very much a bastard; + Noel, son of the girl Gerdy and an unknown father!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried the old fellow; “that then was the reason why your marriage + with Mademoiselle Levernois was broken off four years ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my friend, that was the reason. And what misfortunes might have been + averted by this marriage with a young girl whom I loved! However I did not + complain to her whom I then called my mother. She wept, she accused + herself, she seemed ready to die of grief: and I, poor fool! I consoled + her as best I could, I dried her tears, and excused her in her own eyes. + No, there was no husband. Do such women as she have husbands? She was my + father’s mistress; and, on the day when he had had enough of her, he took + up his hat and threw her three hundred thousand francs, the price of the + pleasures she had given him.” + </p> + <p> + Noel would probably have continued much longer to pour forth his furious + denunciations; but M. Tabaret stopped him. The old fellow felt he was on + the point of learning a history in every way similar to that which he had + imagined; and his impatience to know whether he had guessed aright, almost + caused him to forget to express any sympathy for his friend’s misfortunes. + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” said he, “do not let us digress. You ask me for advice; and + I am perhaps the best adviser you could have chosen. Come, then, to the + point. How have you learned this? Have you any proofs? where are they?” + </p> + <p> + The decided tone in which the old fellow spoke, should no doubt, have + awakened Noel’s attention; but he did not notice it. He had not leisure to + reflect. He therefore answered,— + </p> + <p> + “I have known the truth for three weeks past. I made the discovery by + chance. I have important moral proofs; but they are mere presumptive + evidence. A word from Widow Lerouge, one single word, would have rendered + them decisive. This word she cannot now pronounce, since they have killed + her; but she had said it to me. Now, Madame Gerdy will deny all. I know + her; with her head on the block, she will deny it. My father doubtless + will turn against me. I am certain, and I possess proofs; now this crime + makes my certitude but a vain boast, and renders my proofs null and void!” + </p> + <p> + “Explain it all to me,” said old Tabaret after a pause—“all, you + understand. We old ones are sometimes able to give good advice. We will + decide what’s to be done afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “Three weeks ago,” commenced Noel, “searching for some old documents, I + opened Madame Gerdy’s secretary. Accidentally I displaced one of the small + shelves: some papers tumbled out, and a packet of letters fell in front of + my eyes. A mechanical impulse, which I cannot explain, prompted me to + untie the string, and, impelled by an invincible curiosity, I read the + first letter which came to my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “You did wrong,” remarked M. Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “Be it so; anyhow I read. At the end of ten lines, I was convinced that + these letters were from my father, whose name, Madame Gerdy, in spite of + my prayers, had always hidden from me. You can understand my emotion. I + carried off the packet, shut myself up in this room, and devoured the + correspondence from beginning to end.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have been cruelly punished my poor boy!” + </p> + <p> + “It is true; but who in my position could have resisted? These letters + have given me great pain; but they afford the proof of what I just now + told you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have at least preserved these letters?” + </p> + <p> + “I have them here, M. Tabaret,” replied Noel, “and, that you may + understand the case in which I have requested your advice, I am going to + read them to you.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate opened one of the drawers of his bureau, pressed an invisible + spring, and from a hidden receptacle constructed in the thick upper shelf, + he drew out a bundle of letters. “You understand, my friend,” he resumed, + “that I will spare you all insignificant details, which, however, add + their own weight to the rest. I am only going to deal with the more + important facts, treating directly of the affair.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret nestled in his arm-chair, burning with curiosity; his face and + his eyes expressing the most anxious attention. After a selection, which + he was some time in making, the advocate opened a letter, and commenced + reading in a voice which trembled at times, in spite of his efforts to + render it calm. + </p> + <p> + “‘My dearly loved Valerie,’— + </p> + <p> + “Valerie,” said he, “is Madame Gerdy.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know. Do not interrupt yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Noel then resumed. + </p> + <p> + “‘My dearly loved Valerie, + </p> + <p> + “‘This is a happy day. This morning I received your darling letter, I have + covered it with kisses, I have re-read it a hundred times; and now it has + gone to join the others here upon my heart. This letter, oh, my love! has + nearly killed me with joy. You were not deceived, then; it was true! + Heaven has blessed our love. We shall have a son. + </p> + <p> + “‘I shall have a son, the living image of my adored Valerie! Oh! why are + we separated by such an immense distance? Why have I not wings that I + might fly to your feet and fall into your arms, full of the sweetest + voluptuousness! No! never as at this moment have I cursed the fatal union + imposed upon me by an inexorable family, whom my tears could not move. I + cannot help hating this woman, who, in spite of me bears my name, innocent + victim though she is of the barbarity of our parents. And, to complete my + misery, she too will soon render me a father. Who can describe my sorrow + when I compare the fortunes of these two children? + </p> + <p> + “‘The one, the son of the object of my tenderest love, will have neither + father nor family, nor even a name, since a law framed to make lovers + unhappy prevents my acknowledging him. While the other, the son of my + detested wife, by the sole fact of his birth, will be rich, noble, + surrounded by devotion and homage, with a great position in the world. I + cannot bear the thought of this terrible injustice! How it is to be + prevented, I do not know: but rest assured I shall find a way. It is to + him who is the most desired, the most cherished, the most beloved, that + the greater fortune should come; and come to him it shall, for I so will + it.’” + </p> + <p> + “From where is that letter dated?” asked old Tabaret. The style in which + it was written had already settled one point in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “See,” replied Noel. He handed the letter to the old fellow, who read,— + </p> + <p> + “Venice, December, 1828.” + </p> + <p> + “You perceive,” resumed the advocate, “all the importance of this first + letter. It is like a brief statement of the facts. My father, married in + spite of himself, adores his mistress, and detests his wife. Both find + themselves enceinte at the same time, and his feelings towards the two + infants about to be born, are not at all concealed. Towards the end one + almost sees peeping forth the germ of the idea which later on he will not + be afraid to put into execution, in defiance of all law human or divine!” + </p> + <p> + He was speaking as though pleading the cause, when old Tabaret interrupted + him. + </p> + <p> + “It is not necessary to explain it,” said he. “Thank goodness, what you + have just read is explicit enough. I am not an adept in such matters, I am + as simple as a juryman; however I understand it admirably so far.” + </p> + <p> + “I pass over several letters,” continued Noel, “and I come to this one + dated Jan. 23, 1829. It is very long, and filled with matters altogether + foreign to the subject which now occupies us. However, it contains two + passages, which attest the slow but steady growth of my father’s project. + ‘A destiny, more powerful than my will, chains me to this country; but my + soul is with you, my Valerie! Without ceasing, my thoughts rest upon the + adored pledge of our love which moves within you. Take care, my darling, + take care of yourself, now doubly precious. It is the lover, the father, + who implores you. The last part of your letter wounds my heart. Is it not + an insult to me, for you to express anxiety as to the future of our child! + Oh heaven! she loves me, she knows me, and yet she doubts!’ + </p> + <p> + “I skip,” said Noel, “two pages of passionate rhapsody, and stop at these + few lines at the end. ‘The countess’s condition causes her to suffer very + much! Unfortunate wife! I hate and at the same time pity her. She seems to + divine the reason of my sadness and my coldness. By her timid submission + and unalterable sweetness, one would think she sought pardon for our + unhappy union. Poor sacrificed creature! She also may have given her heart + to another, before being dragged to the altar. Our fates would then be the + same. Your good heart will pardon my pitying her.’ + </p> + <p> + “That one was my mother,” cried the advocate in a trembling voice. “A + saint! And he asks pardon for the pity she inspires! Poor woman.” + </p> + <p> + He passed his hands over his eyes, as if to force back his tears, and + added,— + </p> + <p> + “She is dead!” + </p> + <p> + In spite of his impatience, old Tabaret dared not utter a word. Besides he + felt keenly the profound sorrow of his young friend, and respected it. + After a rather long silence, Noel raised his head, and returned to the + correspondence. + </p> + <p> + “All the letters which follow,” said he, “carry traces of the + preoccupation of my father’s mind on the subject of his bastard son. I lay + them, however, aside. But this is what strikes me in the one written from + Rome, on March 5, 1829. ‘My son, our son, that is my great, my only + anxiety. How to secure for him the future position of which I dream? The + nobles of former times were not worried in this way. In those days I would + have gone to the king, who, with a word, would have assured the child’s + position in the world. To-day, the king who governs with difficulty his + disaffected subjects can do nothing. The nobility has lost its rights, and + the highest in the land are treated the same as the meanest peasants!’ + Lower down I find,—‘My heart loves to picture to itself the likeness + of our son. He will have the spirit, the mind, the beauty, the grace, all + the fascinations of his mother. He will inherit from his father, pride, + valour, and the sentiments of a noble race. And the other, what will he be + like? I tremble to think of it. Hatred can only engender a monster. Heaven + reserves strength and beauty for the children of love!’ The monster, that + is I!” said the advocate, with intense rage. “Whilst the other—But + let us ignore these preliminaries to an outrageous action. I only desired + up to the present to show you the aberration of my father’s reason under + the influence of his passion. We shall soon come to the point.” + </p> + <p> + M. Tabaret was astonished at the strength of this passion, of which Noel + was disturbing the ashes. Perhaps, he felt it all the more keenly on + account of those expressions which recalled his own youth. He understood + how irresistible must have been the strength of such a love and he + trembled to speculate as to the result. + </p> + <p> + “Here is,” resumed Noel, holding up a sheet of paper, “not one of those + interminable epistles from which I have read you short extracts, but a + simple billet. It is dated from Venice at the beginning of May; it is + short but nevertheless decisive; ‘Dear Valerie,—Tell me, as near as + possible, the probable date of your confinement. I await your reply with + an anxiety you would imagine, could you but guess my projects with regard + to our child.’ + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” said Noel, “whether Madame Gerdy understood; anyhow she + must have answered at once, for this is what my father wrote on the 14th: + ‘Your reply, my darling, is what I did not dare expect it to be. The + project I had conceived is now practicable. I begin to feel more calm and + secure. Our son shall bear my name; I shall not be obliged to separate + myself from him. He shall be reared by my side, in my mansion, under my + eyes, on my knees, in my arms. Shall I have strength enough to bear this + excess of happiness? I have a soul for grief, shall I have one for joy? + Oh! my adored one, oh! my precious child, fear nothing, my heart is vast, + enough to love you both! I set out to-morrow for Naples, from whence I + shall write to you at length. Happen what may, however, though I should + have to sacrifice the important interests confided to me, I shall be in + Paris for the critical hour. My presence will double your courage; the + strength of my love will diminish your sufferings.’” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Noel,” said old Tabaret, “do you + know what important affairs detained your father abroad?” + </p> + <p> + “My father, my old friend,” replied the advocate, “was, in spite of his + youth, one of the friends, one of the confidants, of Charles X.; and he + had been entrusted by him with a secret mission to Italy. My father is + Count Rheteau de Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” exclaimed the old fellow; and the better to engrave the name upon + his memory, he repeated several times, between his teeth, “Rheteau de + Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + For a few minutes Noel remained silent. After having appeared to do + everything to control his resentment, he seemed utterly dejected, as + though he had formed the determination to attempt nothing to repair the + injury he had sustained. + </p> + <p> + “In the middle of the month of May, then,” he continued, “my father is at + Naples. It is whilst there, that he, a man of prudence and sense, a + dignified diplomatist, a nobleman, prompted by an insensate passion, dares + to confide to paper this most monstrous of projects. Listen! + </p> + <p> + “‘My adored one,— + </p> + <p> + “‘It is Germain, my old valet, who will hand you this letter. I am sending + him to Normandy, charged with a commission of the most delicate nature. He + is one of those servitors who may be trusted implicitly. + </p> + <p> + “‘The time has come for me to explain to you my projects respecting my + son. In three weeks, at the latest, I shall be in Paris. + </p> + <p> + “‘If my previsions are not deceited, the countess and you will be confined + at the same time. An interval of three or four days will not alter my + plan. This is what I have resolved. + </p> + <p> + “‘My two children will be entrusted to two nurses of Normandy, where my + estates are nearly all situated. One of these women, known to Germain, and + to whom I am sending him, will be in our interests. It is to this person, + Valerie, that our son will be confided. These two women will leave Paris + the same day, Germain accompanying her who will have charge of the son of + the countess. + </p> + <p> + “‘An accident, devised beforehand, will compel these two women to pass one + night on the road. Germain will arrange so they will have to sleep in the + same inn, and in the same chamber! During the night, our nurse will change + the infants in their cradles. + </p> + <p> + “‘I have foreseen everything, as I will explain to you, and every + precaution has been taken to prevent our secret from escaping. Germain has + instructions to procure, while in Paris, two sets of baby linen exactly + similar. Assist him with your advice. + </p> + <p> + “‘Your maternal heart, my sweet Valerie, may perhaps bleed at the thought + of being deprived of the innocent caresses of your child. You will console + yourself by thinking of the position secured to him by your sacrifice. + What excess of tenderness can serve him as powerfully as this separation? + As to the other, I know your fond heart, you will cherish him. Will it not + be another proof of your love for me? Besides, he will have nothing to + complain of. Knowing nothing he will have nothing to regret; and all that + money can secure in this world he shall have. + </p> + <p> + “‘Do not tell me that this attempt is criminal. No, my well beloved, no. + The success of our plan depends upon so many unlikely circumstances, so + many coincidences, independent of our will, that, without the evident + protection of Providence, we cannot succeed. If, then, success crowns our + efforts, it will be because heaven decreed it. + </p> + <p> + “‘Meanwhile I hope.’” + </p> + <p> + “Just what I expected,” murmured old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “And the wretched man,” cried Noel, “dares to invoke the aid of + Providence! He would make heaven his accomplice!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” asked the old fellow, “how did your mother,—pardon me, I + would say, how did Madame Gerdy receive this proposition?” + </p> + <p> + “She would appear to have rejected it, at first, for here are twenty pages + of eloquent persuasion from the count, urging her to agree to it, trying + to convince her. Oh, that woman!” + </p> + <p> + “Come my child,” said M. Tabaret, softly, “try not to be too unjust. You + seem to direct all your resentment against Madame Gerdy? Really, in my + opinion, the count is far more deserving of your anger than she is.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” interrupted Noel, with a certain degree of violence,—“true, + the count is guilty, very guilty. He is the author of the infamous + conspiracy, and yet I feel no hatred against him. He has committed a + crime, but he has an excuse, his passion. Moreover, my father has not + deceived me, like this miserable woman, every hour of my life, during + thirty years. Besides, M. de Commarin has been so cruelly punished, that, + at this present moment, I can only pardon and pity him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! so he has been punished?” interrogated the old fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, fearfully, as you will admit. But allow me to continue. Towards the + end of May, or, rather, during the first days of June, the count must have + arrived in Paris, for the correspondence ceases. He saw Madame Gerdy, and + the final arrangements of the conspiracy were decided on. Here is a note + which removes all uncertainty on that point. On the day it was written, + the count was on service at the Tuileries, and unable to leave his post. + He has written it even in the king’s study, on the king’s paper; see the + royal arms! The bargain has been concluded, and the woman who has + consented to become the instrument of my father’s projects is in Paris. He + informs his mistress of the fact.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Dear Valerie,—Germain informs me of the arrival of your son’s, our + son’s nurse. She will call at your house during the day. She is to be + depended upon; a magnificent recompense ensures her discretion. Do not, + however, mention our plans to her; for she has been given to understand + that you know nothing. I wish to charge myself with the sole + responsibility of the deed; it is more prudent. This woman is a native of + Normandy. She was born on our estate, almost in our house. Her husband is + a brave and honest sailor. Her name is Claudine Lerouge. + </p> + <p> + “‘Be of good courage, my dear love I am exacting from you the greatest + sacrifice that a lover can hope for from a mother. Heaven, you can no + longer doubt it, protects us. Everything depends now upon our skill and + our prudence, so that we are sure to succeed!’” + </p> + <p> + On one point, at least, M. Tabaret was sufficiently enlightened. The + researches into the past life of widow Lerouge were no longer difficult. + He could not restrain an exclamation of satisfaction, which passed + unnoticed by Noel. + </p> + <p> + “This note,” resumed the advocate, “closes the count’s correspondence with + Madame Gerdy.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed the old fellow, “you are in possession of nothing more?” + </p> + <p> + “I have also ten lines, written many years later, which certainly have + some weight, but after all are only a moral proof.” + </p> + <p> + “What a misfortune!” murmured M. Tabaret. Noel laid on the bureau the + letters he had held in his hand, and, turning towards his old friend, he + looked at him steadily. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose,” said he slowly and emphasising every syllable,—“suppose + that all my information ends here. We will admit, for a moment, that I + know nothing more than you do now. What is your opinion?” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret remained some minutes without answering; he was estimating the + probabilities resulting from M. de Commarin’s letters. + </p> + <p> + “For my own part,” said he at length, “I believe on my conscience that you + are not Madame Gerdy’s son.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are right!” answered the advocate forcibly. “You will easily + believe, will you not, that I went and saw Claudine. She loved me, this + poor woman who had given me her milk, she suffered from the knowledge of + the injustice that had been done me. Must I say it, her complicity in the + matter weighed upon her conscience; it was a remorse too great for her old + age. I saw her, I interrogated her, and she told me all. The count’s + scheme, simply and yet ingeniously conceived, succeeded without any + effort. Three days after my birth, the crime was committed, and I, poor, + helpless infant, was betrayed, despoiled and disinherited by my natural + protector, by my own father! Poor Claudine! She promised me her testimony + for the day on which I should reclaim my rights!” + </p> + <p> + “And she is gone, carrying her secret with her!” murmured the old fellow + in a tone of regret. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps!” replied Noel, “for I have yet one hope. Claudine had in her + possession several letters which had been written to her a long time ago, + some by the count, some by Madame Gerdy, letters both imprudent and + explicit. They will be found, no doubt, and their evidence will be + decisive. I have held these letters in my hands, I have read them; + Claudine particularly wished me to keep them, why did I not do so?” + </p> + <p> + No! there was no hope on that side, and old Tabaret knew so better than + any one. It was these very letters, no doubt, that the assassin of La + Jonchere wanted. He had found them and had burnt them with the other + papers, in the little stove. The old amateur detective was beginning to + understand. + </p> + <p> + “All the same,” said he, “from what I know of your affairs, which I think + I know as well as my own, it appears to me that the count has not overwell + kept the dazzling promises of fortune he made Madame Gerdy on your + behalf.” + </p> + <p> + “He never even kept them in the least degree, my old friend.” + </p> + <p> + “That now,” cried the old fellow indignantly, “is even more infamous than + all the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not accuse my father,” answered Noel gravely; “his connection with + Madame Gerdy lasted a long time. I remember a haughty-looking man who used + sometimes to come and see me at school, and who could be no other than the + count. But the rupture came.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” sneered M. Tabaret, “a great nobleman—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait before judging,” interrupted the advocate. “M. de Commarin had his + reasons. His mistress was false to him, he learnt it, and cast her off + with just indignation. The ten lines which I mentioned to you were written + then.” + </p> + <p> + Noel searched a considerable time among the papers scattered upon the + table, and at length selected a letter more faded and creased than the + others. Judging from the number of folds in the paper one could guess that + it had been read and re-read many times. The writing even was here and + there partly obliterated. + </p> + <p> + “In this,” said he in a bitter tone, “Madame Gerdy is no longer the adored + Valerie: ‘A friend, cruel as all true friends, has opened my eyes. I + doubted. You have been watched, and today, unhappily, I can doubt no more. + You, Valerie, you to whom I have given more than my life, you deceive me + and have been deceiving me for a long time past. Unhappy man that I am! I + am no longer certain that I am the father of your child.’” + </p> + <p> + “But this note is a proof,” cried old Tabaret, “an overwhelming proof. Of + what importance to the count would be a doubt of his paternity, had he not + sacrificed his legitimate son to his bastard? Yes, you have said truly, + his punishment has been severe.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Gerdy,” resumed Noel, “wished to justify herself. She wrote to the + count; but he returned her letters unopened. She called on him, but he + would not receive her. At length she grew tired of her useless attempts to + see him. She knew that all was well over when the count’s steward brought + her for me a legal settlement of fifteen thousand francs a year. The son + had taken my place, and the mother had ruined me!” + </p> + <p> + Three or four light knocks at the door of the study interrupted Noel. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” he asked, without stirring. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” answered the servant from the other side of the door, “madame + wishes to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate appeared to hesitate. + </p> + <p> + “Go, my son,” advised M. Tabaret; “do not be merciless, only bigots have + that right.” + </p> + <p> + Noel arose with visible reluctance, and passed into Madame Gerdy’s + sleeping apartment. + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy!” thought M. Tabaret when left alone. “What a fatal discovery! + and how he must feel it. Such a noble young man! such a brave heart! In + his candid honesty he does not even suspect from whence the blow has + fallen. Fortunately I am shrewd enough for two, and it is just when he + despairs of justice, I am confident of obtaining it for him. Thanks to his + information, I am now on the track. A child might now divine whose hand + struck the blow. But how has it happened? He will tell me without knowing + it. Ah! if I had one of those letters for four and twenty hours. He has + probably counted them. If I ask for one, I must acknowledge my connection + with the police. I had better take one, no matter which, just to verify + the handwriting.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret had just thrust one of the letters into the depths of his + capacious pocket, when the advocate returned. + </p> + <p> + He was one of those men of strongly formed character, who never lose their + self-control. He was very cunning and had long accustomed himself to + dissimulation, that indispensable armour of the ambitious. + </p> + <p> + As he entered the room nothing in his manner betrayed what had taken place + between Madame Gerdy and himself. He was absolutely as calm as, when + seated in his arm-chair, he listened to the interminable stories of his + clients. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” asked old Tabaret, “how is she now?” + </p> + <p> + “Worse,” answered Noel. “She is now delirious, and no longer knows what + she says. She has just assailed me with the most atrocious abuse, + upbraiding me as the vilest of mankind! I really believe she is going out + of her mind.” + </p> + <p> + “One might do so with less cause,” murmured M. Tabaret; “and I think you + ought to send for the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “I have just done so.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate had resumed his seat before his bureau, and was rearranging + the scattered letters according to their dates. He seemed to have + forgotten that he had asked his old friend’s advice; nor did he appear in + any way desirous of renewing the interrupted conversation. This was not at + all what old Tabaret wanted. + </p> + <p> + “The more I ponder over your history, my dear Noel,” he observed, “the + more I am bewildered. I really do not know what resolution I should adopt, + were I in your situation.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my old friend,” replied the advocate sadly, “it is a situation that + might well perplex even more profound experiences than yours.” + </p> + <p> + The old amateur detective repressed with difficulty the sly smile, which + for an instant hovered about his lips. + </p> + <p> + “I confess it humbly,” he said, taking pleasure in assuming an air of + intense simplicity, “but you, what have you done? Your first impulse must + have been to ask Madame Gerdy for an explanation.” + </p> + <p> + Noel made a startled movement, which passed unnoticed by old Tabaret, + preoccupied as he was in trying to give the turn he desired to the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “It was by that,” answered Noel, “that I began.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did she say?” + </p> + <p> + “What could she say! Was she not overwhelmed by the discovery?” + </p> + <p> + “What! did she not attempt to exculpate herself?” inquired the detective + greatly surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! she attempted the impossible. She pretended she could explain the + correspondence. She told me . . . But can I remember what she said? Lies, + absurd, infamous lies.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate had finished gathering up his letters, without noticing the + abstraction. He tied them together carefully, and replaced them in the + secret drawer of his bureau. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued he, rising and walking backwards and forward across his + study, as if the constant movement could calm his anger, “yes, she + pretended she could show me I was wrong. It was easy, was it not, with the + proofs I held against her? The fact is she adores her son, and her heart + is breaking at the idea that he may be obliged to restitute what he has + stolen from me. And I, idiot, fool, coward, almost wished not to mention + the matter to her. I said to myself, I will forgive, for after all she has + loved me! Loved? no. She would see me suffer the most horrible tortures, + without shedding a tear, to prevent a single hair falling from her son’s + head.” + </p> + <p> + “She has probably warned the count,” observed old Tabaret, still pursuing + his idea. + </p> + <p> + “She may have tried, but cannot have succeeded, for the count has been + absent from Paris for more than a month and is not expected to return + until the end of the week.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “I wished to see the count my father, to speak with him.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I. Do you think that I shall not reclaim my own? Do you imagine that + I shall not raise my voice. On what account should I keep silent, who have + I to consider? I have rights, and I will make them good. What do you find + surprising in that?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, certainly, my friend. So then you called at M. de Commarin’s + house?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I did not decide on doing so all at once,” continued Noel. “At first + my discovery almost drove me mad. Then I required time to reflect. A + thousand opposing sentiments agitated me. At one moment, my fury blinded + me; the next, my courage deserted me. I would, and I would not. I was + undecided, uncertain, wild. The scandal that must arise from the publicity + of such an affair terrified me. I desired, I still desire to recover my + name, that much is certain. But on the eve of recovering it, I wish to + preserve it from stain. I was seeking a means of arranging everything, + without noise, without scandal.” + </p> + <p> + “At length, however, you made up your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, after a struggle of fifteen days, fifteen days of torture, of + anguish! Ah! what I suffered in that time! I neglected my business, being + totally unfit for work. During the day, I tried by incessant action to + fatigue my body, that at night I might find forgetfulness in sleep. Vain + hope! since I found these letters, I have not slept an hour.” + </p> + <p> + From time to time, old Tabaret slyly consulted his watch. “M. Daburon will + be in bed,” thought he. + </p> + <p> + “At last one morning,” continued Noel, “after a night of rage, I + determined to end all uncertainty. I was in that desperate state of mind, + in which the gambler, after successive losses, stakes upon a card his last + remaining coin. I plucked up courage, sent for a cab, and was driven to + the de Commarin mansion.” + </p> + <p> + The old amateur detective here allowed a sigh of satisfaction to escape + him. + </p> + <p> + “It is one of the most magnificent houses, in the Faubourg St. Germain, my + friend, a princely dwelling, worthy a great noble twenty times + millionaire; almost a palace in fact. One enters at first a vast + courtyard, to the right and left of which are the stables, containing + twenty most valuable horses, and the coach-houses. At the end rises the + grand facade of the main building, majestic and severe, with its immense + windows, and its double flight of marble steps. Behind the house is a + magnificent garden, I should say a park, shaded by the oldest trees which + perhaps exist in all Paris.” + </p> + <p> + This enthusiastic description was not at all what M. Tabaret wanted. But + what could he do, how could he press Noel for the result of his visit! An + indiscreet word might awaken the advocate’s suspicions, and reveal to him + that he was speaking not to a friend, but to a detective. + </p> + <p> + “Were you then shown over the house and grounds?” asked the old fellow. + </p> + <p> + “No, but I have examined them alone. Since I discovered that I was the + only heir of the Rheteau de Commarin, I have found out the antecedents of + my new family. + </p> + <p> + “Standing before the dwelling of my ancestors,” continued Noel, “you + cannot comprehend the excess of my emotion. Here, said I, is the house in + which I was born. This is the house in which I should have been reared; + and, above all, this is the spot where I should reign to-day, whereon I + stand an outcast and a stranger, devoured by the sad and bitter memories, + of which banished men have died. I compared my brother’s brilliant + destinies with my sad and labourious career; and my indignation well nigh + overmastered reason. The mad impulse stirred me to force the doors, to + rush into the grand salon, and drive out the intruder,—the son of + Madame Gerdy,—who had taken the place of the son of the Countess de + Commarin! Out, usurper, out of this. I am master here. The propriety of + legal means at once recurred to my distracted mind, however, and + restrained me. Once more I stood before the habitation of my fathers. How + I love its old sculptures, its grand old trees, its shaded walls, worn by + the feet of my poor mother! I love all, even to the proud escutcheon, + frowning above the principal doorway, flinging its defiance to the + theories of this age of levellers.” + </p> + <p> + This last phrase conflicted so directly with the code of opinions habitual + to Noel, that old Tabaret was obliged to turn aside, to conceal his + amusement. + </p> + <p> + “Poor humanity!” thought he; “he is already the grand seigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “On presenting myself,” continued the advocate, “I demanded to see the + Count de Commarin. A Swiss porter, in grand livery, answered, the count + was travelling, but that the viscount was at home. This ran counter to my + designs; but I was embarked; so I insisted on speaking to the son in + default of the father. The Swiss porter stared at me with astonishment. He + had evidently seen me alight from a hired carriage, and so deliberated for + some moments as to whether I was not too insignificant a person to have + the honour of being admitted to visit the viscount.” + </p> + <p> + “But tell me, have you seen him?” asked old Tabaret, unable to restrain + his impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, immediately,” replied the advocate in a tone of bitter + raillery. “Could the examination, think you, result otherwise than in my + favour? No. My white cravat and black costume produced their natural + effect. The Swiss porter entrusted me to the guidance of a chasseur with a + plumed hat, who led me across the yard to a superb vestibule, where five + or six footmen were lolling and gaping on their seats. One of these + gentlemen asked me to follow him. He led me up a spacious staircase, wide + enough for a carriage to ascend, preceded me along an extensive picture + gallery, guided me across vast apartments, the furniture of which was + fading under its coverings, and finally delivered me into the hands of M. + Albert’s valet. That is the name by which Madame Gerdy’s son is known, + that is to say, my name.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I had passed an inspection; now I had to undergo an examination. The + valet desired to be informed who I was, whence I came, what was my + profession, what I wanted and all the rest. I answered simply, that, quite + unknown to the viscount, I desired five minutes’ conversation with him on + a matter of importance. He left me, requesting me to sit down and wait. I + had waited more than a quarter of an hour, when he reappeared. His master + graciously deigned to receive me.” + </p> + <p> + It was easy to perceive that the advocate’s reception rankled in his + breast, and that he considered it an insult. He could not forgive Albert + his lackeys and his valet. He forgot the words of the illustrious duke, + who said, “I pay my lackeys to be insolent, to save myself the trouble and + ridicule of being so.” Old Tabaret was surprised at his young friend’s + display of bitterness, in speaking of these trivial details. + </p> + <p> + “What narrow-mindedness,” thought he, “for a man of such intelligence! Can + it be true that the arrogance of lackeys is the secret of the people’s + hatred of an amiable and polite aristocracy?” + </p> + <p> + “I was ushered into a small apartment,” continued Noel, “simply furnished, + the only ornaments of which were weapons. These, ranged against the walls, + were of all times and countries. Never have I seen in so small a space so + many muskets, pistols, swords, sabres, and foils. One might have imagined + himself in a fencing master’s arsenal.” + </p> + <p> + The weapon used by Widow Lerouge’s assassin naturally recurred to the old + fellow’s memory. + </p> + <p> + “The viscount,” said Noel, speaking slowly, “was half lying on a divan + when I entered. He was dressed in a velvet jacket and loose trousers of + the same material, and had around his neck an immense white silk scarf. I + do not cherish any resentment against this young man; he has never to his + knowledge injured me: he was in ignorance of our father’s crime; I am + therefore able to speak of him with justice. He is handsome, bears himself + well, and nobly carries the name which does not belong to him. He is about + my height, of the same dark complexion, and would resemble me, perhaps, if + he did not wear a beard. Only he looks five or six years younger; but this + is readily explained, he has neither worked, struggled, nor suffered. He + is one of the fortunate ones who arrive without having to start, or who + traverse life’s road on such soft cushions that they are never injured by + the jolting of their carriage. On seeing me, he arose and saluted me + graciously.” + </p> + <p> + “You must have been dreadfully excited,” remarked old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “Less than I am at this moment. Fifteen preparatory days of mental torture + exhausts one’s emotions. I answered the question I saw upon his lips. + ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘you do not know me; but that is of little consequence. I + come to you, charged with a very grave, a very sad mission, which touches + the honour of the name you bear.’ Without doubt he did not believe me, + for, in an impertinent tone, he asked me, ‘Shall you be long?’ I answered + simply, ‘Yes.’” + </p> + <p> + “Pray,” interrupted old Tabaret, now become very attentive, “do not omit a + single detail; it may be very important, you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “The viscount,” continued Noel, “appeared very much put out. ‘The fact + is,’ he explained, ‘I had already disposed of my time. This is the hour at + which I call on the young lady to whom I am engaged, Mademoiselle + d’Arlange. Can we not postpone this conversation?’” + </p> + <p> + “Good! another woman!” said the old fellow to himself. + </p> + <p> + “I answered the viscount, that an explanation would admit of no delay; + and, as I saw him prepare to dismiss me, I drew from my pocket the count’s + correspondence, and presented one of the letters to him. On recognizing + his father’s handwriting, he became more tractable, declared himself at my + service, and asked permission to write a word of apology to the lady by + whom he was expected. Having hastily written the note he handed it to his + valet, and ordered him to send at once to Madame d’Arlange. He then asked + me to pass into the next room, which was his library.” + </p> + <p> + “One word,” interrupted the old fellow; “was he troubled on seeing the + letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Not the least in the world. After carefully closing the door, he pointed + to a chair, seated himself, and said, ‘Now, sir, explain yourself.’ I had + had time to prepare myself for this interview whilst waiting in the + ante-room. I had decided to go straight to the point. ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘my + mission is painful. The facts I am about to reveal to you are incredible. + I beg you, do not answer me until you have read the letters I have here. I + beseech you, above all, to keep calm.’ He looked at me with an air of + extreme surprise, and answered, ‘Speak! I can hear all.’ I stood up, and + said, ‘Sir, I must inform you that you are not the legitimate son of M. de + Commarin, as this correspondence will prove to you. The legitimate son + exists; and he it is who sends me.’ I kept my eyes on his while speaking, + and I saw there a passing gleam of fury. For a moment I thought he was + about to spring at my throat. He soon recovered himself. ‘The letters,’ + said he in a short tone. I handed them to him.” + </p> + <p> + “How!” cried old Tabaret, “these letters,—the true ones? How + imprudent!” + </p> + <p> + “And why?” + </p> + <p> + “If he had—I don’t know; but—” the old fellow hesitated. + </p> + <p> + The advocate laid his hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “I was there,” said + he in a hollow tone; “and I promise you the letters were in no danger.” + </p> + <p> + Noel’s features assumed such an expression of ferocity that the old fellow + was almost afraid, and recoiled instinctively. “He would have killed him,” + thought he. + </p> + <p> + “That which I have done for you this evening, my friend,” resumed the + advocate, “I did for the viscount. I obviated, at least for the moment, + the necessity of reading all of these hundred and fifty-six letters. I + told him only to stop at those marked with a cross, and to carefully read + the passages indicated with a red pencil.” + </p> + <p> + “It was an abridgment of his penance,” remarked old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “He was seated,” continued Noel, “before a little table, too fragile even + to lean upon. I was standing with my back to the fireplace in which a fire + was burning. I followed his slightest movements; and I scanned his + features closely. Never in my life have I seen so sad a spectacle, nor + shall I forget it, if I live for a thousand years. In less than five + minutes his face changed to such an extent that his own valet would not + have recognized him. He held his handkerchief in his hand, with which from + time to time he mechanically wiped his lips. He grew paler and paler, and + his lips became as white as his handkerchief. Large drops of sweat stood + upon his forehead, and his eyes became dull and clouded, as if a film had + covered them; but not an exclamation, not a sigh, not a groan, not even a + gesture, escaped him. At one moment, I felt such pity for him that I was + almost on the point of snatching the letters from his hands, throwing them + into the fire and taking him in my arms, crying, ‘No, you are my brother! + Forget all; let us remain as we are and love one another!’” + </p> + <p> + M. Tabaret took Noel’s hand, and pressed it. “Ah!” he said, “I recognise + my generous boy.” + </p> + <p> + “If I have not done this, my friend, it is because I thought to myself, + ‘Once these letters destroyed, would he recognise me as his brother?’” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! very true.” + </p> + <p> + “In about half an hour, he had finished reading; he arose, and facing me + directly, said, ‘You are right, sir. If these letters are really written + by my father, as I believe them to be, they distinctly prove that I am not + the son of the Countess de Commarin.’ I did not answer. ‘Meanwhile,’ + continued he, ‘these are only presumptions. Are you possessed of other + proofs?’ I expected, of course, a great many other objections. ‘Germain,’ + said I, ‘can speak.’ He told me that Germain had been dead for several + years. Then I spoke of the nurse, Widow Lerouge—I explained how + easily she could be found and questioned, adding that she lived at La + Jonchere.” + </p> + <p> + “And what said he, Noel, to this?” asked old Tabaret anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “He remained silent at first, and appeared to reflect. All on a sudden he + struck his forehead, and said, ‘I remember; I know her. I have accompanied + my father to her house three times, and in my presence he gave her a + considerable sum of money.’ I remarked to him that this was yet another + proof. He made no answer, but walked up and down the room. At length he + turned towards me, saying, ‘Sir, you know M. de Commarin’s legitimate + son?’ I answered: ‘I am he.’ He bowed his head and murmured ‘I thought + so.’ He then took my hand and added, ‘Brother, I bear you no ill will for + this.’” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” remarked old Tabaret, “that he might have left that to + you to say, and with more reason and justice.” + </p> + <p> + “No, my friend, for he is more ill-used than I. I have not been lowered, + for I did not know, whilst he! . . . .” + </p> + <p> + The old police agent nodded his head, he had to hide his thoughts, and + they were stifling him. + </p> + <p> + “At length,” resumed Noel, after a rather long pause, “I asked him what he + proposed doing. ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I expect my father in about eight or + ten days. You will allow me this delay. As soon as he returns I will have + an explanation with him, and justice shall be done. I give you my word of + honour. Take back your letters and leave me to myself. This news has + utterly overwhelmed me. In a moment I lose everything: a great name that I + have always borne as worthily as possible, a magnificent position, an + immense fortune, and, more than all that, perhaps, the woman who is dearer + to me than life. In exchange, it is true, I shall find a mother. We will + console each other. And I will try, sir, to make her forget you, for she + must love you, and will miss you.’” + </p> + <p> + “Did he really say that?” + </p> + <p> + “Almost word for word.” + </p> + <p> + “Hypocrite!” growled the old fellow between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” asked Noel. + </p> + <p> + “I say that he is a fine young man; and I shall be delighted to make his + acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not show him the letter referring to the rupture,” added Noel; “it + is best that he should ignore Madame Gerdy’s misconduct. I voluntarily + deprived myself of this proof, rather than give him further pain.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” + </p> + <p> + “What am I to do? I am waiting the count’s return. I shall act more freely + after hearing what he has to say. Tomorrow I shall ask permission to + examine the papers belonging to Claudine. If I find the letters, I am + saved; if not,—but, as I have told you, I have formed no plan since + I heard of the assassination. Now, what do you advise?” + </p> + <p> + “The briefest counsel demands long reflection,” replied the old fellow, + who was in haste to depart. “Alas! my poor boy, what worry you have had!” + </p> + <p> + “Terrible! and, in addition, I have pecuniary embarrassments.” + </p> + <p> + “How! you who spend nothing?” + </p> + <p> + “I have entered into various engagements. Can I now make use of Madame + Gerdy’s fortune, which I have hitherto used as my own? I think not.” + </p> + <p> + “You certainly ought not to. But listen! I am glad you have spoken of + this; you can render me a service. + </p> + <p> + “Very willingly. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I have, locked up in my secretary, twelve or fifteen thousand francs, + which trouble me exceedingly. You see, I am old, and not very brave, if + any one heard I had this money—” + </p> + <p> + “I fear I cannot—” commenced the advocate. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said the old fellow. “To-morrow I will give them to you to + take care of.” But remembering he was about to put himself at M. Daburon’s + disposal, and that perhaps he might not be free on the morrow, he quickly + added, “No, not to-morrow; but this very evening. This infernal money + shall not remain another night in my keeping.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried out, and presently reappeared, holding in his hand fifteen + notes of a thousand francs each. “If that is not sufficient,” said he, + handing them to Noel, “you can have more.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow,” replied the advocate, “I will give you a receipt for these.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! never mind. Time enough to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “And if I die to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said the old fellow to himself, thinking of his will, “I shall + still be your debtor. Good-night!” added he aloud. “You have asked my + advice, I shall require the night for reflection. At present my brain is + whirling; I must go into the air. If I go to bed now, I am sure to have a + horrible nightmare. Come, my boy; patience and courage. Who knows whether + at this very hour Providence is not working for you?” + </p> + <p> + He went out, and Noel, leaving his door open, listened to the sound of his + footsteps as he descended the stairs. Almost immediately the cry of, + “Open, if you please,” and the banging of the door apprised him that M. + Tabaret had gone out. He waited a few minutes and refilled his lamp. Then + he took a small packet from one of his bureau drawers, slipped into his + pocket the bank notes lent him by his old friend, and left his study, the + door of which he double-locked. On reaching the landing, he paused. He + listened intently as though the sound of Madame Gerdy’s moans could reach + him where he stood. Hearing nothing, he descended the stairs on tiptoe. A + minute later, he was in the street. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + Included in Madame Gerdy’s lease was a coach-house, which was used by her + as a lumber room. Here were heaped together all the old rubbish of the + household, broken pieces of furniture, utensils past service, articles + become useless or cumbrous. It was also used to store the provision of + wood and coal for the winter. This old coach-house had a small door + opening on the street, which had been in disuse for many years; but which + Noel had had secretly repaired and provided with a lock. He could thus + enter or leave the house at any hour without the concierge or any one else + knowing. It was by this door that the advocate went out, though not + without using the utmost caution in opening and closing it. Once in the + street, he stood still a moment, as if hesitating which way to go. Then, + he slowly proceeded in the direction of the St. Lazare railway station, + when a cab happening to pass, he hailed it. “Rue du Faubourg Montmarte, at + the corner of the Rue de Provence,” said Noel, entering the vehicle, “and + drive quick.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate alighted at the spot named, and dismissed the cabman. When he + had seen him drive off, Noel turned into the Rue de Provence, and, after + walking a few yards, rang the bell of one of the handsomest houses in the + street. The door was immediately opened. As Noel passed before him the + concierge made a most respectful, and at the same time patronizing bow, + one of those salutations which Parisian concierges reserve for their + favorite tenants, generous mortals always ready to give. On reaching the + second floor, the advocate paused, drew a key from his pocket, and opening + the door facing him, entered as if at home. But at the sound of the key in + the lock, though very faint, a lady’s maid, rather young and pretty, with + a bold pair of eyes, ran toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! it is you, sir,” cried she. + </p> + <p> + This exclamation escaped her just loud enough to be audible at the + extremity of the apartment, and serve as a signal if needed. It was as if + she had cried, “Take care!” + </p> + <p> + Noel did not seem to notice it. “Madame is there?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, and very angry too. This morning she wanted to send some one to + you. A little while ago she spoke of going to find you, sir, herself. I + have had much difficulty in prevailing on her not to disobey your orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said the advocate. + </p> + <p> + “Madame is in the smoking room,” continued the girl “I am making her a cup + of tea. Will you have one, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Noel. “Show me a light, Charlotte.” + </p> + <p> + He passed successively through a magnificent dining-room, a splendid + gilded drawing-room in Louis XIV. style, and entered the smoking-room. + This was a rather large apartment with a very high ceiling. Once inside + one might almost fancy oneself three thousand miles from Paris, in the + house of some opulent mandarin of the celestial Empire. Furniture, carpet, + hangings, pictures, all had evidently been imported direct from Hong Kong + or Shanghai. A rich silk tapestry representing brilliantly coloured + figures, covered the walls, and hid the doors from view. All the empire of + the sun and moon was depicted thereon in vermillion landscapes: corpulent + mandarins surrounded by their lantern-bearers; learned men lay stupefied + with opium, sleeping under their parasols; young girls with elevated + eyebrows, stumbled upon their diminutive feet swathed in bandages. The + carpet of a manufacture unknown to Europeans, was strewn with fruits and + flowers, so true to nature that they might have deceived a bee. Some great + artist of Pekin had painted on the silk which covered the ceiling numerous + fantastic birds, opening on azure ground their wings of purple and gold. + Slender rods of lacquer, inlaid with mother of pearl, bordered the + draperies, and marked the angles of the apartment. Two fantastic looking + chests entirely occupied one side of the room. Articles of furniture of + capricious and incoherent forms, tables with porcelain tops, and + chiffoniers of precious woods encumbered every recess or angle. There were + also ornamental cabinets and shelves purchased of Lien-Tsi, the Tahan of + Sou-Tcheou, the artistic city, and a thousand curiosities, both + miscellaneous and costly, from the ivory sticks which are used instead of + forks, to the porcelain teacups, thinner than soap bubbles,—miracles + of the reign of Kien-Loung. A very large and very low divan piled up with + cushions, covered with tapestry similar to the hangings, occupied one end + of the room. There was no regular window, but instead a large single pane + of glass, fixed into the wall of the house; in front of it was a double + glass door with moveable panes, and the space between was filled with the + most rare flowers. The grate was replaced by registers adroitly concealed, + which maintained in the apartment a temperature fit for hatching + silkworms, thus truly harmonising with the furniture. + </p> + <p> + When Noel entered, a woman, still young, was reclining on the divan, + smoking a cigarette. In spite of the tropical heat, she was enveloped in + heavy Cashmere shawls. She was small, but then only small women can unite + in their persons every perfection. Women who are above the medium height + must be either essays, or errors of nature. No matter how lovely they may + look, they invariably present some defect, like the work of a statuary, + who, though possessed of genius, attempts for the first time sculpture on + a grand scale. She was small, but her neck, her shoulders, and her arms + had the most exquisite contours. Her hands with their tapering fingers and + rosy nails looked like jewels preciously cared for. Her feet, encased in + silken stockings almost as thin as a spider’s-web, were a marvel; not that + they recalled the very fabulous foot which Cinderella thrust into the + glass slipper; but the other, very real, very celebrated and very palpable + foot, of which the fair owner (the lovely wife of a well-known banker) + used to present the model either in bronze or in marble to her numerous + admirers. Her face was not beautiful, nor even pretty; but her features + were such as one seldom forgets; for, at the first glance, they startled + the beholder like a flash of lightning. Her forehead was a little high, + and her mouth unmistakably large, notwithstanding the provoking freshness + of her lips. Her eyebrows were so perfect they seem to have been drawn + with India ink; but, unhappily the pencil had been used too heavily; and + they gave her an unpleasant expression when she frowned. On the other + hand, her smooth complexion had a rich golden pallor; and her black and + velvety eyes possessed enormous magnetic power. Her teeth were of a pearly + brilliancy and whiteness, and her hair, of prodigious opulence, was black + and fine, and glossy as a raven’s wing. + </p> + <p> + On perceiving Noel, as he pushed aside the silken hangings, she half arose + and leaned upon her elbow. “So you have come at last?” she observed in a + tone of vexation; “you are very kind.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate felt almost suffocated by the oppressive temperature of the + room. “How warm it is!” said he; “it is enough to stifle one!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you find it so?” replied the young woman. “Well, I am actually + shivering! It is true though, that I am very unwell. Waiting is unbearable + to me, it acts upon my nerves; and I have been waiting for you ever since + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “It was quite impossible for me to come,” explained Noel, “quite + impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “You knew, however,” continued the lady, “that to-day was my settling day; + and that I had several heavy accounts to settle. The tradesmen all came, + and I had not a half-penny to give them. The coachmaker sent his bill, but + there was no money. Then that old rascal Clergot, to whom I had given an + acceptance for three thousand francs, came and kicked up a frightful row. + How pleasant all this is!” + </p> + <p> + Noel bowed his head like a schoolboy rebuked for having neglected his + lessons. “It is but one day behind,” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “And that is nothing, is it?” retorted the young woman. “A man who + respects himself, my friend, may allow his own signature to be + dishonoured, but never that of his mistress! Do you wish to destroy my + credit altogether? You know very well that the only consideration I + receive is what my money pays for. So as soon as I am unable to pay, it + will be all up with me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Juliette,” began the advocate gently. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! that’s all very fine,” interrupted she. “Your dear Juliette! + your adored Juliette! so long as you are here it is really charming; but + no sooner are you outside than you forget everything. Do you ever remember + then that there is such a person as Juliette?” + </p> + <p> + “How unjust you are!” replied Noel. “Do you not know that I am always + thinking of you; have I not proved it to you a thousand times? Look here! + I am going to prove it to you again this very instant.” He withdrew from + his pocket the small packet he had taken out of his bureau drawer, and, + undoing it, showed her a handsome velvet casket. “Here,” said he + exultingly, “is the bracelet you longed for so much a week ago at + Beaugrau’s.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Juliette, without rising, held out her hand to take the casket, + and, opening it with the utmost indifference, just glanced at the jewel, + and merely said, “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “Is this the one you wanted?” asked Noel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it looked much prettier in the shop window.” She closed the + casket, and threw it carelessly on to a small table near her. + </p> + <p> + “I am unfortunate this evening,” said the advocate, much mortified. + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “I see plainly the bracelet does not please you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but it does. I think it lovely . . . besides, it will complete the + two dozen.” + </p> + <p> + It was now Noel’s turn to say: “Ah! . . .” and as Juliette said nothing, + he added: “Well, if you are pleased, you do not show it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! so that is what you are driving at!” cried the lady. “I am not + grateful enough to suit you! You bring me a present, and I ought at once + to pay cash, fill the house with cries of joy, and throw myself upon my + knees before you, calling you a great and magnificent lord!” + </p> + <p> + Noel was unable this time to restrain a gesture of impatience, which + Juliette perceived plainly enough, to her great delight. + </p> + <p> + “Would that be sufficient?” continued she. “Shall I call Charlotte, so + that she may admire this superb bracelet, this monument of your + generosity? Shall I have the concierge up, and call the cook to tell them + how happy I am to possess such a magnificent lover.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate shrugged his shoulders like a philosopher, incapable of + noticing a child’s banter. “What is the use of these insulting jests?” + said he. “If you have any real complaint against me, better to say so + simply and seriously.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Juliette, “let us be serious. And, that being so, I will + tell you it would have been better to have forgotten the bracelet, and to + have brought me last night or this morning the eight thousand francs I + wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “I could not come.” + </p> + <p> + “You should have sent them; messengers are still to be found at the + street-corners.” + </p> + <p> + “If I neither brought nor sent them, my dear Juliette, it was because I + did not have them. I had trouble enough in getting them promised me for + to-morrow. If I have the sum this evening, I owe it to a chance upon which + I could not have counted an hour ago; but by which I profited, at the risk + of compromising myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor man!” said Juliette, with an ironical touch of pity in her voice. + “Do you dare to tell me you have had difficulty in obtaining ten thousand + francs,—you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—I!” + </p> + <p> + The young woman looked at her lover, and burst into a fit of laughter. + “You are really superb when you act the poor young man!” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I am not acting.” + </p> + <p> + “So you say, my own. But I see what you are aiming at. This amiable + confession is the preface. To-morrow you will declare that your affairs + are very much embarrassed, and the day after to-morrow . . . Ah! you are + becoming very avaricious. It is a virtue you used not to possess. Do you + not already regret the money you have given me?” + </p> + <p> + “Wretched woman!” murmured Noel, fast losing patience. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” continued the lady, “I pity you, oh! so much. Unfortunate lover! + Shall I get up a subscription for you? In your place, I would appeal to + public charity.” + </p> + <p> + Noel could stand it no longer, in spite of his resolution to remain calm. + “You think it a laughing matter?” cried he. “Well! let me tell you, + Juliette, I am ruined, and I have exhausted my last resources! I am + reduced to expedients!” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of the young woman brightened. She looked at her lover tenderly. + “Oh, if ‘twas only true, my big pet!” said she. “If I only could believe + you!” + </p> + <p> + The advocate was wounded to the heart. “She believes me,” thought he; “and + she is glad. She detests me.” + </p> + <p> + He was mistaken. The idea that a man had loved her sufficiently to ruin + himself for her, without allowing even a reproach to escape him, filled + this woman with joy. She felt herself on the point of loving the man, now + poor and humbled, whom she had despised when rich and proud. But the + expression of her eyes suddenly changed, “What a fool I am,” cried she, “I + was on the point of believing all that, and of trying to console you. + Don’t pretend that you are one of those gentlemen who scatter their money + broadcast. Tell that to somebody else, my friend! All men in our days + calculate like money-lenders. There are only a few fools who ruin + themselves now, some conceited youngsters, and occasionally an amorous old + dotard. Well, you are a very calm, very grave, and very serious fellow, + but above all, a very strong one.” + </p> + <p> + “Not with you, anyhow,” murmured Noel. + </p> + <p> + “Come now, stop that nonsense! You know very well what you are about. + Instead of a heart, you have a great big double zero, just like a Homburg. + When you took a fancy to me, you said to yourself, ‘I will expend so much + on passion,’ and you have kept your word. It is an investment, like any + other, in which one receives interest in the form of pleasure. You are + capable of all the extravagance in the world, to the extent of your fixed + price of four thousand francs a month! If it required a franc more you + would very soon take back your heart and your hat, and carry them + elsewhere; to one or other of my rivals in the neighborhood.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” answered the advocate, coolly. “I know how to count, and + that accomplishment is very useful to me. It enables me to know exactly + how and where I have got rid of my fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “So you really know?” sneered Juliette. + </p> + <p> + “And I can tell you, madam,” continued he. “At first you were not very + exacting, but the appetite came with eating. You wished for luxury, you + have it; splendid furniture, you have it; a complete establishment, + extravagant dresses, I could refuse you nothing. You required a carriage, + a horse, I gave them you. And I do not mention a thousand other whims. I + include neither this Chinese cabinet nor the two dozen bracelets. The + total is four hundred thousand francs!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “As one can be who has had that amount, and has it no longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Four hundred thousand francs, only fancy! Are there no centimes?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, my dear friend, if I make up my bill, you will still owe me + something.” + </p> + <p> + The entrance of the maid with the tea-tray interrupted this amorous duet, + of which Noel had experienced more than one repetition. The advocate held + his tongue on account of the servant. Juliette did the same on account of + her lover, for she had no secrets from Charlotte, who had been with her + three years, and with whom she had shared everything, sometimes even her + lovers. + </p> + <p> + Madame Juliette Chaffour was a Parisienne. She was born about 1839, + somewhere in the upper end of the Faubourg Montmarte. Her father was + unknown. Her infancy was a long alternation of beatings and caresses, + equally furious. She had lived as best she could, on sweetmeats and + damaged fruit; so that now her stomach could stand anything. At twelve + years old she was as thin as a nail, as green as a June apple, and more + depraved than the inmates of the prison of St. Lazare. Prudhomme would + have said that this precocious little hussy was totally destitute of + morality. She had not the slightest idea what morality was. She thought + the world was full of honest people living like her mother, and her + mother’s friends. She feared neither God nor devil, but she was afraid of + the police. She dreaded also certain mysterious and cruel persons, whom + she had heard spoken of, who dwell near the Palais de Justice, and who + experience a malicious pleasure in seeing pretty girls in trouble. As she + gave no promise of beauty, she was on the point of being placed in a shop, + when an old and respectable gentleman, who had known her mamma some years + previously, accorded her his protection. This old gentleman, prudent and + provident like all old gentlemen, was a connoisseur, and knew that to reap + one must sow. He resolved first of all to give his protege just a varnish + of education. He procured masters for her, who in less than three years + taught her to write, to play the piano, and to dance. What he did not + procure her, however, was a lover. She therefore found one for herself, an + artist who taught her nothing very new, but who carried her off to offer + her half of what he possessed, that is to say nothing. At the end of three + months, having had enough of it, she left the nest of her first love, with + all she possessed tied up in a cotton pocket handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + During the four years which followed, she led a precarious existence, + sometimes with little else to live upon but hope, which never wholly + abandons a young girl who knows she has pretty eyes. By turns she sunk to + the bottom, or rose to the surface of the stream in which she found + herself. Twice had fortune in new gloves come knocking at her door, but + she had not the sense to keep her. With the assistance of a strolling + player, she had just appeared on the stage of a small theatre, and spoken + her lines rather well, when Noel by chance met her, loved her, and made + her his mistress. Her advocate, as she called him, did not displease her + at first. After a few months, though, she could not bear him. She detested + him for his polite and polished manners, his manly bearing, his + distinguished air, his contempt, which he did not care to hide, for all + that is low and vulgar, and, above all, for his unalterable patience, + which nothing could tire. Her great complaint against him was that he was + not at all funny, and also, that he absolutely declined to conduct her to + those places where one can give a free vent to one’s spirits. To amuse + herself, she began to squander money; and her aversion for her lover + increased at the same rate as her ambition and his sacrifices. She + rendered him the most miserable of men, and treated him like a dog; and + this not from any natural badness of disposition, but from principle. She + was persuaded that a woman is beloved in proportion to the trouble she + causes and the mischief she does. + </p> + <p> + Juliette was not wicked, and she believed she had much to complain of. The + dream of her life was to be loved in a way which she felt, but could + scarcely have explained. She had never been to her lovers more than a + plaything. She understood this; and, as she was naturally proud, the idea + enraged her. She dreamed of a man who would be devoted enough to make a + real sacrifice for her, a lover who would descend to her level, instead of + attempting to raise her to his. She despaired of ever meeting such a one. + Noel’s extravagance left her as cold as ice. She believed he was very + rich, and singularly, in spite of her greediness, she did not care much + for money. Noel would have won her easier by a brutal frankness that would + have shown her clearly his situation. He lost her love by the delicacy of + his dissimulation, that left her ignorant of the sacrifices he was making + for her. + </p> + <p> + Noel adored Juliette. Until the fatal day he saw her, he had lived like a + sage. This, his first passion, burned him up; and, from the disaster, he + saved only appearances. + </p> + <p> + The four walls remained standing, but the interior of the edifice was + destroyed. Even heroes have their vulnerable parts, Achilles died from a + wound in the heel. The most artfully constructed armour has a flaw + somewhere. Noel was assailable by means of Juliette, and through her was + at the mercy of everything and every one. In four years, this model young + man, this advocate of immaculate reputation, this austere moralist, had + squandered not only his own fortune on her, but Madame Gerdy’s also. He + loved her madly, without reflection, without measure, with his eyes shut. + At her side, he forgot all prudence, and thought out loud. In her boudoir, + he dropped his mask of habitual dissimulation, and his vices displayed + themselves, at ease, as his limbs in a bath. He felt himself so powerless + against her, that he never essayed to struggle. She possessed him. Once or + twice he attempted to firmly oppose her ruinous caprices; but she had made + him pliable as the osier. Under the dark glances of this girl, his + strongest resolutions melted more quickly than snow beneath an April sun. + She tortured him; but she had also the power to make him forget all by a + smile, a tear, or a kiss. Away from the enchantress, reason returned at + intervals, and, in his lucid moments, he said to himself, “She does not + love me. She is amusing herself at my expense!” But the belief in her love + had taken such deep root in his heart that he could not pluck it forth. He + made himself a monster of jealousy, and then argued with himself + respecting her fidelity. On several occasions he had strong reasons to + doubt her constancy, but he never had the courage to declare his + suspicions. “If I am not mistaken, I shall either have to leave her,” + thought he, “or accept everything in the future.” At the idea of a + separation from Juliette, he trembled, and felt his passion strong enough + to compel him to submit to the lowest indignity. He preferred even these + heartbreaking doubts to a still more dreadful certainty. + </p> + <p> + The presence of the maid who took a considerable time in arranging the + tea-table gave Noel an opportunity to recover himself. He looked at + Juliette; and his anger took flight. Already he began to ask himself if he + had not been a little cruel to her. When Charlotte retired, he came and + took a seat on the divan beside his mistress, and attempted to put his + arms round her. “Come,” said he in a caressing tone, “you have been angry + enough for this evening. If I have done wrong, you have punished me + sufficiently. Kiss me, and make it up.” + </p> + <p> + She repulsed him angrily, and said in a dry tone,—“Let me alone! How + many times must I tell you that I am very unwell this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “You suffer, my love?” resumed the advocate, “where? Shall I send for the + doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need. I know the nature of my malady; it is called ennui. You + are not at all the doctor who could do anything for me.” + </p> + <p> + Noel rose with a discouraged air, and took his place at the side of the + tea-table, facing her. His resignation bespoke how habituated he had + become to these rebuffs. Juliette snubbed him; but he returned always, + like the poor dog who lies in wait all day for the time when his caresses + will not be inopportune. “You have told me very often during the last few + months, that I bother you. What have I done?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, why—?” + </p> + <p> + “My life is nothing more than a continual yawn,” answered the young woman; + “is it my fault? Do you think it very amusing to be your mistress? Look at + yourself. Does there exist another being as sad, as dull as you, more + uneasy, more suspicious, devoured by a greater jealousy!” + </p> + <p> + “Your reception of me, my dear Juliette,” ventured Noel “is enough to + extinguish gaiety and freeze all effusion. Then one always fears when one + loves!” + </p> + <p> + “Really! Then one should seek a woman to suit oneself, or have her made to + order; shut her up in the cellar, and have her brought upstairs once a + day, at the end of dinner, during dessert, or with the champagne just by + way of amusement.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have done better not to have come,” murmured the advocate. + </p> + <p> + “Of course. I am to remain alone here, without anything to occupy me + except a cigarette and a stupid book, that I go to sleep over? Do you call + this an existence, never to budge out of the house even?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the life of all the respectable women that I know,” replied the + advocate drily. + </p> + <p> + “Then I cannot compliment them on their enjoyment. Happily, though, I am + not a respectable woman, and I can tell you I am tired of living more + closely shut up than the wife of a Turk, with your face for sole + amusement.” + </p> + <p> + “You live shut up, you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly!” continued Juliette, with increased bitterness. “Come, have + you ever brought one of your friends here? No, you hide me. When have you + offered me your arm for a walk? Never, your dignity would be sullied, if + you were seen in my company. I have a carriage. Have you entered it half a + dozen times? Perhaps; but then you let down the blinds! I go out alone. I + walk about alone!” + </p> + <p> + “Always the same refrain,” interrupted Noel, anger getting the better of + him, “always these uncalled for complaints. As though you had still to + learn the reason why this state of things exists.” + </p> + <p> + “I know well enough,” pursued the young woman, “that you are ashamed of + me. Yet I know many bigger swells then you, who do not mind being seen + with their mistresses. My lord trembles for his fine name of Gerdy that I + might sully, while the sons of the most noble families are not afraid of + showing themselves in public places in the company of the stupidest of + kept women.” + </p> + <p> + At last Noel could stand it no longer, to the great delight of Madame + Chaffour. + </p> + <p> + “Enough of these recriminations!” cried he, rising. “If I hide our + relations, it is because I am constrained to do so. Of what do you + complain? You have unrestrained liberty; and you use it, too, and so + largely that your actions altogether escape me. You accuse me of creating + a vacuum around you. Who is to blame? Did I grow tired of a happy and + quiet existence? My friends would have come to see us in a home in + accordance with a modest competence. Can I bring them here? On seeing all + this luxury, this insolent display of my folly, they would ask each other + where I obtained all the money I have spent on you. I may have a mistress, + but I have not the right to squander a fortune that does not belong to me. + If my acquaintances learnt to-morrow that it is I who keep you, my future + prospects would be destroyed. What client would confide his interests to + the imbecile who ruined himself for the woman who has been the talk of all + Paris? I am not a great lord, I have neither an historical name to + tarnish, nor an immense fortune to lose. I am plain Noel Gerdy, a + advocate. My reputation is all that I possess. It is a false one, I admit. + Such as it is, however, I must keep it, and I will keep it.” + </p> + <p> + Juliette who knew her Noel thoroughly, saw that she had gone far enough. + She determined, therefore, to put him in a good humor again. “My friend,” + said she, tenderly, “I did not wish to cause you pain. You must be + indulgent, I am so horribly nervous this evening.” + </p> + <p> + This sudden change delighted the advocate, and almost sufficed to calm his + anger. “You will drive me mad with your injustice,” said he. “While I + exhaust my imagination to find what can be agreeable to you, you are + perpetually attacking my gravity; yet it is not forty-eight hours since we + were plunged in all the gaiety of the carnival. I kept the fete of Shrove + Tuesday like a student. We went to a theatre; I then put on a domino, and + accompanied you to the ball at the opera, and even invited two of my + friends to sup with us.” + </p> + <p> + “It was very gay indeed!” answered the young woman, making a wry face. + </p> + <p> + “So I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you! Then you are not hard to please. We went to the Vaudeville, it is + true, but separately, as we always do, I alone above, you below. At the + ball you looked as though you were burying the devil. At the supper table + your friends were as melancholy as a pair of owls. I obeyed your orders by + affecting hardly to know you. You imbibed like a sponge, without my being + able to tell whether you were drunk or not.” + </p> + <p> + “That proves,” interrupted Noel, “that we ought not to force our tastes. + Let us talk of something else.” + </p> + <p> + He took a few steps in the room, then looking at his watch said: “Almost + one o’clock; my love, I must leave you.” + </p> + <p> + “What! you are not going to remain?” + </p> + <p> + “No, to my great regret; my mother is dangerously ill.” + </p> + <p> + He unfolded and counted out on the table the bank notes he had received + from old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “My little Juliette,” said he, “here are not eight thousand francs, but + ten thousand. You will not see me again for a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you leaving Paris, then?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but my entire time will be absorbed by an affair of immense + importance to myself. If I succeed in my undertaking, my dear, our future + happiness is assured, and you will then see whether I love you!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear Noel, tell me what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot now.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me I beseech you,” pleaded the young woman, hanging round his neck, + raising herself upon the tips of her toes to press her lips to his. The + advocate embraced her; and his resolution seemed to waver. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he at length, “seriously I cannot. Of what use to awaken in you + hopes which can never be realized? Now, my darling, listen to me. Whatever + may happen, understand, you must under no pretext whatever again come to + my house, as you once had the imprudence to do. Do not even write to me. + By disobeying, you may do me an irreparable injury. If any accident + occurs, send that old rascal Clergot to me. I shall have a visit from him + the day after to-morrow, for he holds some bills of mine.” + </p> + <p> + Juliette recoiled, menacing Noel with a mutinous gesture. “You will not + tell me anything?” insisted she. + </p> + <p> + “Not this evening, but very soon,” replied the advocate, embarrassed by + the piercing glance of his mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Always some mystery!” cried Juliette, piqued at the want of success + attending her blandishments. + </p> + <p> + “This will be the last, I swear to you!” + </p> + <p> + “Noel, my good man,” said the young woman in a serious tone, “you are + hiding something from me. I understand you, as you know; for several days + past there has been something or other the matter with you, you have + completely changed.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you, Juliette—” + </p> + <p> + “No, swear nothing; I should not believe you. Only remember, no attempt at + deceiving me, I forewarn you. I am a woman capable of revenge.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate was evidently ill at ease. “The affair in question,” + stammered he, “can as well fail as succeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough,” interrupted Juliette; “your will shall be obeyed. I promise + that. Come, sir, kiss me. I am going to bed.” + </p> + <p> + The door was hardly shut upon Noel when Charlotte was installed on the + divan near her mistress. Had the advocate been listening at the door, he + might have heard Madame Juliette saying, “No, really, I can no longer + endure him. What a bore he is, my girl. Ah! if I was not so afraid of him, + wouldn’t I leave him at once? But he is capable of killing me!” + </p> + <p> + The girl vainly tried to defend Noel; but her mistress did not listen. She + murmured, “Why does he absent himself, and what is he plotting? An absence + of eight days is suspicious. Can he by any chance intend to be married? + Ah! if I only knew. You weary me to death, my good Noel, and I am + determined to leave you to yourself one of these fine mornings; but I + cannot permit you to quit me first. Supposing he is going to get married? + But I will not allow it. I must make inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + Noel, however, was not listening at the door. He went along the Rue de + Provence as quickly as possible, gained the Rue St. Lazare, and entered + the house as he had departed, by the stable door. He had but just sat down + in his study, when the servant knocked. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” cried she, “in heaven’s name answer me!” + </p> + <p> + He opened the door and said impatiently, “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” stammered the girl in tears, “this is the third time I have + knocked, and you have not answered. Come, I implore you. I am afraid + madame is dying!” + </p> + <p> + He followed her to Madame Gerdy’s room. He must have found the poor woman + terribly changed, for he could not restrain a movement of terror. The + invalid struggled painfully beneath her coverings. Her face was of a livid + paleness, as though there was not a drop of blood left in her veins; and + her eyes, which glittered with a sombre light, seemed filled with a fine + dust. Her hair, loose and disordered, falling over her cheeks and upon her + shoulders, contributed to her wild appearance. She uttered from time to + time a groan hardly audible, or murmured unintelligible words. At times, a + fiercer pang than the former ones forced a cry of anguish from her. She + did not recognise Noel. + </p> + <p> + “You see, sir,” said the servant. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Who would have supposed her malady could advance so rapidly? Quick, + run to Dr. Herve’s, tell him to get up, and to come at once, tell him it + is for me.” And he seated himself in an arm-chair, facing the suffering + woman. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Herve was one of Noel’s friends, an old school-fellow, and the + companion of his student days. The doctor’s history differed in nothing + from that of most young men, who, without fortune, friends, or influence, + enter upon the practice of the most difficult, the most hazardous of + professions that exist in Paris, where one sees so many talented young + doctors forced, to earn their bread, to place themselves at the + disposition of infamous drug vendors. A man of remarkable courage and + self-reliance, Herve, his studies over, said to himself, “No, I will not + go and bury myself in the country, I will remain in Paris, I will there + become celebrated. I shall be surgeon-in-chief of an hospital, and a + knight of the Legion of Honour.” + </p> + <p> + To enter upon this path of thorns, leading to a magnificent triumphal + arch, the future academician ran himself twenty thousand francs in debt to + furnish a small apartment. Here, armed with a patience which nothing could + fatigue, an iron resolution that nothing could subdue, he struggled and + waited. Only those who have experienced it can understand what sufferings + are endured by the poor, proud man, who waits in a black coat, freshly + shaven, with smiling lips, while he is starving of hunger! The refinements + of civilization have inaugurated punishments which put in the shade the + cruelties of the savage. The unknown physician must begin by attending the + poor who cannot pay him. Sometimes too the patient is ungrateful. He is + profuse in promises whilst in danger; but, when cured, he scorns the + doctor, and forgets to pay him his fee. + </p> + <p> + After seven years of heroic perseverance, Herve has secured at last a + circle of patients who pay him. During this he lived and paid the + exorbitant interest of his debt, but he is getting on. Three or four + pamphlets, and a prize won without much intrigue, have attracted public + attention to him. But he is no longer the brave young enthusiast, full of + the faith and hope that attended him on his first visits. He still wishes, + and more than ever, to acquire distinction, but he no longer expects any + pleasure from his success. He used up that feeling in the days when he had + not wherewith to pay for his dinner. No matter how great his fortune may + be in the days to come, he has already paid too dearly for it. For him + future success is only a kind of revenge. Less than thirty-five years old, + he is already sick of the world, and believes in nothing. Under the + appearance of universal benevolence he conceals universal scorn. His + finesse, sharpened by the grindstone of adversity, has become mischievous. + And, while he sees through all disguises worn by others, he hides his + penetration carefully under a mask of cheerful good nature and jovialness. + But he is kind, he loves his friends, and is devoted to them. + </p> + <p> + He arrived, hardly dressed, so great had been his haste. His first words + on entering were, “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Noel pressed his hand in silence, and by way of answer, pointed to the + bed. In less than a minute, the doctor seized the lamp, examined the sick + woman, and returned to his friend. “What has happened?” he asked sharply. + “It is necessary I should know.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate started at the question. “Know what?” stammered he. + </p> + <p> + “Everything!” answered Herve. “She is suffering from inflammation of the + brain. There is no mistaking that. It is by no means a common complaint, + in spite of the constant working of that organ. What can have caused it? + There appears to be no injury to the brain or its bony covering, the + mischief, then, must have been caused by some violent emotion, a great + grief, some unexpected catastrophe . . .” + </p> + <p> + Noel interrupted his friend by a gesture, and drew him into the embrasure + of the window. “Yes, my friend,” said he in a low tone, “Madame Gerdy has + experienced great mental suffering, she has been frightfully tortured by + remorse. Listen, Herve. I will confide our secret to your honour and your + friendship. Madame Gerdy is not my mother; she despoiled me, to enrich her + son with my fortune and my name. Three weeks ago I discovered this + unworthy fraud; she knows it, and the consequences terrify her. Ever + since, she has been dying minute by minute.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate expected some exclamations of astonishment, and a host of + questions from his friend; but the doctor received the explanation without + remark, as a simple statement, indispensable to his understanding the + case. + </p> + <p> + “Three weeks,” he murmured; “then, that explains everything. Has she + appeared to suffer much during the time?” + </p> + <p> + “She complained of violent headaches, dimness of sight, and intolerable + pains in her ears, she attributed all that though to megrims. Do not, + however, conceal anything from me, Herve; is her complaint very serious?” + </p> + <p> + “So serious, my friend, so invariably fatal, that I am almost undertaking + a hopeless task in attempting a cure.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! good heaven!” + </p> + <p> + “You asked for the truth, and I have told it you. If I had that courage, + it was because you told me this poor woman is not your mother. Nothing + short of a miracle can save her; but this miracle we may hope and prepare + for. And now to work!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + The clock of the St. Lazare terminus was striking eleven as old Tabaret, + after shaking hands with Noel, left his house, still bewildered by what he + had just heard. Obliged to restrain himself at the time, he now fully + appreciated his liberty of action. It was with an unsteady gait that he + took his first steps in the street, like the toper, who, after being shut + up in a warm room, suddenly goes out into the open air. He was beaming + with pleasure, but at the same time felt rather giddy, from that rapid + succession of unexpected revelations, which, so he thought, had suddenly + placed him in possession of the truth. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding his haste to arrive at M. Daburon’s he did not take a cab. + He felt the necessity of walking. He was one of those who require exercise + to see things clearly. When he moved about his ideas fitted and classified + themselves in his brain, like grains of wheat when shaken in a bushel. + Without hastening his pace, he reached the Rue de la Chaussee d’Antin, + crossed the Boulevard with its resplendent cafes, and turned to the Rue + Richelieu. + </p> + <p> + He walked along, unconscious of external objects, tripping and stumbling + over the inequalities of the sidewalk, or slipping on the greasy pavement. + If he followed the proper road, it was a purely mechanical impulse that + guided him. His mind was wandering at random through the field of + probabilities, and following in the darkness the mysterious thread, the + almost imperceptible end of which he had seized at La Jonchere. + </p> + <p> + Like all persons labouring under strong emotion without knowing it, he + talked aloud, little thinking into what indiscreet ears his exclamations + and disjointed phrases might fall. At every step, we meet in Paris people + babbling to themselves, and unconsciously confiding to the four winds of + heaven their dearest secrets, like cracked vases that allow their contents + to steal away. Often the passers-by mistake these eccentric monologuists + for lunatics. Sometimes the curious follow them, and amuse themselves by + receiving these strange confidences. It was an indiscretion of this kind + which told the ruin of Riscara the rich banker. Lambreth, the assassin of + the Rue de Venise, betrayed himself in a similar manner. + </p> + <p> + “What luck!” exclaimed old Tabaret. “What an incredible piece of good + fortune! Gevrol may dispute it if he likes, but after all, chance is the + cleverest agent of the police. Who would have imagined such a history? I + was not, however, very far from the reality. I guessed there was a child + in the case. But who would have dreamed of a substitution?—an old + sensational effect, that playwrights no longer dare make use of. This is a + striking example of the danger of following preconceived ideas in police + investigation. We are affrighted at unlikelihood; and, as in this case, + the greatest unlikelihood often proves to be the truth. We retire before + the absurd, and it is the absurd that we should examine. Everything is + possible. I would not take a thousand crowns for what I have learnt this + evening. I shall kill two birds with one stone. I deliver up the criminal; + and I give Noel a hearty lift up to recover his title and his fortune. + There, at least; is one who deserves what he will get. For once I shall + not be sorry to see a lad get on, who has been brought up in the school of + adversity. But, pshaw! he will be like all the rest. Prosperity will turn + his brain. Already he begins to prate of his ancestors. . . . Poor + humanity he almost made me laugh. . . . But it is mother Gerdy who + surprises me most. A woman to whom I would have given absolution without + waiting to hear her confess. When I think that I was on the point of + proposing to her, ready to marry her! B-r-r-r!” + </p> + <p> + At this thought, the old fellow shivered. He saw himself married, and all + on a sudden, discovering the antecedents of Madame Tabaret, becoming mixed + up with a scandalous prosecution, compromised, and rendered ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + “When I think,” he continued, “that my worthy Gevrol is running after the + man with the earrings! Run, my boy, run! Travel is a good thing for youth. + Won’t he be vexed? He will wish me dead. But I don’t care. If any one + wishes to do me an injury, M. Daburon will protect me. Ah! there is one to + whom I am going to do a good turn. I can see him now, opening his eyes + like saucers, when I say to him, ‘I have the rascal!’ He can boast of + owing me something. This investigation will bring him honour, or justice + is not justice. He will, at least, be made an officer of the Legion of + Honour. So much the better! I like him. If he is asleep, I am going to + give him an agreeable awaking. Won’t he just overpower me with questions! + He will want to know everything at once.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret, who was now crossing the Pont des Saints-Peres, stopped + suddenly. “But the details!” said he. “By Jove! I have none. I only know + the bare facts.” He resumed his walk, and continued, “They are right at + the office, I am too enthusiastic; I jump at conclusions, as Gevrol says. + When I was with Noel, I should have cross-examined him, got hold of a + quantity of useful details; but I did not even think of doing so. I drank + in his words. I would have had him tell the story in a sentence. All the + same, it is but natural; when one is pursuing a stag, one does not stop to + shoot a blackbird. But I see very well now, I did not draw him out enough. + On the other hand, by questioning him more, I might have awakened + suspicions in Noel’s mind, and led him to discover that I am working for + the Rue de Jerusalem. To be sure, I do not blush for my connection with + the police, I am even vain of it; but at the same time, I prefer that no + one should know of it. People are so stupid, that they detest the police, + who protect them; I must be calm and on my best behaviour, for here I am + at the end of my journey.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had just gone to bed, but had given orders to his servant; so + that M. Tabaret had but to give his name, to be at once conducted to the + magistrate’s sleeping apartment. At sight of his amateur detective, M. + Daburon raised himself in his bed, saying, “There is something + extraordinary! What have you discovered? have you got a clue?” + </p> + <p> + “Better than that,” answered the old fellow, smiling with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Speak quickly!” + </p> + <p> + “I know the culprit!” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret ought to have been satisfied; he certainly produced an effect. + The magistrate bounded in his bed. “Already!” said he. “Is it possible?” + </p> + <p> + “I have the honour to repeat to you, sir,” resumed the old fellow, “that I + know the author of the crime of La Jonchere.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said M. Daburon, “I proclaim you the greatest of all detectives, + past or future. I shall certainly never hereafter undertake an + investigation without your assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too kind, sir. I have had little or nothing to do in the matter. + The discovery is due to chance alone.” + </p> + <p> + “You are modest, M. Tabaret. Chance assists only the clever, and it is + that which annoys the stupid. But I beg you will be seated and proceed.” + </p> + <p> + Then with the lucidness and precision of which few would have believed him + capable, the old fellow repeated to the magistrate all that he had learned + from Noel. He quoted from memory the extracts from the letters, almost + without changing a word. + </p> + <p> + “These letters,” added he, “I have seen; and I have even taken one, in + order to verify the writing. Here it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” murmured the magistrate—“Yes, M. Tabaret, you have discovered + the criminal. The evidence is palpable, even to the blind. Heaven has + willed this. Crime engenders crime. The great sin of the father has made + the son an assassin.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not given you the names, sir,” resumed old Tabaret. “I wished + first to hear your opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you can name them,” interrupted M. Daburon with a certain degree of + animation, “no matter how high he may have to strike, a French magistrate + has never hesitated.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, sir, but we are going very high this time. The father who has + sacrificed his legitimate son for the sake of his bastard is Count Rheteau + de Commarin, and the assassin of Widow Lerouge is the bastard, Viscount + Albert de Commarin!” + </p> + <p> + M. Tabaret, like an accomplished artist, had uttered these words slowly, + and with a deliberate emphasis, confidently expecting to produce a great + impression. His expectation was more than realized. M. Daburon was struck + with stupor. He remained motionless, his eyes dilated with astonishment. + Mechanically he repeated like a word without meaning which he was trying + to impress upon his memory: “Albert de Commarin! Albert de Commarin!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” insisted old Tabaret, “the noble viscount. It is incredible, I + know.” But he perceived the alteration in the magistrate’s face, and a + little frightened, he approached the bed. “Are you unwell, sir?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered M. Daburon, without exactly knowing what he said. “I am + very well; but the surprise, the emotion,—” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that,” said the old fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is not surprising, is it? I should like to be alone a few + minutes. Do not leave the house though; we must converse at some length on + this business. Kindly pass into my study, there ought still to be a fire + burning there. I will join you directly.” + </p> + <p> + Then M. Daburon slowly got out of bed, put on a dressing gown, and seated + himself, or rather fell, into an armchair. His face, to which in the + exercise of his austere functions he had managed to give the immobility of + marble, reflected the most cruel agitation; while his eyes betrayed the + inward agony of his soul. The name of Commarin, so unexpectedly + pronounced, awakened in him the most sorrowful recollections, and tore + open a wound but badly healed. This name recalled to him an event which + had rudely extinguished his youth and spoilt his life. Involuntarily, he + carried his thoughts back to this epoch, so as to taste again all its + bitterness. An hour ago, it had seemed to him far removed, and already + hidden in the mists of the past; one word had sufficed to recall it, clear + and distinct. It seemed to him now that this event, in which the name of + Albert de Commarin was mixed up, dated from yesterday. In reality nearly + two years elapsed since. + </p> + <p> + Pierre-Marie Daburon belonged to one of the oldest families of Poitou. + Three or four of his ancestors had filled successively the most important + positions in the province. Why, then, had they not bequeathed a title and + a coat of arms to their descendants? + </p> + <p> + The magistrate’s father possesses, round about the ugly modern chateau + which he inhabits, more than eight hundred thousand francs’ worth of the + most valuable land. By his mother, a Cottevise-Luxe, he is related to the + highest nobility of Poitou, one of the most exclusive that exists in + France, as every one knows. + </p> + <p> + When he received his nomination in Paris, his relationship caused him to + be received at once by five or six aristocratic families, and it was not + long before he extended his circle of acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + He possessed, however, none of the qualifications which ensure social + success. He was cold and grave even to sadness, reserved and timid even to + excess. His mind wanted brilliancy and lightness; he lacked the facility + of repartee, and the amiable art of conversing without a subject; he could + neither tell a lie, nor pay an insipid compliment. Like most men who feel + deeply, he was unable to interpret his impressions immediately. He + required to reflect and consider within himself. + </p> + <p> + However, he was sought after for more solid qualities than these: for the + nobleness of his sentiments, his pleasant disposition, and the certainty + of his connections. Those who knew him intimately quickly learned to + esteem his sound judgment, his keen sense of honour, and to discover under + his cold exterior a warm heart, an excessive sensibility, and a delicacy + almost feminine. In a word, although he might be eclipsed in a room full + of strangers or simpletons, he charmed all hearts in a smaller circle, + where he felt warmed by an atmosphere of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + He accustomed himself to go about a great deal. He reasoned, wisely + perhaps, that a magistrate can make better use of his time than by + remaining shut up in his study, in company with books of law. He thought + that a man called upon to judge others, ought to know them, and for that + purpose study them. An attentive and discreet observer, he examined the + play of human interests and passions, exercised himself in disentangling + and manoeuvring at need the strings of the puppets he saw moving around + him. Piece by piece, so to say, he laboured to comprehend the working of + the complicated machine called society, of which he was charged to + overlook the movements, regulate the springs, and keep the wheels in + order. + </p> + <p> + And on a sudden, in the early part of the winter of 1860 and 1861, M. + Daburon disappeared. His friends sought for him, but he was nowhere to be + met with. What could he be doing? Inquiry resulted in the discovery that + he passed nearly all his evenings at the house of the Marchioness + d’Arlange. The surprise was as great as it was natural. + </p> + <p> + This dear marchioness was, or rather is,—for she is still in the + land of the living,—a personage whom one would consider rather out + of date. She is surely the most singular legacy bequeathed us by the + eighteenth century. How, and by what marvellous process she had been + preserved such as we see her, it is impossible to say. Listening to her, + you would swear that she was yesterday at one of those parties given by + the queen where cards and high stakes were the rule, much to the annoyance + of Louis XIV., and where the great ladies cheated openly in emulation of + each other. + </p> + <p> + Manners, language, habits, almost costume, she has preserved everything + belonging to that period about which authors have written only to display + the defects. Her appearance alone will tell more than an exhaustive + article, and an hour’s conversation with her, more than a volume. + </p> + <p> + She was born in a little principality, where her parents had taken refuge + whilst awaiting the chastisements and repentance of an erring and + rebellious people. She had been brought up amongst the old nobles of the + emigration, in some very ancient and very gilded apartment, just as though + she had been in a cabinet of curiosities. Her mind had awakened amid the + hum of antediluvian conversations, her imagination had first been aroused + by arguments a little less profitable than those of an assembly of deaf + persons convoked to decide upon the merits of the work of some + distinguished musician. Here she imbibed a fund of ideas, which, applied + to the forms of society of to-day, are as grotesque as would be those of a + child shut up until twenty years of age in an Assyrian museum. + </p> + <p> + The first empire, the restoration, the monarchy of July, the second + republic, the second empire, have passed beneath her windows, but she has + not taken the trouble to open them. All that has happened since ‘89 she + considers as never having been. For her it is a nightmare from which she + is still awaiting a release. She has looked at everything, but then she + looks through her own pretty glasses which show her everything as she + would wish it, and which are to be obtained of dealers in illusions. + </p> + <p> + Though over sixty-eight years old she is as straight as a poplar, and has + never been ill. She is vivacious, and active to excess, and can only keep + still when asleep, or when playing her favorite game of piquet. She has + her four meals a day, eats like a vintager, and takes her wine neat. She + professes an undisguised contempt for the silly women of our century who + live for a week on a partridge, and inundate with water grand sentiments + which they entangle in long phrases. She has always been, and still is, + very positive, and her word is prompt and easily understood. She never + shrinks from using the most appropriate word to express her meaning. So + much the worse, if some delicate ears object! She heartily detests + hypocrisy. + </p> + <p> + She believes in God, but she believes also in M. de Voltaire, so that her + devotion is, to say the least, problematical. However, she is on good + terms with the curate of her parish, and is very particular about the + arrangement of her dinner on the days she honours him with an invitation + to her table. She seems to consider him a subaltern, very useful to her + salvation, and capable of opening the gate of paradise for her. + </p> + <p> + Such as she is, she is shunned like the plague. Everybody dreads her loud + voice, her terrible indiscretion, and the frankness of speech which she + affects, in order to have the right of saying the most unpleasant things + which pass through her head. Of all her family, there only remains her + granddaughter, whose father died very young. + </p> + <p> + Of a fortune originally large, and partly restored by the indemnity + allowed by the government, but since administered in the most careless + manner, she has only been able to preserve an income of twenty thousand + francs, which diminishes day by day. She is, also, proprietor of the + pretty little house which she inhabits, situated near the Invalides, + between a rather narrow court-yard, and a very extensive garden. + </p> + <p> + So circumstanced, she considers herself the most unfortunate of God’s + creatures, and passes the greater part of her life complaining of her + poverty. From time to time, especially after some exceptionally bad + speculation, she confesses that what she fears most is to die in a + pauper’s bed. + </p> + <p> + A friend of M. Daburon’s presented him one evening to the Marchioness + d’Arlange, having dragged him to her house in a mirthful mood, saying, + “Come with me, and I will show you a phenomenon, a ghost of the past in + flesh and bone.” + </p> + <p> + The marchioness rather puzzled the magistrate the first time he was + admitted to her presence. On his second visit, she amused him very much; + for which reason, he came again. But after a while she no longer amused + him, though he still continued a faithful and constant visitor to the + rose-coloured boudoir wherein she passed the greater part of her life. + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Arlange conceived a violent friendship for him, and became + eloquent in his praises. + </p> + <p> + “A most charming young man,” she declared, “delicate and sensible! What a + pity he is not born!” (Her ladyship meant born of noble parentage, but + used the phrase as ignoring the fact of the unfortunates who are not noble + having been born at all) “One can receive him though, all the same; his + forefathers were very decent people, and his mother was a Cottevise who, + however, went wrong. I wish him well, and will do all I can to push him + forward.” + </p> + <p> + The strongest proof of friendship he received from her was, that she + condescended to pronounce his name like the rest of the world. She had + preserved that ridiculous affectation of forgetfulness of the names of + people who were not of noble birth, and who in her opinion had no right to + names. She was so confirmed in this habit, that, if by accident she + pronounced such a name correctly, she immediately repeated it with some + ludicrous alteration. During his first visit, M. Daburon was extremely + amused at hearing his name altered every time she addressed him. + Successively she made it Taburon, Dabiron, Maliron, Laliron, Laridon; but, + in three months time, she called him Daburon as distinctly as if he had + been a duke of something, and a lord of somewhere. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally she exerted herself to prove to the worthy magistrate that he + was a nobleman, or at least ought to be. She would have been happy, if she + could have persuaded him to adopt some title, and have a helmet engraved + upon his visiting cards. + </p> + <p> + “How is it possible,” said she, “that your ancestors, eminent, wealthy, + and influential, never thought of being raised from the common herd and + securing a title for their descendants? Today you would possess a + presentable pedigree.—” + </p> + <p> + “My ancestors were wise,” responded M. Daburon. “They preferred being + foremost among their fellow-citizens to becoming last among the nobles.” + </p> + <p> + Upon which the marchioness explained, and proved to demonstration, that + between the most influential and wealthy citizen and the smallest scion of + nobility, there was an abyss that all the money in the world could not + fill up. + </p> + <p> + They who were so surprised at the frequency of the magistrate’s visits to + this celebrated “relic of the past” did not know that lady’s + granddaughter, or, at least, did not recollect her; she went out so + seldom! The old marchioness did not care, so she said, to be bothered with + a young spy who would be in her way when she related some of her choice + anecdotes. + </p> + <p> + Claire d’Arlange was just seventeen years old. She was extremely graceful + and gentle in manner, and lovely in her natural innocence. She had a + profusion of fine light brown hair, which fell in ringlets over her + well-shaped neck and shoulders. Her figure was still rather slender; but + her features recalled Guide’s most celestial faces. Her blue eyes, shaded + by long lashes of a hue darker than her hair, had above all an adorable + expression. + </p> + <p> + A certain air of antiquity, the result of her association with her + grandmother, added yet another charm to the young girl’s manner. She had + more sense, however, than her relative; and, as her education had not been + neglected, she had imbibed pretty correct ideas of the world in which she + lived. This education, these practical ideas, Claire owed to her + governess, upon whose shoulders the marchioness had thrown the entire + responsibility of cultivating her mind. + </p> + <p> + This governess, Mademoiselle Schmidt, chosen at hazard, happened by the + most fortunate chance to be both well informed and possessed of principle. + She was, what is often met with on the other side of the Rhine, a woman at + once romantic and practical, of the tenderest sensibility and the severest + virtue. This good woman, while she carried her pupil into the land of + sentimental phantasy and poetical imaginings, gave her at the same time + the most practical instruction in matters relating to actual life. She + revealed to Claire all the peculiarities of thought and manner that + rendered her grandmother so ridiculous, and taught her to avoid them, but + without ceasing to respect them. + </p> + <p> + Every evening, on arriving at Madame d’Arlange’s, M. Daburon was sure to + find Claire seated beside her grandmother, and it was for that that he + called. Whilst listening with an inattentive ear to the old lady’s + rigmaroles and her interminable anecdotes of the emigration, he gazed upon + Claire, as a fanatic upon his idol. Often in his ecstasy he forgot where + he was for the moment and became absolutely oblivious of the old lady’s + presence, although her shrill voice was piercing the tympanum of his ear + like a needle. Then he would answer her at cross-purposes, committing the + most singular blunders, which he labored afterwards to explain. But he + need not have taken the trouble. Madame d’Arlange did not perceive her + courtier’s absence of mind; her questions were of such a length, that she + did not care about the answers. Having a listener, she was satisfied, + provided that from time to time he gave signs of life. + </p> + <p> + When obliged to sit down to play piquet, he cursed below his breath the + game and its detestable inventor. He paid no attention to his cards. He + made mistakes every moment, discarding what he should keep in and + forgetting to cut. The old lady was annoyed by these continual + distractions, but she did scruple to profit by them. She looked at the + discard, changed the cards which did not suit her, while she audaciously + scored points she never made, and pocketed the money thus won without + shame or remorse. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon’s timidity was extreme, and Claire was unsociable to excess, + they therefore seldom spoke to each other. During the entire winter, the + magistrate did not directly address the young girl ten times; and, on + these rare occasions, he had learned mechanically by heart the phrase he + proposed to repeat to her, well knowing that, without this precaution, he + would most likely be unable to finish what he had to say. + </p> + <p> + But at least he saw her, he breathed the same air with her, he heard her + voice, whose pure and harmonious vibrations thrilled his very soul. + </p> + <p> + By constantly watching her eyes, he learned to understand all their + expressions. He believed he could read in them all her thoughts, and + through them look into her soul like through an open window. + </p> + <p> + “She is pleased to-day,” he would say to himself; and then he would be + happy. At other times, he thought, “She has met with some annoyance + to-day;” and immediately he became sad. + </p> + <p> + The idea of asking for her hand many times presented itself to his + imagination; but he never dared to entertain it. Knowing, as he did, the + marchioness’s prejudices, her devotion to titles, her dread of any + approach to a misalliance, he was convinced she would shut his mouth at + the first word by a very decided “no,” which she would maintain. To + attempt the thing would be to risk, without a chance of success, his + present happiness which he thought immense, for love lives upon its own + misery. + </p> + <p> + “Once repulsed,” thought he, “the house is shut against me; and then + farewell to happiness, for life will end for me.” Upon the other hand, the + very rational thought occurred to him that another might see Mademoiselle + d’Arlange, love her, and, in consequence, ask for and obtain her. In + either case, hazarding a proposal, or hesitating still, he must certainly + lose her in the end. By the commencement of spring, his mind was made up. + </p> + <p> + One fine afternoon, in the month of April, he bent his steps towards the + residence of Madame d’Arlange, having truly need of more bravery than a + soldier about to face a battery. He, like the soldier, whispered to + himself, “Victory or death!” The marchioness who had gone out shortly + after breakfast had just returned in a terrible rage, and was uttering + screams like an eagle. + </p> + <p> + This was what had taken place. She had some work done by a neighboring + painter some eight or ten months before; and the workman had presented + himself a hundred times to receive payment, without avail. Tired of this + proceeding, he had summoned the high and mighty Marchioness d’Arlange + before the Justice of the Peace. + </p> + <p> + This summons had exasperated the marchioness; but she kept the matter to + herself, having decided, in her wisdom, to call upon the judge and request + him to reprimand the insolent painter who had dared to plague her for a + paltry sum of money. The result of this fine project may be guessed. The + judge had been compelled to eject her forcibly from his office; hence her + fury. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon found her in the rose-colored boudoir half undressed, her hair + in disorder, red as a peony, and surrounded by the debris of the glass and + china which had fallen under her hands in the first moments of her + passion. Unfortunately, too, Claire and her governess were gone out. A + maid was occupied in inundating the old lady with all sorts of waters, in + the hope of calming her nerves. + </p> + <p> + She received Daburon as a messenger direct from Providence. In a little + more than half an hour, she told her story, interlarded with numerous + interjections and imprecations. + </p> + <p> + “Do you comprehend this judge?” cried she. “He must be some frantic + Jacobin,—some son of the furies, who washed their hands in the blood + of their king. Ah! my friend, I read stupor and indignation in your + glance. He listened to the complaint of that impudent scoundrel whom I + enabled to live by employing him! And when I addressed some severe + remonstrances to this judge, as it was my duty to do, he had me turned + out! Do you hear? turned out!” + </p> + <p> + At this painful recollection, she made a menacing gesture with her arm. In + her sudden movement, she struck a handsome scent bottle that her maid held + in her hand. The force of the blow sent it to the other end of the room, + where it broke into pieces. + </p> + <p> + “Stupid, awkward fool!” cried the marchioness, venting her anger upon the + frightened girl. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon, bewildered at first, now endeavored to calm her exasperation. + She did not allow him to pronounce three words. + </p> + <p> + “Happily you are here,” she continued; “you are always willing to serve + me, I know. I count upon you! you will exercise your influence, your + powerful friends, your credit, to have this pitiful painter and this + miscreant of a judge flung into some deep ditch, to teach them the respect + due to a woman of my rank.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate did not permit himself even to smile at this imperative + demand. He had heard many speeches as absurd issue from her lips without + ever making fun of them. Was she not Claire’s grandmother? for that alone + he loved and venerated her. He blessed her for her granddaughter, as an + admirer of nature blesses heaven for the wild flower that delights him + with its perfume. + </p> + <p> + The fury of the old lady was terrible; nor was it of short duration. At + the end of an hour, however, she was, or appeared to be, pacified. They + replaced her head-dress, repaired the disorder of her toilette, and picked + up the fragments of broken glass and china. Vanquished by her own + violence, the reaction was immediate and complete. She fell back helpless + and exhausted into an arm-chair. + </p> + <p> + This magnificent result was due to the magistrate. To accomplish it, he + had had to use all his ability, to exercise the most angelic patience, the + greatest tact. His triumph was the more meritorious, because he came + completely unprepared for this adventure, which interfered with his + intended proposal. The first time that he had felt sufficient courage to + speak, fortune seemed to declare against him, for this untoward event had + quite upset his plans. + </p> + <p> + Arming himself, however, with his professional eloquence, he talked the + old lady into calmness. He was not so foolish as to contradict her. On the + contrary, he caressed her hobby. He was humorous and pathetic by turns. He + attacked the authors of the revolution, cursed its errors, deplored its + crimes, and almost wept over its disastrous results. Commencing with the + infamous Marat he eventually reached the rascal of a judge who had + offended her. He abused his scandalous conduct in good set terms, and was + exceedingly severe upon the dishonest scamp of a painter. However, he + thought it best to let them off the punishment they so richly deserved; + and ended by suggesting that it would perhaps be prudent, wise, noble even + to pay. + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate word “pay” brought Madame d’Arlange to her feet in the + fiercest attitude. + </p> + <p> + “Pay!” she screamed. “In order that these scoundrels may persist in their + obduracy! Encourage them by a culpable weakness! Never! Besides to pay one + must have money! and I have none!” + </p> + <p> + “Why!” said M. Daburon, “it amounts to but eighty-seven francs!” + </p> + <p> + “And is that nothing?” asked the marchioness; “you talk very foolishly, my + dear sir. It is easy to see that you have money; your ancestors were + people of no rank; and the revolution passed a hundred feet above their + heads. Who can tell whether they may not have been the gainers by it? It + took all from the d’Arlanges. What will they do to me, if I do not pay?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, madame, they can do many things; almost ruin you, in costs. They + may seize your furniture.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” cried the old lady, “the revolution is not ended yet. We shall all + be swallowed up by it, my poor Daburon! Ah! you are happy, you who belong + to the people! I see plainly that I must pay this man without delay, and + it is frightfully sad for me, for I have nothing, and am forced to make + such sacrifices for the sake of my grandchild!” + </p> + <p> + This statement surprised the magistrate so strongly that involuntarily he + repeated half-aloud, “Sacrifices?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly!” resumed Madame d’Arlange. “Without her, would I have to live + as I am doing, refusing myself everything to make both ends meet? Not a + bit of it! I would invest my fortune in a life annuity. But I know, thank + heaven, the duties of a mother; and I economise all I can for my little + Claire.” + </p> + <p> + This devotion appeared so admirable to M. Daburon, that he could not utter + a word. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I am terribly anxious about this dear child,” continued the + marchioness. “I confess M. Daburon, it makes me giddy when I wonder how I + am to marry her.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate reddened with pleasure. At last his opportunity had + arrived; he must take advantage of it at once. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” stammered he, “that to find Mademoiselle Claire a + husband ought not to be difficult.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately, it is. She is pretty enough, I admit, although rather + thin, but, now-a-days, beauty goes for nothing. Men are so mercenary they + think only of money. I do not know of one who has the manhood to take a + d’Arlange with her bright eyes for a dowry.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe that you exaggerate,” remarked M. Daburon, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “By no means. Trust to my experience which is far greater than yours. + Besides, when I find a son-in-law, he will cause me a thousand troubles. + Of this, I am assured by my lawyer. I shall be compelled, it seems, to + render an account of Claire’s patrimony. As if ever I kept accounts! It is + shameful! Ah! if Claire had any sense of filial duty, she would quietly + take the veil in some convent. I would use every effort to pay the + necessary dower; but she has no affection for me.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon felt that now was the time to speak. He collected his courage, + as a good horseman pulls his horse together when going to leap a hedge, + and in a voice, which he tried to render firm, he said: “Well! Madame, I + believe I know a party who would suit Mademoiselle Claire,—an honest + man, who loves her, and who will do everything in the world to make her + happy.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Madame d’Arlange, “is always understood.” + </p> + <p> + “The man of whom I speak,” continued the magistrate, “is still young, and + is rich. He will be only too happy to receive Mademoiselle Claire without + a dowry. Not only will he decline an examination of your accounts of + guardianship, but he will beg you to invest your fortune as you think + fit.” + </p> + <p> + “Really! Daburon, my friend, you are by no means a fool!” exclaimed the + old lady. + </p> + <p> + “If you prefer not to invest your fortune in a life-annuity, your + son-in-law will allow you sufficient to make up what you now find + wanting.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! really I am stifling,” interrupted the marchioness. “What! you know + such a man, and have never yet mentioned him to me! You ought to have + introduced him long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not dare, madame, I was afraid—” + </p> + <p> + “Quick! tell me who is this admirable son-in-law, this white blackbird? + where does he nestle?” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate felt a strange fluttering of the heart; he was going to + stake his happiness on a word. At length he stammered, “It is I, madame!” + </p> + <p> + His voice, his look, his gesture were beseeching. He was surprised at his + own audacity, frightened at having vanquished his timidity, and was on the + point of falling at the old lady’s feet. She, however, laughed until the + tears came into her eyes, then shrugging her shoulders, she said: “Really, + dear Daburon is too ridiculous, he will make me die of laughing! He is so + amusing!” After which she burst out laughing again. But suddenly she + stopped, in the very height of her merriment, and assumed her most + dignified air. “Are you perfectly serious in all you have told me, M. + Daburon?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have stated the truth,” murmured the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “You are then very rich?” + </p> + <p> + “I inherited, madame, from my mother, about twenty thousand francs a year. + One of my uncles, who died last year, bequeathed me over a hundred + thousand crowns. My father is worth about a million. Were I to ask him for + the half to-morrow, he would give it to me; he would give me all his + fortune, if it were necessary to my happiness, and be but too well + contented, should I leave him the administration of it.” + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Arlange signed to him to be silent; and, for five good minutes at + least, she remained plunged in reflection, her forehead resting in her + hands. At length she raised her head. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” said she. “Had you been so bold as to make this proposal to + Claire’s father, he would have called his servants to show you the door. + For the sake of our name I ought to do the same; but I cannot do so. I am + old and desolate; I am poor; my grandchild’s prospects disquiet me; that + is my excuse. I cannot, however, consent to speak to Claire of this + horrible misalliance. What I can promise you, and that is too much, is + that I will not be against you. Take your own measures; pay your addresses + to Mademoiselle d’Arlange, and try to persuade her. If she says ‘yes,’ of + her own free will, I shall not say ‘no.’” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon, transported with happiness, could almost have embraced the old + lady. He thought her the best, the most excellent of women, not noticing + the facility with which this proud spirit had been brought to yield. He + was delirious, almost mad. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” said the old lady; “your cause is not yet gained. Your mother, it + is true, was a Cottevise, and I must excuse her for marrying so + wretchedly; but your father is simple M. Daburon. This name, my dear + friend, is simply ridiculous. Do you think it will be easy to make a + Daburon of a young girl who for nearly eighteen years has been called + d’Arlange?” + </p> + <p> + This objection did not seem to trouble the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” continued the old lady, “your father gained a Cottevise, so + you may win a d’Arlange. On the strength of marrying into noble families, + the Daburons may perhaps end by ennobling themselves. One last piece of + advice; you believe Claire to be just as she looks,—timid, sweet, + obedient. Undeceive yourself, my friend. Despite her innocent air, she is + hardy, fierce, and obstinate as the marquis her father, who was worse than + an Auvergne mule. Now you are warned. Our conditions are agreed to, are + they not? Let us say no more on the subject. I almost wish you to + succeed.” + </p> + <p> + This scene was so present to the magistrate’s mind, that as he sat at home + in his arm-chair, though many months had passed since these events, he + still seemed to hear the old lady’s voice, and the word “success” still + sounded in his ears. + </p> + <p> + He departed in triumph from the d’Arlange abode, which he had entered with + a heart swelling with anxiety. He walked with his head erect, his chest + dilated, and breathing the fresh air with the full strength of his lungs. + He was so happy! The sky appeared to him more blue, the sun more + brilliant. This grave magistrate felt a mad desire to stop the passers-by, + to press them in his arms, to cry to them,—“Have you heard? The + marchioness consents!” + </p> + <p> + He walked, and the earth seemed to him to give way beneath his footsteps; + it was either too small to carry so much happiness, or else he had become + so light that he was going to fly away towards the stars. + </p> + <p> + What castles in the air he built upon what Madame d’Arlange had said to + him! He would tender his resignation. He would build on the banks of the + Loire, not far from Tours, an enchanting little villa. He already saw it, + with its facade to the rising sun, nestling in the midst of flowers, and + shaded with wide-spreading trees. He furnished this dwelling in the most + luxuriant style. He wished to provide a marvellous casket, worthy the + pearl he was about to possess. For he had not a doubt; not a cloud + obscured the horizon made radiant by his hopes, no voice at the bottom of + his heart raised itself to cry, “Beware!” + </p> + <p> + From that day, his visits to the marchioness became more frequent. He + might almost be said to live at her house. While he preserved his + respectful and reserved demeanour towards Claire, he strove assiduously to + be something in her life. True love is ingenious. He learnt to overcome + his timidity, to speak to the well-beloved of his soul, to encourage her + to converse with him, to interest her. He went in quest of all the news, + to amuse her. He read all the new books, and brought to her all that were + fit for her to read. + </p> + <p> + Little by little he succeeded, thanks to the most delicate persistence, in + taming this shy young girl. He began to perceive that her fear of him had + almost disappeared, that she no longer received him with the cold and + haughty air which had previously kept him at a distance. He felt that he + was insensibly gaining her confidence. She still blushed when she spoke to + him; but she no longer hesitated to address the first word. She even + ventured at times to ask him a question. If she had heard a play well + spoken of and wished to know the subject, M. Daburon would at once go to + see it, and commit a complete account of it to writing, which he would + send her through the post. At times she intrusted him with trifling + commissions, the execution of which he would not have exchanged for the + Russian embassy. + </p> + <p> + Once he ventured to send her a magnificent bouquet. She accepted it with + an air of uneasy surprise, but begged him not to repeat the offering. + </p> + <p> + The tears came to his eyes; he left her presence broken-hearted, and the + unhappiest of men. “She does not love me,” thought he, “she will never + love me.” But, three days after, as he looked very sad, she begged him to + procure her certain flowers, then very much in fashion, which she wished + to place on her flower-stand. He sent enough to fill the house from the + garret to the cellar. “She will love me,” he whispered to himself in his + joy. + </p> + <p> + These events, so trifling but yet so great, had not interrupted the games + of piquet; only the young girl now appeared to interest herself in the + play, nearly always taking the magistrate’s side against the marchioness. + She did not understand the game very well; but, when the old gambler + cheated too openly, she would notice it, and say, laughingly,—“She + is robbing you, M. Daburon,—she is robbing you!” He would willingly + have been robbed of his entire fortune, to hear that sweet voice raised on + his behalf. + </p> + <p> + It was summer time. Often in the evening she accepted his arm, and, while + the marchioness remained at the window, seated in her arm-chair, they + walked around the lawn, treading lightly upon the paths spread with gravel + sifted so fine that the trailing of her light dress effaced the traces of + their footsteps. She chatted gaily with him, as with a beloved brother, + while he was obliged to do violence to his feelings, to refrain from + imprinting a kiss upon the little blonde head, from which the light breeze + lifted the curls and scattered them like fleecy clouds. At such moments, + he seemed to tread an enchanted path strewn with flowers, at the end of + which appeared happiness. + </p> + <p> + When he attempted to speak of his hopes to the marchioness, she would say: + “You know what we agreed upon. Not a word. Already does the voice of + conscience reproach me for lending my countenance to such an abomination. + To think that I may one day have a granddaughter calling herself Madame + Daburon! You must petition the king, my friend, to change your name.” + </p> + <p> + If instead of intoxicating himself with dreams of happiness, this acute + observer had studied the character of his idol, the effect might have been + to put him upon his guard. In the meanwhile, he noticed singular + alterations in her humour. On certain days, she was gay and careless as a + child. Then, for a week, she would remain melancholy and dejected. Seeing + her in this state the day following a ball, to which her grandmother had + made a point of taking her, he dared to ask her the reason of her sadness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that,” answered she, heaving a deep sigh, “is my secret,—a + secret of which even my grandmother knows nothing.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon looked at her. He thought he saw a tear between her long + eyelashes. + </p> + <p> + “One day,” continued she, “I may confide in you: it will perhaps be + necessary.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate was blind and deaf. “I also,” answered he, “have a secret, + which I wish to confide to you in return.” + </p> + <p> + When he retired towards midnight, he said to himself, “To-morrow I will + confess everything to her.” Then passed a little more than fifty days, + during which he kept repeating to himself,—“To-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + It happened at last one evening in the month of August; the heat all day + had been overpowering; towards dusk a breeze had risen, the leaves + rustled; there were signs of a storm in the atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + They were seated together at the bottom of the garden, under the arbour, + adorned with exotic plants, and, through the branches, they perceived the + fluttering gown of the marchioness, who was taking a turn after her + dinner. They had remained a long time without speaking, enjoying the + perfume of the flowers, the calm beauty of the evening. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon ventured to take the young girl’s hand. It was the first time, + and the touch of her fine skin thrilled through every fibre of his frame, + and drove the blood surging to his brain. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” stammered he, “Claire—” + </p> + <p> + She turned towards him her beautiful eyes, filled with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” continued he, “forgive me. I have spoken to your + grandmother, before daring to raise my eyes to you. Do you not understand + me? A word from your lips will decide my future happiness or misery. + Claire, mademoiselle, do not spurn me: I love you!” + </p> + <p> + While the magistrate was speaking, Mademoiselle d’Arlange looked at him as + though doubtful of the evidence of her senses; but at the words, “I love + you!” pronounced with the trembling accents of the most devoted passion, + she disengaged her hand sharply, and uttered a stifled cry. + </p> + <p> + “You,” murmured she, “is this really you?” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon, at this the most critical moment of his life was powerless to + utter a word. The presentiment of an immense misfortune oppressed his + heart. What were then his feelings, when he saw Claire burst into tears. + She hid her face in her hands, and kept repeating,— + </p> + <p> + “I am very unhappy, very unhappy!” + </p> + <p> + “You unhappy?” exclaimed the magistrate at length, “and through me? + Claire, you are cruel! In heaven’s name, what have I done? What is the + matter? Speak! Anything rather then this anxiety which is killing me.” + </p> + <p> + He knelt before her on the gravelled walk, and again made an attempt to + take her hand. She repulsed him with an imploring gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Let me weep,” said she: “I suffer so much, you are going to hate me, I + feel it. Who knows! you will, perhaps, despise me, and yet I swear before + heaven that I never expected what you have just said to me, that I had not + even a suspicion of it!” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon remained upon his knees, awaiting his doom. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Claire, “you will think you have been the victim of a + detestable coquetry. I see it now! I comprehend everything! It is not + possible, that, without a profound love, a man can be all that you have + been to me. Alas! I was but a child. I gave myself up to the great + happiness of having a friend! Am I not alone in the world, and as if lost + in a desert? Silly and imprudent, I thoughtlessly confided in you, as in + the best, the most indulgent of fathers.” + </p> + <p> + These words revealed to the unfortunate magistrate the extent of his + error. The same as a heavy hammer, they smashed into a thousand fragments + the fragile edifice of his hopes. He raised himself slowly, and, in a tone + of involuntary reproach, he repeated,—“Your father!” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange felt how deeply she had wounded this man whose + intense love she dare not even fathom. “Yes,” she resumed, “I love you as + a father! Seeing you, usually so grave and austere, become for me so good, + so indulgent, I thanked heaven for sending me a protector to replace those + who are dead.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon could not restrain a sob; his heart was breaking. + </p> + <p> + “One word,” continued Claire,—“one single word, would have + enlightened me. Why did you not pronounce it! It was with such happiness + that I leant on you as a child on its mother; and with what inward joy I + said to myself, ‘I am sure of one friend, of one heart into which runs the + overflow of mine!’ Ah! why was not my confidence greater? Why did I + withhold my secret from you? I might have avoided this fearful calamity. I + ought to have told you long since. I no longer belong to myself freely and + with happiness, I have given my life to another.” + </p> + <p> + To hover in the clouds, and suddenly to fall rudely to the earth, such was + M. Daburon’s fate; his sufferings are not to be described. + </p> + <p> + “Far better to have spoken,” answered he; “yet no. I owe to your silence, + Claire, six months of delicious illusions, six months of enchanting + dreams. This shall be my share of life’s happiness.” + </p> + <p> + The last beams of closing day still enabled the magistrate to see + Mademoiselle d’Arlange. Her beautiful face had the whiteness and the + immobility of marble. Heavy tears rolled silently down her cheeks. It + seemed to M. Daburon that he was beholding the frightful spectacle of a + weeping statue. + </p> + <p> + “You love another,” said he at length, “another! And your grandmother does + not know it. Claire, you can only have chosen a man worthy of your love. + How is it the marchioness does not receive him?” + </p> + <p> + “There are certain obstacles,” murmured Claire, “obstacles which perhaps + we may never be able to remove; but a girl like me can love but once. She + marries him she loves, or she belongs to heaven!” + </p> + <p> + “Certain obstacles!” said M. Daburon in a hollow voice. “You love a man, + he knows it, and he is stopped by obstacles?” + </p> + <p> + “I am poor,” answered Mademoiselle d’Arlange, “and his family is immensely + rich. His father is cruel, inexorable.” + </p> + <p> + “His father,” cried the magistrate, with a bitterness he did not dream of + hiding, “his father, his family, and that withholds him! You are poor, he + is rich, and that stops him! And yet he knows you love him! Ah! why am I + not in his place? and why have I not the entire universe against me? What + sacrifice can compare with love? such as I understand it. Nay, would it be + a sacrifice? That which appears most so, is it not really an immense joy? + To suffer, to struggle, to wait, to hope always, to devote oneself + entirely to another; that is my idea of love.” + </p> + <p> + “It is thus I love,” said Claire with simplicity. + </p> + <p> + This answer crushed the magistrate. He could understand it. He knew that + for him there was no hope; but he felt a terrible enjoyment in torturing + himself, and proving his misfortune by intense suffering. + </p> + <p> + “But,” insisted he, “how have you known him, spoken to him? Where? When? + Madame d’Arlange receives no one.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought now to tell you everything, sir,” answered Claire proudly. “I + have known him for a long time. It was at the house of one of my + grandmother’s friends, who is a cousin of his,—old Mademoiselle + Goello, that I saw him for the first time. There we spoke to each other; + there we meet each other now.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” exclaimed M. Daburon, whose eyes were suddenly opened, “I remember + now. A few days before your visit to Mademoiselle Goello, you are gayer + than usual; and, when you return, you are often sad.” + </p> + <p> + “That is because I see how much he is pained by the obstacles he cannot + overcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Is his family, then, so illustrious,” asked the magistrate harshly, “that + it disdains alliance with yours?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have told you everything, without waiting to be questioned, + sir,” answered Mademoiselle d’Arlange, “even his name. He is called Albert + de Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + The marchioness at this moment, thinking she had walked enough, was + preparing to return to her rose-coloured boudoir. She therefore approached + the arbour, and exclaimed in her loud voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Worthy magistrate, piquet awaits you.” + </p> + <p> + Mechanically the magistrate arose, stammering, “I am coming.” + </p> + <p> + Claire held him back. “I have not asked you to keep my secret, sir,” said + she. + </p> + <p> + “O mademoiselle!” said M. Daburon, wounded by this appearance of doubt. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” resumed Claire, “that I can count upon you; but, come what will, + my tranquillity is gone.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon looked at her with an air of surprise; his eyes questioned her. + </p> + <p> + “It is certain,” continued she, “that what I, a young and inexperienced + girl, have failed to see, has not passed unnoticed by my grandmother. That + she has continued to receive you is a tacit encouragement of your + addresses; which I consider, permit me to say, as very honourable to + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already mentioned, mademoiselle,” replied the magistrate, “that + the marchioness has deigned to authorise my hopes.” + </p> + <p> + And briefly he related his interview with Madame d’Arlange, having the + delicacy, however, to omit absolutely the question of money, which had so + strongly influenced the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “I see very plainly what effect this will have on my peace,” said Claire + sadly. “When my grandmother learns that I have not received your homage, + she will be very angry.” + </p> + <p> + “You misjudge me, mademoiselle,” interrupted M. Daburon. “I have nothing + to say to the marchioness. I will retire, and all will be concluded. No + doubt she will think that I have altered my mind!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you are good and generous, I know!” + </p> + <p> + “I will go away,” pursued M. Daburon; “and soon you will have forgotten + even the name of the unfortunate whose life’s hopes have just been + shattered.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not mean what you say,” said the young girl quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, no. I cherish this last illusion, that later on you will remember + me with pleasure. Sometimes you will say, ‘He loved me,’ I wish all the + same to remain your friend, yes, your most devoted friend.” + </p> + <p> + Claire, in her turn, clasped M. Daburon’s hands, and said with great + emotion:—“Yes, you are right, you must remain my friend. Let us + forget what has happened, what you have said to-night, and remain to me, + as in the past, the best, the most indulgent of brothers.” + </p> + <p> + Darkness had come, and she could not see him; but she knew he was weeping, + for he was slow to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible,” murmured he at length, “what you ask of me? What! is it + you who talk to me of forgetting? Do you feel the power to forget? Do you + not see that I love you a thousand times more than you love—” He + stopped, unable to pronounce the name of Commarin; and then, with an + effort he added: “And I shall love you always.” + </p> + <p> + They had left the arbour, and were now standing not far from the steps + leading to the house. + </p> + <p> + “And now, mademoiselle,” resumed M. Daburon, “permit me to say, adieu! You + will see me again but seldom. I shall only return often enough to avoid + the appearance of a rupture.” + </p> + <p> + His voice trembled, so that it was with difficulty he made it distinct. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever may happen,” he added, “remember that there is one unfortunate + being in the world who belongs to you absolutely. If ever you have need of + a friend’s devotion, come to me, come to your friend. Now it is over . . . + I have courage. Claire, mademoiselle, for the last time, adieu!” + </p> + <p> + She was but little less moved than he was. Instinctively she approached + him, and for the first and last time he touched lightly with his cold lips + the forehead of her he loved so well. They mounted the steps, she leaning + on his arm, and entered the rose-coloured boudoir where the marchioness + was seated, impatiently shuffling the cards, while awaiting her victim. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, incorruptible magistrate,” cried she. + </p> + <p> + But M. Daburon felt sick at heart. He could not have held the cards. He + stammered some absurd excuses, spoke of pressing affairs, of duties to be + attended to, of feeling suddenly unwell, and went out, clinging to the + walls. + </p> + <p> + His departure made the old card-player highly indignant. She turned to her + grand-daughter, who had gone to hide her confusion away from the candles + of the card table, and asked, “What is the matter with Daburon this + evening?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, madame,” stammered Claire. + </p> + <p> + “It appears to me,” continued the marchioness, “that the little magistrate + permits himself to take singular liberties. He must be reminded of his + proper place, or he will end by believing himself our equal.” + </p> + <p> + Claire tried to explain the magistrate’s conduct: “He has been complaining + all the evening, grandmamma; perhaps he is unwell.” + </p> + <p> + “And what if he is?” exclaimed the old lady. “Is it not his duty to + exercise some self-denial, in return for the honour of our company? I + think I have already related to you the story of your granduncle, the Duke + de St Hurluge, who, having been chosen to join the king’s card party on + their return from the chase, played all through the evening and lost with + the best grace in the world two hundred and twenty pistoles. All the + assembly remarked his gaiety and his good humour. On the following day + only it was learned, that, during the hunt, he had fallen from his horse, + and had sat at his majesty’s card table with a broken rib. Nobody made any + remark, so perfectly natural did this act of ordinary politeness appear in + those days. This little Daburon, if he is unwell, would have given proof + of his breeding by saying nothing about it, and remaining for my piquet. + But he is as well as I am. Who can tell what games he has gone to play + elsewhere!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + M. Daburon did not return home on leaving Mademoiselle d’Arlange. All + through the night he wandered about at random, seeking to cool his heated + brow, and to allay his excessive weariness. + </p> + <p> + “Fool that I was!” said he to himself, “thousand times fool to have hoped, + to have believed, that she would ever love me. Madman! how could I have + dared to dream of possessing so much grace, nobleness, and beauty! How + charming she was this evening, when her face was bathed in tears! Could + anything be more angelic? What a sublime expression her eyes had in + speaking of him! How she must love him! And I? She loves me as a father, + she told me so,—as a father! And could it be otherwise? Is it not + justice? Could she see a lover in a sombre and severe-looking magistrate, + always as sad as his black coat? Was it not a crime to dream of uniting + that virginal simplicity to my detestable knowledge of the world? For her, + the future is yet the land of smiling chimeras; and long since experience + has dissipated all my illusions. She is as young as innocence, and I am as + old as vice.” + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate magistrate felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. He + understood Claire, and excused her. He reproached himself for having shown + her how he suffered; for having cast a shadow upon her life. He could not + forgive himself for having spoken of his love. Ought he not to have + foreseen what had happened?—that she would refuse him, that he would + thus deprive himself of the happiness of seeing her, of hearing her, and + of silently adoring her? + </p> + <p> + “A young and romantic girl,” pursued he, “must have a lover she can dream + of,—whom she can caress in imagination, as an ideal, gratifying + herself by seeing in him every great and brilliant quality, imagining him + full of nobleness, of bravery, of heroism. What would she see, if, in my + absence, she dreamed of me? Her imagination would present me dressed in a + funeral robe, in the depth of a gloomy dungeon, engaged with some vile + criminal. Is it not my trade to descend into all moral sinks, to stir up + the foulness of crime? Am I not compelled to wash in secrecy and darkness + the dirty linen of the most corrupt members of society? Ah! some + professions are fatal. Ought not the magistrate, like the priest, to + condemn himself to solitude and celibacy? Both know all, they hear all, + their costumes are nearly the same; but, while the priest carries + consolation in the folds of his black robe, the magistrate conveys terror. + One is mercy, the other chastisement. Such are the images a thought of me + would awaken; while the other,—the other—” + </p> + <p> + The wretched man continued his headlong course along the deserted quays. + He went with his head bare, his eyes haggard. To breathe more freely, he + had torn off his cravat and thrown it to the winds. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, unconsciously, he crossed the path of a solitary wayfarer, who + would pause, touched with pity, and turn to watch the retreating figure of + the unfortunate wretch he thought deprived of reason. In a by-road, near + Grenelle, some police officers stopped him, and tried to question him. He + mechanically tendered them his card. They read it, and permitted him to + pass, convinced that he was drunk. + </p> + <p> + Anger,—a furious anger, began to replace his first feeling of + resignation. In his heart arose a hate, stronger and more violent than + even his love for Claire. That other, that preferred one, that haughty + viscount, who could not overcome those paltry obstacles, oh, that he had + him there, under his knee! + </p> + <p> + At that moment, this noble and proud man, this severe and grave magistrate + experienced an irresistible longing for vengeance. He began to understand + the hate that arms itself with a knife, and lays in ambush in + out-of-the-way places; which strikes in the dark, whether in front or from + behind matters little, but which strikes, which kills, whose vengeance + blood alone can satisfy. + </p> + <p> + At that very hour he was supposed to be occupied with an inquiry into the + case of an unfortunate, accused of having stabbed one of her wretched + companions. She was jealous of the woman, who had tried to take her lover + from her. He was a soldier, coarse in manners, and always drunk. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon felt himself seized with pity for this miserable creature, whom + he had commenced to examine the day before. She was very ugly, in fact + truly repulsive; but the expression of the eyes, when speaking of her + soldier, returned to the magistrate’s memory. + </p> + <p> + “She loves him sincerely,” thought he. “If each one of the jurors had + suffered what I am suffering now, she would be acquitted. But how many men + in this world have loved passionately? Perhaps not one in twenty.” + </p> + <p> + He resolved to recommend this girl to the indulgence of the tribunal, and + to extenuate as much as possible her guilt. + </p> + <p> + For he himself had just determined upon the commission of a crime. He was + resolved to kill Albert de Commarin. + </p> + <p> + During the rest of the night he became all the more determined in this + resolution, demonstrating to himself by a thousand mad reasons, which he + found solid and inscrutable, the necessity for and the justifiableness of + this vengeance. + </p> + <p> + At seven o’clock in the morning, he found himself in an avenue of the Bois + de Boulogne, not far from the lake. He made at once for the Porte Maillot, + procured a cab, and was driven to his house. + </p> + <p> + The delirium of the night continued, but without suffering. He was + conscious of no fatigue. Calm and cool, he acted under the power of an + hallucination, almost like a somnambulist. + </p> + <p> + He reflected and reasoned, but without his reason. As soon as he arrived + home he dressed himself with care, as was his custom formerly when + visiting the Marchioness d’Arlange, and went out. He first called at an + armourer’s and bought a small revolver, which he caused to be carefully + loaded under his own eyes, and put it into his pocket. He then called on + the different persons he supposed capable of informing him to what club + the viscount belonged. No one noticed the strange state of his mind, so + natural were his manners and conversations. + </p> + <p> + It was not until the afternoon that a young friend of his gave him the + name of Albert de Commarin’s club, and offered to conduct him thither, as + he too was a member. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon accepted warmly, and accompanied his friend. While passing + along, he grasped with frenzy the handle of the revolver which he kept + concealed, thinking only of the murder he was determined to commit, and + the means of insuring the accuracy of his aim. + </p> + <p> + “This will make a terrible scandal,” thought he, “above all if I do not + succeed in blowing my own brains out. I shall be arrested, thrown into + prison, and placed upon my trial at the assizes. My name will be + dishonoured! Bah! what does that signify? Claire does not love me, so what + care I for all the rest? My father no doubt will die of grief, but I must + have my revenge!” + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the club, his friend pointed out a very dark young man, + with a haughty air, or what appeared so to him, who, seated at a table, + was reading a review. It was the viscount. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon walked up to him without drawing his revolver. But when within + two paces, his heart failed him; he turned suddenly and fled, leaving his + friend astonished at a scene, to him, utterly inexplicable. + </p> + <p> + Only once again will Albert de Commarin be as near death. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the street, it seemed to M. Daburon that the ground was + receding from beneath him, that everything was turning around him. He + tried to cry out, but could not utter a sound; he struck at the air with + his hands, reeled for an instant, and then fell all of a heap on the + pavement. + </p> + <p> + The passers-by ran and assisted the police to raise him. In one of his + pockets they found his address, and carried him home. When he recovered + his senses, he was in his bed, at the foot of which he perceived his + father. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” he asked. With much caution they told him, that for + six weeks he had wavered between life and death. The doctors had declared + his life saved; and, now that reason was restored, all would go well. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes’ conversation exhausted him. He shut his eyes, and tried to + collect his ideas; but they whirled hither and thither wildly, as autumn + leaves in the wind. The past seemed shrouded in a dark mist; yet, in the + midst of the darkness and confusion, all that concerned Mademoiselle + d’Arlange stood out clear and luminous. All his actions from the moment + when he embraced Claire appeared before him. He shuddered, and his hair + was in a moment soaking with perspiration. + </p> + <p> + He had almost become an assassin. The proof that he was restored to full + possession of his faculties was, that a question of criminal law crossed + his brain. + </p> + <p> + “The crime committed,” said he to himself, “should I have been condemned? + Yes. Was I responsible? No. Is crime merely the result of mental + alienation? Was I mad? Or was I in that peculiar state of mind which + usually precedes an illegal attempt? Who can say? Why have not all judges + passed through an incomprehensible crisis such as mine? But who would + believe me, were I to recount my experience?” + </p> + <p> + Some days later, he was sufficiently recovered to tell his father all. The + old gentleman shrugged his shoulders, and assured him it was but a + reminiscence of his delirium. + </p> + <p> + The good old man was moved at the story of his son’s luckless wooing, + without seeing therein, however, an irreparable misfortune. He advised him + to think of something else, placed at his disposal his entire fortune, and + recommended him to marry a stout Poitevine heiress, very gay and healthy, + who would bear him some fine children. Then, as his estate was suffering + by his absence, he returned home. Two months later, the investigating + magistrate had resumed his ordinary avocations. But try as he would, he + only went through his duties like a body without a soul. He felt that + something was broken. + </p> + <p> + Once he ventured to pay a visit to his old friend, the marchioness. On + seeing him, she uttered a cry of terror. She took him for a spectre, so + much was he changed in appearance. + </p> + <p> + As she dreaded dismal faces, she ever after shut her door to him. + </p> + <p> + Claire was ill for a week after seeing him. “How he loved me,” thought + she! “It has almost killed him! Can Albert love me as much?” She did not + dare to answer herself. She felt a desire to console him, to speak to him, + attempt something; but he came no more. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was not, however, a man to give way without a struggle. He + tried, as his father advised him, to distract his thoughts. He sought for + pleasure, and found disgust, but not forgetfulness. Often he went so far + as the threshold of debauchery; but the pure figure of Claire, dressed in + white garments, always barred the doors against him. + </p> + <p> + Then he took refuge in work, as in a sanctuary; condemned himself to the + most incessant labour, and forbade himself to think of Claire, as the + consumptive forbids himself to meditate upon his malady. + </p> + <p> + His eagerness, his feverish activity, earned him the reputation of an + ambitious man, who would go far; but he cared for nothing in the world. + </p> + <p> + At length, he found, not rest, but that painless benumbing which commonly + follows a great catastrophe. The convalescence of oblivion was commencing. + </p> + <p> + These were the events, recalled to M. Daburon’s mind when old Tabaret + pronounced the name of Commarin. He believed them buried under the ashes + of time; and behold they reappeared, just the same as those characters + traced in sympathetic ink when held before a fire. In an instant they + unrolled themselves before his memory, with the instantaneousness of a + dream annihilating time and space. + </p> + <p> + During some minutes, he assisted at the representation of his own life. At + once actor and spectator, he was there seated in his arm-chair, and at the + same time he appeared on the stage. He acted, and he judged himself. + </p> + <p> + His first thought, it must be confessed, was one of hate, followed by a + detestable feeling of satisfaction. Chance had, so to say, delivered into + his hands this man preferred by Claire, this man, now no longer a haughty + nobleman, illustrious by his fortune and his ancestors, but the + illegitimate offspring of a courtesan. To retain a stolen name, he had + committed a most cowardly assassination. And he, the magistrate, was about + to experience the infinite gratification of striking his enemy with the + sword of justice. + </p> + <p> + But this was only a passing thought. The man’s upright conscience revolted + against it, and made its powerful voice heard. + </p> + <p> + “Is anything,” it cried, “more monstrous than the association of these two + ideas,—hatred and justice? Can a magistrate, without despising + himself more than he despises the vile beings he condemns, recollect that + a criminal, whose fate is in his hands, has been his enemy? Has an + investigating magistrate the right to make use of his exceptional powers + in dealing with a prisoner; so long as he harbours the least resentment + against him?” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon repeated to himself what he had so frequently thought during + the year, when commencing a fresh investigation: “And I also, I almost + stained myself with a vile murder!” + </p> + <p> + And now it was his duty to cause to be arrested, to interrogate, and hand + over to the assizes the man he had once resolved to kill. + </p> + <p> + All the world, it is true, ignored this crime of thought and intention; + but could he himself forget it? Was not this, of all others, a case in + which he should decline to be mixed up? Ought he not to withdraw, and wash + his hands of the blood that had been shed, leaving to another the task of + avenging him in the name of society? + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he, “it would be a cowardice unworthy of me.” + </p> + <p> + A project of mad generosity occurred to the bewildered man. “If I save + him,” murmured he, “if for Claire’s sake I leave him his honour and his + life. But how can I save him? To do so I shall be obliged to suppress old + Tabaret’s discoveries, and make an accomplice of him by ensuring his + silence. We shall have to follow a wrong track, join Gevrol in running + after some imaginary murderer. Is this practicable? Besides, to spare + Albert is to defame Noel; it is to assure impunity to the most odious of + crimes. In short, it is still sacrificing justice to my feelings.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate suffered greatly. How choose a path in the midst of so many + perplexities! Impelled by different interests, he wavered, undecided + between the most opposite decisions, his mind oscillating from one extreme + to the other. + </p> + <p> + What could he do? His reason after this new and unforeseen shock vainly + sought to regain its equilibrium. + </p> + <p> + “Resign?” said he to himself. “Where, then, would be my courage? Ought I + not rather to remain the representative of the law, incapable of emotion, + insensible to prejudice? am I so weak that, in assuming my office, I am + unable to divest myself of my personality? Can I not, for the present, + make abstraction of the past? My duty is to pursue this investigation. + Claire herself would desire me to act thus. Would she wed a man suspected + of a crime? Never. If he is innocent, he will be saved; if guilty, let him + perish!” + </p> + <p> + This was very sound reasoning; but, at the bottom of his heart, a thousand + disquietudes darted their thorns. He wanted to reassure himself. + </p> + <p> + “Do I still hate this young man?” he continued. “No, certainly. If Claire + has preferred him to me, it is to Claire and not to him I owe my + suffering. My rage was no more than a passing fit of delirium. I will + prove it, by letting him find me as much a counsellor as a magistrate. If + he is not guilty, he shall make use of all the means in my power to + establish his innocence. Yes, I am worthy to be his judge. Heaven, who + reads all my thoughts, sees that I love Claire enough to desire with all + my heart the innocence of her lover.” + </p> + <p> + Only then did M. Daburon seem to be vaguely aware of the lapse of time. It + was nearly three o’clock in the morning. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” cried he; “why, old Tabaret is waiting for me. I shall + probably find him asleep.” + </p> + <p> + But M. Tabaret was not asleep. He had noticed the passage of time no more + than the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes had sufficed him to take an inventory of the contents of M. + Daburon’s study, which was large, and handsomely furnished in accordance + with his position and fortune. Taking up a lamp, he first admired six very + valuable pictures, which ornamented the walls; he then examined with + considerable curiosity some rare bronzes placed about the room, and + bestowed on the bookcase the glance of a connoisseur. + </p> + <p> + After which, taking an evening paper from the table, he approached the + hearth, and seated himself in a vast armchair. + </p> + <p> + He had not read a third of the leading article, which, like all leading + articles of the time, was exclusively occupied with the Roman question, + when, letting the paper drop from his hands, he became absorbed in + meditation. The fixed idea, stronger than one’s will, and more interesting + to him than politics, brought him forcibly back to La Jonchere, where lay + the murdered Widow Lerouge. Like the child who again and again builds up + and demolishes his house of cards, he arranged and entangled alternately + his chain of inductions and arguments. + </p> + <p> + In his own mind there was certainly no longer a doubt as regards this sad + affair, and it seemed to him that M. Daburon shared his opinions. But yet, + what difficulties there still remained to encounter! + </p> + <p> + There exists between the investigating magistrate and the accused a + supreme tribunal, an admirable institution which is a guarantee for all, a + powerful moderator, the jury. + </p> + <p> + And the jury, thank heaven! do not content themselves with a moral + conviction. The strongest probabilities cannot induce them to give an + affirmative verdict. + </p> + <p> + Placed upon a neutral ground, between the prosecution and the defence, it + demands material and tangible proofs. Where the magistrate would condemn + twenty times for one, in all security of conscience, the jury acquit for + lack of satisfying evidence. + </p> + <p> + The deplorable execution of Lesurques has certainly assured impunity to + many criminals; but, it is necessary to say it justifies hesitation in + receiving circumstantial evidence in capital crimes. + </p> + <p> + In short, save where a criminal is taken in the very act, or confesses his + guilt, it is not certain that the minister of justice can secure a + conviction. Sometimes the judge of inquiry is as anxious as the accused + himself. Nearly all crimes are in some particular point mysterious, + perhaps impenetrable to justice and the police; and the duty of the + advocate is, to discover this weak point, and thereon establish his + client’s defence. By pointing out this doubt to the jury, he insinuates in + their minds a distrust of the entire evidence; and frequently the + detection of a distorted induction, cleverly exposed, can change the face + of a prosecution, and make a strong case appear to the jury a weak one. + This uncertainty explains the character of passion which is so often + perceptible in criminal trials. + </p> + <p> + And, in proportion to the march of civilisation, juries in important + trials will become more timid and hesitating. The weight of responsibility + oppresses the man of conscientious scruple. Already numbers recoil from + the idea of capital punishment; and, whenever a jury can find a peg to + hang a doubt on, they will wash their hands of the responsibility of + condemnation. We have seen numbers of persons signing appeals for mercy to + a condemned malefactor, condemned for what crime? Parricide! Every juror, + from the moment he is sworn, weighs infinitely less the evidence he has + come to listen to than the risk he runs of incurring the pangs of remorse. + Rather than risk the condemnation of one innocent man, he will allow + twenty scoundrels to go unpunished. + </p> + <p> + The accusation must then come before the jury, armed at all points, with + abundant proofs. A task often tedious to the investigating magistrate, and + bristling with difficulties, is the arrangement and condensation of this + evidence, particularly when the accused is a cool hand, certain of having + left no traces of his guilt. Then from the depths of his dungeon he defies + the assault of justice, and laughs at the judge of inquiry. It is a + terrible struggle, enough to make one tremble at the responsibility of the + magistrate, when he remembers, that after all, this man imprisoned, + without consolation or advice, may be innocent. How hard is it, then for + the judge to resist his moral convictions! + </p> + <p> + Even when presumptive evidence points clearly to the criminal, and common + sense recognises him, justice is at times compelled to acknowledge her + defeat, for lack of what the jury consider sufficient proof of guilt. + Thus, unhappily, many crimes escape punishment. An old advocate-general + said one day that he knew as many as three assassins, living rich, happy, + and respected, who would probably end by dying in their beds, surrounded + by their families, and being followed to the grave with lamentations, and + praised for their virtues in their epitaphs. + </p> + <p> + At the idea that a murderer might escape the penalty of his crime, and + steal away from the assize court, old Tabaret’s blood fairly boiled in his + veins, as at the recollection of some deadly insult. + </p> + <p> + Such a monstrous event, in his opinion, could only proceed from the + incapacity of those charged with the preliminary inquiry, the clumsiness + of the police, or the stupidity of the investigating magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “It is not I,” he muttered, with the satisfied vanity of success, “who + would ever let my prey escape. No crime can be committed, of which the + author cannot be found, unless, indeed, he happens to be a madman, whose + motive it would be difficult to understand. I would pass my life in + pursuit of a criminal, before avowing myself vanquished, as Gevrol has + done so many times.” + </p> + <p> + Assisted by chance, he had again succeeded, so he kept repeating to + himself, but what proofs could he furnish to the accusation, to that + confounded jury, so difficult to convince, so precise and so cowardly? + What could he imagine to force so cunning a culprit to betray himself? + What trap could he prepare? To what new and infallible stratagem could he + have recourse? + </p> + <p> + The amateur detective exhausted himself in subtle but impracticable + combinations, always stopped by that exacting jury, so obnoxious to the + agents of the Rue de Jerusalem. He was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts + that he did not hear the door open, and was utterly unconscious of the + magistrate’s presence. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon’s voice aroused him from his reverie. + </p> + <p> + “You will excuse me, M. Tabaret, for having left you so long alone.” + </p> + <p> + The old fellow rose and bowed respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “By my faith, sir,” replied he, “I have not had the leisure to perceive my + solitude.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon crossed the room, and seated himself, facing his agent before a + small table encumbered with papers and documents relating to the crime. He + appeared very much fatigued. + </p> + <p> + “I have reflected a good deal,” he commenced, “about this affair—” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” interrupted old Tabaret, “was just asking myself what was likely + to be the attitude assumed by the viscount at the moment of his arrest. + Nothing is more important, according to my idea, than his manner of + conducting himself then. Will he fly into a passion? Will he attempt to + intimidate the agents? Will he threaten to turn them out of the house? + These are generally the tactics of titled criminals. My opinion, however, + is, that he will remain perfectly cool. He will declare himself the victim + of a misunderstanding, and insist upon an immediate interview with the + investigating magistrate. Once that is accorded him, he will explain + everything very quickly.” + </p> + <p> + The old fellow spoke of matters of speculation in such a tone of assurance + that M. Daburon was unable to repress a smile. + </p> + <p> + “We have not got as far as that yet,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “But we shall, in a few hours,” replied M. Tabaret quickly. “I presume you + will order young M. de Commarin’s arrest at daybreak.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate trembled, like the patient who sees the surgeon deposit his + case of instruments upon the table on entering the room. + </p> + <p> + The moment for action had come. He felt now what a distance lies between a + mental decision and the physical action required to execute it. + </p> + <p> + “You are prompt, M. Tabaret,” said he; “you recognize no obstacles.” + </p> + <p> + “None, having ascertained the criminal. Who else can have committed this + assassination? Who but he had an interest in silencing Widow Lerouge, in + suppressing her testimony, in destroying her papers? He, and only he. Poor + Noel! who is as dull as honesty, warned him, and he acted. Should we fail + to establish his guilt, he will remain de Commarin more than ever; and my + young advocate will be Noel Gerdy to the grave.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + The old man fixed his eyes upon the magistrate with a look of + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “You see, then, some difficulties, sir?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Most decidedly!” replied M. Daburon. “This is a matter demanding the + utmost circumspection. In cases like the present, one must not strike + until the blow is sure, and we have but presumptions. Suppose we are + mistaken. Justice, unhappily, cannot repair her errors. Her hand once + unjustly placed upon a man, leaves an imprint of dishonour that can never + be effaced. She may perceive her error, and proclaim it aloud, but in + vain! Public opinion, absurd and idiotic, will not pardon the man guilty + of being suspected.” + </p> + <p> + It was with a sinking heart that the old fellow listened to these remarks. + He would not be withheld by such paltry considerations. + </p> + <p> + “Our suspicions are well grounded,” continued the magistrate. “But, should + they lead us into error, our precipitation would be a terrible misfortune + for this young man, to say nothing of the effect it would have in + abridging the authority and dignity of justice, of weakening the respect + which constitutes her power. Such a mistake would call for discussion, + provoke examination, and awaken distrust, at an epoch in our history when + all minds are but too much disposed to defy the constituted authorities.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned upon the table, and appeared to reflect profoundly. + </p> + <p> + “I have no luck,” thought old Tabaret. “I have to do with a trembler. When + he should act, he makes speeches; instead of signing warrants, he + propounds theories. He is astounded at my discovery, and is not equal to + the situation. Instead of being delighted by my appearance with the news + of our success, he would have given a twenty-franc piece, I dare say, to + have been left undisturbed. Ah! he would very willingly have the little + fishes in his net, but the big ones frighten him. The big fishes are + dangerous, and he prefers to let them swim away.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” said M. Daburon, aloud, “it will suffice to issue a + search-warrant, and a summons for the appearance of the accused.” + </p> + <p> + “Then all is lost!” cried old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “And why, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Because we are opposed by a criminal of marked ability. A most + providential accident has placed us upon his track. If we give him time to + breathe, he will escape.” + </p> + <p> + The only answer was an inclination of the head, which M. Daburon may have + intended for a sign of assent. + </p> + <p> + “It is evident,” continued the old fellow, “that our adversary has + foreseen everything, absolutely everything, even the possibility of + suspicion attaching to one in his high position. Oh! his precautions are + all taken. If you are satisfied with demanding his appearance, he is + saved. He will appear before you as tranquilly as your clerk, as + unconcerned as if he came to arrange the preliminaries of a duel. He will + present you with a magnificent <i>alibi</i>, an <i>alibi</i> that can not + be gainsayed. He will show you that he passed the evening and the night of + Tuesday with personages of the highest rank. In short, his little machine + will be so cleverly constructed, so nicely arranged, all its little wheels + will play so well, that there will be nothing left for you but to open the + door and usher him out with the most humble apologies. The only means of + securing conviction is to surprise the miscreant by a rapidity against + which it is impossible he can be on his guard. Fall upon him like a + thunder-clap, arrest him as he wakes, drag him hither while yet pale with + astonishment, and interrogate him at once. Ah! I wish I were an + investigating magistrate.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret stopped short, frightened at the idea that he had been wanting + in respect; but M. Daburon showed no sign of being offended. + </p> + <p> + “Proceed,” said he, in a tone of encouragement, “proceed.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose, then,” continued the detective, “I am the investigating + magistrate. I cause my man to be arrested, and, twenty minutes later, he + is standing before me. I do not amuse myself by putting questions to him, + more or less subtle. No, I go straight to the mark. I overwhelm him at + once by the weight of my certainty, prove to him so clearly that I know + everything, that he must surrender, seeing no chance of escape. I should + say to him, ‘My good man, you bring me an <i>alibi</i>; it is very well; + but I am acquainted with that system of defence. It will not do with me. I + know all about the clocks that don’t keep proper time, and all the people + who never lost sight of you. In the meantime, this is what you did. At + twenty minutes past eight, you slipped away adroitly; at thirty-five + minutes past eight, you took the train at the St Lazare station; at nine + o’clock, you alighted at the station at Rueil, and took the road to La + Jonchere; at a quarter past nine, you knocked at the window-shutter of + Widow Lerouge’s cottage. You were admitted. You asked for something to + eat, and, above all, something to drink. At twenty minutes past nine, you + planted the well-sharpened end of a foil between her shoulders. You killed + her! You then overturned everything in the house, and burned certain + documents of importance; after which, you tied up in a napkin all the + valuables you could find, and carried them off, to lead the police to + believe the murder was the work of a robber. You locked the door, and + threw away the key. Arrived at the Seine, you threw the bundle into the + water, then hurried off to the railway station on foot, and at eleven + o’clock you reappeared amongst your friends. Your game was well played; + but you omitted to provide against two adversaries, a detective, not + easily deceived, named Tirauclair, and another still more clever, named + chance. Between them, they have got the better of you. Moreover, you were + foolish to wear such small boots, and to keep on your lavender kid gloves, + besides embarrassing yourself with a silk hat and an umbrella. Now confess + your guilt, for it is the only thing left you to do, and I will give you + permission to smoke in your dungeon some of those excellent trabucos you + are so fond of, and which you always smoke with an amber mouthpiece.’” + </p> + <p> + During this speech, M. Tabaret had gained at least a couple of inches in + height, so great was his enthusiasm. He looked at the magistrate, as if + expecting a smile of approbation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued he, after taking breath, “I would say that, and nothing + else; and, unless this man is a hundred times stronger than I suppose him + to be, unless he is made of bronze, of marble, or of steel, he would fall + at my feet and avow his guilt.” + </p> + <p> + “But supposing he were of bronze,” said M. Daburon, “and did not fall at + your feet, what would you do next?” + </p> + <p> + The question evidently embarrassed the old fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” stammered he; “I don’t know; I would see; I would search; but he + would confess.” + </p> + <p> + After a prolonged silence, M. Daburon took a pen, and hurriedly wrote a + few lines. + </p> + <p> + “I surrender,” said he. “M. Albert de Commarin shall be arrested; that is + settled. The different formalities to be gone through and the + perquisitions will occupy some time, which I wish to employ in + interrogating the Count de Commarin, the young man’s father, and your + friend M. Noel Gerdy, the young advocate. The letters he possesses are + indispensable to me.” + </p> + <p> + At the name of Gerdy, M. Tabaret’s face assumed a most comical expression + of uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + “Confound it,” cried he, “the very thing I most dreaded.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” asked M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + “The necessity for the examination of those letters. Noel will discover my + interference. He will despise me: he will fly from me, when he knows that + Tabaret and Tirauclair sleep in the same nightcap. Before eight days are + past, my oldest friends will refuse to shake hands with me, as if it were + not an honour to serve justice. I shall be obliged to change my residence, + and assume a false name.” + </p> + <p> + He almost wept, so great was his annoyance. M. Daburon was touched. + </p> + <p> + “Reassure yourself, my dear M. Tabaret,” said he. “I will manage that your + adopted son, your Benjamin, shall know nothing. I will lead him to believe + I have reached him by means of the widow’s papers.” + </p> + <p> + The old fellow seized the magistrate’s hand in a transport of gratitude, + and carried it to his lips. Oh! thanks, sir, a thousand thanks! I should + like to be permitted to witness the arrest; and I shall be glad to assist + at the perquisitions.” + </p> + <p> + “I intended to ask you to do so, M. Tabaret,” answered the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + The lamps paled in the gray dawn of the morning; already the rumbling of + vehicles was heard; Paris was awaking. + </p> + <p> + “I have no time to lose,” continued M. Daburon, “if I would have all my + measures well taken. I must at once see the public prosecutor, whether he + is up or not. I shall go direct from his house to the Palais de Justice, + and be there before eight o’clock; and I desire, M. Tabaret, that you will + there await my orders.” + </p> + <p> + The old fellow bowed his thanks and was about to leave, when the + magistrate’s servant appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a note, sir,” said he, “which a gendarme has just brought from + Bougival. He waits an answer.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” replied M. Daburon. “Ask the man to have some refreshment; at + least offer him a glass of wine.” + </p> + <p> + He opened the envelope. “Ah!” he cried, “a letter from Gevrol;” and he + read: + </p> + <p> + “‘To the investigating magistrate. Sir, I have the honour to inform you, + that I am on the track of the man with the earrings. I heard of him at a + wine shop, which he entered on Sunday morning, before going to Widow + Lerouge’s cottage. He bought, and paid for two litres of wine; then, + suddenly striking his forehead, he cried, “Old fool! to forget that + to-morrow is the boat’s fete day!” and immediately called for three more + litres. According to the almanac the boat must be called the Saint-Martin. + I have also learned that she was laden with grain. I write to the + Prefecture at the same time as I write to you, that inquiries may be made + at Paris and Rouen. He will be found at one of those places. I am in + waiting, sir, etc.’” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Gevrol!” cried old Tabaret, bursting with laughter. “He sharpens his + sabre, and the battle is over. Are you not going to put a stop to his + inquiries, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No; certainly not,” answered M. Daburon; “to neglect the slightest clue + often leads one into error. Who can tell what light we may receive from + this mariner?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + On the same day that the crime of La Jonchere was discovered, and + precisely at the hour that M. Tabaret made his memorable examination in + the victim’s chamber, the Viscount Albert de Commarin entered his + carriage, and proceeded to the Northern railway station, to meet his + father. + </p> + <p> + The young man was very pale: his pinched features, his dull eyes, his + blanched lips, in fact his whole appearance denoted either overwhelming + fatigue or unusual sorrow. All the servants had observed, that, during the + past five days, their young master had not been in his ordinary condition: + he spoke but little, ate almost nothing, and refused to see any visitors. + His valet noticed that this singular change dated from the visit, on + Sunday morning, of a certain M. Noel Gerdy, who had been closeted with him + for three hours in the library. + </p> + <p> + The Viscount, gay as a lark until the arrival of this person, had, from + the moment of his departure, the appearance of a man at the point of + death. When setting forth to meet his father, the viscount appeared to + suffer so acutely that M. Lubin, his valet, entreated him not to go out; + suggesting that it would be more prudent to retire to his room, and call + in the doctor. + </p> + <p> + But the Count de Commarin was exacting on the score of filial duty, and + would overlook the worst of youthful indiscretions sooner than what he + termed a want of reverence. He had announced his intended arrival by + telegraph, twenty-four hours in advance; therefore the house was expected + to be in perfect readiness to receive him, and the absence of Albert at + the railway station would have been resented as a flagrant omission of + duty. + </p> + <p> + The viscount had been but five minutes in the waiting-room, when the bell + announced the arrival of the train. Soon the doors leading on to the + platform were opened, and the travelers crowded in. The throng beginning + to thin a little, the count appeared, followed by a servant, who carried a + travelling pelisse lined with rare and valuable fur. + </p> + <p> + The Count de Commarin looked a good ten years less than his age. His beard + and hair, yet abundant, were scarcely gray. He was tall and muscular, held + himself upright, and carried his head high. His appearance was noble, his + movements easy. His regular features presented a study to the + physiognomist, all expressing easy, careless good nature, even to the + handsome, smiling mouth; but in his eyes flashed the fiercest and the most + arrogant pride. This contrast revealed the secret of his character. Imbued + quite as deeply with aristocratic prejudice as the Marchioness d’Arlange, + he had progressed with his century or at least appeared to have done so. + As fully as the marchioness, he held in contempt all who were not noble; + but his disdain expressed itself in a different fashion. The marchioness + proclaimed her contempt loudly and coarsely; the count had kept eyes and + ears open and had seen and heard a good deal. She was stupid, and without + a shade of common sense. He was witty and sensible, and possessed enlarged + views of life and politics. She dreamed of the return of the absurd + traditions of a former age; he hoped for things within the power of events + to bring forth. He was sincerely persuaded that the nobles of France would + yet recover slowly and silently, but surely, all their lost power, with + its prestige and influence. + </p> + <p> + In a word, the count was the flattered portrait of his class; the + marchioness its caricature. It should be added, that M. de Commarin knew + how to divest himself of his crushing urbanity in the company of his + equals. There he recovered his true character, haughty, self-sufficient, + and intractable, enduring contradiction pretty much as a wild horse the + application of the spur. In his own house, he was a despot. + </p> + <p> + Perceiving his father, Albert advanced towards him. They shook hands and + embraced with an air as noble as ceremonious, and, in less than a minute, + had exchanged all the news that had transpired during the count’s absence. + Then only did M. de Commarin perceive the alteration in his son’s face. + </p> + <p> + “You are unwell, viscount,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir,” answered Albert, laconically. + </p> + <p> + The count uttered “Ah!” accompanied by a certain movement of the head, + which, with him, expressed perfect incredulity; then, turning to his + servant, he gave him some orders briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” resumed he, “let us go quickly to the house. I am in haste to feel + at home; and I am hungry, having had nothing to-day, but some detestable + broth, at I know not what way station.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin had returned to Paris in a very bad temper, his journey to + Austria had not brought the results he had hoped for. To crown his + dissatisfaction, he had rested, on his homeward way, at the chateau of an + old friend, with whom he had had so violent a discussion that they had + parted without shaking hands. The count was hardly seated in his carriage + before he entered upon the subject of this disagreement. + </p> + <p> + “I have quarrelled with the Duke de Sairmeuse,” said he to his son. + </p> + <p> + “That seems to me to happen whenever you meet,” answered Albert, without + intending any raillery. + </p> + <p> + “True,” said the count: “but this is serious. I passed four days at his + country-seat, in a state of inconceivable exasperation. He has entirely + forfeited my esteem. Sairmeuse has sold his estate of Gondresy, one of the + finest in the north of France. He has cut down the timber, and put up to + auction the old chateau, a princely dwelling, which is to be converted + into a sugar refinery; all this for the purpose, as he says, of raising + money to increase his income!” + </p> + <p> + “And was that the cause of your rupture?” inquired Albert, without much + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly it was! Do you not think it a sufficient one?” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir, you know the duke has a large family, and is far from rich.” + </p> + <p> + “What of that? A French noble who sells his land commits an unworthy act. + He is guilty of treason against his order!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” said Albert, deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “I said treason!” continued the count. “I maintain the word. Remember + well, viscount, power has been, and always will be, on the side of wealth, + especially on the side of those who hold the soil. The men of ‘93 well + understood this principle, and acted upon it. By impoverishing the nobles, + they destroyed their prestige more effectually than by abolishing their + titles. A prince dismounted, and without footmen, is no more than any one + else. The Minister of July, who said to the people, ‘Make yourselves + rich,’ was not a fool. He gave them the magic formula for power. But they + have not the sense to understand it. They want to go too fast. They launch + into speculations, and become rich, it is true; but in what? Stocks, + bonds, paper,—rags, in short. It is smoke they are locking in their + coffers. They prefer to invest in merchandise, which pays eight or ten per + cent, to investing in vines or corn which will return but three. The + peasant is not so foolish. From the moment he owns a piece of ground the + size of a handkerchief, he wants to make it as large as a tablecloth. He + is slow as the oxen he ploughs with, but as patient, as tenacious, and as + obstinate. He goes directly to his object, pressing firmly against the + yoke; and nothing can stop or turn him aside. He knows that stocks may + rise or fall, fortunes be won or lost on ‘change; but the land always + remains,—the real standard of wealth. To become landholders, the + peasant starves himself, wears sabots in winter; and the imbeciles who + laugh at him will be astonished by and by when he makes his ‘93, and the + peasant becomes a baron in power if not in name.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand the application,” said the viscount. + </p> + <p> + “You do not understand? Why, what the peasant is doing is what the nobles + ought to have done! Ruined, their duty was to reconstruct their fortunes. + Commerce is interdicted to us; be it so: agriculture remains. Instead of + grumbling uselessly during the half-century, instead of running themselves + into debt, in the ridiculous attempt to support an appearance of grandeur, + they ought to have retreated to their provinces, shut themselves up in + their chateaux; there worked, economised, denied themselves, as the + peasant is doing, purchased the land piece by piece. Had they taken this + course, they would to-day possess France. Their wealth would be enormous; + for the value of land rises year after year. I have, without effort, + doubled my fortune in thirty years. Blauville, which cost my father a + hundred crowns in 1817, is worth to-day more than a million: so that, when + I hear the nobles complain, I shrug the shoulder. Who but they are to + blame? They impoverish themselves from year to year. They sell their land + to the peasants. Soon they will be reduced to beggary, and their + escutcheons. What consoles me is, that the peasant, having become the + proprietor of our domains will then be all-powerful, and will yoke to his + chariot wheels these traders in scrip and stocks, whom he hates as much as + I execrate them myself.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage at this moment stopped in the court-yard of the de Commarin + mansion, after having described that perfect half-circle, the glory of + coachmen who preserve the old tradition. + </p> + <p> + The count alighted first, and leaning upon his son’s arm, ascended the + steps of the grand entrance. In the immense vestibule, nearly all the + servants, dressed in rich liveries, stood in a line. The count gave them a + glance, in passing, as an officer might his soldiers on parade, and + proceeded to his apartment on the first floor, above the reception rooms. + </p> + <p> + Never was there a better regulated household than that of the Count de + Commarin. He possessed in a high degree the art, more rare than is + generally supposed, of commanding an army of servants. The number of his + domestics caused him neither inconvenience nor embarrassment. They were + necessary to him. So perfect was the organisation of this household, that + its functions were performed like those of a machine,—without noise, + variation, or effort. + </p> + <p> + Thus when the count returned from his journey, the sleeping hotel was + awakened as if by the spell of an enchanter. Each servant was at his post; + and the occupations, interrupted during the past six weeks, resumed + without confusion. As the count was known to have passed the day on the + road, the dinner was served in advance of the usual hour. All the + establishment, even to the lowest scullion, represented the spirit of the + first article of the rules of the house, “Servants are not to execute + orders, but anticipate them.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin had hardly removed the traces of his journey, and changed + his dress, when his butler announced that the dinner was served. + </p> + <p> + He went down at once; and father and son met upon the threshold of the + dining-room. This was a large apartment, with a very high ceiling, as were + all the rooms of the ground floor, and was most magnificently furnished. + The count was not only a great eater, but was vain of his enormous + appetite. He was fond of recalling the names of great men, noted for their + capacity of stomach. Charles V. devoured mountains of viands. Louis XIV. + swallowed at each repast as much as six ordinary men would eat at a meal. + He pretended that one can almost judge of men’s qualities by their + digestive capacities; he compared them to lamps, whose power of giving + light is in proportion to the oil they consume. + </p> + <p> + During the first half hour, the count and his son both remained silent. M. + de Commarin ate conscientiously, not perceiving or not caring to notice + that Albert ate nothing, but merely sat at the table as if to countenance + him. The old nobleman’s ill-humour and volubility returned with the + dessert, apparently increased by a Burgundy of which he was particularly + fond, and of which he drank freely. + </p> + <p> + He was partial, moreover, to an after dinner argument, professing a theory + that moderate discussion is a perfect digestive. A letter which had been + delivered to him on his arrival, and which he had found time to glance + over, gave him at once a subject and a point of departure. + </p> + <p> + “I arrived home but an hour ago;” said he, “and I have already received a + homily from Broisfresnay.” + </p> + <p> + “He writes a great deal,” observed Albert. + </p> + <p> + “Too much; he consumes himself in ink. He mentions a lot more of his + ridiculous projects and vain hopes, and he mentions a dozen names of men + of his own stamp who are his associates. On my word of honour, they seem + to have lost their senses! They talk of lifting the world, only they want + a lever and something to rest it on. It makes me die with laughter!” + </p> + <p> + For ten minutes the count continued to discharge a volley of abuse and + sarcasm against his best friends, without seeming to see that a great many + of their foibles which he ridiculed were also a little his own. + </p> + <p> + “If,” continued he more seriously,—“if they only possessed a little + confidence in themselves, if they showed the least audacity! But no! they + count upon others to do for them what they ought to do for themselves. In + short, their proceedings are a series of confessions of helplessness, of + premature declarations of failure.” + </p> + <p> + The coffee having been served, the count made a sign, and the servants + left the room. + </p> + <p> + “No,” continued he, “I see but one hope for the French aristocracy, but + one plank of salvation, one good little law, establishing the right of + primogeniture.” + </p> + <p> + “You will never obtain it.” + </p> + <p> + “You think not? Would you then oppose such a measure, viscount?” + </p> + <p> + Albert knew by experience what dangerous ground his father was + approaching, and remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “Let us put it, then, that I dream of the impossible!” resumed the count. + “Then let the nobles do their duty. Let all the younger sons and the + daughters of our great families forego their rights, by giving up the + entire patrimony to the first-born for five generations, contenting + themselves each with a couple of thousand francs a year. By that means + great fortunes can be reconstructed, and families, instead of being + divided by a variety of interests, become united by one common desire.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately,” objected the viscount, “the time is not favorable to such + devotedness.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, sir,” replied the count quickly; “and in my own house I have + the proof of it. I, your father, have conjured you to give up all idea of + marrying the granddaughter of that old fool, the Marchioness d’Arlange. + And all to no purpose; for I have at last been obliged to yield to your + wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “Father—” Albert commenced. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” interrupted the count. “You have my word; but remember my + prediction: you will strike a fatal blow at our house. You will be one of + the largest proprietors in France; but have half a dozen children, and + they will be hardly rich. If they also have as many, you will probably see + your grandchildren in poverty!” + </p> + <p> + “You put all at the worst, father.” + </p> + <p> + “Without doubt: it is the only means of pointing out the danger, and + averting the evil. You talk of your life’s happiness. What is that? A true + noble thinks of his name above all. Mademoiselle d’Arlange is very pretty, + and very attractive; but she is penniless. I had found an heiress for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom I should never love!” + </p> + <p> + “And what of that? She would have brought you four millions in her apron,—more + than the kings of to-day give their daughters. Besides which she had great + expectations.” + </p> + <p> + The discussion upon this subject would have been interminable, had Albert + taken an active share in it; but his thoughts were far away. He answered + from time to time so as not to appear absolutely dumb, and then only a few + syllables. This absence of opposition was more irritating to the count + than the most obstinate contradiction. He therefore directed his utmost + efforts to excite his son to argue. + </p> + <p> + However he was vainly prodigal of words, and unsparing in unpleasant + allusions, so that at last he fairly lost his temper, and, on receiving a + laconic reply, he burst forth: “Upon my word, the butler’s son would say + the same as you! What blood have you in your veins? You are more like one + of the people than a Viscount de Commarin!” + </p> + <p> + There are certain conditions of mind in which the least conversation jars + upon the nerves. During the last hour, Albert had suffered an intolerable + punishment. The patience with which he had armed himself at last escaped + him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” he answered, “if I resemble one of the people, there are + perhaps good reasons for it.” + </p> + <p> + The glance with which the viscount accompanied his speech was so + expressive that the count experienced a sudden shock. All his animation + forsook him, and in a hesitating voice, he asked: “What is that you say, + viscount?” + </p> + <p> + Albert had no sooner uttered the sentence than he regretted his + precipitation, but he had gone too far to stop. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he replied with some embarrassment, “I have to acquaint you with + some important matters. My honour, yours, the honour of our house, are + involved. I intended postponing this conversation till to-morrow, not + desiring to trouble you on the evening of your return. However, as you + wish me to explain, I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + The count listened with ill-concealed anxiety. He seemed to have divined + what his son was about to say, and was terrified at himself for having + divined it. + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, sir,” continued Albert slowly, “whatever may have been your + acts, my voice will never be raised to reproach you. Your constant + kindness to me—” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin held up his hand. “A truce to preambles; let me have the + facts without phrases,” said he sternly. + </p> + <p> + Albert was some time without answering, he hesitated how to commence. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he at length, “during your absence, I have read all your + correspondence with Madame Gerdy. All!” added he, emphasising the word, + already so significant. + </p> + <p> + The count, as though stung by a serpent, started up with such violence + that he overturned his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Not another word!” cried he in a terrible voice. “I forbid you to speak!” + But he no doubt soon felt ashamed of his violence, for he quietly raised + his chair, and resumed in a tone which he strove to render light and + rallying: “Who will hereafter refuse to believe in presentiments? A couple + of hours ago, on seeing your pale face at the railway station, I felt that + you had learned more or less of this affair. I was sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + There was a long silence. With one accord, father and son avoided letting + their eyes meet, lest they might encounter glances too eloquent to bear at + so painful a moment. + </p> + <p> + “You were right, sir,” continued the count, “our honour is involved. It is + important that we should decide on our future conduct without delay. Will + you follow me to my room?” + </p> + <p> + He rang the bell, and a footman appeared almost immediately. + </p> + <p> + “Neither the viscount nor I am at home to any one,” said M. de Commarin, + “no matter whom.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + The revelation which had just taken place, irritated much more than it + surprised the Count de Commarin. For twenty years, he had been constantly + expecting to see the truth brought to light. He knew that there can be no + secret so carefully guarded that it may not by some chance escape; and his + had been known to four people, three of whom were still living. + </p> + <p> + He had not forgotten that he had been imprudent enough to trust it to + paper, knowing all the while that it ought never to have been written. How + was it that he, a prudent diplomat, a statesman, full of precaution, had + been so foolish? How was it that he had allowed this fatal correspondence + to remain in existence! Why had he not destroyed, at no matter what cost, + these overwhelming proofs, which sooner or later might be used against + him? Such imprudence could only have arisen from an absurd passion, blind + and insensible, even to madness. + </p> + <p> + So long as he was Valerie’s lover, the count never thought of asking the + return of his letters from his beloved accomplice. If the idea had + occurred to him, he would have repelled it as an insult to the character + of his angel. What reason could he have had to suspect her discretion? + None. He would have been much more likely to have supposed her desirous of + removing every trace, even the slightest, of what had taken place. Was it + not her son who had received the benefits of the deed, who had usurped + another’s name and fortune? + </p> + <p> + When eight years after, believing her to be unfaithful, the count had put + an end to the connection which had given him so much happiness he thought + of obtaining possession of this unhappy correspondence. But he knew not + how to do so. A thousand reasons prevented his moving in the matter. + </p> + <p> + The principal one was, that he did not wish to see this woman, once so + dearly loved. He did not feel sufficiently sure either of his anger or of + his firmness. Could he, without yielding, resist the tearful pleading of + those eyes, which had so long held complete sway over him? + </p> + <p> + To look again upon this mistress of his youth would, he feared, result in + his forgiving her; and he had been too cruelly wounded in his pride and in + his affection to admit the idea of a reconciliation. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, to obtain the letters though a third party was entirely + out of the question. He abstained, then, from all action, postponing it + indefinitely. “I will go to her,” said he to himself; “but not until I + have so torn her from my heart that she will have become indifferent to + me. I will not gratify her with the sight of my grief.” + </p> + <p> + So months and years passed on; and finally he began to say and believe + that it was too late. And for now more than twenty years, he had never + passed a day without cursing his inexcusable folly. Never had he been able + to forget that above his head a danger more terrible than the sword of + Damocles hung, suspended by a thread, which the slightest accident might + break. + </p> + <p> + And now that thread had broken. Often, when considering the possibility of + such a catastrophe, he had asked himself how he should avert it? He had + formed and rejected many plans: he had deluded himself, like all men of + imagination, with innumerable chimerical projects, and now he found + himself quite unprepared. + </p> + <p> + Albert stood respectfully, while his father sat in his great armorial + chair, just beneath the large frame in which the genealogical tree of the + illustrious family of Rheteau de Commarin spread its luxuriant branches. + The old gentleman completely concealed the cruel apprehensions which + oppressed him. He seemed neither irritated nor dejected; but his eyes + expressed a haughtiness more than usually disdainful, and a self-reliance + full of contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Now viscount,” he began in a firm voice, “explain yourself. I need say + nothing to you of the position of a father, obliged to blush before his + son; you understand it, and will feel for me. Let us spare each other, and + try to be calm. Tell me, how did you obtain your knowledge of this + correspondence?” + </p> + <p> + Albert had had time to recover himself, and prepare for the present + struggle, as he had impatiently waited four days for this interview. + </p> + <p> + The difficulty he experienced in uttering the first words had now given + place to a dignified and proud demeanor. He expressed himself clearly and + forcibly, without losing himself in those details which in serious matters + needlessly defer the real point at issue. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he replied, “on Sunday morning, a young man called here, stating + that he had business with me of the utmost importance. I received him. He + then revealed to me that I, alas! am only your natural son, substituted + through your affection, for the legitimate child borne you by Madame de + Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + “And did you not have this man kicked out of doors?” exclaimed the count. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I was about to answer him very sharply, of course; but, + presenting me with a packet of letters, he begged me to read them before + replying.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried M. de Commarin, “you should have thrown them into the fire, + for there was a fire, I suppose? You held them in your hands; and they + still exist! Why was I not there?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” said Albert, reproachfully. And, recalling the position Noel had + occupied against the mantelpiece, and the manner in which he stood, he + added,—“Even if the thought had occurred to me, it was + impracticable. Besides, at the first glance, I recognised your + handwriting. I therefore took the letters, and read them.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” + </p> + <p> + “And then, sir, I returned the correspondence to the young man, and asked + for a delay of eight days; not to think over it myself—there was no + need of that,—but because I judged an interview with you + indispensable. Now, therefore, I beseech you, tell me whether this + substitution really did take place. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly it did,” replied the count violently, “yes, certainly. You know + that it did, for you have read what I wrote to Madame Gerdy, your mother.” + </p> + <p> + Albert had foreseen, had expected this reply; but it crushed him + nevertheless. + </p> + <p> + There are misfortunes so great, that one must constantly think of them to + believe in their existence. This flinching, however, lasted but an + instant. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, sir,” he replied. “I was almost convinced; but I had not + received a formal assurance of it. All the letters that I read spoke + distinctly of your purpose, detailed your plan minutely; but not one + pointed to, or in any way confirmed, the execution of your project.” + </p> + <p> + The count gazed at his son with a look of intense surprise. He recollected + distinctly all the letters; and he could remember, that, in writing to + Valerie, he had over and over again rejoiced at their success, thanking + her for having acted in accordance with his wishes. + </p> + <p> + “You did not go to the end of them, then, viscount,” he said, “you did not + read them all?” + </p> + <p> + “Every line, sir, and with an attention that you may well understand. The + last letter shown me simply announced to Madame Gerdy the arrival of + Claudine Lerouge, the nurse who was charged with accomplishing the + substitution. I know nothing beyond that.” + </p> + <p> + “These proofs amount to nothing,” muttered the count. “A man may form a + plan, cherish it for a long time, and at the last moment abandon it; it + often happens so.” + </p> + <p> + He reproached himself for having answered so hastily. Albert had had only + serious suspicions, and he had changed them to certainty. What stupidity! + </p> + <p> + “There can be no possible doubt,” he said to himself; “Valerie has + destroyed the most conclusive letters, those which appeared to her the + most dangerous, those I wrote after the substitution. But why has she + preserved these others, compromising enough in themselves? and why, after + having preserved them, has she let them go out of her possession?” + </p> + <p> + Without moving, Albert awaited a word from the count. What would it be? No + doubt, the old nobleman was at that moment deciding what he should do. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps she is dead!” said M. de Commarin aloud. + </p> + <p> + And at the thought that Valerie was dead, without his having again seen + her, he started painfully. His heart, after more than twenty years of + voluntary separation, still suffered, so deeply rooted was this first love + of his youth. He had cursed her; at this moment he pardoned her. True, she + had deceived him; but did he not owe to her the only years of happiness he + had ever known? Had she not formed all the poetry of his youth? Had he + experienced, since leaving her, one single hour of joy or forgetfulness? + In his present frame of mind, his heart retained only happy memories, like + a vase which, once filled with precious perfumes, retains the odour until + it is destroyed. + </p> + <p> + “Poor woman!” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + He sighed deeply. Three or four times his eyelids trembled, as if a tear + were about to fall. Albert watched him with anxious curiosity. This was + the first time since the viscount had grown to man’s estate that he had + surprised in his father’s countenance other emotion than ambition or + pride, triumphant or defeated. But M. de Commarin was not the man to yield + long to sentiment. + </p> + <p> + “You have not told me, viscount,” he said, “who sent you that messenger of + misfortune.” + </p> + <p> + “He came in person, sir, not wishing, he told me to mix any others up in + this sad affair. The young man was no other than he whose place I have + occupied,—your legitimate son, M. Noel Gerdy himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the count in a low tone, “Noel, that is his name, I remember.” + And then, with evident hesitation, he added: “Did he speak to you of his—of + your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely, sir. He only told me that he came unknown to her; that he had + accidentally discovered the secret which he revealed to me.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin asked nothing further. There was more for him to learn. He + remained for some time deep in thought. The decisive moment had come; and + he saw but one way to escape. + </p> + <p> + “Come, viscount,” he said, in a tone so affectionate that Albert was + astonished, “do not stand; sit down here by me, and let us discuss this + matter. Let us unite our efforts to shun, if possible, this great + misfortune. Confide in me, as a son should in his father. Have you thought + of what is to be done? have you formed any determination?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me, sir, that hesitation is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “My duty, father, is very plain. Before your legitimate son, I ought to + give way without a murmur, if not without regret. Let him come. I am ready + to yield to him everything that I have so long kept from him without a + suspicion of the truth—his father’s love, his fortune and his name.” + </p> + <p> + At this most praiseworthy reply, the old nobleman could scarcely preserve + the calmness he had recommended to his son in the earlier part of the + interview. His face grew purple; and he struck the table with his fist + more furiously than he had ever done in his life. He, usually so guarded, + so decorous on all occasions, uttered a volley of oaths that would not + have done discredit to an old cavalry officer. + </p> + <p> + “And I tell you, sir, that this dream of yours shall never take place. No; + that it sha’n’t. I swear it. I promise you, whatever happens, understand, + that things shall remain as they are; because it is my will. You are + Viscount de Commarin, and Viscount de Commarin you shall remain, in spite + of yourself, if necessary. You shall retain the title to your death, or at + least to mine; for never, while I live, shall your absurd idea be carried + out.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir,” began Albert, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “You are very daring to interrupt me while I am speaking, sir,” exclaimed + the count. “Do I not know all your objections beforehand? You are going to + tell me that it is a revolting injustice, a wicked robbery. I confess it, + and grieve over it more than you possibly can. Do you think that I now for + the first time repent of my youthful folly? For twenty years, sir, I have + lamented my true son; for twenty years I have cursed the wickedness of + which he is the victim. And yet I learnt how to keep silence, and to hide + the sorrow and remorse which have covered my pillow with thorns. In a + single instant, your senseless yielding would render my long sufferings of + no avail. No, I will never permit it!” + </p> + <p> + The count read a reply on his son’s lips: he stopped him with a withering + glance. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” he continued, “that I have never wept over the thought of + my legitimate son passing his life struggling for a competence? Do you + think that I have never felt a burning desire to repair the wrong done + him? There have been times, sir, when I would have given half of my + fortune simply to embrace that child of a wife too tardily appreciated. + The fear of casting a shadow of suspicion upon your birth prevented me. I + have sacrificed myself to the great name I bear. I received it from my + ancestors without a stain. May you hand it down to your children equally + spotless! Your first impulse was a worthy one, generous and noble; but you + must forget it. Think of the scandal, if our secret should be disclosed to + the public gaze. Can you not foresee the joy of our enemies, of that herd + of upstarts which surrounds us? I shudder at the thought of the odium and + the ridicule which would cling to our name. Too many families already have + stains upon their escutcheons; I will have none on mine.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin remained silent for several minutes, during which Albert + did not dare say a word, so much had he been accustomed since infancy to + respect the least wish of the terrible old gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “There is no possible way out of it,” continued the count. “Can I discard + you to-morrow, and present this Noel as my son, saying, ‘Excuse me, but + there has been a slight mistake; this one is the viscount?’ And then the + tribunals will get hold of it. What does it matter who is named Benoit, + Durand, or Bernard? But, when one is called Commarin, even but for a + single day, one must retain that name through life. The same moral does + not do for everyone; because we have not the same duties to perform. In + our position, errors are irreparable. Take courage, then, and show + yourself worthy of the name you bear. The storm is upon you; raise your + head to meet it.” + </p> + <p> + Albert’s impassibility contributed not a little to increase M. de + Commarin’s irritation. Firm in an unchangeable resolution, the viscount + listened like one fulfilling a duty: and his face reflected no emotion. + The count saw that he was not shaken. + </p> + <p> + “What have you to reply?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me sir, that you have no idea of all the dangers which I + foresee. It is difficult to master the revolts of conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” interrupted the count contemptuously; “your conscience revolts, + does it? It has chosen its time badly. Your scruples come too late. So + long as you saw that your inheritance consisted of an illustrious title + and a dozen or so of millions, it pleased you. To-day the name appears to + you laden with a heavy fault, a crime, if you will; and your conscience + revolts. Renounce this folly. Children, sir, are accountable to their + fathers; and they should obey them. Willing or unwilling, you must be my + accomplice; willing or unwilling, you must bear the burden, as I have + borne it. And, however much you may suffer, be assured your sufferings can + never approach what I have endured for so many years.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir!” cried Albert, “is it then I, the dispossessor, who has made + this trouble? is it not, on the contrary, the dispossessed! It is not I + who you have to convince, it is M. Noel Gerdy.” + </p> + <p> + “Noel!” repeated the count. + </p> + <p> + “Your legitimate son, yes, sir. You act as if the issue of this unhappy + affair depended solely upon my will. Do you then, imagine that M. Gerdy + will be so easily disposed of, so easily silenced? And, if he should raise + his voice, do you hope to move him by the considerations you have just + mentioned?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not fear him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are wrong, sir, permit me to tell you. Suppose for a moment that + this young man has a soul sufficiently noble to relinquish his claim upon + your rank and your fortune. Is there not now the accumulated rancour of + years to urge him to oppose you? He cannot help feeling a fierce + resentment for the horrible injustice of which he has been the victim. He + must passionately long for vengeance, or rather reparation.” + </p> + <p> + “He has no proofs.” + </p> + <p> + “He has your letters, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “They are not decisive, you yourself have told me so.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, sir; and yet they convinced me, who have an interest in not + being convinced. Besides, if he needs witnesses, he will find them.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Yourself, viscount?” + </p> + <p> + “Yourself, sir. The day when he wishes it, you will betray us. Suppose you + were summoned before a tribunal, and that there, under oath, you should be + required to speak the truth, what answer would you make?” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin’s face darkened at this very natural supposition. He + hesitated, he whose honour was usually so great. + </p> + <p> + “I would save the name of my ancestors,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + Albert shook his head doubtfully. “At the price of a lie, my father,” he + said. “I never will believe it. But let us suppose even that. He will then + call Madame Gerdy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I will answer for her!” cried the count, “her interests are the same + as ours. If necessary, I will see her. Yes,” he added with an effort, “I + will call on her, I will speak to her; and I will guarantee that she will + not betray us.” + </p> + <p> + “And Claudine,” continued the young man; “will she be silent, too?” + </p> + <p> + “For money, yes; and I will give her whatever she asks.” + </p> + <p> + “And you would trust, father, to a paid silence, as if one could ever be + sure of a purchased conscience? What is sold to you may be sold to + another. A certain sum may close her mouth; a larger will open it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will frighten her.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, father, that Claudine Lerouge was Noel Gerdy’s nurse, that + she takes an interest in his happiness, that she loves him. How do you + know that he has not already secured her aid? She lives at Bougival. I + went there, I remember, with you. No doubt, he sees her often; perhaps it + is she who put him on the track of this correspondence. He spoke to me of + her, as though he were sure of her testimony. He almost proposed my going + to her for information.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” cried the count, “why is not Claudine dead instead of my faithful + Germain?” + </p> + <p> + “You see, sir,” concluded Albert, “Claudine Lerouge would alone render all + your efforts useless.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no!” cried the count; “I shall find some expedient.” + </p> + <p> + The obstinate old gentleman was not willing to give in to this argument, + the very clearness of which blinded him. The pride of his blood paralyzed + his usual practical good sense. To acknowledge that he was conquered + humiliated him, and seemed to him unworthy of himself. He did not remember + to have met during his long career an invincible resistance or an absolute + impediment. He was like all men of imagination, who fall in love with + their projects, and who expect them to succeed on all occasions, as if + wishing hard was all that was necessary to change their dreams into + realities. + </p> + <p> + Albert this time broke the silence, which threatened to be prolonged. + </p> + <p> + “I see, sir,” he said, “that you fear, above all things, the publicity of + this sad history; the possible scandal renders you desperate. But, unless + we yield, the scandal will be terrible. There will be a trial which will + be the talk of all Europe. The newspapers will print the facts, + accompanied by heavens knows what comments of their own. Our name, however + the trial results, will appear in all the papers of the world. This might + be borne, if we were sure of succeeding; but we are bound to lose, my + father, we shall lose. Then think of the exposure! think of the dishonour + branded upon us by public opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said the count, “that you can have neither respect nor + affection for me, when you speak in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “It is my duty, sir, to point out to you the evils I see threatening, and + which there is yet time to shun. M. Noel Gerdy is your legitimate son, + recognize him, acknowledge his just pretensions, and receive him. We can + make the change very quietly. It is easy to account for it, through a + mistake of the nurse, Claudine Lerouge, for instance. All parties being + agreeable, there can be no trouble about it. What is to prevent the new + Viscount de Commarin from quitting Paris, and disappearing for a time? He + might travel about Europe for four or five years; by the end of that time, + all will be forgotten, and no one will remember me.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin was not listening; he was deep in thought. + </p> + <p> + “But instead of contesting, viscount,” he cried, “we might compromise. We + may be able to purchase these letters. What does this young fellow want? A + position and a fortune? I will give him both. I will make him as rich as + he can wish. I will give him a million; if need be, two, three,—half + of all I possess. With money, you see, much money—” + </p> + <p> + “Spare him, sir; he is your son.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately! and I wish him to the devil! I will see him, and he will + agree to what I wish. I will prove to him the bad policy of the earthen + pot struggling with the iron kettle; and, if he is not a fool, he will + understand.” + </p> + <p> + The count rubbed his hands while speaking. He was delighted with this + brilliant plan of negotiation. It could not fail to result favorably. A + crowd of arguments occurred to his mind in support of it. He would buy + back again his lost rest. + </p> + <p> + But Albert did not seem to share his father’s hopes, “You will perhaps + think it unkind in me, sir,” said he, sadly, “to dispel this last illusion + of yours; but I must. Do not delude yourself with the idea of an amicable + arrangement; the awakening will only be the more painful. I have seen M. + Gerdy, my father, and he is not one, I assure you, to be intimidated. If + there is an energetic will in the world, it is his. He is truly your son; + and his expression, like yours, shows an iron resolution, that may be + broken but never bent. I can still hear his voice trembling with + resentment, while he spoke to me. I can still see the dark fire of his + eyes. No, he will never accept a compromise. He will have all or nothing; + and I cannot say that he is wrong. If you resist, he will attack you + without the slightest consideration. Strong in his rights, he will cling + to you with stubborn animosity. He will drag you from court to court; he + will not stop short of utter defeat or complete triumph.” + </p> + <p> + Accustomed to absolute obedience from his son, the old nobleman was + astounded at this unexpected obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + “What is your object in saying all this?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It is this, sir. I should utterly despise myself, if I did not spare your + old age this greatest of calamities. Your name does not belong to me; I + will take my own. I am your natural son; I will give up my place to your + legitimate son. Permit me to withdraw with at least the honour of having + freely done my duty. Do not force me to wait till I am driven out in + disgrace.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried the count, stunned, “you will abandon me? You refuse to help + me, you turn against me, you recognize the rights of this man in spite of + my wishes?” + </p> + <p> + Albert bowed his head. He was much moved, but still remained firm. + </p> + <p> + “My resolution is irrevocably taken,” he replied. “I can never consent to + despoil your son.” + </p> + <p> + “Cruel, ungrateful boy!” cried M. de Commarin. His wrath was such, that, + when he found he could do nothing by abuse, he passed at once to jeering. + “But no,” he continued, “you are great, you are noble, you are generous; + you are acting after the most approved pattern of chivalry, viscount, I + should say, my dear M. Gerdy; after the fashion of Plutarch’s time! So you + give up my name and my fortune, and you leave me. You will shake the dust + from your shoes upon the threshold of my house; and you will go out into + the world. I see only one difficulty in your way. How do you expect to + live, my stoic philosopher? Have you a trade at your fingers’ ends, like + Jean Jacques Rousseau’s Emile? Or, worthy M. Gerdy, have you learned + economy from the four thousand francs a month I allow you for waxing your + moustache? Perhaps you have made money on the Bourse! Then my name must + have seemed very burdensome to you to bear, since you so eagerly + introduced it into such a place! Has dirt, then, so great an attraction + for you that you must jump from your carriage so quickly? Say, rather, + that the company of my friends embarrasses you, and that you are anxious + to go where you will be among your equals.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very wretched, sir,” replied Albert to this avalanche of insults, + “and you would crush me!” + </p> + <p> + “You wretched! Well, whose fault is it? But let us get back to my + question. How and on what will you live?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so romantic as you are pleased to say, sir. I must confess that, + as regards the future, I have counted upon your kindness. You are so rich, + that five hundred thousand francs would not materially affect your + fortune; and, on the interest of that sum, I could live quietly, if not + happily.” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose I refuse you this money?” + </p> + <p> + “I know you well enough, sir, to feel sure that you will not do so. You + are too just to wish that I alone should expiate wrongs that are not of my + making. Left to myself, I should at my present age have achieved a + position. It is late for me to try and make one now; but I will do my + best.” + </p> + <p> + “Superb!” interrupted the count; “you are really superb! One never heard + of such a hero of romance. What a character! But tell me, what do you + expect from all this astonishing disinterestedness?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The count shrugged his shoulders, looked sarcastically at his son, and + observed: “The compensation is very slight. And you expect me to believe + all this! No, sir, mankind is not in the habit of indulging in such fine + actions for its pleasure alone. You must have some reason for acting so + grandly; some reason which I fail to see.” + </p> + <p> + “None but what I have already told you.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore it is understood you intend to relinquish everything; you will + even abandon your proposed union with Mademoiselle Claire d’Arlange? You + forget that for two years I have in vain constantly expressed my + disappointment of this marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I have seen Mademoiselle Claire; I have explained my unhappy + position to her. Whatever happens, she has sworn to be my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think that Madame d’Arlange will give her granddaughter to M. + Gerdy?” + </p> + <p> + “We hope so, sir. The marchioness is sufficiently infected with + aristocratic ideas to prefer a nobleman’s bastard to the son of some + honest tradesman; but should she refuse, we would await her death, though + without desiring it.” + </p> + <p> + The calm manner in which Albert said this enraged the count. + </p> + <p> + “Can this be my son?” he cried. “Never! What blood have you then in your + veins, sir? Your worthy mother alone might tell us, provided, however, she + herself knows.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” cried Albert menacingly, “think well before you speak! She is my + mother, and that is sufficient. I am her son, not her judge. No one shall + insult her in my presence, I will not permit it, sir; and I will suffer it + least of all from you.” + </p> + <p> + The count made great efforts to keep his anger within bounds, but Albert’s + behavior thoroughly enraged him. What, his son rebelled, he dared to brave + him to his face, he threatened him! The old fellow jumped from his chair, + and moved towards the young man as if he would strike him. + </p> + <p> + “Leave the room,” he cried, in a voice choking with rage, “leave the room + instantly! Retire to your apartments, and take care not to leave them + without my orders. To-morrow I will let you know my decision.” + </p> + <p> + Albert bowed respectfully, but without lowering his eyes and walked slowly + to the door. He had already opened it, when M. de Commarin experienced one + of those revulsions of feeling, so frequent in violent natures. + </p> + <p> + “Albert,” said he, “come here and listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + The young man turned back, much affected by this change. + </p> + <p> + “Do not go,” continued the count, “until I have told you what I think. You + are worthy of being the heir of a great house, sir. I may be angry with + you; but I can never lose my esteem for you. You are a noble man, Albert. + Give me your hand.” + </p> + <p> + It was a happy moment for these two men, and such a one as they had + scarcely ever experienced in their lives, restrained as they had been by + cold etiquette. The count felt proud of his son, and recognised in him + himself at that age. For a long time their hands remained clasped, without + either being able to utter a word. + </p> + <p> + At last, M. de Commarin resumed his seat. + </p> + <p> + “I must ask you to leave me, Albert,” he said kindly. “I must be alone to + reflect, to try and accustom myself to this terrible blow.” + </p> + <p> + And, as the young man closed the door, he added, as if giving vent to his + inmost thoughts, “If he, in whom I have placed all my hope, deserts me, + what will become of me? And what will the other one be like?” + </p> + <p> + Albert’s features, when he left the count’s study, bore traces of the + violent emotions he had felt during the interview. The servants whom he + met noticed it the more, as they had heard something of the quarrel. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said an old footman who had been in the family thirty years, “the + count has had another unhappy scene with his son. The old fellow has been + in a dreadful passion.” + </p> + <p> + “I got wind of it at dinner,” spoke up a valet de chambre: “the count + restrained himself enough not to burst out before me; but he rolled his + eyes fiercely.” + </p> + <p> + “What can be the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! that’s more than they know themselves. Why, Denis, before whom + they always speak freely, says that they often wrangle for hours together, + like dogs, about things which he can never see through.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” cried out a young fellow, who was being trained to service, “if I + were in the viscount’s place, I’d settle the old gent pretty effectually!” + </p> + <p> + “Joseph, my friend,” said the footman pointedly, “you are a fool. You + might give your father his walking ticket very properly, because you never + expect five sous from him; and you have already learned how to earn your + living without doing any work at all. But the viscount, pray tell me what + he is good for, what he knows how to do? Put him in the centre of Paris, + with only his fine hands for capital, and you will see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he has his mother’s property in Normandy,” replied Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t for the life of me,” said the valet de chambre, “see what the + count finds to complain of; for his son is a perfect model, and I + shouldn’t be sorry to have one like him. There was a very different pair, + when I was in the Marquis de Courtivois’s service. He was one who made it + a point never to be in good humor. His eldest son, who is a friend of the + viscount’s, and who comes here occasionally, is a pit without a bottom, as + far as money is concerned. He will fritter away a thousand-franc note + quicker than Joseph can smoke a pipe.” + </p> + <p> + “But the marquis is not rich,” said a little old man, who himself had + perhaps the enormous wages of fifteen francs; “he can’t have more than + sixty thousand francs’ income at the most.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s why he gets angry. Every day there is some new story about his + son. He had an apartment in the house; he went in and out when he pleased; + he passed his nights in gaming and drinking; he cut up so with the + actresses that the police had to interfere. Besides all this, I have many + a time had to help him up to his room, and put him to bed, when the + waiters from the restaurants brought him home in a carriage, so drunk that + he could scarcely say a word.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” exclaimed Joseph enthusiastically, “this fellow’s service must be + mighty profitable.” + </p> + <p> + “That was according to circumstances. When he was at play, he was lavish + with his money; but he always lost: and, when he was drunk, he had a quick + temper, and didn’t spare the blows. I must do him the justice to say, + though, that his cigars were splendid. But he was a ruffian; while the + viscount here is a true child of wisdom. He is severe upon our faults, it + is true; but he is never harsh nor brutal to his servants. Then he is + uniformly generous; which in the long run pays us best. I must say that he + is better than the majority, and that the count is very unreasonable.” + </p> + <p> + Such was the judgment of the servants. That of society was perhaps less + favorable. + </p> + <p> + The Viscount de Commarin was not one of those who possess the rather + questionable and at times unenviable accomplishment of pleasing every one. + He was wise enough to distrust those astonishing personages who are always + praising everybody. In looking about us, we often see men of success and + reputation, who are simply dolts, without any merit except their perfect + insignificance. That stupid propriety which offends no one, that uniform + politeness which shocks no one’s vanity, have peculiarly the gift of + pleasing and of succeeding. + </p> + <p> + One cannot meet certain persons without saying, “I know that face; I have + seen it somewhere, before;” because it has no individuality, but simply + resembles faces seen in a common crowd. It is precisely so with the minds + of certain other people. When they speak, you know exactly what they are + going to say; you have heard the same thing so many times already from + them, you know all their ideas by heart. These people are welcomed + everywhere: because they have nothing peculiar about them; and + peculiarity, especially in the upper classes, is always irritating and + offensive; they detest all innovations. + </p> + <p> + Albert was peculiar; consequently much discussed, and very differently + estimated. He was charged with sins of the most opposite character, with + faults so contradictory that they were their own defence. Some accused + him, for instance, of entertaining ideas entirely too liberal for one of + his rank; and, at the same time, others complained of his excessive + arrogance. He was charged with treating with insulting levity the most + serious questions, and was then blamed for his affectation of gravity. + People knew him scarcely well enough to love him, while they were jealous + of him and feared him. + </p> + <p> + He wore a bored look in all fashionable reunions, which was considered + very bad taste. Forced by his relations, by his father, to go into society + a great deal, he was bored, and committed the unpardonable sin of letting + it be seen. Perhaps he had been disgusted by the constant court made to + him, by the rather coarse attentions which were never spared the noble + heir of one of the richest families in France. Having all the necessary + qualities for shining, he despised them. Dreadful sin! He did not abuse + his advantages; and no one ever heard of his getting into a scrape. + </p> + <p> + He had had once, it was said, a very decided liking for Madame Prosny, + perhaps the naughtiest, certainly the most mischievous woman in Paris; but + that was all. Mothers who had daughters to dispose of upheld him; but, for + the last two years, they had turned against him, when his love for + Mademoiselle d’Arlange became well known. + </p> + <p> + At the club they rallied him on his prudence. He had had, like others, his + run of follies; but he had soon got disgusted with what it is the fashion + to call pleasure. The noble profession of bon vivant appeared to him very + tame and tiresome. He did not enjoy passing his nights at cards; nor did + he appreciate the society of those frail sisters, who in Paris give + notoriety to their lovers. He affirmed that a gentleman was not + necessarily an object of ridicule because he would not expose himself in + the theatre with these women. Finally, none of his friends could ever + inoculate him with a passion for the turf. + </p> + <p> + As doing nothing wearied him, he attempted, like the parvenu, to give some + meaning to life by work. He purposed, after a while, to take part in + public affairs; and, as he had often been struck with the gross ignorance + of many men in power, he wished to avoid their example. He busied himself + with politics; and this was the cause of all his quarrels with his father. + The one word of “liberal” was enough to throw the count into convulsions; + and he suspected his son of liberalism, ever since reading an article by + the viscount, published in the “Revue des Deux Mondes.” + </p> + <p> + His ideas, however, did not prevent his fully sustaining his rank. He + spent most nobly on the world the revenue which placed his father and + himself a little above it. His establishment, distinct from the count’s, + was arranged as that of a wealthy young gentleman’s ought to be. His + liveries left nothing to be desired; and his horses and equipages were + celebrated. Letters of invitation were eagerly sought for to the grand + hunting parties, which he formed every year towards the end of October at + Commarin,—an admirable piece of property, covered with immense + woods. + </p> + <p> + Albert’s love for Claire—a deep, well-considered love—had + contributed not a little to keep him from the habits and life of the + pleasant and elegant idleness indulged in by his friends. A noble + attachment is always a great safeguard. In contending against it, M. de + Commarin had only succeeded in increasing its intensity and insuring its + continuance. This passion, so annoying to the count, was the source of the + most vivid, the most powerful emotions in the viscount. Ennui was banished + from his existence. + </p> + <p> + All his thoughts took the same direction; all his actions had but one aim. + Could he look to the right or the left, when, at the end of his journey, + he perceived the reward so ardently desired? He resolved that he would + never have any wife but Claire; his father absolutely refused his consent. + The effort to change this refusal had long been the business of his life. + Finally, after three years of perseverance, he had triumphed; the count + had given his consent. And now, just as he was reaping the happiness of + success, Noel had arrived, implacable as fate, with his cursed letters. + </p> + <p> + On leaving M. de Commarin, and while slowly mounting the stairs which led + to his apartments, Albert’s thoughts reverted to Claire. What was she + doing at that moment? Thinking of him no doubt. She knew that the crisis + would come that very evening, or the next day at the latest. She was + probably praying. Albert was thoroughly exhausted; his head felt dizzy, + and seemed ready to burst. He rang for his servant, and ordered some tea. + </p> + <p> + “You do wrong in not sending for the doctor, sir,” said Lubin, his valet. + “I ought to disobey you, and send for him myself.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be useless,” replied Albert sadly; “he could do nothing for me.” + </p> + <p> + As the valet was leaving the room, he added,—“Say nothing about my + being unwell to any one, Lubin; it is nothing at all. If I should feel + worse, I will ring.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment, to see any one, to hear a voice, to have to reply, was + more than he could bear. He longed to be left entirely to himself. + </p> + <p> + After the painful emotions arising from his explanations with the count, + he could not sleep. He opened one of the library windows, and looked out. + It was a beautiful night: and there was a lovely moon. Seen at this hour, + by the mild, tremulous evening light, the gardens attached to the mansion + seemed twice their usual size. The moving tops of the great trees + stretched away like an immense plain, hiding the neighbouring houses; the + flower-beds, set off by the green shrubs, looked like great black patches, + while particles of shell, tiny pieces of glass, and shining pebbles + sparkled in the carefully kept walks. The horses stamped in the stable and + the rattling of their halter chains against the bars of the manger could + be distinctly heard. In the coach-house the men were putting away for the + night the carriage, always kept ready throughout the evening, in case the + count should wish to go out. + </p> + <p> + Albert was reminded by these surroundings, of the magnificence of his past + life. He sighed deeply. + </p> + <p> + “Must I, then, lose all this?” he murmured. “I can scarcely, even for + myself, abandon so much splendour without regret; and thinking of Claire + makes it hard indeed. Have I not dreamed of a life of exceptional + happiness for her, a result almost impossible to realise without wealth?” + </p> + <p> + Midnight sounded from the neighbouring church of St. Clotilde, and as the + night was chilly, he closed the window, and sat down near the fire, which + he stirred. In the hope of obtaining a respite from his thoughts, he took + up the evening paper, in which was an account of the assassination at La + Jonchere; but he found it impossible to read: the lines danced before his + eyes. Then he thought of writing to Claire. He sat down at his desk, and + wrote, “My dearly loved Claire,” but he could go no further; his + distracted brain could not furnish him with a single sentence. + </p> + <p> + At last, at break of day, he threw himself on to a sofa, and fell into a + heavy sleep peopled with phantoms. + </p> + <p> + At half-past nine in the morning, he was suddenly awakened, by the noise + of the door being hastily opened. A servant entered, with a scared look on + his face, and so out of breath from having come up the stairs four at a + time, that he could scarcely speak. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he, “viscount, be quick, fly and hide, save yourself, they are + here, it is the—” + </p> + <p> + A commissary of police, wearing his sash, appeared at the door. He was + followed by a number of men, among whom M. Tabaret could be seen, keeping + as much out of sight as possible. + </p> + <p> + The commissary approached Albert. + </p> + <p> + “You are,” he asked, “Guy Louis Marie Albert de Rheteau de Commarin?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The commissary placed his hand upon him, while pronouncing the usual + formula: “M. de Commarin, in the name of the law I arrest you.” + </p> + <p> + “Me, sir? me?” + </p> + <p> + Albert, aroused suddenly from his painful dreams, seemed hardly to + comprehend what was taking place, seemed to ask himself,—“Am I + really awake? Is not this some hideous nightmare?” + </p> + <p> + He threw a stupid, astonished look upon the commissary of police, his men, + and M. Tabaret, who had not taken his eyes off him. + </p> + <p> + “Here is the warrant,” added the commissary, unfolding the paper. + </p> + <p> + Mechanically Albert glanced over it. + </p> + <p> + “Claudine assassinated!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + Then very low, but distinct enough to be heard by the commissary, by one + of his officers, and by old Tabaret, he added,—“I am lost!” + </p> + <p> + While the commissary was making inquiries, which immediately follow all + arrests, the police officers spread through the apartments, and proceeded + to a searching examination of them. They had received orders to obey M. + Tabaret, and the old fellow guided them in their search, made them ransack + drawers and closets, and move the furniture to look underneath or behind. + They seized a number of articles belonging to the viscount,—documents, + manuscripts, and a very voluminous correspondence; but it was with + especial delight that M. Tabaret put his hands on certain articles, which + were carefully described in their proper order in the official report: + </p> + <p> + 1. In the ante-room, hung with all sorts of weapons, a broken foil was + found behind a sofa. This foil has a peculiar handle, and is unlike those + commonly sold. It is ornamented with the count’s coronet, and the initials + A. C. It has been broken at about the middle; and the end cannot be found. + When questioned, the viscount declared that he did not know what had + become of the missing end. + </p> + <p> + 2. In the dressing-room, a pair of black cloth trousers was discovered + still damp, and bearing stains of mud or rather of mould. All one side is + smeared with greenish moss, like that which grows on walls. On the front + are numerous rents; and one near the knee is about four inches long. These + trousers had not been hung up with the other clothes; but appear to have + been hidden between two large trunks full of clothing. + </p> + <p> + 3. In the pocket of the above mentioned trousers was found a pair of + lavender kid gloves. The palm of the right hand glove bears a large + greenish stain, produced by grass or moss. The tips of the fingers have + been worn as if by rubbing. Upon the backs of both gloves are some + scratches, apparently made by finger-nails. + </p> + <p> + 4. There were also found in the dressing-room two pairs of boots, one of + which, though clean and polished, was still very damp; and an umbrella + recently wetted, the end of which was still covered with a light coloured + mud. + </p> + <p> + 5. In a large room, called the library, were found a box of cigars of the + trabucos brand, and on the mantel-shelf a number of cigar-holders in amber + and meerschaum. + </p> + <p> + The last article noted down, M. Tabaret approached the commissary of + police. + </p> + <p> + “I have everything I could desire,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “And I have finished,” replied the commissary. “Our prisoner does not + appear to know exactly how to act. You heard what he said. He gave in at + once. I suppose YOU will call it lack of experience.” + </p> + <p> + “In the middle of the day,” replied the amateur detective in a whisper, + “he would not have been quite so crestfallen. But early in the morning, + suddenly awakened, you know—Always arrest a person early in the + morning, when he’s hungry, and only half awake.” + </p> + <p> + “I have questioned some of the servants. Their evidence is rather + peculiar.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; we shall see. But I must hurry off and find the investigating + magistrate, who is impatiently expecting me.” + </p> + <p> + Albert was beginning to recover a little from the stupor into which he had + been plunged by the entrance of the commissary of police. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he asked, “will you permit me to say a few words in your presence + to the Count de Commarin? I am the victim of some mistake, which will be + very soon discovered.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s always a mistake,” muttered old Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + “What you ask is impossible,” replied the commissary. “I have special + orders of the strictest sort. You must not henceforth communicate with a + living soul. A cab is in waiting below. Have the goodness to accompany me + to it.” + </p> + <p> + In crossing the vestibule, Albert noticed a great stir among the servants; + they all seemed to have lost their senses. M. Denis gave some orders in a + sharp, imperative tone. Then he thought he heard that the Count de + Commarin had been struck down with apoplexy. After that, he remembered + nothing. They almost carried him to the cab which drove off as fast as the + two little horses could go. M. Tabaret had just hastened away in a more + rapid vehicle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <p> + The visitor who risks himself in the labyrinth of galleries and stairways + in the Palais de Justice, and mounts to the third story in the left wing, + will find himself in a long, low-studded gallery, badly lighted by narrow + windows, and pierced at short intervals by little doors, like a hall at + the ministry or at a lodging-house. + </p> + <p> + It is a place difficult to view calmly, the imagination makes it appear so + dark and dismal. + </p> + <p> + It needs a Dante to compose an inscription to place above the doors which + lead from it. From morning to night, the flagstones resound under the + heavy tread of the gendarmes, who accompany the prisoners. You can + scarcely recall anything but sad figures there. There are the parents or + friends of the accused, the witnesses, the detectives. In this gallery, + far from the sight of men, the judicial curriculum is gone through with. + </p> + <p> + Each one of the little doors, which has its number painted over it in + black, opens into the office of a judge of inquiry. All the rooms are just + alike: if you see one, you have seen them all. They have nothing terrible + nor sad in themselves; and yet it is difficult to enter one of them + without a shudder. They are cold. The walls all seem moist with the tears + which have been shed there. You shudder, at thinking of the avowals + wrested from the criminals, of the confessions broken with sobs murmured + there. + </p> + <p> + In the office of the judge of inquiry, Justice clothes herself in none of + that apparel which she afterwards dons in order to strike fear into the + masses. She is still simple, and almost disposed to kindness. She says to + the prisoner,— + </p> + <p> + “I have strong reasons for thinking you guilty; but prove to me your + innocence, and I will release you.” + </p> + <p> + On entering one of these rooms, a stranger would imagine that he got into + a cheap shop by mistake. The furniture is of the most primitive sort, as + is the case in all places where important matters are transacted. Of what + consequence are surroundings to the judge hunting down the author of a + crime, or to the accused who is defending his life? + </p> + <p> + A desk full of documents for the judge, a table for the clerk, an + arm-chair, and one or two chairs besides comprise the entire furniture of + the antechamber of the court of assize. The walls are hung with green + paper; the curtains are green, and the floors are carpeted in the same + color. Monsieur Daburon’s office bore the number fifteen. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had arrived at his office in the Palais de Justice at nine + o’clock in the morning, and was waiting. His course resolved upon, he had + not lost an instant, understanding as well as old Tabaret the necessity + for rapid action. He had already had an interview with the public + prosecutor, and had arranged everything with the police. + </p> + <p> + Besides issuing the warrant against Albert, he had summoned the Count de + Commarin, Madame Gerdy, Noel, and some of Albert’s servants, to appear + before him with as little delay as possible. + </p> + <p> + He thought it essential to question all these persons before examining the + prisoner. Several detectives had started off to execute his orders, and he + himself sat in his office, like a general commanding an army, who sends + off his aide-de-camp to begin the battle, and who hopes that victory will + crown his combinations. + </p> + <p> + Often, at this same hour, he had sat in this office, under circumstances + almost identical. A crime had been committed, and, believing he had + discovered the criminal, he had given orders for his arrest. Was not that + his duty? But he had never before experienced the anxiety of mind which + disturbed him now. Many a time had he issued warrants of arrest, without + possessing even half the proofs which guided him in the present case. He + kept repeating this to himself; and yet he could not quiet his dreadful + anxiety, which would not allow him a moment’s rest. + </p> + <p> + He wondered why his people were so long in making their appearance. He + walked up and down the room, counting the minutes, drawing out his watch + three times within a quarter of an hour, to compare it with the clock. + Every time he heard a step in the passage, almost deserted at that hour, + he moved near the door, stopped and listened. At length some one knocked. + It was his clerk, whom he had sent for. There was nothing particular in + this man; he was tall rather than big, and very slim. His gait was + precise, his gestures were methodical, and his face was as impassive as if + it had been cut out of a piece of yellow wood. He was thirty-four years of + age and during fifteen years had acted as clerk to four investigating + magistrates in succession. He could hear the most astonishing things + without moving a muscle. His name was Constant. + </p> + <p> + He bowed to the magistrate, and excused himself for his tardiness. He had + been busy with some book-keeping, which he did every morning; and his wife + had had to send after him. + </p> + <p> + “You are still in good time,” said M. Daburon: “but we shall soon have + plenty of work: so you had better get your paper ready.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later, the usher introduced M. Noel Gerdy. He entered with an + easy manner, like an advocate who was well acquainted with the Palais, and + who knew its winding ways. He in no wise resembled, this morning, old + Tabaret’s friend; still less could he have been recognized as Madame + Juliette’s lover. He was entirely another being, or rather he had resumed + his every-day bearing. From his firm step, his placid face, one would + never imagine that, after an evening of emotion and excitement, after a + secret visit to his mistress, he had passed the night by the pillow of a + dying woman, and that woman his mother, or at least one who had filled his + mother’s place. + </p> + <p> + What a contrast between him and the magistrate! + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had not slept either: but one could easily see that in his + feebleness, in his anxious look, in the dark circles about his eyes. His + shirt-front was all rumpled, and his cuffs were far from clean. Carried + away by the course of events, the mind had forgotten the body. Noel’s + well-shaved chin, on the contrary, rested upon an irreproachably white + cravat; his collar did not show a crease; his hair and his whiskers had + been most carefully brushed. He bowed to M. Daburon, and held out the + summons he had received. + </p> + <p> + “You summoned me, sir,” he said; “and I am here awaiting your orders.” + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate had met the young advocate several times in + the lobbies of the Palais; and he knew him well by sight. He remembered + having heard M. Gerdy spoken of as a man of talent and promise, whose + reputation was fast rising. He therefore welcomed him as a fellow-workman, + and invited him to be seated. + </p> + <p> + The preliminaries common in the examinations of all witnesses ended; the + name, surname, age, place of business, and so on having been written down, + the magistrate, who had followed his clerk with his eyes while he was + writing, turned towards Noel. + </p> + <p> + “I presume you know, M. Gerdy,” he began, “the matters in connection with + which you are troubled with appearing before me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, the murder of that poor old woman at La Jonchere.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” replied M. Daburon. Then, calling to mind his promise to old + Tabaret, he added, “If justice has summoned you so promptly, it is because + we have found your name often mentioned in Widow Lerouge’s papers.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not surprised at that,” replied the advocate: “we were greatly + interested in that poor woman, who was my nurse; and I know that Madame + Gerdy wrote to her frequently.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; then you can give me some information about her.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear, sir, that it will be very incomplete. I know very little about + this poor old Madame Lerouge. I was taken from her at a very early age; + and, since I have been a man, I have thought but little about her, except + to send her occasionally a little aid.” + </p> + <p> + “You never went to visit her?” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me. I have gone there to see her many times, but I remained only a + few minutes. Madame Gerdy, who has often seen her, and to whom she talked + of all her affairs, could have enlightened you much better than I.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the magistrate, “I expect shortly to see Madame Gerdy here; + she, too, must have received a summons.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, sir, but it is impossible for her to appear. She is ill in + bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Seriously?” + </p> + <p> + “So seriously that you will be obliged, I think, to give up all hope of + her testimony. She is attacked with a disease which, in the words of my + friend, Dr. Herve, never forgives. It is something like inflammation of + the brain, if I am not mistaken. It may be that her life will be saved, + but she will never recover her reason. If she does not die, she will be + insane.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon appeared greatly vexed. “This is very annoying,” he muttered. + “And you think, my dear sir, that it will be impossible to obtain any + information from her?” + </p> + <p> + “It is useless even to hope for it. She has completely lost her reason. + She was, when I left her, in such a state of utter prostration that I fear + she can not live through the day.” + </p> + <p> + “And when was she attacked by this illness?” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; at least, apparently so, though I myself think she has been + unwell for the last three weeks at least. Yesterday, however, on rising + from dinner, after having eaten but little, she took up a newspaper; and, + by a most unfortunate hazard, her eyes fell exactly upon the lines which + gave an account of this crime. She at once uttered a loud cry, fell back + in her chair, and thence slipped to the floor, murmuring, ‘Oh, the unhappy + man, the unhappy man!’” + </p> + <p> + “The unhappy woman, you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. She uttered the words I have just repeated. Evidently the + exclamation did not refer to my poor nurse.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this reply, so important and yet made in the most unconscious tone, + M. Daburon raised his eyes to the witness. The advocate lowered his head. + </p> + <p> + “And then?” asked the magistrate, after a moment’s silence, during which + he had taken a few notes. + </p> + <p> + “Those words, sir, were the last spoken by Madame Gerdy. Assisted by our + servant, I carried her to her bed. The doctor was sent for; and, since + then, she has not recovered consciousness. The doctor—” + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” interrupted M. Daburon. “Let us leave that for the present. + Do you know, sir, whether Widow Lerouge had any enemies?” + </p> + <p> + “None that I know of, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “She had no enemies? Well, now tell me, does there exist to your knowledge + any one having the least interest in the death of this poor woman?” + </p> + <p> + As he asked this question the investigating magistrate kept his eyes fixed + on Noel’s, not wishing him to turn or lower his head. + </p> + <p> + The advocate started, and seemed deeply moved. He was disconcerted; he + hesitated, as if a struggle was going on within him. + </p> + <p> + Finally, in a voice which was by no means firm, he replied, “No, no one.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that really true?” asked the magistrate, looking at him more + searchingly. “You know no one whom this crime benefits, or whom it might + benefit,—absolutely no one?” + </p> + <p> + “I know only one thing, sir,” replied Noel; “and that is, that, as far as + I am concerned, it has caused me an irreparable injury.” + </p> + <p> + “At last,” thought M. Daburon, “we have got at the letters; and I have not + betrayed poor old Tabaret. It would be too bad to cause the least trouble + to that zealous and invaluable man.” He then added aloud: “An injury to + you, my dear sir? You will, I hope, explain yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Noel’s embarrassment, of which he had already given some signs, appeared + much more marked. + </p> + <p> + “I am aware, sir,” he replied, “that I owe justice not merely the truth, + but the whole truth; but there are circumstances involved so delicate that + the conscience of a man of honour sees danger in them. Besides, it is very + hard to be obliged to unveil such sad secrets, the revelation of which may + sometimes—” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon interrupted with a gesture. Noel’s sad tone impressed him. + Knowing, beforehand, what he was about to hear, he felt for the young + advocate. He turned to his clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Constant!” said he in a peculiar tone. This was evidently a signal; for + the tall clerk rose methodically, put his pen behind his ear, and went out + in his measured tread. + </p> + <p> + Noel appeared sensible of this kindness. His face expressed the strongest + gratitude; his look returned thanks. + </p> + <p> + “I am very much obliged to you, sir,” he said with suppressed warmth, “for + your considerateness. What I have to say is very painful; but it will be + scarcely an effort to speak before you now.” + </p> + <p> + “Fear nothing,” replied the magistrate; “I will only retain of your + deposition, my dear sir, what seems to me absolutely indispensable.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel scarcely master of myself, sir,” began Noel; “so pray pardon my + emotion. If any words escape me that seem charged with bitterness, excuse + them; they will be involuntary. Up to the past few days, I always believed + that I was the offspring of illicit love. My history is short. I have been + honourably ambitious; I have worked hard. He who has no name must make + one, you know. I have passed a quiet life, retired and austere, as people + must, who, starting at the foot of the ladder, wish to reach the top. I + worshipped her whom I believed to be my mother; and I felt convinced that + she loved me in return. The stain of my birth had some humiliations + attached to it; but I despised them. Comparing my lot with that of so many + others, I felt that I had more than common advantages. One day, Providence + placed in my hands all the letters which my father, the Count de Commarin, + had written to Madame Gerdy during the time she was his mistress. On + reading these letters, I was convinced that I was not what I had hitherto + believed myself to be,—that Madame Gerdy was not my mother!” + </p> + <p> + And, without giving M. Daburon time to reply, he laid before him the facts + which, twelve hours before, he had related to M. Tabaret. It was the same + story, with the same circumstances, the same abundance of precise and + conclusive details; but the tone in which it was told was entirely + changed. When speaking to the old detective, the young advocate had been + emphatic and violent; but now, in the presence of the investigating + magistrate, he restrained his vehement emotions. + </p> + <p> + One might imagine that he adapted his style to his auditors, wishing to + produce the same effect on both, and using the method which would best + accomplish his purpose. + </p> + <p> + To an ordinary mind like M. Tabaret’s he used the exaggeration of anger; + but to a man of superior intelligence like M. Daburon, he employed the + exaggeration of restraint. With the detective he had rebelled against his + unjust lot; but with the magistrate he seemed to bow, full of resignation, + before a blind fatality. + </p> + <p> + With genuine eloquence and rare facility of expression, he related his + feelings on the day following the discovery,—his grief, his + perplexity, his doubts. + </p> + <p> + To support this moral certainty, some positive testimony was needed. Could + he hope for this from the count or from Madame Gerdy, both interested in + concealing the truth? No. But he had counted upon that of his nurse,—the + poor old woman who loved him, and who, near the close of her life, would + be glad to free her conscience from this heavy load. She was dead now; and + the letters became mere waste paper in his hands. + </p> + <p> + Then he passed on to his explanation with Madame Gerdy, and he gave the + magistrate even fuller details than he had given his old neighbour. + </p> + <p> + She had, he said, at first utterly denied the substitution, but he + insinuated that, plied with questions, and overcome by the evidence, she + had, in a moment of despair, confessed all, declaring, soon after, that + she would retract and deny this confession, being resolved at all hazards + that her son should preserve his position. + </p> + <p> + From this scene, in the advocate’s judgment, might be dated the first + attacks of the illness, to which she was now succumbing. + </p> + <p> + Noel then described his interview with the Viscount de Commarin. A few + inaccuracies occurred in his narrative, but so slight that it would have + been difficult to charge him with them. Besides, there was nothing in them + at all unfavourable to Albert. + </p> + <p> + He insisted, on the contrary, upon the excellent impression which that + young man had made on him. Albert had received the revelation with a + certain distrust, it is true, but with a noble firmness at the same time, + and, like a brave heart, was ready to bow before the justification of + right. + </p> + <p> + In fact, he drew an almost enthusiastic portrait of this rival, who had + not been spoiled by prosperity, who had left him without a look of hatred, + towards whom he felt himself drawn, and who after all was his brother. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon listened to Noel with the most unremitting attention, without + allowing a word, a movement, or a frown, to betray his feelings. + </p> + <p> + “How, sir,” observed the magistrate when the young man ceased speaking, + “could you have told me that, in your opinion, no one was interested in + Widow Lerouge’s death?” + </p> + <p> + The advocate made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” continued M. Daburon, “that the Viscount de Commarin’s + position has thereby become almost impregnable. Madame Gerdy is insane; + the count will deny all; your letters prove nothing. It is evident that + the crime is of the greatest service to this young man, and that it was + committed at a singularly favourable moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh sir!” cried Noel, protesting with all his energy, “this insinuation is + dreadful.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate watched the advocate’s face narrowly. Was he speaking + frankly, or was he but playing at being generous? Could it really be that + he had never had any suspicion of this? + </p> + <p> + Noel did not flinch under the gaze, but almost immediately continued,—“What + reason could this young man have for trembling, or fearing for his + position? I did not utter one threatening word, even indirectly. I did not + present myself like a man who, furious at being robbed, demands that + everything which had been taken from him should be restored on the spot. I + merely presented the facts to Albert, saying, ‘Here is the truth? what do + you think we ought to do? Be the judge.’” + </p> + <p> + “And he asked you for time?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I had suggested his accompanying me to see Widow Lerouge, whose + testimony might dispel all doubts; he did not seem to understand me. But + he was well acquainted with her, having visited her with the count, who + supplied her, I have since learned, liberally with money.” + </p> + <p> + “Did not this generosity appear to you very singular?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you explain why the viscount did not appear disposed to accompany + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. He had just said that he wished, before all, to have an + explanation with his father, who was then absent, but who would return in + a few days.” + </p> + <p> + The truth, as all the world knows, and delights in proclaiming, has an + accent which no one can mistake. M. Daburon had not the slightest doubt of + his witness’s good faith. Noel continued with the ingenuous candour of an + honest heart which suspicion has never touched with its bat’s wing: “The + idea of treating at once with my father pleased me exceedingly. I thought + it so much better to wash all one’s dirty linen at home, I had never + desired anything but an amicable arrangement. With my hands full of + proofs, I should still recoil from a public trial.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you not have brought an action?” + </p> + <p> + “Never, sir, not at any price. Could I,” he added proudly, “to regain my + rightful name, begin by dishonouring it?” + </p> + <p> + This time M. Daburon could not conceal his sincere admiration. + </p> + <p> + “A most praiseworthy feeling, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” replied Noel, “that it is but natural. If things came to the + worst, I had determined to leave my title with Albert. No doubt the name + of Commarin is an illustrious one; but I hope that, in ten years time, + mine will be more known. I would, however, have demanded a large pecuniary + compensation. I possess nothing: and I have often been hampered in my + career by the want of money. That which Madame Gerdy owed to the + generosity of my father was almost entirely spent. My education had + absorbed a great part of it; and it was long before my profession covered + my expenses. Madame Gerdy and I live very quietly; but, unfortunately, + though simple in her tastes, she lacks economy and system; and no one can + imagine how great our expenses have been. But I have nothing to reproach + myself with, whatever happens. At the commencement, I could not keep my + anger well under control; but now I bear no ill-will. On learning of the + death of my nurse, though, I cast all my hopes into the sea.” + </p> + <p> + “You were wrong, my dear sir,” said the magistrate. “I advise you to still + hope. Perhaps, before the end of the day, you will enter into possession + of your rights. Justice, I will not conceal from you, thinks she has found + Widow Lerouge’s assassin. At this moment, Viscount Albert is doubtless + under arrest.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed Noel, with a sort of stupor: “I was not, then, mistaken, + sir, in the meaning of your words. I dreaded to understand them.” + </p> + <p> + “You have not mistaken me, sir,” said M. Daburon. “I thank you for your + sincere straightforward explanations; they have eased my task materially. + To-morrow,—for today my time is all taken up,—we will write + down your deposition together if you like. I have nothing more to say, I + believe, except to ask you for the letters in your possession, and which + are indispensable to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Within an hour, sir, you shall have them,” replied Noel. And he retired, + after having warmly expressed his gratitude to the investigating + magistrate. + </p> + <p> + Had he been less preoccupied, the advocate might have perceived at the end + of the gallery old Tabaret, who had just arrived, eager and happy, like a + bearer of great news as he was. + </p> + <p> + His cab had scarcely stopped at the gate of the Palais de Justice before + he was in the courtyard and rushing towards the porch. To see him jumping + more nimbly than a fifth-rate lawyer’s clerk up the steep flight of stairs + leading to the magistrate’s office, one would never have believed that he + was many years on the shady side of fifty. Even he himself had forgotten + it. He did not remember how he had passed the night; he had never before + felt so fresh, so agile, in such spirits; he seemed to have springs of + steel in his limbs. + </p> + <p> + He burst like a cannon-shot into the magistrate’s office, knocking up + against the methodical clerk in the rudest of ways, without even asking + his pardon. + </p> + <p> + “Caught!” he cried, while yet on the threshold, “caught, nipped, squeezed, + strung, trapped, locked! We have got the man.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret, more Tirauclair than ever, gesticulated with such comical + vehemence and such remarkable contortions that even the tall clerk smiled, + for which, however, he took himself severely to task on going to bed that + night. + </p> + <p> + But M. Daburon, still under the influence of Noel’s deposition, was + shocked at this apparently unseasonable joy; although he felt the safer + for it. He looked severely at old Tabaret, saying,—“Hush, sir; be + decent, compose yourself.” + </p> + <p> + At any other time, the old fellow would have felt ashamed at having + deserved such a reprimand. Now, it made no impression on him. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t be quiet,” he replied. “Never has anything like this been known + before. All that I mentioned has been found. Broken foil, lavender kid + gloves slightly frayed, cigar-holder; nothing is wanting. You shall have + them, sir, and many other things besides. I have a little system of my + own, which appears by no means a bad one. Just see the triumph of my + method of induction, which Gevrol ridiculed so much. I’d give a hundred + francs if he were only here now. But no; my Gevrol wants to nab the man + with the earrings; he is just capable of doing that. He is a fine fellow, + this Gevrol, a famous fellow! How much do you give him a year for his + skill?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, my dear M. Tabaret,” said the magistrate, as soon as he could get + in a word, “be serious, if you can, and let us proceed in order.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” replied the old fellow, “what good will that do? It is a clear + case now. When they bring the fellow before you, merely show him the + particles of kid taken from behind the nails of the victim, side by side + with his torn gloves, and you will overwhelm him. I wager that he will + confess all, hic et nunc,—yes, I wager my head against his; although + that’s pretty risky; for he may get off yet! Those milk-sops on the jury + are just capable of according him extenuating circumstances. Ah! all those + delays are fatal to justice! Why if all the world were of my mind, the + punishment of rascals wouldn’t take such a time. They should be hanged as + soon as caught. That’s my opinion.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon resigned himself to this shower of words. As soon as the old + fellow’s excitement had cooled down a little, he began questioning him. He + even then had great trouble in obtaining the exact details of the arrest; + details which later on were confirmed by the commissary’s official report. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate appeared very surprised when he heard that Albert had + exclaimed, “I am lost!” at sight of the warrant. “That,” muttered he, “is + a terrible proof against him.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so,” replied old Tabaret. “In his ordinary state, he would + never have allowed himself to utter such words; for they in fact destroy + him. We arrested him when he was scarcely awake. He hadn’t been in bed, + but was lying in a troubled sleep, upon a sofa, when we arrived. I took + good care to let a frightened servant run in in advance, and to follow + closely upon him myself, to see the effect. All my arrangements were made. + But, never fear, he will find a plausible excuse for this fatal + exclamation. By the way, I should add that we found on the floor, near by, + a crumpled copy of last evening’s ‘Gazette de France,’ which contained an + account of the assassination. This is the first time that a piece of news + in the papers ever helped to nab a criminal.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” murmured the magistrate, deep in thought, “yes, you are a valuable + man, M. Tabaret.” Then, louder, he added, “I am thoroughly convinced; for + M. Gerdy has just this moment left me.” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen Noel!” cried the old fellow. On the instant all his proud + self-satisfaction disappeared. A cloud of anxiety spread itself like a + veil over his beaming countenance. “Noel here,” he repeated. Then he + timidly added: “And does he know?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” replied M. Daburon. “I had no need of mentioning your name. + Besides, had I not promised absolute secrecy?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s all right,” cried old Tabaret. “And what do you think sir, of + Noel?” + </p> + <p> + “His is, I am sure, a noble, worthy heart,” said the magistrate; “a nature + both strong and tender. The sentiments which I heard him express here, and + the genuineness of which it is impossible to doubt, manifested an + elevation of soul, unhappily, very rare. Seldom in my life have I met with + a man who so won my sympathy from the first. I can well understand one’s + pride in being among his friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Just what I said; he has precisely the same effect upon every one. I love + him as though he were my own child; and, whatever happens, he will inherit + almost the whole of my fortune: yes, I intend leaving him everything. My + will is made, and is in the hands of M. Baron, my notary. There is a small + legacy, too, for Madame Gerdy; but I am going to have the paragraph that + relates to that taken out at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Gerdy, M. Tabaret, will soon be beyond all need of worldly goods.” + </p> + <p> + “How, what do you mean? Has the count—” + </p> + <p> + “She is dying, and is not likely to live through the day; M. Gerdy told me + so himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! heavens!” cried the old fellow, “what is that you say? Dying? Noel + will be distracted; but no: since she is not his mother, how can it affect + him? Dying! I thought so much of her before this discovery. Poor humanity! + It seems as though all the accomplices are passing away at the same time; + for I forgot to tell you, that, just as I was leaving the Commarin + mansion, I heard a servant tell another that the count had fallen down in + a fit on learning the news of his son’s arrest.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be a great misfortune for M. Gerdy.” + </p> + <p> + “For Noel?” + </p> + <p> + “I had counted upon M. de Commarin’s testimony to recover for him all that + he so well deserves. The count dead, Widow Lerouge dead, Madame Gerdy + dying, or in any event insane, who then can tell us whether the + substitution alluded to in the letters was ever carried into execution?” + </p> + <p> + “True,” murmured old Tabaret; “it is true! And I did not think of it. What + fatality! For I am not deceived; I am certain that—” + </p> + <p> + He did not finish. The door of M. Daburon’s office opened, and the Count + de Commarin himself appeared on the threshold, as rigid as one of those + old portraits which look as though they were frozen in their gilded + frames. The nobleman motioned with his hand, and the two servants who had + helped him up as far as the door, retired. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. + </h2> + <p> + It was indeed the Count de Commarin, though more like his shadow. His + head, usually carried so high, leant upon his chest; his figure was bent; + his eyes had no longer their accustomed fire; his hands trembled. The + extreme disorder of his dress rendered more striking still the change + which had come over him. In one night, he had grown twenty years older. + This man, yesterday so proud of never having bent to a storm, was now + completely shattered. The pride of his name had constituted his entire + strength; that humbled, he seemed utterly overwhelmed. Everything in him + gave way at once; all his supports failed him at the same time. His cold, + lifeless gaze revealed the dull stupor of his thoughts. He presented such + a picture of utter despair that the investigating magistrate slightly + shuddered at the sight. M. Tabaret looked frightened, and even the clerk + seemed moved. + </p> + <p> + “Constant,” said M. Daburon quickly, “go with M. Tabaret, and see if + there’s any news at the Prefecture.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk left the room, followed by the detective, who went away + regretfully. The count had not noticed their presence; he paid no + attention to their departure. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon offered him a seat, which he accepted with a sad smile. “I feel + so weak,” said he, “you must excuse my sitting.” + </p> + <p> + Apologies to an investigating magistrate! What an advance in civilisation, + when the nobles consider themselves subject to the law, and bow to its + decrees! Every one respects justice now-a-days, and fears it a little, + even when only represented by a simple and conscientious investigating + magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “You are, perhaps, too unwell, count,” said the magistrate, “to give me + the explanations I had hoped for.” + </p> + <p> + “I am better, thank you,” replied M. de Commarin, “I am as well as could + be expected after the shock I have received. When I heard of the crime of + which my son is accused, and of his arrest, I was thunderstruck. I + believed myself a strong man; but I rolled in the dust. My servants + thought me dead. Why was it not so? The strength of my constitution, my + physician tells me, was all that saved me; but I believe that heaven + wishes me to live, that I may drink to the bitter dregs my cup of + humiliation.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped suddenly, nearly choked by a flow of blood that rose to his + mouth. + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate remained standing near the table, almost + afraid to move. + </p> + <p> + After a few moments’ rest, the count found relief, and continued,—“Unhappy + man that I am! ought I not to have expected it? Everything comes to light + sooner or later. I am punished for my great sin,—pride. I thought + myself out of reach of the thunderbolt; and I have been the means of + drawing down the storm upon my house. Albert an assassin! A Viscount de + Commarin arraigned before a court of assize! Ah, sir, punish me, also; for + I alone and long ago, laid the foundation of this crime. Fifteen centuries + of spotless fame end with me in infamy.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon considered Count de Commarin’s conduct unpardonable, and had + determined not to spare him. + </p> + <p> + He had expected to meet a proud, haughty noble, almost unmanageable; and + he had resolved to humble his arrogance. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the harsh treatment he had received of old from the Marchioness + d’Arlange had given him, unconsciously, a slight grudge against the + aristocracy. + </p> + <p> + He had vaguely thought of certain rather severe remarks, which were to + overcome the old nobleman, and bring him to a sense of his position. + </p> + <p> + But when he found himself in the presence of such a sincere repentance, + his indignation changed to profound pity; and he began to wonder how he + could assuage the count’s grief. + </p> + <p> + “Write, sir,” continued M. de Commarin with an exaltation of which he did + not seem capable ten minutes before,—“write my avowal and suppress + nothing. I have no longer need of mercy nor of tenderness. What have I to + fear now? Is not my disgrace public? Must not I, Count Rheteau de Commarin + appear before the tribunal, to proclaim the infamy of our house? Ah! all + is lost now, even honour itself. Write, sir; for I wish that all the world + shall know that I am the most deserving of blame. But they shall also know + that the punishment has been already terrible, and that there was no need + for this last and awful trial.” + </p> + <p> + The count stopped for a moment, to concentrate and arrange his memory. + </p> + <p> + He soon continued, in a firmer voice, and adapting his tone to what he had + to say, “When I was of Albert’s age, sir, my parents made me marry, in + spite of my protestations, the noblest and purest of young girls. I made + her the most unhappy of women. I could not love her. I cherished a most + passionate love for a mistress, who had trusted herself to me, and whom I + had loved for a long time. I found her rich in beauty, purity and mind. + Her name was Valerie. My heart is, so to say, dead and cold in me, sir, + but, ah! when I pronounce that name, it still has a great effect upon me. + In spite of my marriage, I could not induce myself to part from her, + though she wished me to. The idea of sharing my love with another was + revolting to her. No doubt she loved me then. Our relations continued. My + wife and my mistress became mothers at nearly the same time. This + coincidence suggested to me the fatal idea of sacrificing my legitimate + son to his less fortunate brother. I communicated this project to Valerie. + To my great surprise, she refused it with horror. Already the maternal + instinct was aroused within her; she would not be separated from her + child. I have preserved, as a monument of my folly, the letters which she + wrote to me at that time. I re-read them only last night. Ah! why did I + not listen to both her arguments and her prayers? It was because I was + mad. She had a sort of presentiment of the evil which overwhelms me + to-day. But I came to Paris;—I had absolute control over her. I + threatened to leave her, never to see her again. She yielded; and my valet + and Claudine Lerouge were charged with this wicked substitution. It is, + therefore, the son of my mistress who bears the title of Viscount de + Commarin, and who was arrested but a short time ago.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had not hoped for a declaration so clear, and above all so + prompt. He secretly rejoiced for the young advocate whose noble sentiments + had quite captivated him. + </p> + <p> + “So, count,” said he, “you acknowledge that M. Noel Gerdy is the issue of + your legitimate marriage, and that he alone is entitled to bear your + name?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Alas! I was then more delighted at the success of my project + than I should have been over the most brilliant victory. I was so + intoxicated with the joy of having my Valerie’s child there, near me, that + I forgot everything else. I had transferred to him a part of my love for + his mother; or, rather, I loved him still more, if that be possible. The + thought that he would bear my name, that he would inherit all my wealth, + to the detriment of the other, transported me with delight. The other, I + hated; I could not even look upon him. I do not recollect having kissed + him twice. On this point Valerie, who was very good, reproached me + severely. One thing alone interfered with my happiness. The Countess de + Commarin adored him whom she believed to be her son, and always wished to + have him on her knees. I cannot express what I suffered at seeing my wife + cover with kisses and caresses the child of my mistress. But I kept him + from her as much as I could; and she, poor woman! not understanding what + was passing within me, imagined that I was doing everything to prevent her + son loving her. She died, sir, with this idea, which poisoned her last + days. She died of sorrow; but saint-like, without a complaint, without a + murmur, pardon upon her lips and in her heart.” + </p> + <p> + Though greatly pressed for time, M. Daburon did not venture to interrupt + the count, to ask him briefly for the immediate facts of the case. He knew + that fever alone gave him this unnatural energy, to which at any moment + might succeed the most complete prostration. He feared, if he stopped him + for an instant, that he would not have strength enough to resume. + </p> + <p> + “I did not shed a single tear,” continued the count. “What had she been in + my life? A cause of sorrow and remorse. But God’s justice, in advance of + man’s was about to take a terrible revenge. One day, I was warned that + Valerie was deceiving me, and had done so for a long time. I could not + believe it at first; it seemed to me impossible, absurd. I would have + sooner doubted myself than her. I had taken her from a garret, where she + was working sixteen hours a day to earn a few pence; she owed all to me. I + had made her so much a part of myself that I could not credit her being + false. I could not induce myself to feel jealous. However, I inquired into + the matter; I had her watched; I even acted the spy upon her myself. I had + been told the truth. This unhappy woman had another lover, and had had him + for more than ten years. He was a cavalry officer. In coming to her house + he took every precaution. He usually left about midnight; but sometimes he + came to pass the night, and in that case went away in the early morning. + Being stationed near Paris, he frequently obtained leave of absence and + came to visit her; and he would remain shut up in her apartments until his + time expired. One evening, my spies brought me word that he was there. I + hastened to the house. My presence did not embarrass her. She received me + as usual, throwing her arms about my neck. I thought that my spies had + deceived me; and I was going to tell her all, when I saw upon the piano a + buckskin glove, such as are worn by soldiers. Not wishing a scene, and not + knowing to what excess my anger might carry me, I rushed out of the place + without saying a word. I have never seen her since. She wrote to me. I did + not open her letters. She attempted to force her way into my presence, but + in vain; my servants had orders that they dared not ignore.” + </p> + <p> + Could this be the Count de Commarin, celebrated for his haughty coldness, + for his reserve so full of disdain, who spoke thus, who opened his whole + life without restrictions, without reserve? And to whom? To a stranger. + </p> + <p> + But he was in one of those desperate states, allied to madness, when all + reflection leaves us, when we must find some outlet for a too powerful + emotion. What mattered to him this secret, so courageously borne for so + many years? He disburdened himself of it, like the poor man, who, weighed + down by a too heavy burden, casts it to the earth without caring where it + falls, nor how much it may tempt the cupidity of the passers-by. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” continued he, “no, nothing, can approach to what I then + endured. My very heartstrings were bound up in that woman. She was like a + part of myself. In separating from her, it seemed to me that I was tearing + away a part of my own flesh. I cannot describe the furious passions her + memory stirred within me. I scorned her and longed for her with equal + vehemence. I hated her, and I loved her. And, to this day, her detestable + image has been ever present to my imagination. Nothing can make me forget + her. I have never consoled myself for her loss. And that is not all, + terrible doubts about Albert occurred to me. Was I really his father? Can + you understand what my punishment was, when I thought to myself, ‘I have + perhaps sacrificed my own son to the child of an utter stranger.’ This + thought made me hate the bastard who called himself Commarin. To my great + affection for him succeeded an unconquerable aversion. How often, in those + days I struggled against an insane desire to kill him! Since then, I have + learned to subdue my aversion; but I have never completely mastered it. + Albert, sir, has been the best of sons. Nevertheless, there has always + been an icy barrier between us, which he was unable to explain. I have + often been on the point of appealing to the tribunals, of avowing all, of + reclaiming my legitimate heir; but regard for my rank has prevented me. I + recoiled before the scandal. I feared the ridicule or disgrace that would + attach to my name; and yet I have not been able to save it from infamy.” + </p> + <p> + The old nobleman remained silent, after pronouncing these words. In a fit + of despair, he buried his face in his hands, and two great tears rolled + silently down his wrinkled cheeks. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, the door of the room opened slightly, and the tall + clerk’s head appeared. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon signed to him to enter, and then addressing M. de Commarin, he + said in a voice rendered more gentle by compassion: “Sir, in the eyes of + heaven, as in the eyes of society, you have committed a great sin; and the + results, as you see, are most disastrous. It is your duty to repair the + evil consequences of your sin as much as lies in your power.” + </p> + <p> + “Such is my intention, sir, and, may I say so? my dearest wish.” + </p> + <p> + “You doubtless understand me,” continued M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied the old man, “yes, I understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be a consolation to you,” added the magistrate, “to learn that M. + Noel Gerdy is worthy in all respects of the high position that you are + about to restore to him. He is a man of great talent, better and worthier + than any one I know. You will have a son worthy of his ancestors. And + finally, no one of your family has disgraced it, sir, for Viscount Albert + is not a Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” rejoined the count quickly, “a Commarin would be dead at this hour; + and blood washes all away.” + </p> + <p> + The old nobleman’s remark set the investigating magistrate thinking + profoundly. + </p> + <p> + “Are you then sure,” said he, “of the viscount’s guilt?” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin gave the magistrate a look of intense surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I only arrived in Paris yesterday evening,” he replied; “and I am + entirely ignorant of all that has occurred. I only know that justice would + not proceed without good cause against a man of Albert’s rank. If you have + arrested him, it is quite evident that you have something more than + suspicion against him,—that you possess positive proofs.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon bit his lips, and, for a moment, could not conceal a feeling of + displeasure. He had neglected his usual prudence, had moved too quickly. + He had believed the count’s mind entirely upset; and now he had aroused + his distrust. All the skill in the world could not repair such an + unfortunate mistake. A witness on his guard is no longer a witness to be + depended upon; he trembles for fear of compromising himself, measures the + weight of the questions, and hesitates as to his answers. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, justice, in the form of a magistrate, is disposed to + doubt everything, to imagine everything, and to suspect everybody. How far + was the count a stranger to the crime at La Jonchere? Although doubting + Albert’s paternity, he would certainly have made great efforts to save + him. His story showed that he thought his honour in peril just as much as + his son. Was he not the man to suppress, by every means, an inconvenient + witness? Thus reasoned M. Daburon. And yet he could not clearly see how + the Count de Commarin’s interests were concerned in the matter. This + uncertainty made him very uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he asked, more sternly, “when were you informed of the discovery of + your secret?” + </p> + <p> + “Last evening, by Albert himself. He spoke to me of this sad story, in a + way which I now seek in vain to explain, unless—” + </p> + <p> + The count stopped short, as if his reason had been struck by the + improbability of the supposition which he had formed. + </p> + <p> + “Unless!—” inquired the magistrate eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said the count, without replying directly, “Albert is a hero, if he + is not guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the magistrate quickly, “have you, then, reason to think him + innocent?” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon’s spite was so plainly visible in the tone of his words that M. + de Commarin could and ought to have seen the semblance of an insult. He + started, evidently offended, and rising, said: “I am now no more a witness + for, than I was a moment ago a witness against. I desire only to render + what assistance I can to justice, in accordance with my duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Confound it,” said M. Daburon to himself, “here I have offended him now! + Is this the way to do things, making mistake after mistake?” + </p> + <p> + “The facts are these,” resumed the count. “Yesterday, after having spoken + to me of these cursed letters, Albert began to set a trap to discover the + truth,—for he still had doubts, Noel Gerdy not having obtained the + complete correspondence. An animated discussion arose between us. He + declared his resolution to give way to Noel. I, on the other hand, was + resolved to compromise the matter, cost what it might. Albert dared to + oppose me. All my efforts to convert him to my views were useless. Vainly + I tried to touch those chords in his breast which I supposed the most + sensitive. He firmly repeated his intention to retire in spite of me, + declaring himself satisfied, if I would consent to allow him a modest + competence. I again attempted to shake him, by showing him that his + marriage, so ardently looked forward to for two years, would be broken off + by this blow. He replied that he felt sure of the constancy of his + betrothed, Mademoiselle d’Arlange.” + </p> + <p> + This name fell like a thunderbolt upon the ears of the investigating + magistrate. He jumped in his chair. Feeling that his face was turning + crimson, he took up a large bundle of papers from his table, and, to hide + his emotion, he raised them to his face, as though trying to decipher an + illegible word. He began to understand the difficult duty with which he + was charged. He knew that he was troubled like a child, having neither his + usual calmness nor foresight. He felt that he might commit the most + serious blunders. Why had he undertaken this investigation? Could he + preserve himself quite free from bias? Did he think his will would be + perfectly impartial? Gladly would he put off to another time the further + examination of the count; but could he? His conscience told him that this + would be another blunder. He renewed, then, the painful examination. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he, “the sentiments expressed by the viscount are very fine, + without doubt; but did he not mention Widow Lerouge?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the count, who appeared suddenly to brighten, as by the + remembrance of some unnoticed circumstances,—“yes, certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “He must have shown you that this woman’s testimony rendered a struggle + with M. Gerdy impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely; sir; and, aside from the question of duty, it was upon that + that he based his refusal to follow my wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be necessary, count, for you to repeat to me very exactly all + that passed between the viscount and yourself. Appeal, then, I beseech + you, to your memory, and try to repeat his own words as nearly as + possible.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin could do so without much difficulty. For some little time, + a salutary reaction had taken place within him. His blood, excited by the + persistence of the examination, moved in its accustomed course. His brain + cleared itself. + </p> + <p> + The scene of the previous evening was admirably presented to his memory, + even to the most insignificant details. The sound of Albert’s voice was + still in his ears; he saw again his expressive gestures. As his story + advanced, alive with clearness and precision, M. Daburon’s conviction + became more confirmed. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate turned against Albert precisely that which the day before + had won the count’s admiration. + </p> + <p> + “What wonderful acting!” thought he. “Tabaret is decidedly possessed of + second sight. To his inconceivable boldness, this young man joins an + infernal cleverness. The genius of crime itself inspires him. It is a + miracle that we are able to unmask him. How well everything was foreseen + and arranged? How marvellously this scene with his father was brought + about, in order to procure doubt in case of discovery? There is not a + sentence which lacks a purpose, which does not tend to ward off suspicion. + What refinement of execution! What excessive care for details! Nothing is + wanting, not even the great devotion of his betrothed. Has he really + informed Claire? Probably I might find out; but I should have to see her + again, to speak to her. Poor child! to love such a man! But his plan is + now fully exposed. His discussion with the count was his plank of safety. + It committed him to nothing, and gained time. He would of course raise + objections, since they would only end by binding him the more firmly in + his father’s heart. He could thus make a merit of his compliance, and + would ask a reward for his weakness. And, when Noel returned to the + charge, he would find himself in presence of the count, who would boldly + deny everything, politely refuse to have anything to do with him and would + possibly have him driven out of the house, as an impostor and forger.” + </p> + <p> + It was a strange coincidence, but yet easily explained, that M. de + Commarin, while telling his story, arrived at the same ideas as the + magistrate, and at conclusions almost identical. In fact, why that + persistence with respect to Claudine? He remembered plainly, that, in his + anger, he had said to his son, “Mankind is not in the habit of doing such + fine actions for its own satisfaction.” That great disinterestedness was + now explained. + </p> + <p> + When the count had ceased speaking, M. Daburon said: “I thank you, sir. I + can say nothing positive; but justice has weighty reasons to believe that, + in the scene which you have just related to me, Viscount Albert played a + part previously arranged.” + </p> + <p> + “And well arranged,” murmured the count; “for he deceived me!” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by the entrance of Noel, who carried under his arm a + black shagreen portfolio, ornamented with his monogram. + </p> + <p> + The advocate bowed to the old gentleman, who in his turn rose and retired + politely to the end of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Noel, in an undertone to the magistrate, “you will find all + the letters in this portfolio. I must ask permission to leave you at once, + as Madame Gerdy’s condition grows hourly more alarming.” + </p> + <p> + Noel had raised his voice a little, in pronouncing these last words; and + the count heard them. He started, and made a great effort to restrain the + question which leaped from his heart to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “You must however give me a moment, my dear sir,” replied the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon then quitted his chair, and, taking the advocate by the hand, + led him to the count. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Commarin,” said he, “I have the honour of presenting to you M. Noel + Gerdy.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin was probably expecting some scene of this kind: for not a + muscle of his face moved: he remained perfectly calm. Noel, on his side, + was like a man who had received a blow on the head; he staggered, and was + obliged to seek support from the back of a chair. + </p> + <p> + Then these two, father and son, stood face to face, apparently deep in + thought, but in reality examining one another with mutual distrust, each + striving to gather something of the other’s thoughts. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had augured better results from this meeting, which he had been + awaiting ever since the count’s arrival. He had expected that this abrupt + presentation would bring about an intensely pathetic scene, which would + not give his two witnesses time for reflection. The count would open his + arms: Noel would throw himself into them; and this reconciliation would + only await the sanction of the tribunals, to be complete. + </p> + <p> + The coldness of the one, the embarrassment of the other, disconcerted his + plans. He therefore thought it necessary to intervene. + </p> + <p> + “Count,” said he reproachfully, “remember that it was only a few minutes + ago that you admitted that M. Gerdy was your legitimate son.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin made no reply; to judge from his lack of emotion, he could + not have heard. + </p> + <p> + So Noel, summoning all his courage, ventured to speak first,—“Sir,” + he stammered, “I entertain no—” + </p> + <p> + “You may call me father,” interrupted the haughty old man, in a tone which + was by no means affectionate. Then addressing the magistrate he said: “Can + I be of any further use to you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Only to hear your evidence read over,” replied M. Daburon, “and to sign + it if you find everything correct. You can proceed, Constant,” he added. + </p> + <p> + The tall clerk turned half round on his chair and commenced. He had a + peculiar way of jabbering over what he had scrawled. He read very quickly, + all at a stretch, without paying the least attention to either full stops + or commas, questions or replies; but went on reading as long as his breath + lasted. When he could go on no longer, he took a breath, and then + continued as before. Unconsciously, he reminded one of a diver, who every + now and then raises his head above water, obtains a supply of air, and + disappears again. Noel was the only one to listen attentively to the + reading, which to unpractised ears was unintelligible. It apprised him of + many things which it was important for him to know. At last Constant + pronounced the words, “In testimony whereof,” etc., which end all official + reports in France. + </p> + <p> + He handed the pen to the count, who signed without hesitation. The old + nobleman then turned towards Noel. + </p> + <p> + “I am not very strong,” he said; “you must therefore, my son,” emphasizing + the word, “help your father to his carriage.” + </p> + <p> + The young advocate advanced eagerly. His face brightened, as he passed the + count’s arm through his own. When they were gone, M. Daburon could not + resist a impulse of curiosity. He hastened to the door, which he opened + slightly; and, keeping his body in the background that he might not + himself be seen, he looked out into the passage. The count and Noel had + not yet reached the end. They were going slowly. The count seemed to drag + heavily and painfully along; the advocate took short steps, bending + slightly towards his father; and all his movements were marked with the + greatest solicitude. The magistrate remained watching them until they + passed out of sight at the end of the gallery. Then he returned to his + seat, heaving a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” thought he, “I have helped to make one person happy. The day + will not be entirely a bad one.” + </p> + <p> + But he had no time to give way to his thoughts, the hours flew by so + quickly. He wished to interrogate Albert as soon as possible; and he had + still to receive the evidence of several of the count’s servants, and the + report of the commissary of police charged with the arrest. The servants + who had been waiting their turn a long while were now brought in without + delay, and examined separately. They had but little information to give; + but the testimony of each was so to say a fresh accusation. It was easy to + see that all believed their master guilty. + </p> + <p> + Albert’s conduct since the beginning of the fatal week, his least words, + his most insignificant movements, were reported, commented upon, and + explained. + </p> + <p> + The man who lives in the midst of thirty servants is like an insect in a + glass box under the magnifying glass of a naturalist. Not one of his acts + escapes their notice: he can scarcely have a secret of his own; and, if + they cannot divine what it is, they at least know that he has one. From + morn till night he is the point of observation for thirty pairs of eyes, + interested in studying the slightest changes in his countenance. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate obtained, therefore, an abundance of those frivolous + details which seem nothing at first; but the slightest of which may, at + the trial, become a question of life or death. + </p> + <p> + By combining these depositions, reconciling them and putting them in + order, M. Daburon was able to follow his prisoner hour by hour from the + Sunday morning. + </p> + <p> + Directly Noel left, the viscount gave orders that all visitors should be + informed that he had gone into the country. From that moment, the whole + household perceived that something had gone wrong with him, that he was + very much annoyed, or very unwell. + </p> + <p> + He did not leave his study on that day, but had his dinner brought up to + him. He ate very little,—only some soup, and a very thin fillet of + sole with white wine. While eating, he said to M. Contois, the butler: + “Remind the cook to spice the sauce a little more, in future,” and then + added in a low tone, “Ah! to what purpose?” In the evening he dismissed + his servants from all duties, saying, “Go, and amuse yourselves.” He + expressly warned them not to disturb him unless he rang. + </p> + <p> + On the Monday, he did not get up until noon, although usually an early + riser. He complained of a violent headache, and of feeling sick. He took, + however a cup of tea. He ordered his brougham, but almost immediately + countermanded the order. Lubin, his valet, heard him say: “I am hesitating + too much;” and a few moments later, “I must make up my mind.” Shortly + afterwards he began writing. + </p> + <p> + He then gave Lubin a letter to carry to Mademoiselle Claire d’Arlange, + with orders to deliver it only to herself or to Mademoiselle Schmidt, the + governess. A second letter, containing two thousand franc notes, was + intrusted to Joseph, to be taken to the viscount’s club. Joseph no longer + remembered the name of the person to whom the letter was addressed; but it + was not a person of title. That evening, Albert only took a little soup, + and remained shut up in his room. + </p> + <p> + He rose early on the Tuesday. He wandered about the house, as though he + were in great trouble, or impatiently awaiting something which did not + arrive. On his going into the garden, the gardener asked his advice + concerning a lawn. He replied, “You had better consult the count upon his + return.” + </p> + <p> + He did not breakfast any more than the day before. About one o’clock, he + went down to stables, and caressed, with an air of sadness, his favorite + mare, Norma. Stroking her neck, he said, “Poor creature! poor old girl!” + </p> + <p> + At three o’clock, a messenger arrived with a letter. The viscount took it, + and opened it hastily. He was then near the flower-garden. Two footmen + distinctly heard him say, “She cannot resist.” He returned to the house, + and burnt the letter in the large stove in the hall. + </p> + <p> + As he was sitting down to dinner, at six o’clock, two of his friends, M. + de Courtivois and the Marquis de Chouze, insisted upon seeing him, in + spite of all orders. They would not be refused. These gentlemen were + anxious for him to join them in some pleasure party, but he declined, + saying that he had a very important appointment. + </p> + <p> + At dinner he ate a little more than on the previous days. He even asked + the butler for a bottle of Chateau-Lafitte, the whole of which he drank + himself. While taking his coffee, he smoked a cigar in the dining room, + contrary to the rules of the house. At half-past seven, according to + Joseph and two footmen, or at eight according to the Swiss porter and + Lubin, the viscount went out on foot, taking an umbrella with him. He + returned home at two o’clock in the morning, and at once dismissed his + valet, who had waited up for him. + </p> + <p> + On entering the viscount’s room on the Wednesday, the valet was struck + with the condition in which he found his master’s clothes. They were wet, + and stained with mud; the trousers were torn. He ventured to make a remark + about them. Albert replied, in a furious manner, “Throw the old things in + a corner, ready to be given away.” + </p> + <p> + He appeared to be much better all that day. He breakfasted with a good + appetite; and the butler noticed that he was in excellent spirits. He + passed the afternoon in the library, and burnt a pile of papers. + </p> + <p> + On the Thursday, he again seemed very unwell. He was scarcely able to go + and meet the count. That evening, after his interview with his father, he + went to his room looking extremely ill. Lubin wanted to run for the + doctor: he forbade him to do so, or to mention to any one that he was not + well. + </p> + <p> + Such was the substance of twenty large pages, which the tall clerk had + covered with writing, without once turning his head to look at the + witnesses who passed by in their fine livery. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon managed to obtain this evidence in less than two hours. Though + well aware of the importance of their testimony, all these servants were + very voluble. The difficulty was, to stop them when they had once started. + From all they said, it appeared that Albert was a very good master,—easily + served, kind and polite to his servants. Wonderful to relate! there were + found only three among them who did not appear perfectly delighted at the + misfortune which had befallen the family. Two were greatly distressed. M. + Lubin, although he had been an object of especial kindness, was not one of + these. + </p> + <p> + The turn of the commissary of police had now come. In a few words, he gave + an account of the arrest, already described by old Tabaret. He did not + forget to mention the one word “Lost,” which had escaped Albert; to his + mind, it was a confession. He then delivered all the articles seized in + the Viscount de Commarin’s apartments. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate carefully examined these things, and compared them closely + with the scraps of evidence gathered at La Jonchere. He soon appeared, + more than ever, satisfied with the course he had taken. + </p> + <p> + He then placed all these material proofs upon his table, and covered them + over with three or four large sheets of paper. + </p> + <p> + The day was far advanced; and M. Daburon had no more than sufficient time + to examine the prisoner before night. He now remembered that he had tasted + nothing since morning; and he sent hastily for a bottle of wine and some + biscuits. It was not strength, however, that the magistrate needed; it was + courage. All the while that he was eating and drinking, his thoughts kept + repeating this strange sentence, “I am about to appear before the Viscount + de Commarin.” At any other time, he would have laughed at the absurdity of + the idea, but, at this moment, it seemed to him like the will of + Providence. + </p> + <p> + “So be it,” said he to himself; “this is my punishment.” + </p> + <p> + And immediately he gave the necessary orders for Viscount Albert to be + brought before him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. + </h2> + <p> + Albert scarcely noticed his removal from home to the seclusion of the + prison. Snatched away from his painful thoughts by the harsh voice of the + commissary, saying. “In the name of the law I arrest you,” his mind, + completely upset, was a long time in recovering its equilibrium, + Everything that followed appeared to him to float indistinctly in a thick + mist, like those dream-scenes represented on the stage behind a quadruple + curtain of gauze. + </p> + <p> + To the questions put to him he replied, without knowing what he said. Two + police agents took hold of his arms, and helped him down the stairs. He + could not have walked down alone. His limbs, which bent beneath him, + refused their support. The only thing he understood of all that was said + around him was that the count had been struck with apoplexy; but even that + he soon forgot. + </p> + <p> + They lifted him into the cab, which was waiting in the court-yard at the + foot of the steps, rather ashamed at finding itself in such a place; and + they placed him on the back seat. Two police agents installed themselves + in front of him while a third mounted the box by the side of the driver. + During the drive, he did not at all realize his situation. He lay + perfectly motionless in the dirty, greasy vehicle. His body, which + followed every jolt, scarcely allayed by the worn-out springs, rolled from + one side to the other and his head oscillated on his shoulders, as if the + muscles of his neck were broken. He thought of Widow Lerouge. He recalled her + as she was when he went with his father to La Jonchere. It was in the + spring-time; and the hawthorn blossoms scented the air. The old woman, in + a white cap, stood at her garden gate: she spoke beseechingly. The count + looked sternly at her as he listened, then, taking some gold from his + purse, he gave it to her. + </p> + <p> + On arriving at their destination they lifted him out of the cab, the same + way as they had lifted him in at starting. + </p> + <p> + During the formality of entering his name in the jail-book in the dingy, + stinking record office, and whilst replying mechanically to everything, he + gave himself up with delight to recollections of Claire. He went back to + the time of the early days of their love, when he doubted whether he would + ever have the happiness of being loved by her in return; when they used to + meet at Mademoiselle Goello’s. + </p> + <p> + This old maid had a house on the left bank of the Seine furnished in the + most eccentric manner. On all the dining-room furniture, and on the + mantel-piece, were placed a dozen or fifteen stuffed dogs, of various + breeds, which together or successively had helped to cheer the maiden’s + lonely hours. She loved to relate stories of these pets whose affection + had never failed her. Some were grotesque, others horrible. One + especially, outrageously stuffed seemed ready to burst. How many times he + and Claire had laughed at it until the tears came! + </p> + <p> + The officials next began to search him. This crowning humiliation, these + rough hands passing all over his body brought him somewhat to himself, and + roused his anger. But it was already over; and they at once dragged him + along the dark corridors, over the filthy, slippery floor. They opened a + door, and pushed him into a small cell. He then heard them lock and bolt + the door. + </p> + <p> + He was a prisoner, and, in accordance with special orders, in solitary + confinement. He immediately felt a marked sensation of comfort. He was + alone. + </p> + <p> + No more stifled whispers, harsh voices, implacable questions, sounded in + his ears. A profound silence reigned around. It seemed to him that he had + forever escaped from society; and he rejoiced at it. He would have felt + relieved, had this even been the silence of the grave. His body, as well + as his mind, was weighed down with weariness. He wanted to sit down, when + he perceived a small bed, to the right, in front of the grated window, + which let in the little light there was. This bed was as welcome to him as + a plank would be to a drowning man. He threw himself upon it, and lay down + with delight; but he felt cold, so he unfolded the coarse woollen + coverlid, and wrapping it about him, was soon sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + In the corridor, two detectives, one still young, the other rather old, + applied alternately their eyes and ears to the peep-hole in the door, + watching every movement of the prisoner; “What a fellow he is!” murmured + the younger officer. “If a man has no more nerve than that, he ought to + remain honest. He won’t care much about his looks the morning of his + execution, eh, M. Balan?” + </p> + <p> + “That depends,” replied the other. “We must wait and see. Lecoq told me + that he was a terrible rascal.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! look he arranges his bed, and lies down. Can he be going to sleep? + That’s good! It’s the first time I ever saw such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “It is because, comrade, you have only had dealings with the smaller + rogues. All rascals of position—and I have had to do with more than + one—are this sort. At the moment of arrest, they are incapable of + anything; their heart fails them; but they recover themselves next day.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, one would say he has gone to sleep! What a joke!” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, my friend,” added the old man, pointedly, “that nothing is + more natural. I am sure that, since the blow was struck, this young fellow + has hardly lived: his body has been all on fire. Now he knows that his + secret is out; and that quiets him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! M. Balan, you are joking: you say that that quiets him?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. There is no greater punishment, remember, than anxiety; + everything is preferable. If you only possessed an income of ten thousand + francs, I would show you a way to prove this. I would tell you to go to + Hamburg and risk your entire fortune on one chance at rouge et noir. You + could relate to me, afterwards, what your feelings were while the ball was + rolling. It is, my boy, as though your brain was being torn with pincers, + as though molten lead was being poured into your bones, in place of + marrow. This anxiety is so strong, that one feels relieved, one breathes + again, even when one has lost. It is ruin; but then the anxiety is over.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, M. Balan, one would think that you yourself had had just such an + experience.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” sighed the old detective, “it is to my love for the queen of + spades, my unhappy love, that you owe the honour of looking through this + peephole in my company. But this fellow will sleep for a couple of hours, + do not lose sight of him; I am going to smoke a cigarette in the + courtyard.” + </p> + <p> + Albert slept four hours. On awaking his head seemed clearer than it had + been ever since his interview with Noel. It was a terrible moment for him, + when, for the first time he became fully aware of his situation. + </p> + <p> + “Now, indeed,” said he, “I require all my courage.” + </p> + <p> + He longed to see some one, to speak, to be questioned, to explain. He felt + a desire to call out. + </p> + <p> + “But what good would that be?” he asked himself. “Some one will be coming + soon.” He looked for his watch, to see what time it was, and found that + they had taken it away. He felt this deeply; they were treating him like + the most abandoned of villains. He felt in his pockets: they had all been + carefully emptied. He thought now of his personal appearance; and, getting + up, he repaired as much as possible the disorder of his toilet. He put his + clothes in order, and dusted them; he straightened his collar, and re-tied + his cravat. Then pouring a little water on his handkerchief, he passed it + over his face, bathing his eyes which were greatly inflamed. Then he + endeavoured to smooth his beard and hair. He had no idea that four lynx + eyes were fixed upon him all the while. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” murmured the young detective: “see how our cock sticks up his + comb, and smooths his feathers! + </p> + <p> + “I told you,” put in Balan, “that he was only staggered. Hush! he is + speaking, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + But they neither surprised one of those disordered gestures nor one of + those incoherent speeches, which almost always escape from the feeble when + excited by fear, or from the imprudent ones who believe in the discretion + of their cells. One word alone, “honour,” reached the ears of the two + spies. + </p> + <p> + “These rascals of rank,” grumbled Balan, “always have this word in their + mouths. That which they most fear is the opinion of some dozen friends, + and several thousand strangers, who read the ‘Gazette des Tribunaux.’ They + only think of their own heads later on.” + </p> + <p> + When the gendarmes came to conduct Albert before the investigating + magistrate, they found him seated on the side of his bed, his feet pressed + upon the iron rail, his elbows on his knees, and his head buried in his + hands. He rose, as they entered, and took a few steps towards them; but + his throat was so dry that he was scarcely able to speak. He asked for a + moment, and, turning towards the little table, he filled and drank two + large glassfuls of water in succession. + </p> + <p> + “I am ready!” he then said. And, with a firm step, he followed the + gendarmes along the passage which led to the Palais de Justice. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was just then in great anguish. He walked furiously up and down + his office, awaiting the prisoner. Again, and for the twentieth time since + morning, he regretted having engaged in the business. + </p> + <p> + “Curse this absurd point of honour, which I have obeyed,” he inwardly + exclaimed. “I have in vain attempted to reassure myself by the aid of + sophisms. I was wrong in not withdrawing. Nothing in the world can change + my feelings towards this young man. I hate him. I am his judge; and it is + no less true, that at one time I longed to assassinate him. I faced him + with a revolver in my hand: why did I not present it and fire? Do I know + why? What power held my finger, when an almost insensible pressure would + have sufficed to kill him? I cannot say. Why is not he the judge, I the + assassin? If the intention was as punishable as the deed, I ought to be + guillotined. And it is under such conditions that I dare examine him!” + </p> + <p> + Passing before the door he heard the heavy footsteps of the gendarmes in + the passage. + </p> + <p> + “It is he,” he said aloud and then hastily seated himself at his table, + bending over his portfolios, as though striving to hide himself. If the + tall clerk had used his eyes, he would have noticed the singular spectacle + of an investigating magistrate more agitated than the prisoner he was + about to examine. But he was blind to all around him; and, at this moment, + he was only aware of an error of fifteen centimes, which had slipped into + his accounts, and which he was unable to rectify. + </p> + <p> + Albert entered the magistrate’s office with his head erect. His features + bore traces of great fatigue and of sleepless nights. He was very pale; + but his eyes were clear and sparkling. + </p> + <p> + The usual questions which open such examinations gave M. Daburon an + opportunity to recover himself. Fortunately, he had found time in the + morning to prepare a plan, which he had now simply to follow. + </p> + <p> + “You are aware, sir,” he commenced in a tone of perfect politeness, “that + you have no right to the name you bear?” + </p> + <p> + “I know, sir,” replied Albert, “that I am the natural son of M. de + Commarin. I know further that my father would be unable to recognise me, + even if he wished to, since I was born during his married life.” + </p> + <p> + “What were your feelings upon learning this?” + </p> + <p> + “I should speak falsely, sir, if I said I did not feel very bitterly. When + one is in the high position I occupied, the fall is terrible. However, I + never for a moment entertained the thought of contesting M. Noel Gerdy’s + rights. I always purposed, and still purpose, to yield. I have so informed + M. de Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon expected just such a reply; and it only strengthened his + suspicions. Did it not enter into the line of defence which he had + foreseen? It was now his duty to seek some way of demolishing this + defence, in which the prisoner evidently meant to shut himself up like a + tortoise in its shell. + </p> + <p> + “You could not oppose M. Gerdy,” continued the magistrate, “with any + chance of success. You had, indeed on your side, the count, and your + mother; but M. Gerdy was in possession of evidence that was certain to win + his cause, that of Widow Lerouge.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never doubted that, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” continued the magistrate, seeking to hide the look which he + fastened upon Albert, “justice supposes that, to do away with the only + existing proof, you have assassinated Widow Lerouge.” + </p> + <p> + This terrible accusation, terribly emphasised, caused no change in + Albert’s features. He preserved the same firm bearing, without bravado. + </p> + <p> + “Before God,” he answered, “and by all that is most sacred on earth, I + swear to you, sir, that I am innocent! I am at this moment a close + prisoner, without communication with the outer world, reduced consequently + to the most absolute helplessness. It is through your probity that I hope + to demonstrate my innocence.” + </p> + <p> + “What an actor!” thought the magistrate. “Can crime be so strong as this?” + </p> + <p> + He glanced over his papers, reading certain passages of the preceding + depositions, turning down the corners of certain pages which contained + important information. Then suddenly he resumed, “When you were arrested, + you cried out, ‘I am lost,’ what did you mean by that?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” replied Albert, “I remember having uttered those words. When I knew + of what crime I was accused, I was overwhelmed with consternation. My mind + was, as it were, enlightened by a glimpse of the future. In a moment, I + perceived all the horror of my situation. I understood the weight of the + accusation, its probability, and the difficulties I should have in + defending myself. A voice cried out to me, ‘Who was most interested in + Claudine’s death?’ And the knowledge of my imminent peril forced from me + the exclamation you speak of.” + </p> + <p> + His explanation was more than plausible, was possible, and even likely. It + had the advantage, too, of anticipating the axiom, “Search out the one + whom the crime will benefit!” Tabaret had spoken truly, when he said that + they would not easily make the prisoner confess. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon admired Albert’s presence of mind, and the resources of his + perverse imagination. + </p> + <p> + “You do indeed,” continued the magistrate, “appear to have had the + greatest interest in this death. Moreover, I will inform you that robbery + was not the object of the crime. The things thrown into the Seine have + been recovered. We know, also, that all the widow’s papers were burnt. + Could they compromise any one but yourself? If you know of any one, + speak.” + </p> + <p> + “What can I answer, sir? Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you often gone to see this woman?” + </p> + <p> + “Three or four times with my father.” + </p> + <p> + “One of your coachmen pretends to have driven you there at least ten + times.” + </p> + <p> + “The man is mistaken. But what matters the number of visits?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you recollect the arrangements of the rooms? Can you describe them?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, sir: there were two. Claudine slept in the back room.” + </p> + <p> + “You were in no way a stranger to Widow Lerouge. If you had knocked one + evening at her window-shutter, do you think she would have let you in?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir, and eagerly.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been unwell these last few days?” + </p> + <p> + “Very unwell, to say the least, sir. My body bent under the weight of a + burden too great for my strength. It was not, however, for want of + courage.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you forbid your valet, Lubin, to call in the doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir, how could the doctor cure my disease? All his science could not + make me the legitimate son of the Count de Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + “Some very singular remarks made by you were overheard. You seemed to be + no longer interested in anything concerning your home. You destroyed a + large number of papers and letters.” + </p> + <p> + “I had decided to leave the count, sir. My resolution explains my + conduct.” + </p> + <p> + Albert replied promptly to the magistrate’s questions, without the least + embarrassment, and in a confident tone. His voice, which was very pleasant + to the ear, did not tremble. It concealed no emotion; it retained its pure + and vibrating sound. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon deemed it wise to suspend the examination for a short time. + With so cunning an adversary, he was evidently pursuing a false course. To + proceed in detail was folly, he neither intimidated the prisoner, nor made + him break through his reserve. It was necessary to take him unawares. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” resumed the magistrate, abruptly, “tell me exactly how you passed + your time last Tuesday evening, from six o’clock until midnight?” + </p> + <p> + For the first time, Albert seemed disconcerted. His glance, which had, + till then, been fixed upon the magistrate, wavered. + </p> + <p> + “During Tuesday evening,” he stammered, repeating the phrase to gain time. + </p> + <p> + “I have him,” thought the magistrate, starting with joy, and then added + aloud, “yes, from six o’clock until midnight.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, sir,” answered Albert, “it will be difficult for me to + satisfy you. I haven’t a very good memory.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t tell me that!” interrupted the magistrate. “If I had asked what + you were doing three months ago, on a certain evening, and at a certain + hour, I could understand your hesitation; but this is about Tuesday, and + it is now Friday. Moreover, this day, so close, was the last of the + carnival; it was Shrove Tuesday. That circumstance ought to help your + memory.” + </p> + <p> + “That evening, I went out walking,” murmured Albert. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” continued the magistrate, “where did you dine?” + </p> + <p> + “At home, as usual.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not as usual. At the end of your meal, you asked for a bottle of + Bordeaux, of which you drank the whole. You doubtless had need of some + extra excitement for your subsequent plans.” + </p> + <p> + “I had no plans,” replied the prisoner with very evident uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + “You make a mistake. Two friends came to seek you. You replied to them, + before sitting down to dinner, that you had a very important engagement to + keep.” + </p> + <p> + “That was only a polite way of getting rid of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you not understand, sir? I was resigned, but not comforted. I was + learning to get accustomed to the terrible blow. Would not one seek + solitude in the great crisis of one’s life?” + </p> + <p> + “The prosecution pretends that you wished to be left alone, that you might + go to La Jonchere. During the day, you said, ‘She can not resist me.’ Of + whom were you speaking?” + </p> + <p> + “Of some one to whom I had written the evening before, and who had replied + to me. I spoke the words, with her letter still in my hands.” + </p> + <p> + “This letter was, then, from a woman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you done with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I have burnt it.” + </p> + <p> + “This precaution leads one to suppose that you considered the letter + compromising.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, sir; it treated entirely of private matters.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was sure that this letter came from Mademoiselle d’Arlange. + Should he nevertheless ask the question, and again hear pronounced the + name of Claire, which always aroused such painful emotions within him? He + ventured to do so, leaning over his papers, so that the prisoner could not + detect his emotion. + </p> + <p> + “From whom did this letter come?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “From one whom I can not name.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said the magistrate severely, “I will not conceal from you that + your position is greatly compromised. Do not aggravate it by this culpable + reticence. You are here to tell everything, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “My own affairs, yes, not those of others.” + </p> + <p> + Albert gave this last answer in a dry tone. He was giddy, flurried, + exasperated, by the prying and irritating mode of the examination, which + scarcely gave him time to breathe. The magistrate’s questions fell upon + him more thickly than the blows of the blacksmith’s hammer upon the + red-hot iron which he is anxious to beat into shape before it cools. + </p> + <p> + The apparent rebellion of his prisoner troubled M. Daburon a great deal. + He was further extremely surprised to find the discernment of the old + detective at fault; just as though Tabaret were infallible. Tabaret had + predicted an unexceptionable <i>alibi</i>; and this <i>alibi</i> was not + forthcoming. Why? Had this subtle villain something better than that? What + artful defence had he to fall back upon? Doubtless he kept in reserve some + unforeseen stroke, perhaps irresistible. + </p> + <p> + “Gently,” thought the magistrate. “I have not got him yet.” Then he + quickly added aloud: “Continue. After dinner what did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I went out for a walk.” + </p> + <p> + “Not immediately. The bottle emptied, you smoked a cigar in the + dining-room, which was so unusual as to be noticed. What kind of cigars do + you usually smoke?” + </p> + <p> + “Trabucos.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not use a cigar-holder, to keep your lips from contact with the + tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied Albert, much surprised at this series of questions. + </p> + <p> + “At what time did you go out?” + </p> + <p> + “About eight o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you carry an umbrella?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you go?” + </p> + <p> + “I walked about.” + </p> + <p> + “Alone, without any object, all the evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Now trace out your wanderings for me very carefully.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir, that is very difficult to do! I went out simply to walk about, + for the sake of exercise, to drive away the torpor which had depressed me + for three days. I don’t know whether you can picture to yourself my exact + condition. I was half out of my mind. I walked about at hazard along the + quays. I wandered through the streets,—” + </p> + <p> + “All that is very improbable,” interrupted the magistrate. M. Daburon, + however, knew that it was at least possible. Had not he himself, one + night, in a similar condition, traversed all Paris? What reply could he + have made, had some one asked him next morning where he had been, except + that he had not paid attention, and did not know? But he had forgotten + this; and his previous hesitations, too, had all vanished. + </p> + <p> + As the inquiry advanced, the fever of investigation took possession of + him. He enjoyed the emotions of the struggle, his passion for his calling + became stronger than ever. + </p> + <p> + He was again an investigating magistrate, like the fencing master, who, + once practising with his dearest friend, became excited by the clash of + the weapons, and, forgetting himself, killed him. + </p> + <p> + “So,” resumed M. Daburon, “you met absolutely no one who can affirm that + he saw you? You did not speak to a living soul? You entered no place, not + even a cafe or a theatre, or a tobacconist’s to light one of your + favourite trabucos?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is a great misfortune for you, yes, a very great misfortune; for + I must inform you, that it was precisely during this Tuesday evening, + between eight o’clock and midnight, that Widow Lerouge was assassinated. + Justice can point out the exact hour. Again, sir, in your own interest, I + recommend you to reflect,—to make a strong appeal to your memory.” + </p> + <p> + This pointing out of the exact day and hour of the murder seemed to + astound Albert. He raised his hand to his forehead with a despairing + gesture. However he replied in a calm voice,—“I am very unfortunate, + sir: but I can recollect nothing.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon’s surprise was immense. What, not an <i>alibi</i>? Nothing? + This could be no snare nor system of defence. Was, then, this man as + cunning as he had imagined? Doubtless. Only he had been taken unawares. He + had never imagined it possible for the accusation to fall upon him; and it + was almost by a miracle it had done so. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate slowly raised, one by one, the large pieces of paper that + covered the articles seized in Albert’s rooms. + </p> + <p> + “We will pass,” he continued, “to the examination of the charges which + weigh against you. Will you please come nearer? Do you recognize these + articles as belonging to yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, they are all mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, take this foil. Who broke it?” + </p> + <p> + “I, sir, in fencing with M. de Courtivois, who can bear witness to it.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be heard. Where is the broken end?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. You must ask Lubin, my valet.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. He declares that he has hunted for it, and cannot find it. I + must tell you that the victim received the fatal blow from the sharpened + end of a broken foil. This piece of stuff, on which the assassin wiped his + weapon, is a proof of what I state.” + </p> + <p> + “I beseech you, sir, to order a most minute search to be made. It is + impossible that the other half of the foil is not to be found.” + </p> + <p> + “Orders shall be given to that effect. Look, here is the exact imprint of + the murderer’s foot traced on this sheet of paper. I will place one of + your boots upon it and the sole, as you perceive, fits the tracing with + the utmost precision. This plaster was poured into the hollow left by the + heel: you observe that it is, in all respects, similar in shape to the + heels of your own boots. I perceive, too, the mark of a peg, which appears + in both.” + </p> + <p> + Albert followed with marked anxiety every movement of the magistrate. It + was plain that he was struggling against a growing terror. Was he attacked + by that fright which overpowers the guilty when they see themselves on the + point of being confounded. To all the magistrate’s remarks, he answered in + a low voice,—“It is true—perfectly true.” + </p> + <p> + “That is so,” continued M. Daburon; “yet listen further, before attempting + to defend yourself. The criminal had an umbrella. The end of this umbrella + sank in the clayey soil; the round of wood which is placed at the end of + the silk, was found moulded in the clay. Look at this clod of clay, raised + with the utmost care; and now look at your umbrella. Compare the rounds. + Are they alike, or not?” + </p> + <p> + “These things, sir,” attempted Albert, “are manufactured in large + quantities.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we will pass over that proof. Look at this cigar end, found on the + scene of the crime, and tell me of what brand it is, and how it was + smoked.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a trabucos, and was smoked in a cigar-holder.” + </p> + <p> + “Like these?” persisted the magistrate, pointing to the cigars and the + amber and meerschaum-holders found in the viscount’s library. + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” murmured Albert, “it is a fatality—a strange coincidence.” + </p> + <p> + “Patience, that is nothing, as yet. The assassin wore gloves. The victim, + in the death struggle, seized his hands; and some pieces of kid remained + in her nails. These have been preserved, and are here. They are of a + lavender colour, are they not? Now, here are the gloves which you wore on + Tuesday. They, too, are lavender, and they are frayed. Compare these + pieces of kid with your own gloves. Do they not correspond? Are they not + of the same colour, the same skin?” + </p> + <p> + It was useless to deny it, equivocate, or seek subterfuges. The evidence + was there, and it was irrefutable. While appearing to occupy himself + solely with the objects lying upon his table, M. Daburon did not lose + sight of the prisoner. Albert was terrified. A cold perspiration bathed + his temples, and glided drop by drop down his cheeks. His hands trembled + so much that they were of no use to him. In a chilling voice he kept + repeating: “It is horrible, horrible!” + </p> + <p> + “Finally,” pursued the inexorable magistrate, “here are the trousers you + wore on the evening of the murder. It is plain that not long ago they were + very wet; and, besides the mud on them, there are traces of earth. Besides + that they are torn at the knees. We will admit, for the moment that you + might not remember where you went on that evening; but who would believe + that you do not know when you tore your trousers and how you frayed your + gloves?” + </p> + <p> + What courage could resist such assaults? Albert’s firmness and energy were + at an end. His brain whirled. He fell heavily into a chair, exclaiming,—“It + is enough to drive me mad!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you admit,” insisted the magistrate, whose gaze had become firmly + fixed upon the prisoner, “do you admit that Widow Lerouge could only have + been stabbed by you?” + </p> + <p> + “I admit,” protested Albert, “that I am the victim of one of those + terrible fatalities which make men doubt the evidence of their reason. I + am innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Then tell me where you passed Tuesday evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir!” cried the prisoner, “I should have to—” But, restraining + himself, he added in a faint voice, “I have made the only answer that I + can make.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon rose, having now reached his grand stroke. + </p> + <p> + “It is, then, my duty,” said he, with a shade of irony, “to supply your + failure of memory. I am going to remind you of where you went and what you + did. On Tuesday evening at eight o’clock, after having obtained from the + wine you drank, the dreadful energy you needed, you left your home. At + thirty-five minutes past eight, you took the train at the St. Lazare + station. At nine o’clock, you alighted at the station at Rueil.” + </p> + <p> + And, not disdaining to employ Tabaret’s ideas, the investigating + magistrate repeated nearly word for word the tirade improvised the night + before by the amateur detective. + </p> + <p> + He had every reason, while speaking, to admire the old fellow’s + penetration. In all his life, his eloquence had never produced so striking + an effect. Every sentence, every word, told. The prisoner’s assurance, + already shaken, fell little by little, just like the outer coating of a + wall when riddled with bullets. + </p> + <p> + Albert was, as the magistrate perceived, like a man, who, rolling to the + bottom of a precipice, sees every branch and every projecture which might + retard his fall fail him, and who feels a new and more painful bruise each + time his body comes in contact with them. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” concluded the investigating magistrate, “listen to good advice: + do not persist in a system of denying, impossible to sustain. Give in. + Justice, rest assured, is ignorant of nothing which it is important to + know. Believe me; seek to deserve the indulgence of your judges, confess + your guilt.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon did not believe that his prisoner would still persist in + asserting his innocence. He imagined he would be overwhelmed and + confounded, that he would throw himself at his feet, begging for mercy. + But he was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + Albert, in spite of his great prostration, found, in one last effort of + his will, sufficient strength to recover himself and again protest,—“You + are right, sir,” he said in a sad, but firm voice; “everything seems to + prove me guilty. In your place, I should have spoken as you have done; yet + all the same, I swear to you that I am innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Come now, do you really—” began the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “I am innocent,” interrupted Albert; “and I repeat it, without the least + hope of changing in any way your conviction. Yes, everything speaks + against me, everything, even my own bearing before you. It is true, my + courage has been shaken by these incredible, miraculous, overwhelming + coincidences. I am overcome, because I feel the impossibility of proving + my innocence. But I do not despair. My honour and my life are in the hands + of God. At this very hour when to you I appear lost,—for I in no way + deceive myself, sir,—I do not despair of a complete justification. I + await confidently.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but what I say, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “So you persist in denying your guilt?” + </p> + <p> + “I am innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is folly—” + </p> + <p> + “I am innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said M. Daburon; “that is enough for to-day. You will hear + the official report of your examination read, and will then be taken back + to solitary confinement. I exhort you to reflect. Night will perhaps bring + on a better feeling; if you wish at any time to speak to me, send word, + and I will come to you. I will give orders to that effect. You may read + now, Constant.” + </p> + <p> + When Albert had departed under the escort of the gendarmes, the magistrate + muttered in a low tone, “There’s an obstinate fellow for you.” He + certainly no longer entertained the shadow of a doubt. To him, Albert was + as surely the murderer as if he had admitted his guilt Even if he should + persist in his system of denial to the end of the investigation, it was + impossible, that, with the proofs already in the possession of the police, + a true bill should not be found against him. He was therefore certain of + being committed for trial at the assizes. It was a hundred to one, that + the jury would bring in a verdict of guilty. + </p> + <p> + Left to himself, however, M. Daburon did not experience that intense + satisfaction, mixed with vanity, which he ordinarily felt after he had + successfully conducted an examination, and had succeeded in getting his + prisoner into the same position as Albert. Something disturbed and shocked + him. At the bottom of his heart, he felt ill at ease. He had triumphed; + but his victory gave him only uneasiness, pain, and vexation. A reflection + so simple that he could hardly understand why it had not occurred to him + at first, increased his discontent, and made him angry with himself. + </p> + <p> + “Something told me,” he muttered, “that I was wrong to undertake this + business. I am punished for not having obeyed that inner voice. I ought to + have declined to proceed with the investigation. The Viscount de Commarin, + was, all the same, certain to be arrested, imprisoned, examined, + confounded, tried, and probably condemned. Then, being in no way connected + with the trial, I could have reappeared before Claire. Her grief will be + great. As her friend, I could have soothed her, mingled my tears with + hers, calmed her regrets. With time, she might have been consoled, and + perhaps have forgotten him. She could not have helped feeling grateful to + me, and then who knows—? While now, whatever may happen, I shall be + an object of loathing to her: she will never be able to endure the sight + of me. In her eyes I shall always be her lover’s assassin. I have with my + own hands opened an abyss! I have lost her a second time, and by my own + fault.” + </p> + <p> + The unhappy man heaped the bitterest reproaches upon himself. He was in + despair. He had never so hated Albert,—that wretch, who, stained + with a crime, stood in the way of his happiness. Then too he cursed old + Tabaret! Alone, he would not have decided so quickly. He would have + waited, thought over the matter, matured his decision, and certainly have + perceived the inconveniences, which now occurred to him. The old fellow, + always carried away like a badly trained bloodhound, and full of stupid + enthusiasm, had confused him, and led him to do what he now so much + regretted. + </p> + <p> + It was precisely this unfavorable moment that M. Tabaret chose for + reappearing before the magistrate. He had just been informed of the + termination of the inquiry; and he arrived, impatient to know what had + passed, swelling with curiosity, and full of the sweet hope of hearing of + the fulfilment of his predictions. + </p> + <p> + “What answers did he make?” he asked even before he had closed the door. + </p> + <p> + “He is evidently guilty,” replied the magistrate, with a harshness very + different to his usual manner. + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret, who expected to receive praises by the basketful, was + astounded at this tone! It was therefore, with great hesitancy that he + offered his further services. + </p> + <p> + “I have come,” he said modestly, “to know if any investigations are + necessary to demolish the <i>alibi</i> pleaded by the prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “He pleaded no <i>alibi</i>,” replied the magistrate, dryly. + </p> + <p> + “How,” cried the detective, “no <i>alibi</i>? Pshaw! I ask pardon: he has + of course then confessed everything.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the magistrate impatiently, “he has confessed nothing. He + acknowledges that the proofs are decisive: he cannot give an account of + how he spent his time; but he protests his innocence.” + </p> + <p> + In the centre of the room, M. Tabaret stood with his mouth wide open, and + his eyes staring wildly, and altogether in the most grotesque attitude his + astonishment could effect. He was literally thunderstruck. In spite of his + anger, M. Daburon could not help smiling; and even Constant gave a grin, + which on his lips was equivalent to a paroxysm of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Not an <i>alibi</i>, nothing?” murmured the old fellow. “No explanations? + The idea! It is inconceivable! Not an <i>alibi</i>? We must then be + mistaken: he cannot be the criminal. That is certain!” + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate felt that the old amateur must have been + waiting the result of the examination at the wine shop round the corner, + or else that he had gone mad. + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately,” said he, “we are not mistaken. It is but too clearly + shown that M. de Commarin is the murderer. However, if you like, you can + ask Constant for his report of the examination, and read it over while I + put these papers in order.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said the old fellow with feverish anxiety. + </p> + <p> + He sat down in Constant’s chair, and, leaning his elbows on the table, + thrusting his hands in his hair, he in less than no time read the report + through. When he had finished, he arose with pale and distorted features. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he to the magistrate in a strange voice, “I have been the + involuntary cause of a terrible mistake. This man is innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come,” said M. Daburon, without stopping his preparations for + departure, “you are going out of your mind, my dear M. Tabaret. How, after + all that you have read there, can—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, yes: it is because I have read this that I entreat you to + pause, or we shall add one more mistake to the sad list of judicial + errors. Read this examination over carefully; there is not a reply but + which declares this unfortunate man innocent, not a word but which throws + out a ray of light. And he is still in prison, still in solitary + confinement?” + </p> + <p> + “He is; and there he will remain, if you please,” interrupted the + magistrate. “It becomes you well to talk in this manner, after the way you + spoke last night, when I hesitated so much.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir,” cried the old detective, “I still say precisely the same. Ah, + wretched Tabaret! all is lost; no one understands you. Pardon me, sir, if + I lack the respect due to you; but you have not grasped my method. It is, + however, very simple. Given a crime, with all the circumstances and + details, I construct, bit by bit, a plan of accusation, which I do not + guarantee until it is entire and perfect. If a man is found to whom this + plan applies exactly in every particular the author of the crime is found: + otherwise, one has laid hands upon an innocent person. It is not + sufficient that such and such particulars seem to point to him; it must be + all or nothing. This is infallible. Now, in this case, how have I reached + the culprit? Through proceeding by inference from the known to the + unknown. I have examined his work; and I have formed an idea of the + worker. Reason and logic lead us to what? To a villain, determined, + audacious, and prudent, versed in the business. And do you think that such + a man would neglect a precaution that would not be omitted by the + stupidest tyro? It is inconceivable. What! this man is so skillful as to + leave such feeble traces that they escape Gevrol’s practised eye, and you + think he would risk his safety by leaving an entire night unaccounted for? + It’s impossible! I am as sure of my system as of a sum that has been + proved. The assassin has an <i>alibi</i>. Albert has pleaded none; then he + is innocent.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon surveyed the detective pityingly, much as he would have looked + at a remarkable monomaniac. When the old fellow had finished,—“My + worthy M. Tabaret,” the magistrate said to him: “you have but one fault. + You err through an excess of subtlety, you accord too freely to others the + wonderful sagacity with which you yourself are endowed. Our man has failed + in prudence, simply because he believed his rank would place him above + suspicion.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, no, a thousand times no. My culprit,—the true one,—he + whom we have missed catching, feared everything. Besides, does Albert + defend himself? No. He is overwhelmed because he perceives coincidences so + fatal that they appear to condemn him, without a chance of escape. Does he + try to excuse himself? No. He simply replies, ‘It is terrible.’ And yet + all through his examination I feel reticence that I cannot explain.” + </p> + <p> + “I can explain it very easily; and I am as confident as though he had + confessed everything. I have more than sufficient proofs for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir, proofs! There are always enough of those against an arrested + man. They existed against every innocent man who was ever condemned. + Proofs! Why, I had them in quantities against Kaiser, the poor little + tailor, who—” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” interrupted the magistrate, hastily, “if it is not he, the most + interested one, who committed the crime, who then is it? His father, the + Count de Commarin?” + </p> + <p> + “No: the true assassin is a young man.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had arranged his papers, and finished his preparations. He took + up his hat, and, as he prepared to leave, replied: “You must then see that + I am right. Come and see me by-and-by, M. Tabaret, and make haste and get + rid of all your foolish ideas. To-morrow we will talk the whole matter + over again. I am rather tired to-night.” Then he added, addressing his + clerk, “Constant, look in at the record office, in case the prisoner + Commarin should wish to speak to me.” + </p> + <p> + He moved towards the door; but M. Tabaret barred his exit. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said the old man, “in the name of heaven listen to me! He is + innocent, I swear to you. Help me, then, to find the real culprit. Sir, + think of your remorse should you cause an—” + </p> + <p> + But the magistrate would not hear more. He pushed old Tabaret quickly + aside, and hurried out. + </p> + <p> + The old man now turned to Constant. He wished to convince him. Lost + trouble: the tall clerk hastened to put his things away, thinking of his + soup, which was getting cold. + </p> + <p> + So that M. Tabaret soon found himself locked out of the room and alone in + the dark passage. All the usual sounds of the Palais had ceased: the place + was silent as the tomb. The old detective desperately tore his hair with + both hands. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he exclaimed, “Albert is innocent; and it is I who have cast + suspicion upon him. It is I, fool that I am, who have infused into the + obstinate spirit of this magistrate a conviction that I can no longer + destroy. He is innocent and is yet enduring the most horrible anguish. + Suppose he should commit suicide! There have been instances of wretched + men, who in despair at being falsely accused have killed themselves in + their cells. Poor boy! But I will not abandon him. I have ruined him: I + will save him! I must, I will find the culprit; and he shall pay dearly + for my mistake, the scoundrel!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + After seeing the Count de Commarin safely in his carriage at the entrance + of the Palais de Justice, Noel Gerdy seemed inclined to leave him. Resting + one hand against the half-opened carriage door, he bowed respectfully, and + said: “When, sir, shall I have the honour of paying my respects to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Come with me now,” said the old nobleman. + </p> + <p> + The advocate, still leaning forward, muttered some excuses. He had, he + said, important business: he must positively return home at once. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” repeated the count, in a tone which admitted no reply. + </p> + <p> + Noel obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “You have found your father,” said M. de Commarin in a low tone; “but I + must warn you, that at the same time you lose your independence.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage started; and only then did the count notice that Noel had + very modestly seated himself opposite him. This humility seemed to + displease him greatly. + </p> + <p> + “Sit here by my side, sir,” he exclaimed; “are you not my son?” + </p> + <p> + The advocate, without replying, took his seat by the side of the terrible + old man, but occupied as little room as possible. + </p> + <p> + He had been very much upset by his interview with M. Daburon; for he + retained none of his usual assurance, none of that exterior coolness by + which he was accustomed to conceal his feelings. Fortunately, the ride + gave him time to breathe, and to recover himself a little. + </p> + <p> + On the way from the Palais de Justice to the De Commarin mansion, not a + word passed between the father and son. When the carriage stopped before + the steps leading to the principal entrance, and the count got out with + Noel’s assistance, there was great commotion among the servants. + </p> + <p> + There were, it is true, few of them present, nearly all having been + summoned to the Palais; but the count and the advocate had scarcely + disappeared, when, as if by enchantment, they were all assembled in the + hall. They came from the garden, the stables, the cellar, and the kitchen. + Nearly all bore marks of their calling. A young groom appeared with his + wooden shoes filled with straw, shuffling about on the marble floor like a + mangy dog on a Gobelin tapestry. One of them recognised Noel as the + visitor of the previous Sunday; and that was enough to set fire to all + these gossip-mongers, thirsting for scandal. + </p> + <p> + Since morning, moreover, the unusual events at the De Commarin mansion had + caused a great stir in society. A thousand stories were circulated, talked + over, corrected, and added to by the ill-natured and malicious,—some + abominably absurd, others simply idiotic. Twenty people, very noble and + still more proud, had not been above sending their most intelligent + servants to pay a little visit among the count’s retainers, for the sole + purpose of learning something positive. As it was, nobody knew anything; + and yet everybody pretended to be fully informed. + </p> + <p> + Let any one explain who can this very common phenomenon: A crime is + committed; justice arrives, wrapped in mystery; the police are still + ignorant of almost everything; and yet details of the most minute + character are already circulated about the streets. + </p> + <p> + “So,” said a cook, “that tall dark fellow with the whiskers is the count’s + true son!” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said one of the footmen who had accompanied M. de + Commarin; “as for the other, he is no more his son than Jean here; who, by + the way, will be kicked out of doors, if he is caught in this part of the + house with his dirty working-shoes on.” + </p> + <p> + “What a romance,” exclaimed Jean, supremely indifferent to the danger + which threatened him. + </p> + <p> + “Such things constantly occur in great families,” said the cook. + </p> + <p> + “How ever did it happen?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, one day, long ago, when the countess who is now dead was + out walking with her little son, who was about six months old, the child + was stolen by gypsies. The poor lady was full of grief; but above all, was + greatly afraid of her husband, who was not over kind. What did she do? She + purchased a brat from a woman, who happened to be passing; and, never + having noticed his child, the count has never known the difference.” + </p> + <p> + “But the assassination!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s very simple. When the woman saw her brat in such a nice berth, she + bled him finely, and has kept up a system of blackmailing all along. The + viscount had nothing left for himself. So he resolved at last to put an + end to it, and come to a final settling with her.” + </p> + <p> + “And the other, who is up there, the dark fellow?” + </p> + <p> + The orator would have gone on, without doubt, giving the most satisfactory + explanations of everything, if he had not been interrupted by the entrance + of M. Lubin, who came from the Palais in company of young Joseph. His + success, so brilliant up to this time, was cut short, just like that of a + second-rate singer when the star of the evening comes on the stage. The + entire assembly turned towards Albert’s valet, all eyes questioning him. + He of course knew all, he was the man they wanted. He did not take + advantage of his position, and keep them waiting. + </p> + <p> + “What a rascal!” he exclaimed at first. “What a villainous fellow is this + Albert!” + </p> + <p> + He entirely did away with the “Mr.” and the “Viscount,” and met with + general approval for doing so. + </p> + <p> + “However,” he added, “I always had my doubts. The fellow didn’t please me + by half. You see now to what we are exposed every day in our profession, + and it is dreadfully disagreeable. The magistrate did not conceal it from + me. ‘M. Lubin,’ said he, ‘it is very sad for a man like you to have waited + on such a scoundrel.’ For you must know, that, besides an old woman over + eighty years old, he also assassinated a young girl of twelve. The little + child, the magistrate told me, was chopped into bits.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” put in Joseph; “he must have been a great fool. Do people do those + sort of things themselves when they are rich, and when there are so many + poor devils who only ask to gain their living?” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said M. Lubin in a knowing tone; “you will see him come out of it + as white as snow. These rich men can do anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow,” said the cook, “I’d willingly give a month’s wages to be a + mouse, and to listen to what the count and the tall dark fellow are + talking about. Suppose some one went up and tried to find out what is + going on.” + </p> + <p> + This proposition did not meet with the least favour. The servants knew by + experience that, on important occasions, spying was worse than useless. + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin knew all about servants from infancy. His study was, + therefore, a shelter from all indiscretion. The sharpest ear placed at the + keyhole could hear nothing of what was going on within, even when the + master was in a passion, and his voice loudest. One alone, Denis, the + count’s valet, had the opportunity of gathering information; but he was + well paid to be discreet, and he was so. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, M. de Commarin was sitting in the same arm-chair on which + the evening before he had bestowed such furious blows while listening to + Albert. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he left his carriage, the old nobleman recovered his + haughtiness. He became even more arrogant in his manner, than he had been + humble when before the magistrate, as though he were ashamed of what he + now considered an unpardonable weakness. + </p> + <p> + He wondered how he could have yielded to a momentary impulse, how his + grief could have so basely betrayed him. + </p> + <p> + At the remembrance of the avowals wrested from him by a sort of delirium, + he blushed, and reproached himself bitterly. The same as Albert, the night + before, Noel, having fully recovered himself, stood erect, cold as marble, + respectful, but no longer humble. + </p> + <p> + The father and son exchanged glances which had nothing of sympathy nor + friendliness. + </p> + <p> + They examined one another, they almost measured each other, much as two + adversaries feel their way with their eyes before encountering with their + weapons. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said the count at length in a harsh voice, “henceforth this house + is yours. From this moment you are the Viscount de Commarin; you regain + possession of all the rights of which you were deprived. Listen, before + you thank me. I wish, at once, to relieve you of all misunderstanding. + Remember this well, sir; had I been master of the situation, I would never + have recognised you: Albert should have remained in the position in which + I placed him.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand you, sir,” replied Noel. “I don’t think that I could ever + bring myself to do an act like that by which you deprived me of my + birthright; but I declare that, if I had the misfortune to do so, I should + afterwards have acted as you have. Your rank was too conspicuous to permit + a voluntary acknowledgment. It was a thousand times better to suffer an + injustice to continue in secret, than to expose the name to the comments + of the malicious.” + </p> + <p> + This answer surprised the count, and very agreeably too. But he wouldn’t + let his satisfaction be seen, and it was in a still harsher voice that he + resumed. + </p> + <p> + “I have no claim, sir, upon your affection; I do not ask for it, but I + insist at all times upon the utmost deference. It is traditional in our + house, that a son shall never interrupt his father when he is speaking; + that, you have just been guilty of. Neither do children judge their + parents; that also you have just done. When I was forty years of age my + father was in his second childhood; but I do not remember ever having + raised my voice above his. This said, I continue. I provided the necessary + funds for the expenses of Albert’s household completely, distinct from my + own, for he had his own servants, horses, and carriages; and besides that + I allowed the unhappy boy four thousand francs a month. I have decided in + order to put a stop to all foolish gossip, and to make your position the + easier, that you should live on a grander scale; this matter concerns + myself. Further, I will increase your monthly allowance to six thousand + francs; which I trust you will spend as nobly as possible, giving the + least possible cause for ridicule. I cannot too strongly exhort you to the + utmost caution. Keep close watch over yourself. Weigh your words well. + Study your slightest actions. You will be the point of observation of the + thousands of impertinent idlers who compose our world; your blunders will + be their delight. Do you fence?” + </p> + <p> + “Moderately well.” + </p> + <p> + “That will do! Do you ride?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but in six months I will be a good horseman, or break my neck.” + </p> + <p> + “You must become a horseman, and not break anything. Let us proceed. You + will, of course, not occupy Albert’s apartments. They will be walled off, + as soon as I am free of the police. Thank heaven! the house is large. You + will occupy the other wing; and there will be a separate entrance to your + apartments, by another staircase. Servants, horses, carriages, furniture, + such as become a viscount, will be at your service, cost what it may, + within forty-eight hours. On the day of your taking possession, you must + look as though you had been installed there for years. There will be a + great scandal; but that cannot be avoided. A prudent father might send you + away for a few months to the Austrian or Russian courts; but, in this + instance, such prudence would be absurd. Much better a dreadful outcry, + which ends quickly, than low murmurs which last forever. Dare public + opinion; and, in eight days, it will have exhausted its comments, and the + story will have become old. So, to work! This very evening the workmen + shall be here; and, in the first place, I must present you to my + servants.” + </p> + <p> + To put his purpose into execution, the count moved to touch the bell-rope. + Noel stopped him. + </p> + <p> + Since the commencement of this interview, the advocate had wandered in the + regions of the thousand and one nights, the wonderful lamp in his hand. + The fairy reality cast into the shade his wildest dreams. He was dazzled + by the count’s words, and had need of all his reason to struggle against + the giddiness which came over him, on realising his great good fortune. + Touched by a magic wand, he seemed to awake to a thousand novel and + unknown sensations. He rolled in purple, and bathed in gold. + </p> + <p> + But he knew how to appear unmoved. His face had contracted the habit of + guarding the secret of the most violent internal excitement. While all his + passions vibrated within him, he appeared to listen with a sad and almost + indifferent coldness. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me, sir,” he said to the count “without overstepping the bounds of + the utmost respect, to say a few words. I am touched more than I can + express by your goodness; and yet I beseech you, to delay its + manifestation. The proposition I am about to suggest may perhaps appear to + you worthy of consideration. It seems to me that the situation demands the + greatest delicacy on my part. It is well to despise public opinion, but + not to defy it. I am certain to be judged with the utmost severity. If I + install myself so suddenly in your house, what will be said? I shall have + the appearance of a conqueror, who thinks little, so long as he succeeds, + of passing over the body of the conquered. They will reproach me with + occupying the bed still warm from Albert’s body. They will jest bitterly + at my haste in taking possession. They will certainly compare me to + Albert, and the comparison will be to my disadvantage, since I should + appear to triumph at a time when a great disaster has fallen upon our + house.” + </p> + <p> + The count listened without showing any signs of disapprobation, struck + perhaps by the justice of these reasons. Noel imagined that his harshness + was much more feigned than real; and this idea encouraged him. + </p> + <p> + “I beseech you then, sir,” he continued, “to permit me for the present in + no way to change my mode of living. By not showing myself, I leave all + malicious remarks to waste themselves in air,—I let public opinion + the better familiarise itself with the idea of a coming change. There is a + great deal in not taking the world by surprise. Being expected, I shall + not have the air of an intruder on presenting myself. Absent, I shall have + the advantages which the unknown always possess; I shall obtain the good + opinion of all those who have envied Albert; and I shall secure as + champions all those who would to-morrow assail me, if my elevation came + suddenly upon them. Besides, by this delay, I shall accustom myself to my + abrupt change of fortune. I ought not to bring into your world, which is + now mine, the manners of a parvenu. My name ought not to inconvenience me, + like a badly fitting coat.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it would be wisest,” murmured the count. + </p> + <p> + This assent, so easily obtained, surprised Noel. He got the idea that the + count had only wished to prove him, to tempt him. In any case, whether he + had triumphed by his eloquence, or whether he had simply shunned a trap, + he had succeeded. His confidence increased; he recovered all his former + assurance. + </p> + <p> + “I must add, sir,” he continued, “that there are a few matters concerning + myself which demand my attention. Before entering upon my new life, I must + think of those I am leaving behind me. I have friends and clients. This + event has surprised me, just as I am beginning to reap the reward of ten + years of hard work and perseverance. I have as yet only sown; I am on the + point of reaping. My name is already known; I have obtained some little + influence. I confess, without shame, that I have heretofore professed + ideas and opinions that would not be suited to this house; and it is + impossible in the space of a day—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” interrupted the count in a bantering tone, “you are a liberal. It is + a fashionable disease. Albert also was a great liberal.” + </p> + <p> + “My ideas, sir,” said Noel quickly, “were those of every intelligent man + who wishes to succeed. Besides, have not all parties one and the same aim—power? + They merely take different means of reaching it. I will not enlarge upon + this subject. Be assured, sir, that I shall know how to bear my name, and + think and act as a man of my rank should.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust so,” said M. de Commarin; “and I hope that you will never make me + regret Albert.” + </p> + <p> + “At least, sir, it will not be my fault. But, since you have mentioned the + name of that unfortunate young man, let us occupy ourselves about him.” + </p> + <p> + The count cast a look of distrust upon Noel. + </p> + <p> + “What can now be done for Albert?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “What, sir!” cried Noel with ardour, “would you abandon him, when he has + not a friend left in the world? He is still your son, sir, he is my + brother; for thirty years he has borne the name of Commarin. All the + members of a family are jointly liable. Innocent, or guilty, he has a + right to count upon us; and we owe him our assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you then hope for, sir?” asked the count. + </p> + <p> + “To save him, if he is innocent; and I love to believe that he is. I am an + advocate, sir, and I wish to defend him. I have been told that I have some + talent; in such a cause I must have. Yes, however strong the charges + against him may be, I will overthrow them. I will dispel all doubts. The + truth shall burst forth at the sound of my voice. I will find new accents + to imbue the judges with my own conviction. I will save him, and this + shall be my last cause.” + </p> + <p> + “And if he should confess,” said the count, “if he has already confessed?” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir,” replied Noel with a dark look, “I will render him the last + service, which in such a misfortune I should ask of a brother, I will + procure him the means of avoiding judgment.” + </p> + <p> + “That is well spoken, sir,” said the count, “very well, my son!” + </p> + <p> + And he held out his hand to Noel, who pressed it, bowing a respectful + acknowledgment. The advocate took a long breath. At last he had found the + way to this haughty noble’s heart; he had conquered, he had pleased him. + </p> + <p> + “Let us return to yourself, sir,” continued the count. “I yield to the + reasons which you have suggested. All shall be done as you desire. But do + not consider this a precedent. I never change my plans, even though they + are proved to be bad, and contrary to my interests. But at least nothing + prevents your remaining here from to-day, and taking your meals with me. + We will, first of all, see where you can be lodged, until you formally + take possession of the apartments which are to be prepared for you.” + </p> + <p> + Noel had the hardihood to again interrupt the old nobleman. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he, “when you bade me follow you here, I obeyed you, as was my + duty. Now another and a sacred duty calls me away. Madame Gerdy is at this + moment dying. Ought I to leave the deathbed of her who filled my mother’s + place?” + </p> + <p> + “Valerie!” murmured the count. He leaned upon the arm of his chair, his + face buried in his hands; in one moment the whole past rose up before him. + </p> + <p> + “She has done me great harm,” he murmured, as if answering his thoughts. + “She has ruined my whole life; but ought I to be implacable? She is dying + from the accusation which is hanging over Albert our son. It was I who was + the cause of it all. Doubtless, in this last hour, a word from me would be + a great consolation to her. I will accompany you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Noel started at this unexpected proposal. + </p> + <p> + “O sir!” said he hastily, “spare yourself, pray, a heart-rending sight. + Your going would be useless. Madame Gerdy exists probably still; but her + mind is dead. Her brain was unable to resist so violent a shock. The + unfortunate woman would neither recognise nor understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “Go then alone,” sighed the count, “go, my son!” + </p> + <p> + The words “my son,” pronounced with a marked emphasis, sounded like a note + of victory in Noel’s ears. + </p> + <p> + He bowed to take his leave. The count motioned him to wait. + </p> + <p> + “In any case,” he said, “a place at table will be set for you here. I dine + at half-past six precisely. I shall be glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + He rang. His valet appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Denis,” said he, “none of the orders I may give will affect this + gentleman. You will tell this to all the servants. This gentleman is at + home here.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate took his leave; and the count felt great comfort in being + once more alone. Since morning, events had followed one another with such + bewildering rapidity that his thoughts could scarcely keep pace with them. + At last, he was able to reflect. + </p> + <p> + “That, then,” said he to himself, “is my legitimate son. I am sure of his + birth, at any rate. Besides I should be foolish to disown him, for I find + him the exact picture of myself at thirty. He is a handsome fellow, Noel, + very handsome. His features are decidedly in his favour. He is intelligent + and acute. He knows how to be humble without lowering himself, and firm + without arrogance. His unexpected good fortune does not turn his head. I + augur well of a man who knows how to bear himself in prosperity. He thinks + well; he will carry his title proudly. And yet I feel no sympathy with + him; it seems to me that I shall always regret my poor Albert. I never + knew how to appreciate him. Unhappy boy! To commit such a vile crime! He + must have lost his reason. I do not like the look of this one’s eye. They + say that he is perfect. He expresses, at least, the noblest and most + appropriate sentiments. He is gentle and strong, magnanimous, generous, + heroic. He is without malice, and is ready to sacrifice himself to repay + me for what I have done for him. He forgives Madame Gerdy; he loves + Albert. It is enough to make one distrust him. But all young men + now-a-days are so. Ah! we live in a happy age. Our children are born free + from all human shortcomings. They have neither the vices, the passions, + nor the tempers of their fathers; and these precocious philosophers, + models of sagacity and virtue, are incapable of committing the least + folly. Alas! Albert, too, was perfect; and he has assassinated Claudine! + What will this one do?—All the same,” he added, half-aloud, “I ought + to have accompanied him to see Valerie!” + </p> + <p> + And, although the advocate had been gone at least a good ten minutes, M. + de Commarin, not realising how the time had passed, hastened to the + window, in the hope of seeing Noel in the court-yard, and calling him + back. + </p> + <p> + But Noel was already far away. On leaving the house, he took a cab and was + quickly driven to the Rue St. Lazare. + </p> + <p> + On reaching his own door, he threw rather than gave five francs to the + driver, and ran rapidly up the four flights of stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Who has called to see me?” he asked of the servant. + </p> + <p> + “No one, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed relieved from a great anxiety, and continued in a calmer tone, + “And the doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “He came this morning, sir,” replied the girl, “while you were out; and he + did not seem at all hopeful. He came again just now, and is still here.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. I will go and speak to him. If any one calls, show them into + my study, and let me know.” + </p> + <p> + On entering Madame Gerdy’s chamber, Noel saw at a glance that no change + for the better had taken place during his absence. With fixed eyes and + convulsed features, the sick woman lay extended upon her back. She seemed + dead, save for the sudden starts, which shook her at intervals, and + disarranged the bedclothes. + </p> + <p> + Above her head was placed a little vessel, filled with ice water, which + fell drop by drop upon her forehead, covered with large bluish spots. The + table and mantel-piece were covered with little pots, medicine bottles, + and half-emptied glasses. At the foot of the bed, a piece of rag stained + with blood showed that the doctor had just had recourse to leeches. + </p> + <p> + Near the fireplace, where was blazing a large fire, a nun of the order of + St. Vincent de Paul was kneeling, watching a saucepan. She was a young + woman, with a face whiter than her cap. Her immovably placid features, her + mournful look, betokened the renunciation of the flesh, and the abdication + of all independence of thought. + </p> + <p> + Her heavy grey costume hung about her in large ungraceful folds. Every + time she moved, her long chaplet of beads of coloured box-wood, loaded + with crosses and copper medals, shook and trailed along the floor with a + noise like a jingling of chains. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Herve was seated on a chair opposite the bed, watching, apparently + with close attention, the nun’s preparations. He jumped up as Noel + entered. + </p> + <p> + “At last you are here,” he said, giving his friend a strong grasp of the + hand. + </p> + <p> + “I was detained at the Palais,” said the advocate, as if he felt the + necessity of explaining his absence; “and I have been, as you may well + imagine, dreadfully anxious.” + </p> + <p> + He leant towards the doctor’s ear, and in a trembling voice asked: “Well, + is she at all better?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor shook his head with an air of deep discouragement. + </p> + <p> + “She is much worse,” he replied: “since morning bad symptoms have + succeeded each other with frightful rapidity.” + </p> + <p> + He checked himself. The advocate had seized his arm and was pressing it + with all his might. Madame Gerdy stirred a little, and a feeble groan + escaped her. + </p> + <p> + “She heard you,” murmured Noel. + </p> + <p> + “I wish it were so,” said the doctor; “It would be most encouraging. But I + fear you are mistaken. However, we will see.” He went up to Madame Gerdy, + and, whilst feeling her pulse, examined her carefully; then, with the tip + of his finger, he lightly raised her eyelid. + </p> + <p> + The eye appeared dull, glassy, lifeless. + </p> + <p> + “Come, judge for yourself; take her hand, speak to her.” + </p> + <p> + Noel, trembling all over, did as his friend wished. He drew near, and, + leaning over the bed, so that his mouth almost touched the sick woman’s + ear, he murmured: “Mother, it is I, Noel, your own Noel. Speak to me, make + some sign, do you hear me, mother?” + </p> + <p> + It was in vain; she retained her frightful immobility. Not a sign of + intelligence crossed her features. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said the doctor, “I told you the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor woman!” sighed Noel, “does she suffer?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at present.” + </p> + <p> + The nun now rose; and she too came beside the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” said she: “all is ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Then call the servant, sister, to help us. We are going to apply a + mustard poultice.” + </p> + <p> + The servant hastened in. In the arms of the two women, Madame Gerdy was + like a corpse, whom they were dressing for the last time. She was as rigid + as though she were dead. She must have suffered much and long, poor woman, + for it was pitiable to see how thin she was. The nun herself was affected, + although she had become habituated to the sight of suffering. How many + invalids had breathed their last in her arms during the fifteen years that + she had gone from pillow to pillow! + </p> + <p> + Noel, during this time, had retired into the window recess, and pressed + his burning brow against the panes. + </p> + <p> + Of what was he thinking, while she who had given him so many proofs of + maternal tenderness and devotion was dying a few paces from him? Did he + regret her? was he not thinking rather of the grand and magnificent + existence which awaited him on the other side of the river, at the + Faubourg St. Germain? He turned abruptly round on hearing his friend’s + voice. + </p> + <p> + “It is done,” said the doctor; “we have only now to wait the effect of the + mustard. If she feels it, it will be a good sign; if it has no effect, we + will try cupping.” + </p> + <p> + “And if that does not succeed?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor answered only with a shrug of the shoulders, which showed his + inability to do more. + </p> + <p> + “I understand your silence, Herve,” murmured Noel. “Alas! you told me last + night she was lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Scientifically, yes; but I do not yet despair. It is hardly a year ago + that the father-in-law of one of our comrades recovered from an almost + identical attack; and I saw him when he was much worse than this; + suppuration had set in.” + </p> + <p> + “It breaks my heart to see her in this state,” resumed Noel. “Must she die + without recovering her reason even for one moment? Will she not recognise + me, speak one word to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? This disease, my poor friend, baffles all foresight. Each + moment, the aspect may change, according as the inflammation affects such + or such a part of the brain. She is now in a state of utter insensibility, + of complete prostration of all her intellectual faculties, of coma, of + paralysis so to say; to-morrow, she may be seized with convulsions, + accompanied with a fierce delirium.” + </p> + <p> + “And will she speak then?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; but that will neither modify the nature nor the gravity of the + disease.” + </p> + <p> + “And will she recover her reason?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” answered the doctor, looking fixedly at his friend; “but why do + you ask that?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear Herve, one word from Madame Gerdy, only one, would be of such + use to me!” + </p> + <p> + “For your affair, eh! Well, I can tell you nothing, can promise you + nothing. You have as many chances in your favour as against you; only, do + not leave her. If her intelligence returns, it will be only momentary, try + and profit by it. But I must go,” added the doctor; “I have still three + calls to make.” + </p> + <p> + Noel followed his friend. When they reached the landing, he asked: “You + will return?” + </p> + <p> + “This evening, at nine. There will be no need of me till then. All depends + upon the watcher. But I have chosen a pearl. I know her well.” + </p> + <p> + “It was you, then, who brought this nun?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and without your permission. Are you displeased?” + </p> + <p> + “Not the least in the world. Only I confess—” + </p> + <p> + “What! you make a grimace. Do your political opinions forbid your having + your mother, I should say Madame Gerdy, nursed by a nun of St. Vincent?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Herve, you—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I know what you are going to say. They are adroit, insinuating, + dangerous, all that is quite true. If I had a rich old uncle whose heir I + expected to be, I shouldn’t introduce one of them into his house. These + good creatures are sometimes charged with strange commissions. But, what + have you to fear from this one? Never mind what fools say. Money aside, + these worthy sisters are the best nurses in the world. I hope you will + have one when your end comes. But good-bye; I am in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + And, regardless of his professional dignity, the doctor hurried down the + stairs; while Noel, full of thought, his countenance displaying the + greatest anxiety, returned to Madame Gerdy. + </p> + <p> + At the door of the sick-room, the nun awaited the advocate’s return. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said she, “sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You want something of me, sister?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, the servant bade me come to you for money; she has no more, and had + to get credit at the chemist’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, sister,” interrupted Noel, seemingly very much vexed; “excuse + me for not having anticipated your request; but you see I am rather + confused.” + </p> + <p> + And, taking a hundred-franc note out of his pocket-book, he laid it on the + mantel piece. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, sir,” said the nun; “I will keep an account of what I spend. We + always do that,” she added; “it is more convenient for the family. One is + so troubled at seeing those one loves laid low by illness. You have + perhaps not thought of giving this poor lady the sweet aid of our holy + religion! In your place, sir, I should send without delay for a priest,—” + </p> + <p> + “What, now, sister? Do you not see the condition she is in? She is the + same as dead; you saw that she did not hear my voice.” + </p> + <p> + “That is of little consequence, sir,” replied the nun; “you will always + have done your duty. She did not answer you; but are you sure that she + will not answer the priest? Ah, you do not know all the power of the last + sacraments! I have seen the dying recover their intelligence and + sufficient strength to confess, and to receive the sacred body of our Lord + Jesus Christ. I have often heard families say that they do not wish to + alarm the invalid, that the sight of the minister of our Lord might + inspire a terror that would hasten the final end. It is a fatal error. The + priest does not terrify; he reassures the soul, at the beginning of its + long journey. He speaks in the name of the God of mercy, who comes to + save, not to destroy. I could cite to you many cases of dying people who + have been cured simply by contact with the sacred balm.” + </p> + <p> + The nun spoke in a tone as mournful as her look. Her heart was evidently + not in the words which she uttered. Without doubt, she had learned them + when she first entered the convent. Then they expressed something she + really felt, she spoke her own thoughts; but, since then, she had repeated + the words over and over again to the friends of every sick person that she + attended, until they lost all meaning so far as she was concerned. To + utter them became simply a part of her duties as nurse, the same as the + preparation of draughts, and the making of poultices. + </p> + <p> + Noel was not listening to her; his thoughts were far away. + </p> + <p> + “Your dear mother,” continued the nun, “this good lady that you love so + much, no doubt trusted in her religion. Do you wish to endanger her + salvation? If she could speak in the midst of her cruel sufferings—” + </p> + <p> + The advocate was on the point of replying, when the servant announced that + a gentleman, who would not give his name, wished to speak with him on + business. + </p> + <p> + “I will come,” he said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you decide, sir?” persisted the nun. + </p> + <p> + “I leave you free, sister, to do as you may judge best.” + </p> + <p> + The worthy woman began to recite her lesson of thanks, but to no purpose. + Noel had disappeared with a displeased look; and almost immediately she + heard his voice in the next room, saying: “At last you have come, M. + Clergeot, I had almost given you up!” + </p> + <p> + The visitor, whom the advocate had been expecting, is a person well known + in the Rue St. Lazare, round about the Rue de Provence, the neighbourhood + of Notre Dame de Lorette, and all along the exterior Boulevards, from the + Chaussee des Martyrs to the Rond-Point of the old Barriere de Clichy. + </p> + <p> + M. Clergeot is no more a usurer than M. Jourdin’s father was a shopkeeper. + Only, as he has lots of money, and is very obliging, he lends it to his + friends; and, in return for this kindness, he consents to receive + interest, which varies from fifteen to five hundred per cent. + </p> + <p> + The excellent man positively loves his clients, and his honesty is + generally appreciated. He has never been known to seize a debtor’s goods; + he prefers to follow him up without respite for ten years, and tear from + him bit by bit what is his due. + </p> + <p> + He lives near the top of the Rue de la Victoire. He has no shop, and yet + he sells everything saleable, and some other things, too, that the law + scarcely considers merchandise. Anything to be useful or neighbourly. He + often asserts that he is not very rich. It is possibly true. He is + whimsical more than covetous, and fearfully bold. Free with his money when + one pleases him, he would not lend five francs, even with a mortgage on + the Chateau of Ferrieres as guarantee, to whosoever does not meet with his + approval. However, he often risks his all on the most unlucky cards. + </p> + <p> + His preferred customers consist of women of doubtful morality, actresses, + artists, and those venturesome fellows who enter upon professions which + depend solely upon those who practice them, such as lawyers and doctors. + </p> + <p> + He lends to women upon their present beauty, to men upon their future + talent. Slight pledges! His discernment, it should be said, however, + enjoys a great reputation. It is rarely at fault. A pretty girl furnished + by Clergeot is sure to go far. For an artist to be in Clergeot’s debt was + a recommendation preferable to the warmest criticism. + </p> + <p> + Madame Juliette had procured this useful and honourable acquaintance for + her lover. + </p> + <p> + Noel, who well knew how sensitive this worthy man was to kind attentions, + and how pleased by politeness, began by offering him a seat, and asking + after his health. Clergeot went into details. His teeth were still good; + but his sight was beginning to fail. His legs were no longer so steady, + and his hearing was not all that could be desired. The chapter of + complaints ended—“You know,” said he, “why I have called. Your bills + fall due to-day; and I am devilishly in need of money. I have one of ten, + one of seven, and a third of five thousand francs, total, twenty-two + thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, M. Clergeot,” replied Noel, “do not let us have any joking.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” said the usurer; “I am not joking at all.” + </p> + <p> + “I rather think you are though. Why, it’s just eight days ago to-day that + I wrote to tell you that I was not prepared to meet the bills, and asked + for a renewal!” + </p> + <p> + “I recollect very well receiving your letter.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “By my not answering the note, I supposed that you would understand that I + could not comply with your request; I hoped that you would exert yourself + to find the amount for me.” + </p> + <p> + Noel allowed a gesture of impatience to escape him. + </p> + <p> + “I have not done so,” he said; “so take your own course. I haven’t a sou.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil. Do you know that I have renewed these bills four times + already?” + </p> + <p> + “I know that the interest has been fully and promptly paid, and at a rate + which cannot make you regret the investment.” + </p> + <p> + Clergeot never likes talking about the interest he received. He pretends + that it is humiliating. + </p> + <p> + “I do not complain; I only say that you take things too easily with me. If + I had put your signature in circulation all would have been paid by now.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you would have found means to escape being sued. But you say to + yourself: ‘Old Clergeot is a good fellow.’ And that is true. But I am so + only when it can do me no harm. Now, to-day, I am absolutely in great need + of my money. Ab—so—lute—ly,” he added, emphasising each + syllable. + </p> + <p> + The old fellow’s decided tone seemed to disturb the advocate. + </p> + <p> + “Must I repeat it?” he said; “I am completely drained, com—plete—ly!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” said the usurer; “well, I am sorry for you; but I shall have to + sue you.” + </p> + <p> + “And what good will that do? Let us play above board, M. Clergeot. Do you + care to increase the lawyers’ fees? You don’t do you? Even though, you may + put me to great expense, will that procure you even a centime? You will + obtain judgment against me. Well, what then? Do you think of putting in an + execution? This is not my home; the lease is in Madame Gerdy’s name.” + </p> + <p> + “I know all that. Besides, the sale of everything here would not cover the + amount.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you intend to put me in prison, at Clichy! Bad speculation, I warn + you, my practice will be lost, and, you know, no practice, no money.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” cried the worthy money-lender. “Now you are talking nonsense! You + call that being frank. Pshaw! If you supposed me capable of half the cruel + things you have said, my money would be there in your drawer, ready for + me.” + </p> + <p> + “A mistake! I should not know where to get it, unless by asking Madame + Gerdy, a thing I would never do.” + </p> + <p> + A sarcastic and most irritating little laugh, peculiar to old Clergeot, + interrupted Noel. + </p> + <p> + “It would be no good doing that,” said the usurer; “mamma’s purse has long + been empty; and if the dear creature should die now,—they tell me + she is very ill,—I would not give two hundred napoleons for the + inheritance.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate turned red with passion, his eyes glittered; but he + dissembled, and protested with some spirit. + </p> + <p> + “We know what we know,” continued Clergeot quietly. “Before a man risks + his money, he takes care to make some inquiries. Mamma’s remaining bonds + were sold last October. Ah! the Rue de Provence is an expensive place! I + have made an estimate, which is at home. Juliette is a charming woman, to + be sure; she has not her equal, I am convinced; but she is expensive, + devilish expensive.” + </p> + <p> + Noel was enraged at hearing his Juliette thus spoke of by this honourable + personage. But what reply could he make? Besides, none of us are perfect; + and M. Clergeot possessed the fault of not properly appreciating women, + which doubtless arises from the business transactions he has had with + them. He is charming in his business with the fair sex, complimenting and + flattering them; but the coarsest insults would be less revolting than his + disgusting familiarity. + </p> + <p> + “You have gone too fast,” he continued, without deigning to notice his + client’s ill looks; “and I have told you so before. But, you would not + listen; you are mad about the girl. You can never refuse her anything. + Fool! When a pretty girl wants anything, you should let her long for it + for a while; she has then something to occupy her mind and keep her from + thinking of a quantity of other follies. Four good strong wishes, well + managed, ought to last a year. You don’t know how to look after your own + interests. I know that her glance would turn the head of a stone saint; + but you should reason with yourself, hang it! Why, there are not ten girls + in Paris who live in such style! And do you think she loves you any the + more for it? Not a bit. When she has ruined you, she’ll leave you in the + lurch.” + </p> + <p> + Noel accepted the eloquence of his prudent banker like a man without an + umbrella accepts a shower. + </p> + <p> + “What is the meaning of all this!” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Simply that I will not renew your bills. You understand? Just now, if you + try very hard, you will be able to hand me the twenty-two thousand francs + in question. You need not frown: you will find means to do so to prevent + my seizing your goods,—not here, for that would be absurd, but at + your little woman’s apartments. She would not be at all pleased, and would + not hesitate to tell you so.” + </p> + <p> + “But everything there belongs to her; and you have no right—” + </p> + <p> + “What of that? She will oppose the seizure, no doubt, and I expect her to + do so; but she will make you find the requisite sum. Believe me, you had + best parry the blow. I insist on being paid now. I won’t give you any + further delay; because, in three months’ time, you will have used your + last resources. It is no use saying ‘No,’ like that. You are in one of + those conditions that must be continued at any price. You would burn the + wood from your dying mother’s bed to warm this creature’s feet. Where did + you obtain the ten thousand francs that you left with her the other + evening? Who knows what you will next attempt to procure money? The idea + of keeping her fifteen days, three days, a single day more, may lead you + far. Open your eyes. I know the game well. If you do not leave Juliette, + you are lost. Listen to a little good advice, gratis. You must give her + up, sooner or later, mustn’t you? Do it to-day, then.” + </p> + <p> + As you see, our worthy Clergeot never minces the truth to his customers, + when they do not keep their engagements. If they are displeased, so much + the worse for them! His conscience is at rest. He would never join in any + foolish business. + </p> + <p> + Noel could bear it no longer: and his anger burst forth. + </p> + <p> + “Enough,” he cried decidedly. “Do as you please, M. Clergeot, but have + done with your advice. I prefer the lawyer’s plain prose. If I have + committed follies, I can repair them, and in a way that would surprise + you. Yes, M. Clergeot, I can procure twenty-two thousand francs; I could + have a hundred thousand to-morrow morning, if I saw fit. They would only + cost me the trouble of asking for them. But that I will not do. My + extravagance, with all due deference to you, will remain a secret as + heretofore. I do not choose that my present embarrassed circumstances + should be even suspected. I will not relinquish, for your sake, that at + which I have been aiming, the very day it is within my grasp.” + </p> + <p> + “He resists,” thought the usurer; “he is less deeply involved than I + imagined.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” continued the advocate, “put your bills in the hands of your lawyer. + Let him sue me. In eight days, I shall be summoned to appear before the + Tribunal de Commerce, and I shall ask for the twenty-five days’ delay, + which the judges always grant to an embarrassed debtor. Twenty-five and + eight, all the world over, make just thirty-three days. That is precisely + the respite I need. You have two alternatives: either accept from me at + once a new bill for twenty-four thousand francs payable in six weeks, or + else, as I have an appointment, go off to your lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + “And in six weeks,” replied the usurer, “you will be in precisely the same + condition you are to-day. And forty-five days more of Juliette will cost—” + </p> + <p> + “M. Clergeot,” interrupted Noel, “long before that time, my position will + be completely changed. But I have finished,” he added rising; “and my time + is valuable.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, you impatient fellow!” exclaimed the good-natured banker, + “you said twenty-four thousand francs at forty-five days?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That is about seventy-five per cent,—pretty fair interest.” + </p> + <p> + “I never cavil about interest,” said M. Clergeot; “only—” He looked + slyly at Noel scratching his chin violently, a movement which in him + indicated how insensibly his brain was at work. “Only,” he continued, “I + should very much like to know what you are counting upon.” + </p> + <p> + “That I will not tell you. You will know it ere long, in common with all + the world.” + </p> + <p> + “I have it!” cried M. Clergeot, “I have it! You are going to marry! You + have found an heiress, of course, your little Juliette told me something + of the sort this morning. Ah! you are going to marry! Is she pretty? But + no matter. She has a full purse, eh? You wouldn’t take her without that. + So you are going to start a home of your own?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not say so.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s right. Be discreet. But I can take a hint. One word more. Beware + of the storm; your little woman has a suspicion of the truth. You are + right; it wouldn’t do to be seeking money now. The slightest inquiry would + be sufficient to enlighten your father-in-law as to your financial + position, and you would lose the damsel. Marry and settle down. But get + rid of Juliette, or I won’t give five francs for the fortune. So it is + settled: prepare a new bill for twenty-four thousand francs, and I will + call for it when I bring you the old ones on Monday.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t them with you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “No. And to be frank, I confess that, knowing well I should get nothing + from you, I left them with others at my lawyer’s. However, you may rest + easy: you have my word.” + </p> + <p> + M. Clergeot made a pretence of retiring; but just as he was going out, he + returned quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I had almost forgotten,” said he; “while you are about it, you can make + the bill for twenty-six thousand francs. Your little woman ordered some + dresses, which I shall deliver to-morrow; in this way they will be paid + for.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate began to remonstrate. He certainly did not refuse to pay, + only he thought he ought to be consulted when any purchases were made. He + didn’t like this way of disposing of his money. + </p> + <p> + “What a fellow!” said the usurer, shrugging his shoulders; “do you want to + make the girl unhappy for nothing at all? She won’t let you off yet, my + friend. You may be quite sure she will eat up your new fortune also. And + you know, if you need any money for the wedding, you have but to give me + some guarantee. Procure me an introduction to the notary, and everything + shall be arranged. But I must go. On Monday then.” + </p> + <p> + Noel listened, to make sure that the usurer had actually gone. When he + heard him descending the staircase, “Scoundrel!” he cried, “miserable + thieving old skinflint! Didn’t he need a lot of persuading? He had quite + made up his mind to sue me. It would have been a pleasant thing had the + count come to hear of it. Vile usurer! I was afraid, one moment, of being + obliged to tell him all.” + </p> + <p> + While inveighing thus against the money-lender, the advocate looked at his + watch. + </p> + <p> + “Half-past five already,” he said. + </p> + <p> + His indecision was great. Ought he to go and dine with his father? Could + he leave Madame Gerdy? He longed to dine at the de Commarin mansion; yet, + on the other hand, to leave a dying woman! + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly,” he murmured, “I can’t go.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down at his desk, and with all haste wrote a letter of apology to + his father. Madame Gerdy, he said, might die at any moment; he must remain + with her. As he bade the servant give the note to a messenger, to carry it + to the count, a sudden thought seemed to strike him. + </p> + <p> + “Does madame’s brother,” he asked, “know that she is dangerously ill?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, sir,” replied the servant, “at any rate, I have not + informed him.” + </p> + <p> + “What, did you not think to send him word? Run to his house quickly. Have + him sought for, if he is not at home; he must come.” + </p> + <p> + Considerably more at ease, Noel went and sat in the sick-room. The lamp + was lighted; and the nun was moving about the room as though quite at + home, dusting and arranging everything, and putting it in its place. She + wore an air of satisfaction, that Noel did not fail to notice. + </p> + <p> + “Have we any gleam of hope, sister?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” replied the nun. “The priest has been here, sir; your dear + mother did not notice his presence; but he is coming back. That is not + all. Since the priest was here, the poultice has taken admirably. The skin + is quite reddened. I am sure she feels it.” + </p> + <p> + “God grant that she does, sister!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have already been praying! But it is important not to leave her + alone a minute. I have arranged all with the servant. After the doctor has + been, I shall lie down, and she will watch until one in the morning. I + will then take her place and—” + </p> + <p> + “You shall both go to bed, sister,” interrupted Noel, sadly. “It is I, who + could not sleep a wink, who will watch through this night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <p> + Old Tabaret did not consider himself defeated, because he had been + repulsed by the investigating magistrate, already irritated by a long + day’s examination. You may call it a fault, or an accomplishment; but the + old man was more obstinate than a mule. To the excess of despair to which + he succumbed in the passage outside the magistrate’s office, there soon + succeeded that firm resolution which is the enthusiasm called forth by + danger. The feeling of duty got the upper hand. Was it a time to yield to + unworthy despair, when the life of a fellow-man depended on each minute? + Inaction would be unpardonable. He had plunged an innocent man into the + abyss; and he must draw him out, he alone, if no one would help him. Old + Tabaret, as well as the magistrate, was greatly fatigued. On reaching the + open air, he perceived that he, too, was in want of food. The emotions of + the day had prevented him from feeling hungry; and, since the previous + evening, he had not even taken a glass of water. He entered a restaurant + on the Boulevard, and ordered dinner. + </p> + <p> + While eating, not only his courage, but also his confidence came + insensibly back to him. It was with him, as with the rest of mankind; who + knows how much one’s ideas may change, from the beginning to the end of a + repast, be it ever so modest! A philosopher has plainly demonstrated that + heroism is but an affair of the stomach. + </p> + <p> + The old fellow looked at the situation in a much less sombre light. He had + plenty of time before him! A clever man could accomplish a great deal in a + month! Would his usual penetration fail him now? Certainly not. His great + regret was, his inability to let Albert know that some one was working for + him. + </p> + <p> + He was entirely another man, as he rose from the table; and it was with a + sprightly step that he walked towards the Rue St. Lazare. Nine o’clock + struck as the concierge opened the door for him. He went at once up to the + fourth floor to inquire after the health of his former friend, her whom he + used to call the excellent, the worthy Madame Gerdy. + </p> + <p> + It was Noel who let him in, Noel, who had doubtless been thinking of the + past, for he looked as sad as though the dying woman was really his + mother. + </p> + <p> + In consequence of this unexpected circumstance, old Tabaret could not + avoid going in for a few minutes, though he would much have preferred not + doing so. He knew very well, that, being with the advocate, he would be + unavoidably led to speak of the Lerouge case; and how could he do this, + knowing, as he did, the particulars much better than his young friend + himself, without betraying his secret? A single imprudent word might + reveal the part he was playing in this sad drama. It was, above all + others, from his dear Noel, now Viscount de Commarin, that he wished + entirely to conceal his connection with the police. + </p> + <p> + But, on the other hand, he thirsted to know what had passed between the + advocate and the count. His ignorance on this single point aroused his + curiosity. However, as he could not withdraw he resolved to keep close + watch upon his language and remain constantly on his guard. + </p> + <p> + The advocate ushered the old man into Madame Gerdy’s room. Her condition, + since the afternoon, had changed a little; though it was impossible to say + whether for the better or the worse. One thing was evident, her + prostration was not so great. Her eyes still remained closed; but a slight + quivering of the lids was evident. She constantly moved on her pillow, and + moaned feebly. + </p> + <p> + “What does the doctor say?” asked old Tabaret, in that low voice one + unconsciously employs in a sick room. + </p> + <p> + “He has just gone,” replied Noel; “before long all will be over.” + </p> + <p> + The old man advanced on tip-toe, and looked at the dying woman with + evident emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Poor creature!” he murmured; “God is merciful in taking her. She perhaps + suffers much; but what is this pain compared to what she would feel if she + knew that her son, her true son, was in prison, accused of murder?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I keep thinking,” said Noel, “to console myself for this + sight. For I still love her, my old friend; I shall always regard her as a + mother. You have heard me curse her, have you not? I have twice treated + her very harshly. I thought I hated her; but now, at the moment of losing + her, I forget every wrong she has done me, only to remember her + tenderness. Yes, for her, death is far preferable! And yet I do not think, + no, I cannot think her son guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “No! what, you too?” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret put so much warmth and vivacity into this exclamation, that + Noel looked at him with astonishment. He felt his face grow red, and he + hastened to explain himself. “I said, ‘you too,’” he continued, “because + I, thanks perhaps to my inexperience, am persuaded also of this young + man’s innocence. I cannot in the least imagine a man of his rank + meditating and accomplishing so cowardly a crime. I have spoken with many + persons on this matter which has made so much noise; and everybody is of + my opinion. He has public opinion in his favor; that is already + something.” + </p> + <p> + Seated near the bed, sufficiently far from the lamp to be in the shade, + the nun hastily knitted stockings destined for the poor. It was a purely + mechanical work, during which she usually prayed. But, since old Tabaret + entered the room, she forgot her everlasting prayers whilst listening to + the conversation. What did it all mean? Who could this woman be? And this + young man who was not her son, and who yet called her mother, and at the + same time spoke of a true son accused of being an assassin? Before this + she had overheard mysterious remarks pass between Noel and the doctor. + Into what strange house had she entered? She was a little afraid; and her + conscience was sorely troubled. Was she not sinning? She resolved to tell + all to the priest, when he returned. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Noel, “no, M. Tabaret; Albert has not public opinion for him. + We are sharper than that in France, as you know. When a poor devil is + arrested, entirely innocent, perhaps, of the crime charged against him, we + are always ready to throw stones at him. We keep all our pity for him, + who, without doubt guilty, appears before the court of assize. As long as + the justice hesitates, we side with the prosecution against the prisoner. + The moment it is proved that the man is a villain, all our sympathies are + in his favour. That is public opinion. You understand, however, that it + affects me but little. I despise it to such an extent, that if, as I dare + still hope, Albert is not released, I will defend him. Yes, I have told + the Count de Commarin, my father, as much. I will be his counsel, and I + will save him.” + </p> + <p> + Gladly would the old man have thrown himself on Noel’s neck. He longed to + say to him: “We will save him together.” But he restrained himself. Would + not the advocate despise him, if he told him his secret! He resolved, + however, to reveal all should it become necessary, or should Albert’s + position become worse. For the time being, he contented himself with + strongly approving his young friend. + </p> + <p> + “Bravo! my boy,” said he; “you have a noble heart. I feared to see you + spoiled by wealth and rank; pardon me. You will remain, I see, what you + have always been in your more humble position. But, tell me, you have, + then, seen your father, the count?” + </p> + <p> + Now, for the first time, Noel seemed to notice the nun’s eyes, which, + lighted by eager curiosity, glittered in the shadow like carbuncles. With + a look, he drew the old man’s attention to her, and said: “I have seen + him; and everything is arranged to my satisfaction. I will tell you all, + in detail, by-and-by, when we are more at ease. By this bedside, I am + almost ashamed of my happiness.” + </p> + <p> + M. Tabaret was obliged to content himself with this reply and this + promise. Seeing that he would learn nothing that evening, he spoke of + going to bed, declaring himself tired out by what he had had to do during + the day. Noel did not ask him to stop. He was expecting, he said, Madame + Gerdy’s brother, who had been sent for several times, but who was not at + home. He hardly knew how he could again meet this brother, he added: he + did not yet know what conduct he ought to pursue. Should he tell him all? + It would only increase his grief. On the other hand, silence would oblige + him to play a difficult part. The old man advised him to say nothing; he + could explain all later on. + </p> + <p> + “What a fine fellow Noel is!” murmured old Tabaret, as he regained his + apartments as quietly as possible. He had been absent from home + twenty-four hours; and he fully expected a formidable scene with his + housekeeper. Mannette was decidedly out of temper, and declared once for + all, that she would certainly seek a new place if her master did not + change his conduct. + </p> + <p> + She had remained up all night, in a terrible fright, listening to the + least sound on the stairs, expecting every moment to see her master + brought home on a litter, assassinated. There had been great commotion in + the house. M. Gerdy had gone down a short time after her master, and she + had seen him return two hours later. After that, they had sent for the + doctor. Such goings on would be the death of her, without counting that + her constitution was too weak to allow her to sit up so late. But Mannette + forgot that she did not sit up on her master’s account nor on Noel’s but + was expecting one of her old friends, one of those handsome Gardes de + Paris who had promised to marry her, and for whom she had waited in vain, + the rascal! + </p> + <p> + She burst forth in reproaches, while she prepared her master’s bed, too + sincere, she declared, to keep anything on her mind, or to keep her mouth + closed, when it was a question of his health and reputation. M. Tabaret + made no reply, not being in the mood for argument. He bent his head to the + storm, and turned his back to the hail. But, as soon as Mannette had + finished what she was about, he put her out of the room, and double locked + the door. + </p> + <p> + He busied himself in forming a new line of battle, and in deciding upon + prompt and active measures. He rapidly examined the situation. Had he been + deceived in his investigations? No. Were his calculations of probabilities + erroneous? No. He had started with a positive fact, the murder. He had + discovered the particulars; his inferences were correct, and the criminal + was evidently such as he had described him. The man M. Daburon had had + arrested could not be the criminal. His confidence in a judicial axiom had + led him astray, when he pointed to Albert. + </p> + <p> + “That,” thought he, “is the result of following accepted opinions and + those absurd phrases, all ready to hand, which are like mile-stones along + a fool’s road! Left free to my own inspirations, I should have examined + this case more thoroughly, I would have left nothing to chance. The + formula, ‘Seek out the one whom the crime benefits’ may often be as absurd + as true. The heirs of a man assassinated are in reality all benefited by + the murder; while the assassin obtains at most the victim’s watch and + purse. Three persons were interested in Widow Lerouge’s death:—Albert, + Madame Gerdy, and the Count de Commarin. It is plain to me that Albert is + not the criminal. It is not Madame Gerdy, who is dying from the shock + caused by the unexpected announcement of the crime. There remains, then, + the Count. Can it be he? If so, he certainly did not do it himself. He + must have hired some wretch, a wretch of good position, if you please, + wearing patent leather boots of a good make, and smoking trabucos cigars + with an amber mouth-piece. These well-dressed villains ordinarily lack + nerve. They cheat, they forge; but they don’t assassinate. Supposing, + though, that the count did get hold of some dare-devil fellow. He would + simply have replaced one accomplice by another still more dangerous. That + would be idiotic, and the count is a sensible man. He, therefore, had + nothing whatever to do with the matter. To be quite sure though, I will + make some inquiries about him. Another thing, Widow Lerouge, who so + readily exchanged the children while nursing them, would be very likely to + undertake a number of other dangerous commissions. Who can say that she + has not obliged other persons who had an equal interest in getting rid of + her? There is a secret, I am getting at it, but I do not hold it yet. One + thing is certain though, she was not assassinated to prevent Noel + recovering his rights. She must have been suppressed for some analogous + reason, by a bold and experienced scoundrel, prompted by similar motives + to those of which I suspected Albert. It is, then, in that direction that + I must follow up the case now. And, above all, I must obtain the past + history of this obliging widow, and I will have it too, for in all + probability the particulars which have been written for from her + birthplace will arrive tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + Returning to Albert, old Tabaret weighed the charges which were brought + against the young man, and reckoned the chances which he still had in + favour of his release. + </p> + <p> + “From the look of things,” he murmured, “I see only luck and myself, that + is to say absolutely nothing, in his favor at present. As to the charges, + they are countless. However, it is no use going over them. It is I who + amassed them; and I know what they are worth! At once everything and + nothing. What do signs prove, however striking they may be, in cases where + one ought to disbelieve even the evidence of one’s own senses? Albert is a + victim of the most remarkable coincidences; but one word might explain + them. There have been many such cases. It was even worse in the matter of + the little tailor. At five o’clock, he bought a knife, which he showed to + ten of his friends, saying, ‘This is for my wife, who is an idle jade, and + plays me false with my workmen.’ In the evening, the neighbours heard a + terrible quarrel between the couple, cries, threats, stampings, blows; + then suddenly all was quiet. The next day, the tailor had disappeared from + his home, and the wife was discovered dead, with the very same knife + buried to the hilt between her shoulders. Ah, well! it turned out it was + not the husband who had stuck it there; it was a jealous lover. After + that, what is to be believed? Albert, it is true, will not give an account + of how he passed Tuesday evening. That does not affect me. The question + for me is not to prove where he was, but that he was not at La Jonchere. + Perhaps, after all, Gevrol is on the right track. I hope so, from the + bottom of my heart. Yes; God grant that he may be successful. My vanity + and my mad presumption will deserve the slight punishment of his triumph + over me. What would I not give to establish this man’s innocence? Half of + my fortune would be but a small sacrifice. If I should not succeed! If, + after having caused the evil, I should find myself powerless to undo it!” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret went to bed, shuddering at this last thought. He fell asleep, + and had a terrible nightmare. Lost in that vulgar crowd, which, on the + days when society revenges itself, presses about the Place de la Rouquette + and watches the last convulsions of one condemned to death, he attended + Albert’s execution. He saw the unhappy man, his hands bound behind his + back, his collar turned down, ascend, supported by a priest, the steep + flight of steps leading on to the scaffold. He saw him standing upon the + fatal platform, turning his proud gaze upon the terrified assembly beneath + him. Soon the eyes of the condemned man met his own; and, bursting his + cords, he pointed him, Tabaret, out to the crowd, crying, in a loud voice: + “That man is my assassin.” Then a great clamour arose to curse the + detective. He wished to escape; but his feet seemed fixed to the ground. + He tried at least to close his eyes; he could not. A power unknown and + irresistible compelled him to look. Then Albert again cried out: “I am + innocent; the guilty one is——” He pronounced a name; the crowd + repeated this name, and he alone did not catch what it was. At last the + head of the condemned man fell. + </p> + <p> + M. Tabaret uttered a loud cry, and awoke in a cold perspiration. It took + him some time to convince himself that nothing was real of what he had + just heard and seen, and that he was actually in his own house, in his own + bed. It was only a dream! But dreams sometimes are, they say, warnings + from heaven. His imagination was so struck with what had just happened + that he made unheard of efforts to recall the name pronounced by Albert. + Not succeeding, he got up and lighted his candle. The darkness made him + afraid, the night was full of phantoms. It was no longer with him a + question of sleep. Beset with these anxieties, he accused himself most + severely, and harshly reproached himself for the occupation he had until + then so delighted in. Poor humanity! + </p> + <p> + He was evidently stark mad the day when he first had the idea of seeking + employment in the Rue de Jerusalem. A noble hobby, truly, for a man of his + age, a good quiet citizen of Paris, rich, and esteemed by all! And to + think that he had been proud of his exploits, that he had boasted of his + cunning, that he had plumed himself on his keenness of scent, that he had + been flattered by that ridiculous sobriquet, “Tirauclair.” Old fool! What + could he hope to gain from that bloodhound calling? All sorts of + annoyance, the contempt of the world, without counting the danger of + contributing to the conviction of an innocent man. Why had he not taken + warning by the little tailor’s case. + </p> + <p> + Recalling his few satisfactions of the past, and comparing them with his + present anguish, he resolved that he would have no more to do with it. + Albert once saved, he would seek some less dangerous amusement, and one + more generally appreciated. He would break the connection of which he was + ashamed, and the police and justice might get on the best they could + without him. + </p> + <p> + At last the day, which he had awaited with feverish impatience, dawned. To + pass the time, he dressed himself slowly, with much care, trying to occupy + his mind with needless details, and to deceive himself as to the time by + looking constantly at the clock, to see if it had not stopped. In spite of + all this delay, it was not eight o’clock when he presented himself at the + magistrate’s house, begging him to excuse, on account of the importance of + his business, a visit too early not to be indiscreet. + </p> + <p> + Excuses were superfluous. M. Daburon was never disturbed by a call at + eight o’clock in the morning. He was already at work. He received the old + amateur detective with his usual kindness, and even joked with him a + little about his excitement of the previous evening. Who would have + thought his nerves were so sensitive? Doubtless the night had brought + deliberation. Had he recovered his reason? or had he put his hand on the + true criminal? + </p> + <p> + This trifling tone in a magistrate, who was accused of being grave even to + a fault, troubled the old man. Did not this quizzing hide a determination + not to be influenced by anything that he could say? He believed it did; + and it was without the least deception that he commenced his pleading. + </p> + <p> + He put the case more calmly this time, but with all the energy of a + well-digested conviction. He had appealed to the heart, he now appealed to + reason; but, although doubt is essentially contagious, he neither + succeeded in convincing the magistrate, nor in shaking his opinion. His + strongest arguments were of no more avail against M. Daburon’s absolute + conviction than bullets made of bread crumbs would be against a + breastplate. And there was nothing very surprising in that. + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret had on his side only a subtle theory, mere words; M. Daburon + possessed palpable testimony, facts. And such was the peculiarity of the + case, that all the reasons brought forward by the old man to justify + Albert simply reacted against him, and confirmed his guilt. + </p> + <p> + A repulse at the magistrate’s hands had entered too much into M. Tabaret’s + anticipations for him to appear troubled or discouraged. He declared that, + for the present, he would insist no more; he had full confidence in the + magistrate’s wisdom and impartiality. All he wished was to put him on his + guard against the presumptions which he himself unfortunately had taken + such pains to inspire. + </p> + <p> + He was going, he added, to busy himself with obtaining more information. + They were only at the beginning of the investigation; and they were still + ignorant of very many things, even of Widow Lerouge’s past life. More + facts might come to light. Who knew what testimony the man with the + earrings, who was being pursued by Gevrol, might give? Though in a great + rage internally, and longing to insult and chastise he whom he inwardly + styled a “fool of a magistrate,” old Tabaret forced himself to be humble + and polite. He wished, he said, to keep well posted up in the different + phases of the investigation, and to be informed of the result of future + interrogations. He ended by asking permission to communicate with Albert. + He thought his services deserved this slight favour. He desired an + interview of only ten minutes without witnesses. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon refused this request. He declared, that, for the present, the + prisoner must continue to remain strictly in solitary confinement. By way + of consolation, he added that, in three or four days, he might perhaps be + able to reconsider this decision, as the motives which prompted it would + then no longer exist. + </p> + <p> + “Your refusal is cruel, sir,” said M. Tabaret; “but I understand it, and + submit.” + </p> + <p> + That was his only complaint: and he withdrew almost immediately, fearing + that he could no longer master his indignation. He felt that, besides the + great happiness of saving an innocent man, compromised by his imprudence, + he would experience unspeakable delight in avenging himself for the + magistrate’s obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + “Three or four days,” he muttered, “that is the same as three or four + years to the unfortunate prisoner. He takes things quite at his ease, this + charming magistrate. But I must find out the real truth of the case + between now and then.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, M. Daburon only required three or four days to wring a confession + from Albert, or at least to make him abandon his system of defence. + </p> + <p> + The difficulty of the prosecution was not being able to produce any + witness who had seen the prisoner during the evening of Shrove Tuesday. + </p> + <p> + One deposition alone to that effect would have such great weight, that M. + Daburon, as soon as Tabaret had left him, turned all his attention in that + direction. He could still hope for a great deal. It was only Saturday, the + day of the murder was remarkable enough to fix people’s memories, and up + till then there had not been time to start a proper investigation. + </p> + <p> + He arranged for five of the most experienced detectives in the secret + service to be sent to Bougival, supplied with photographs of the prisoner. + They were to scour the entire country between Rueil and La Jonchere, to + inquire everywhere, and make the most minute investigations. The + photographs would greatly aid their efforts. They had orders to show them + everywhere and to everybody and even to leave a dozen about the + neighbourhood, as they were furnished with a sufficient number to do so. + It was impossible, that, on an evening when so many people were about, no + one had noticed the original of the portrait either at the railway station + at Rueil or upon one of the roads which lead to La Jonchere, the high + road, and the path by the river. + </p> + <p> + These arrangements made, the investigating magistrate proceeded to the + Palais de Justice, and sent for Albert. He had already in the morning + received a report, informing him hour by hour of the acts, gestures, and + utterances of the prisoner, who had been carefully watched. Nothing in + him, the report said, betrayed the criminal. He seemed very sad, but not + despairing. He had not cried out, nor threatened, nor cursed justice, nor + even spoken of a fatal error. After eating lightly, he had gone to the + window of his cell, and had there remained standing for more than an hour. + Then he laid down, and had quietly gone to sleep. + </p> + <p> + “What an iron constitution!” thought M. Daburon, when the prisoner entered + his office. + </p> + <p> + Albert was no longer the despairing man who, the night before, bewildered + with the multiplicity of charges, surprised by the rapidity with which + they were brought against him, had writhed beneath the magistrate’s gaze, + and appeared ready to succumb. Innocent or guilty, he had made up his mind + how to act; his face left no doubt of that. His eyes expressed that cold + resolution of a sacrifice freely made, and a certain haughtiness which + might be taken for disdain, but which expressed the noble resentment of an + injured man. In him could be seen the self-reliant man, who might be + shaken but never overcome by misfortune. + </p> + <p> + On beholding him, the magistrate understood that he would have to change + his mode of attack. He recognized one of those natures which are provoked + to resistance when assailed, and strengthened when menaced. He therefore + gave up his former tactics, and attempted to move him by kindness. It was + a hackneyed trick, but almost always successful, like certain pathetic + scenes at theatres. The criminal who has girt up his energy to sustain the + shock of intimidation, finds himself without defence against the wheedling + of kindness, the greater in proportion to its lack of sincerity. Now M. + Daburon excelled in producing affecting scenes. What confessions he had + obtained with a few tears! No one knew so well as he how to touch those + old chords which vibrate still even in the most corrupt hearts: honour, + love, and family ties. + </p> + <p> + With Albert, he became kind and friendly, and full of the liveliest + compassion. Unfortunate man! how greatly he must suffer, he whose whole + life had been like one long enchantment. How at a single blow everything + about him had fallen in ruins. Who could have foreseen all this at the + time when he was the one hope of a wealthy and illustrious house! + Recalling the past, the magistrate pictured to him the most touching + reminiscences of his early youth, and stirred up the ashes of all his + extinct affections. Taking advantage of all that he knew of the prisoner’s + life, he tortured him by the most mournful allusions to Claire. Why did he + persist in bearing alone his great misfortune? Had he no one in the world + who would deem it happiness to share his sufferings? Why this morose + silence? Should he not rather hasten to reassure her whose very life + depended upon his? What was necessary for that? A single word. Then he + would be, if not free, at least returned to the world. His prison would + become a habitable abode, no more solitary confinement; his friends would + visit him, he might receive whomsoever he wished to see. + </p> + <p> + It was no longer the magistrate who spoke; it was a father, who, no matter + what happens, always keeps in the recesses of his heart, the greatest + indulgence for his child. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon did even more. For a moment he imagined himself in Albert’s + position. What would he have done after the terrible revelation? He + scarcely dared ask himself. He understood the motive which prompted the + murder of Widow Lerouge; he could explain it to himself; he could almost + excuse it. (Another trap.) It was certainly a great crime, but in no way + revolting to conscience or to reason. It was one of those crimes which + society might, if not forget, at least forgive up to a certain point, + because the motive was not a shameful one. What tribunal would fail to + find extenuating circumstances for a moment of frenzy so excusable. + Besides was not the Count de Commarin the more guilty of the two? Was it + not his folly that prepared the way for this terrible event? His son was + the victim of fatality, and was in the highest degree to be pitied. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon spoke for a long time upon this text, seeking those things most + suitable in his opinion to soften the hardened heart of an assassin. And + he arrived always at the same conclusion,—the wisdom of confessing. + But he wasted his eloquence precisely as M. Tabaret had wasted his. Albert + appeared in no way affected. His answers were of the shortest. He began + and ended as on the first occasion, by protesting his innocence. + </p> + <p> + One test, which has often given the desired result, still remained to be + tried. + </p> + <p> + On this same day, Saturday, Albert was confronted with the corpse of Widow + Lerouge. He appeared impressed by the sad sight, but no more than anyone + would be, if forced to look at the victim of an assassination four days + after the crime. One of the bystanders having exclaimed: “Ah, if she could + but speak!” he replied: “That would be very fortunate for me.” + </p> + <p> + Since morning, M. Daburon had not gained the least advantage. He had had + to acknowledge the failure of his manoeuvres; and now this last attempt + had not succeeded either. The prisoner’s continued calmness filled to + overflowing the exasperation of this man so sure of his guilt. His spite + was evident to all, when, suddenly ceasing his wheedling, he harshly gave + the order to re-conduct the prisoner to his cell. + </p> + <p> + “I will compel him to confess!” he muttered between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps he regretted those gentle instruments of investigation of the + middle ages, which compelled the prisoner to say whatever one wished to + hear. Never, thought he, did any one ever meet a culprit like this. What + could he reasonably hope for from his system of persistent denial? This + obstinacy, absurd in the presence of such absolute proofs, drove the + magistrate into a rage. Had Albert confessed his guilt, he would have + found M. Daburon disposed to pity him; but as he denied it, he opposed + himself to an implacable enemy. + </p> + <p> + It was the very falseness of the situation which misled and blinded this + magistrate, naturally so kind and generous. Having previously wished + Albert innocent, he now absolutely longed to prove him guilty, and that + for a hundred reasons which he was unable to analyze. He remembered, too + well, his having had the Viscount de Commarin for a rival, and his having + nearly assassinated him. Had he not repented even to remorse his having + signed the warrant of arrest, and his having accepted the duty of + investigating the case. Old Tabaret’s incomprehensible change of opinion + troubled him, too. + </p> + <p> + All these feelings combined, inspired M. Daburon with a feverish hatred, + and urged him on in the path which he had chosen. It was now less the + proofs of Albert’s guilt which he sought for than the justification of his + own conduct as magistrate. The investigation became embittered like a + personal matter. + </p> + <p> + In fact, were the prisoner innocent, he would become inexcusable in his + own eyes; and, in proportion as he reproached himself the more severely, + and as the knowledge of his own failings grew, he felt the more disposed + to try everything to conquer his former rival, even to abusing his own + power. The logic of events urged him on. It seemed as though his honour + itself was at stake; and he displayed a passionate activity, such as he + had never before been known to show in any investigation. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon passed all Sunday in listening to the reports of the detectives + he had sent to Bougival. + </p> + <p> + They had spared no trouble, they stated, but they could report nothing + new. + </p> + <p> + They had heard many people speak of a woman, who pretended, they said, to + have seen the assassin leave Widow Lerouge’s cottage; but no one had been + able to point this woman out to them, or even to give them her name. + </p> + <p> + They all thought it their duty, however, to inform the magistrate that + another inquiry was going on at the same time as theirs. It was directed + by M. Tabaret, who personally scoured the country round about in a + cabriolet drawn by a very swift horse. He must have acted with great + promptness; for, no matter where they went, he had been there before them. + He appeared to have under his orders a dozen men, four of whom at least + certainly belonged to the Rue de Jerusalem. All the detectives had met + him; and he had spoken to them. To one, he had said: “What the deuce are + you showing this photograph for? In less than no time you will have a + crowd of witnesses, who, to earn three francs, will describe some one more + like the portrait than the portrait itself.” + </p> + <p> + He had met another on the high-road, and had laughed at him. + </p> + <p> + “You are a simple fellow,” he cried out, “to hunt for a hiding man on the + high-way; look a little aside, and you may find him.” + </p> + <p> + Again he had accosted two who were together in a cafe at Bougival, and had + taken them aside. + </p> + <p> + “I have him,” he said to them. “He is a smart fellow; he came by Chatois. + Three people have seen him—two railway porters and a third person + whose testimony will be decisive, for she spoke to him. He was smoking.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon became so angry with old Tabaret, that he immediately started + for Bougival, firmly resolved to bring the too zealous man back to Paris, + and to report his conduct in the proper quarter. The journey, however, was + useless. M. Tabaret, the cabriolet, the swift horse, and the twelve men + had all disappeared, or at least were not to be found. + </p> + <p> + On returning home, greatly fatigued, and very much out of temper, the + investigating magistrate found the following telegram from the chief of + the detective force awaiting him; it was brief, but to the point: + </p> + <p> + “ROUEN, Sunday. + </p> + <p> + “The man is found. This evening we start for Paris. The most valuable + testimony. GEVROL.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. + </h2> + <p> + On the Monday morning, at nine o’clock, M. Daburon was preparing to start + for the Palais de Justice, where he expected to find Gevrol and his man, + and perhaps old Tabaret. His preparations were nearly made, when his + servant announced that a young lady, accompanied by another considerably + older, asked to speak with him. She declined giving her name, saying, + however, that she would not refuse it, if it was absolutely necessary in + order to be received. + </p> + <p> + “Show them in,” said the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + He thought it must be a relation of one or other of the prisoners, whose + case he had had in hand when this fresh crime occurred. He determined to + send her away quickly. He was standing before the fireplace, seeking for + an address in a small china plate filled with visiting cards. At the sound + of the opening of the door, at the rustling of a silk dress gliding by the + window, he did not take the trouble to move, nor deign even to turn his + head. He contented himself with merely casting a careless glance into the + mirror. + </p> + <p> + But he immediately started with a movement of dismay, as if he had seen a + ghost. In his confusion, he dropped the card-plate, which fell noisily on + to the hearth, and broke into a thousand pieces. + </p> + <p> + “Claire!” he stammered, “Claire!” + </p> + <p> + And as if he feared equally either being deceived by an illusion or + actually seeing her whose name he had uttered, he turned slowly round. + </p> + <p> + It was truly Mademoiselle d’Arlange. This young girl, usually so proud and + reserved, had had the courage to come to his house alone, or almost so, + for her governess, whom she had left in the ante-room, could hardly count. + She was evidently obeying some powerful emotion, since it made her forget + her habitual timidity. + </p> + <p> + Never, even in the time when a sight of her was his greatest happiness, + had she appeared to him more fascinating. Her beauty, ordinarily veiled by + a sweet sadness, was bright and shining. Her features had an animation + which he had never seen in them before. In her eyes, rendered more + brilliant by recent tears but partly wiped away, shone the noblest + resolution. One could see that she was conscious of performing a great + duty, and that she performed it, if not with pleasure, at least with that + simplicity which in itself is heroism. + </p> + <p> + She advanced calm and dignified, and held out her hand to the magistrate + in that English style that some ladies can render so gracefully. + </p> + <p> + “We are always friends, are we not?” asked she, with a sad smile. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate did not dare take the ungloved hand she held out to him. He + scarcely touched it with the tips of his fingers, as though he feared too + great an emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied indistinctly, “I am always devoted to you.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange sat down in the large armchair, where, two nights + previously, old Tabaret had planned Albert’s arrest. M. Daburon remained + standing leaning against his writing-table. + </p> + <p> + “You know why I have come?” asked the young girl. + </p> + <p> + With a nod, he replied in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + He divined her object only too easily; and he was asking himself whether + he would be able to resist prayers from such a mouth. What was she about + to ask of him? What could he refuse her? Ah, if he had but foreseen this? + He had not yet got over his surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I only knew of this dreadful event yesterday,” pursued Claire; “my + grandmother considered it best to hide it from me, and, but for my devoted + Schmidt, I should still be ignorant of it all. What a night I have passed! + At first I was terrified; but, when they told me that all depended upon + you, my fears were dispelled. It is for my sake, is it not, that you have + undertaken this investigation? Oh, you are good, I know it! How can I ever + express my gratitude?” + </p> + <p> + What humiliation for the worthy magistrate were these heartfelt thanks! + Yes, he had at first thought of Mademoiselle d’Arlange, but since—He + bowed his head to avoid Claire’s glance, so pure and so daring. + </p> + <p> + “Do not thank me, mademoiselle,” he stammered, “I have not the claim that + you think upon your gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + Claire had been too troubled herself, at first, to notice the magistrate’s + agitation. The trembling of his voice attracted her attention; but she did + not suspect the cause. She thought that her presence recalled sad + memories, that he doubtless still loved her, and that he suffered. This + idea saddened her, and filled her with self-reproach. + </p> + <p> + “And yet, sir,” she continued, “I thank you all the same. I might never + have dared go to another magistrate, to speak to a stranger! Besides, what + value would another attach to my words, not knowing me? While you, so + generous, will re-assure me, will tell me by what awful mistake he has + been arrested like a villain and thrown into prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” sighed the magistrate, so low that Claire scarcely heard him, and + did not understand the terrible meaning of the exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “With you,” she continued, “I am not afraid. You are my friend, you told + me so; you will not refuse my prayers. Give him his liberty quickly. I do + not know exactly of what he is accused, but I swear to you that he is + innocent.” + </p> + <p> + Claire spoke in the positive manner of one who saw no obstacle in the way + of the very simple and natural desire which she had expressed. A formal + assurance given by her ought to be amply sufficient; with a word, M. + Daburon would repair everything. The magistrate was silent. He admired + that saint-like ignorance of everything, that artless and frank confidence + which doubted nothing. She had commenced by wounding him, unconsciously, + it is true, but he had quite forgotten that. + </p> + <p> + He was really an upright man, as good as the best, as is proved from the + fact that he trembled at the moment of unveiling the fatal truth. He + hesitated to pronounce the words which, like a whirlwind, would overturn + the fragile edifice of this young girl’s happiness. He who had been so + humiliated, so despised, he was going to have his revenge; and yet he did + not experience the least feeling of a shameful, though easily understood, + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “And if I should tell you, mademoiselle,” he commenced, “that M. Albert is + not innocent?” + </p> + <p> + She half-raised herself with a protesting gesture. + </p> + <p> + He continued, “If I should tell you that he is guilty?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir!” interrupted Claire, “you cannot think so!” + </p> + <p> + “I do think so, mademoiselle,” exclaimed the magistrate in a sad voice, + “and I must add that I am morally certain of it.” + </p> + <p> + Claire looked at the investigating magistrate with profound amazement. + Could it be really he who was speaking thus. Had she heard him aright? Did + she understand? She was far from sure. Had he answered seriously? Was he + not deluding her by a cruel unworthy jest? She asked herself this scarcely + knowing what she did: for to her everything appeared possible, probable, + rather than that which he had said. + </p> + <p> + Not daring to raise his eyes, he continued in a tone, expressive of the + sincerest pity, “I suffer cruelly for you at this moment, mademoiselle; + but I have the sad courage to tell you the truth, and you must summon + yours to hear it. It is far better that you should know everything from + the mouth of a friend. Summon, then, all your fortitude; strengthen your + noble soul against a most dreadful misfortune. No, there is no mistake. + Justice has not been deceived. The Viscount de Commarin is accused of an + assassination; and everything, you understand me, proves that he committed + it.” + </p> + <p> + Like a doctor, who pours out drop by drop a dangerous medicine, M. Daburon + pronounced this last sentence slowly, word by word. He watched carefully + the result, ready to cease speaking, if the shock was too great. He did + not suppose that this young girl, timid to excess, with a sensitiveness + almost a disease, would be able to hear without flinching such a terrible + revelation. He expected a burst of despair, tears, distressing cries. She + might perhaps faint away; and he stood ready to call in the worthy + Schmidt. + </p> + <p> + He was mistaken. Claire drew herself up full of energy and courage. The + flame of indignation flushed her cheeks, and dried her tears. + </p> + <p> + “It is false,” she cried, “and those who say it are liars! He cannot be—no, + he cannot be an assassin. If he were here, sir, and should himself say, + ‘It is true,’ I would refuse to believe it; I would still cry out, ‘It is + false!’” + </p> + <p> + “He has not yet admitted it,” continued the magistrate, “but he will + confess. Even if he should not, there are more proofs than are needed to + convict him. The charges against him are as impossible to deny as is the + sun which shines upon us.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well,” interrupted Mademoiselle d’Arlange, in a voice filled with + emotion, “I assert, I repeat, that justice is deceived. Yes,” she + persisted, in answer to the magistrate’s gesture of denial, “yes, he is + innocent. I am sure of it; and I would proclaim it, even were the whole + world to join with you in accusing him. Do you not see that I know him + better even than he can know himself, that my faith in him is absolute, as + is my faith in God, that I would doubt myself before doubting him?” + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate attempted timidly to make an objection; + Claire quickly interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Must I then, sir,” said she, “in order to convince you, forget that I am + a young girl, and that I am not talking to my mother, but to a man! For + his sake I will do so. It is four years, sir, since we first loved each + other. Since that time, I have not kept a single one of my thoughts from + him, nor has he hid one of his from me. For four years, there has never + been a secret between us; he lived in me, as I lived in him. I alone can + say how worthy he is to be loved; I alone know all that grandeur of soul, + nobleness of thought, generosity of feelings, out of which you have so + easily made an assassin. And I have seen him, oh! so unhappy, while all + the world envied his lot. He is, like me, alone in the world; his father + never loved him. Sustained one by the other, we have passed through many + unhappy days; and it is at the very moment our trials are ending that he + has become a criminal? Why? tell me, why?” + </p> + <p> + “Neither the name nor the fortune of the Count de Commarin would descend + to him, mademoiselle; and the knowledge of it came upon him with a sudden + shock. One old woman alone was able to prove this. To maintain his + position, he killed her.” + </p> + <p> + “What infamy,” cried the young girl, “what a shameful, wicked, calumny! I + know, sir, that story of fallen greatness; he himself told me of it. It is + true, that for three days this misfortune unmanned him; but, if he was + dismayed, it was on my account more than his own. He was distressed at + thinking that perhaps I should be grieved, when he confessed to me that he + could no longer give me all that his love dreamed of. I grieved? Ah! what + to me are that great name, that immense wealth? I owe to them the only + unhappiness I have ever known. Was it, then, for such things that I loved + him? It was thus that I replied to him; and he, so sad, immediately + recovered his gaiety. He thanked me, saying, ‘You love me; the rest is of + no consequence.’ I chided him, then, for having doubted me; and after + that, you pretend that he cowardly assassinated an old woman? You would + not dare repeat it.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange ceased speaking, a smile of victory on her lips. + That smile meant, “At last I have attained my end: you are conquered; what + can you reply to all that I have said?” + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate did not long leave this smiling illusion to + the unhappy child. He did not perceive how cruel and offensive was his + persistence. Always the same predominant idea! In persuading Claire, he + would justify his own conduct to himself. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know, mademoiselle,” he resumed, “how a sudden calamity may + effect a good man’s reason. It is only at the time a thing escapes us that + we feel the greatness of the loss. God preserve me from doubting all that + you have said; but picture to yourself the immensity of the blow which + struck M. de Commarin. Can you say that on leaving you he did not give way + to despair? Think of the extremities to which it may have led him. He may + have been for a time bewildered, and have acted unconsciously. Perhaps + this is the way the crime should be explained.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange’s face grew deathly pale, and betrayed the utmost + terror. The magistrate thought that at last doubt had begun to effect her + pure and noble belief. + </p> + <p> + “He must, then, have been mad,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Possibly,” replied the magistrate; “and yet the circumstances of the + crime denote a well-laid plan. Believe me, then, mademoiselle, and do not + be too confident. Pray, and wait patiently for the issue of this terrible + trial. Listen to my voice, it is that of a friend. You used to have in me + the confidence a daughter gives to her father, you told me so; do not, + then, refuse my advice. Remain silent and wait. Hide your grief to all; + you might hereafter regret having exposed it. Young, inexperienced, + without a guide, without a mother, alas! you sadly misplaced your first + affections.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, no,” stammered Claire. “Ah!” she added, “you talk like the rest + of the world, that prudent and egotistical world, which I despise and + hate.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor child,” continued M. Daburon, pitiless even in his compassion, + “unhappy young girl! This is your first deception! Nothing more terrible + could be imagined; few women would know how to bear it. But you are young; + you are brave; your life will not be ruined. Hereafter you will feel + horrified at this crime. There is no wound, I know by experience, which + time does not heal.” + </p> + <p> + Claire tried to grasp what the magistrate was saying, but his words + reached her only as confused sounds, their meaning entirely escaped her. + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you, sir,” she said. “What advice, then, do you give + me?” + </p> + <p> + “The only advice that reason dictates, and that my affection for you can + suggest, mademoiselle. I speak to you as a kind and devoted brother. I say + to you: ‘Courage, Claire, resign yourself to the saddest, the greatest + sacrifice which honour can ask of a young girl. Weep, yes, weep for your + deceived love; but forget it. Pray heaven to help you do so. He whom you + have loved is no longer worthy of you.’” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate stopped slightly frightened. Mademoiselle d’Arlange had + become livid. + </p> + <p> + But though the body was weak, the soul still remained firm. + </p> + <p> + “You said, just now,” she murmured, “that he could only have committed + this crime in a moment of distraction, in a fit of madness?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, not knowing what he did, he can not be guilty.” + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate forgot a certain troublesome question which + he put to himself one morning in bed after his illness. + </p> + <p> + “Neither justice nor society, mademoiselle,” he replied, “can take that + into account. God alone, who sees into the depths of our hearts, can + judge, can decide those questions which human justice must pass by. In our + eyes, M. de Commarin is a criminal. There may be certain extenuating + circumstances to soften the punishment; but the moral effect will be the + same. Even if he were acquitted, and I wish he may be, but without hope, + he will not be less unworthy. He will always carry the dishonour, the + stain of blood cowardly shed. Therefore, forget him.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange stopped the magistrate with a look in which flashed + the strongest resentment. + </p> + <p> + “That is to say,” she exclaimed, “that you counsel me to abandon him in + his misfortune. All the world deserts him; and your prudence advises me to + act with the world. Men behave thus, I have heard, when one of their + friends is down; but women never do. Look about you; however humiliated, + however wretched, however low, a man may be, you will always find a woman + near to sustain and console him. When the last friend has boldly taken to + flight, when the last relation has abandoned him, woman remains.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate regretted having been carried away perhaps a little too + far. Claire’s excitement frightened him. He tried, but in vain, to stop + her. + </p> + <p> + “I may be timid,” she continued with increasing energy, “but I am no + coward. I chose Albert voluntarily from amongst all. Whatever happens, I + will never desert him. No, I will never say, ‘I do not know this man.’ He + would have given me half of his prosperity, and of his glory. I will + share, whether he wishes it or not, half of his shame and of his + misfortune. Between two, the burden will be less heavy to bear. Strike! I + will cling so closely to him that no blow shall touch him without reaching + me, too. You counsel me to forget him. Teach me, then, how to. I forget + him? Could I, even if I wished? But I do not wish it. I love him. It is no + more in my power to cease loving him than it is to arrest, by the sole + effort of my will, the beating of my heart. He is a prisoner, accused of + murder. So be it. I love him. He is guilty! What of that? I love him. You + will condemn him, you will dishonour him. Condemned and dishonoured, I + shall love him still. You will send him to a convict prison. I will follow + him; and in the prison, under the convict’s dress, I will yet love him. If + he falls to the bottom of the abyss, I will fall with him. My life is his, + let him dispose of it. No, nothing will separate me from him, nothing + short of death! And, if he must mount the scaffold, I shall die, I know + it, from the blow which kills him.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had buried his face in his hands. He did not wish Claire to + perceive a trace of the emotion which affected him. + </p> + <p> + “How she loves him!” he thought, “how she loves him!” + </p> + <p> + His mind was sunk in the darkest thoughts. All the stings of jealousy were + rending him. What would not be his delight, if he were the object of so + irresistible a passion as that which burst forth before him! What would he + not give in return! He had, too, a young and ardent soul, a burning thirst + for love. But who had ever thought of that? He had been esteemed, + respected, perhaps feared, but not loved; and he never would be. Was he, + then, unworthy of it? Why do so many men pass through life dispossessed of + love, while others, the vilest beings sometimes, seem to possess a + mysterious power, which charms and seduces, and inspires those blind and + impetuous feelings which to assert themselves rush to the sacrifice all + the while longing for it? Have women, then, no reason, no discernment? + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange’s silence brought the magistrate back to the + reality. He raised his eyes to her. Overcome by the violence of her + emotion, she lay back in her chair, and breathed with such difficulty that + M. Daburon feared she was about to faint. He moved quickly towards the + bell, to summon aid; but Claire noticed the movement, and stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “What would you do?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “You seemed suffering so,” he stammered, “that I——” + </p> + <p> + “It is nothing, sir,” replied she. “I may seem weak; but I am not so. I am + strong, believe me, very strong. It is true that I suffer, as I never + believed that one could suffer. It is cruel for a young girl to have to do + violence to all her feelings. You ought to be satisfied, sir. I have torn + aside all veils; and you have read even the inmost recesses of my heart. + But I do not regret it; it was for his sake. That which I do regret is my + having lowered my self so far as to defend him; but he will forgive me + that one doubt. Your assurance took me unawares. A man like him does not + need defence; his innocence must be proved; and, God helping me, I will + prove it.” + </p> + <p> + As Claire was half-rising to depart, M. Daburon detained her by a gesture. + In his blindness, he thought he would be doing wrong to leave this poor + young girl in the slightest way deceived. Having gone so far as to begin, + he persuaded himself that his duty bade him go on to the end. He said to + himself, in all good faith, that he would thus preserve Claire from + herself, and spare her in the future many bitter regrets. The surgeon who + has commenced a painful operation does not leave it half-finished because + the patient struggles, suffers, and cries out. + </p> + <p> + “It is painful, Mademoiselle,—” he began. + </p> + <p> + Claire did not let him finish. + </p> + <p> + “Enough, sir,” said she; “all that you can say will be of no avail. I + respect your unhappy conviction. I ask, in return, the same regard for + mine. If you were truly my friend, I would ask you to aid me in the task + of saving him, to which I am about to devote myself. But, doubtless, you + would not do so.” + </p> + <p> + “If you knew the proofs which I possess, mademoiselle,” he said in a cold + tone, which expressed his determination not to give way to anger, “if I + detailed them to you, you would no longer hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak, sir,” cried Claire imperiously. + </p> + <p> + “You wish it, mademoiselle? Very well; I will give you in detail all the + evidence we have collected. I am entirely yours, as you are aware. But + yet, why should I harass you with all these proofs? There is one which + alone is decisive. The murder was committed on the evening of Shrove + Tuesday; and the prisoner cannot give an account of what he did on that + evening. He went out, however, and only returned home about two o’clock in + the morning, his clothes soiled and torn, and his gloves frayed.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! enough, sir, enough!” interrupted Claire, whose eyes beamed once more + with happiness. “You say it was on Shrove Tuesday evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I was sure,” she cried triumphantly. “I told you truly that he could + not be guilty.” + </p> + <p> + She clasped her hands, and, from the movement of her lips, it was evident + that she was praying. The expression of the most perfect faith represented + by some of the Italian painters illuminated her beautiful face while she + rendered thanks to God in the effusion of her gratitude. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate was so disconcerted, that he forgot to admire her. He + awaited an explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” he asked impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” replied Claire, “if that is your strongest proof, it exists no + longer. Albert passed the entire evening you speak of with me.” + </p> + <p> + “With you?” stammered the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, with me, at my home.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was astounded. Was he dreaming? He hardly knew. + </p> + <p> + “What!” he exclaimed, “the viscount was at your house? Your grandmother, + your companion, your servants, they all saw him and spoke to him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; he came and left in secret. He wished no one to see him; he + desired to be alone with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the magistrate with a sigh of relief. The sigh signified: “It’s + all clear—only too evident. She is determined to save him, at the + risk even of compromising her reputation. Poor girl! But has this idea + only just occurred to her?” + </p> + <p> + The “Ah!” was interpreted very differently by Mademoiselle d’Arlange. She + thought that M. Daburon was astonished at her consenting to receive + Albert. + </p> + <p> + “Your surprise is an insult, sir,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + “A daughter of my family, sir, may receive her betrothed without danger of + anything occurring for which she would have to blush.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke thus, and at the same time was red with shame, grief, and anger. + She began to hate M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + “I had no such insulting thought as you imagine, mademoiselle,” said the + magistrate. “I was only wondering why M. de Commarin went secretly to your + house, when his approaching marriage gave him the right to present himself + openly at all hours. I still wonder, how, on such a visit, he could get + his clothes in the condition in which we found them.” + </p> + <p> + “That is to say, sir,” replied Claire bitterly, “that you doubt my word!” + </p> + <p> + “The circumstances are such, mademoiselle,—” + </p> + <p> + “You accuse me, then, of falsehood, sir. Know that, were we criminals, we + should not descend to justifying ourselves; we should never pray nor ask + for pardon.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange’s haughty, contemptuous tone could only anger the + magistrate. How harshly she treated him! And simply because he would not + consent to be her dupe. + </p> + <p> + “Above all, mademoiselle,” he answered severely, “I am a magistrate; and I + have a duty to perform. A crime has been committed. Everything points to + M. Albert de Commarin as the guilty man. I arrest him; I examine him; and + I find overwhelming proofs against him. You come and tell me that they are + false; that is not enough. So long as you addressed me as a friend, you + found me kind and gentle. Now it is the magistrate to whom you speak: and + it is the magistrate who answers, ‘Prove it.’” + </p> + <p> + “My word, sir,—” + </p> + <p> + “Prove it!” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange rose slowly, casting upon the magistrate a look + full of astonishment and suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Would you, then, be glad, sir,” she asked, “to find Albert guilty? Would + it give you such great pleasure to have him convicted? Do you then hate + this prisoner, whose fate is in your hands? One would almost think so. Can + you answer for your impartiality? Do not certain memories weigh heavily in + the scale? Are you sure that you are not, armed with the law, revenging + yourself upon a rival?” + </p> + <p> + “This is too much,” murmured the magistrate, “this is too much!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the unusual, the dangerous position we are in at this moment? + One day, I remember, you declared your love for me. It appeared to me + sincere and honest; it touched me. I was obliged to refuse you, because I + loved another; and I pitied you. Now that other is accused of murder, and + you are his judge; and I find myself between you two, praying to you for + him. In undertaking the investigation you acquired an opportunity to help + him; and yet you seem to be against him.” + </p> + <p> + Every word Claire uttered fell upon M. Daburon’s heart like a slap on his + face. Was it really she who was speaking? Whence came this sudden + boldness, which made her choose all those words which found an echo in his + heart? + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” said he, “your grief has been too much for you. From you + alone could I pardon what you have just said. Your ignorance of things + makes you unjust. If you think that Albert’s fate depends upon my + pleasure, you are mistaken. To convince me is nothing; it is necessary to + convince others. That I should believe you is all very natural, I know + you. But what weight will others attach to your testimony, when you go to + them with a true story—most true, I believe, but yet highly + improbable?” + </p> + <p> + Tears came into Claire’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + “If I have unjustly offended you, sir,” said she, “pardon me; my + unhappiness makes me forget myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot offend me, mademoiselle,” replied the magistrate. “I have + already told you that I am devoted to your service.” + </p> + <p> + “Then sir, help me to prove the truth of what I have said. I will tell you + everything.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was fully convinced that Claire was seeking to deceive him; but + her confidence astonished him. He wondered what fable she was about to + concoct. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” began Claire, “you know what obstacles have stood in the way of my + marriage with Albert. The Count de Commarin would not accept me for a + daughter-in-law, because I am poor, I possess nothing. It took Albert five + years to triumph over his father’s objections. Twice the count yielded; + twice he recalled his consent, which he said had been extorted from him. + At last, about a month ago, he gave his consent of his own accord. But + these hesitations, delays, refusals, had deeply hurt my grandmother. You + know her sensitive nature; and, in this case, I must confess she was + right. Though the wedding day had been fixed, the marchioness declared + that we should not be compromised nor laughed at again for any apparent + haste to contract a marriage so advantageous, that we had often before + been accused of ambition. She decided, therefore, that, until the + publication of the banns, Albert should only be admitted into the house + every other day, for two hours in the afternoon, and in her presence. We + could not get her to alter this determination. Such was the state of + affairs, when, on Sunday morning, a note came to me from Albert. He told + me that pressing business would prevent his coming, although it was his + regular day. What could have happened to keep him away? I feared some + evil. The next day I awaited him impatiently and distracted, when his + valet brought Schmidt a note for me. In that letter, sir, Albert entreated + me to grant him an interview. It was necessary, he wrote, that he should + have a long conversation with me, alone, and without delay. Our whole + future, he added, depended upon this interview. He left me to fix the day + and hour, urging me to confide in no one. I did not hesitate. I sent him + word to meet me on the Tuesday evening, at the little garden gate, which + opens into an unfrequented street. To inform me of his presence, he was to + knock just as nine o’clock chimed at the Invalides. I knew that my + grandmother had invited a number of her friends for that evening; and I + thought that, by pretending a headache, I might retire early, and so be + free. I expected, also, that Madame d’Arlange would keep Schmidt with + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, mademoiselle,” interrupted M. Daburon, “what day did you write + to M. Albert?” + </p> + <p> + “On Tuesday.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you fix the hour?” + </p> + <p> + “I must have sent the letter between two and three o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, mademoiselle. Continue, I pray.” + </p> + <p> + “All my anticipations,” continued Claire, “were realised. I retired during + the evening, and I went into the garden a little before the appointed + time. I had procured the key of the little door; and I at once tried it. + Unfortunately, I could not make it turn, the lock was so rusty. I exerted + all my strength in vain. I was in despair, when nine o’clock struck. At + the third stroke, Albert knocked. I told him of the accident; and I threw + him the key, that he might try and unlock the door. He tried, but without + success. I then begged him to postpone our interview. He replied that it + was impossible, that what he had to say admitted of no delay; that, during + three days he had hesitated about confiding in me, and had suffered + martyrdom, and that he could endure it no longer. We were speaking, you + must understand, through the door. At last, he declared that he would + climb over the wall. I begged him not to do so, fearing an accident. The + wall is very high, as you know; the top is covered with pieces of broken + glass, and the acacia branches stretch out above like a hedge. But he + laughed at my fears, and said that, unless I absolutely forbade him to do + so, he was going to attempt to scale the wall. I dared not say no; and he + risked it. I was very frightened, and trembled like a leaf. Fortunately, + he is very active, and got over without hurting himself. He had come, sir, + to tell me of the misfortune which had befallen him. We first of all sat + down upon the little seat you know of, in front of the grove; then, as the + rain was falling, we took shelter in the summer house. It was past + midnight when Albert left me, quieted and almost gay. He went back in the + same manner, only with less danger, because I made him use the gardener’s + ladder, which I laid down alongside the wall when he had reached the other + side.” + </p> + <p> + This account, given in the simplest and most natural manner, puzzled M. + Daburon. What was he to think? + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” he asked, “had the rain commenced to fall when M. Albert + climbed over the wall?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, the first drops fell when we were on the seat. I recollect it + very well, because he opened his umbrella, and I thought of Paul and + Virginia.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me a minute, mademoiselle,” said the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + He sat down at his desk, and rapidly wrote two letters. In the first, he + gave orders for Albert to be brought at once to his office in the Palais + de Justice. In the second, he directed a detective to go immediately to + the Faubourg St. Germain to the d’Arlange house, and examine the wall at + the bottom of the garden, and make a note of any marks of its having been + scaled, if any such existed. He explained that the wall had been climbed + twice, both before and during the rain; consequently the marks of the + going and returning would be different from each other. + </p> + <p> + He enjoined upon the detective to proceed with the utmost caution, and to + invent a plausible pretext which would explain his investigations. + </p> + <p> + Having finished writing, the magistrate rang for his servant, who soon + appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said he, “are two letters, which you must take to my clerk, + Constant. Tell him to read them, and to have the orders they contain + executed at once,—at once, you understand. Run, take a cab, and be + quick! Ah! one word. If Constant is not in my office, have him sought for; + he will not be far off, as he is waiting for me. Go quickly!” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon then turned and said to Claire: “Have you kept the letter, + mademoiselle, in which M. Albert asked for this interview?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I even think I have it with me.” + </p> + <p> + She arose, felt in her pocket, and drew out a much crumpled piece of + paper. + </p> + <p> + “Here it is!” + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate took it. A suspicion crossed his mind. This + compromising letter happened to be very conveniently in Claire’s pocket; + and yet young girls do not usually carry about with them requests for + secret interviews. At a glance, he read the ten lines of the note. + </p> + <p> + “No date,” he murmured, “no stamp, nothing at all.” + </p> + <p> + Claire did not hear him; she was racking her brain to find other proofs of + the interview. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said she suddenly, “it often happens, that when we wish to be, and + believe ourselves alone, we are nevertheless observed. Summon, I beseech + you, all of my grandmother’s servants, and inquire if any of them saw + Albert that night.” + </p> + <p> + “Inquire of your servants! Can you dream of such a thing, mademoiselle?” + </p> + <p> + “What, sir? You fear that I shall be compromised. What of that, if he is + only freed?” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon could not help admiring her. What sublime devotion in this + young girl, whether she spoke the truth or not! He could understand the + violence she had been doing to her feelings during the past hour, he who + knew her character so well. + </p> + <p> + “That is not all,” she added; “the key which I threw to Albert, he did not + return it to me; he must have forgotten to do so. If it is found in his + possession, it will well prove that he was in the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give orders respecting it, mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “There is still another thing,” continued Claire; “while I am here, send + some one to examine the wall.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to think of everything. + </p> + <p> + “That is already done, mademoiselle,” replied M. Daburon. “I will not hide + from you that one of the letters which I have just sent off ordered an + examination of your grandmother’s wall, a secret examination, though, be + assured.” + </p> + <p> + Claire rose joyfully, and for the second time held out her hand to the + magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thanks!” she said, “a thousand thanks! Now I can well see that you + are with me. But I have still another idea: Albert ought to have the note + I wrote on Tuesday.” + </p> + <p> + “No, mademoiselle, he burnt it.” + </p> + <p> + Claire drew back. She imagined she felt a touch of irony in the + magistrate’s reply. There was none, however. M. Daburon remembered the + letter thrown into the fire by Albert on the Tuesday afternoon. It could + only been the one Claire had sent him. It was to her, then, that the + words, “She cannot resist me,” applied. He understood, now, the action and + the remark. + </p> + <p> + “Can you understand, mademoiselle,” he next asked, “how M. de Commarin + could lead justice astray, and expose me to committing a most deplorable + error, when it would have been so easy to have told me all this?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me, sir, that an honourable man cannot confess that he has + obtained a secret interview from a lady, until he has full permission from + her to do so. He ought to risk his life sooner than the honour of her who + has trusted in him; but be assured Albert relied on me.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to reply to this; and the sentiments expressed by + Mademoiselle d’Arlange gave a meaning to one of Albert’s replies in the + examination. + </p> + <p> + “This is not all yet, mademoiselle,” continued the magistrate; “all that + you have told me here, you must repeat in my office, at the Palais de + Justice. My clerk will take down your testimony, and you must sign it. + This proceeding will be painful to you; but it is a necessary formality.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir, I will do so with pleasure. What can I refuse, when I know that + he is in prison? I was determined to do everything. If he had been tried + at the assizes, I would have gone there. Yes, I would have presented + myself, and there before all I would have told the truth. Doubtless,” she + added sadly, “I should have been greatly compromised. I should have been + looked upon as a heroine of romance; but what matters public opinion, the + blame or approval of the world, since I am sure of his love?” + </p> + <p> + She rose from her seat, readjusting her cloak and the strings of her + bonnet. + </p> + <p> + “Is it necessary,” she asked, “that I should await the return of the + police agents who are examining the wall?” + </p> + <p> + “It is needless, mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” she continued in a sweet voice, “I can only beseech you,” she + clasped her hands, “conjure you,” her eyes implored, “to let Albert out of + prison.” + </p> + <p> + “He shall be liberated as soon as possible; I give you my word.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, to-day, dear M. Daburon, to-day, I beg of you, now, at once! Since he + is innocent, be kind, for you are our friend. Do you wish me to go down on + my knees?” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate had only just time to extend his arms, and prevent her. + </p> + <p> + He was choking with emotion, the unhappy man! Ah! how much he envied the + prisoner’s lot! + </p> + <p> + “That which you ask of me is impossible, mademoiselle,” said he in an + almost inaudible voice, “impracticable, upon my honour. Ah! if it depended + upon me alone, I could not, even were he guilty, see you weep, and + resist.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange, hitherto so firm, could no longer restrain her + sobs. + </p> + <p> + “Miserable girl that I am!” she cried, “he is suffering, he is in prison; + I am free, and yet I can do nothing for him! Great heaven! inspire me with + accents to touch the hearts of men! At whose feet must I cast myself to + obtain his pardon?” + </p> + <p> + She suddenly stopped, surprised at having uttered such a word. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon!” she repeated fiercely; “he has no need of pardon. Why am I only + a woman? Can I not find one man who will help me? Yes,” she said after a + moment’s reflection, “there is one man who owes himself to Albert; since + he it was who put him in this position,—the Count de Commarin. He is + his father, and yet he has abandoned him. Ah, well! I will remind him that + he still has a son.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate rose to see her to the door; but she had already + disappeared, taking the kind-hearted Schmidt with her. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon, more dead than alive, sank back again in his chair. His eyes + filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “And that is what she is!” he murmured. “Ah! I made no vulgar choice! I + had divined and understood all her good qualities.” + </p> + <p> + He had never loved her so much; and he felt that he would never be + consoled for not having won her love in return. But, in the midst of his + meditations, a sudden thought passed like a flash across his brain. + </p> + <p> + Had Claire spoken the truth? Had she not been playing a part previously + prepared? No, most decidedly no! But she might have been herself deceived, + might have been the dupe of some skillful trick. + </p> + <p> + In that case old Tabaret’s prediction was now realised. + </p> + <p> + Tabaret had said: “Look out for an indisputable <i>alibi</i>.” + </p> + <p> + How could he show the falsity of this one, planned in advance, affirmed by + Claire, who was herself deceived? + </p> + <p> + How could he expose a plan, so well laid that the prisoner had been able + without danger to await certain results, with his arms folded, and without + himself moving in the matter? + </p> + <p> + And yet, if Claire’s story were true, and Albert innocent! + </p> + <p> + The magistrate struggled in the midst of inextricable difficulties, + without a plan, without an idea. + </p> + <p> + He arose. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he said in a loud voice, as though encouraging himself, “at the + Palais, all will be unravelled.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. + </h2> + <h3> + M. Daburon had been surprised at Claire’s visit. + </h3> + <p> + M. de Commarin was still more so, when his valet whispered to him that + Mademoiselle d’Arlange desired a moment’s conversation with him. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon had broken a handsome card-plate; M. de Commarin, who was at + breakfast, dropped his knife on his plate. + </p> + <p> + Like the magistrate he exclaimed, “Claire!” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated to receive her, fearing a painful and disagreeable scene. She + could only have, as he knew, a very slight affection for him, who had for + so long repulsed her with such obstinacy. What could she want with him? To + inquire about Albert, of course. And what could he reply? + </p> + <p> + She would probably have some nervous attack or other; and he would be + thoroughly upset. However, he thought of how much she must have suffered; + and he pitied her. + </p> + <p> + He felt that it would be cruel, as well as unworthy of him, to keep away + from her who was to have been his daughter-in-law, the Viscountess de + Commarin. + </p> + <p> + He sent a message, asking her to wait a few minutes in one of the little + drawing-rooms on the ground floor. + </p> + <p> + He did not keep her waiting long, his appetite having been destroyed by + the mere announcement of her visit. He was fully prepared for anything + disagreeable. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he appeared, Claire saluted him with one of those graceful, yet + highly dignified bows, which distinguished the Marchioness d’Arlange. + </p> + <p> + “Sir—,” she began. + </p> + <p> + “You come, do you not, my poor child, to obtain news of the unhappy boy?” + asked M. de Commarin. + </p> + <p> + He interrupted Claire, and went straight to the point, in order to get the + disagreeable business more quickly over. + </p> + <p> + “No sir,” replied the young girl, “I come, on the contrary, to bring you + news. Albert is innocent.” + </p> + <p> + The count looked at her most attentively, persuaded that grief had + affected her reason; but in that case her madness was very quiet. + </p> + <p> + “I never doubted it,” continued Claire; “but now I have the most positive + proof.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure of what you are saying?” inquired the count, whose + eyes betrayed his doubt. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange understood his thoughts; her interview with M. + Daburon had given her experience. + </p> + <p> + “I state nothing which is not of the utmost accuracy,” she replied, “and + easily proved. I have just come from M. Daburon, the investigating + magistrate, who is one of my grandmother’s friends; and, after what I told + him, he is convinced that Albert is innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “He told you that, Claire!” exclaimed the count. “My child, are you sure, + are you not mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I told him something, of which every one was ignorant, and of + which Albert, who is a gentleman, could not speak. I told him that Albert + passed with me, in my grandmother’s garden, all that evening on which the + crime was committed. He had asked to see me—” + </p> + <p> + “But your word will not be sufficient.” + </p> + <p> + “There are proofs, and justice has them by this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens! Is it really possible?” cried the count, who was beside himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir!” said Mademoiselle d’Arlange bitterly, “you are like the + magistrate; you believed in the impossible. You are his father, and you + suspected him! You do not know him, then. You were abandoning him, without + trying to defend him. Ah, I did not hesitate one moment!” + </p> + <p> + One is easily induced to believe true that which one is anxiously longing + for. M. de Commarin was not difficult to convince. Without thinking, + without discussion, he put faith in Claire’s assertions. He shared her + convictions, without asking himself whether it were wise or prudent to do + so. + </p> + <p> + Yes, he had been overcome by the magistrate’s certitude, he had told + himself that what was most unlikely was true; and he had bowed his head. + One word from a young girl had upset this conviction. Albert innocent! The + thought descended upon his heart like heavenly dew. + </p> + <p> + Claire appeared to him like a bearer of happiness and hope. + </p> + <p> + During the last three days, he had discovered how great was his affection + for Albert. He had loved him tenderly, for he had never been able to + discard him, in spite of his frightful suspicions as to his paternity. + </p> + <p> + For three days, the knowledge of the crime imputed to his unhappy son, the + thought of the punishment which awaited him, had nearly killed the father. + And after all he was innocent! + </p> + <p> + No more shame, no more scandalous trial, no more stains upon the + escutcheon; the name of Commarin would not be heard at the assizes. + </p> + <p> + “But, then, mademoiselle,” asked the count, “are they going to release + him?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! sir, I demanded that they should at once set him at liberty. It is + just, is it not, since he is not guilty? But the magistrate replied that + it was not possible; that he was not the master; that Albert’s fate + depended on many others. It was then that I resolved to come to you for + aid.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I then do something?” + </p> + <p> + “I at least hope so. I am only a poor girl, very ignorant; and I know no + one in the world. I do not know what can be done to get him released from + prison. There ought, however, to be some means for obtaining justice. Will + you not try all that can be done, sir, you, who are his father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied M. de Commarin quickly, “yes, and without losing a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Since Albert’s arrest, the count had been plunged in a dull stupor. In his + profound grief, seeing only ruin and disaster about him, he had done + nothing to shake off this mental paralysis. Ordinarily very active, he now + sat all day long without moving. He seemed to enjoy a condition which + prevented his feeling the immensity of his misfortune. Claire’s voice + sounded in his ear like the resurrection trumpet. The frightful darkness + was dispelled; he saw a glimmering in the horizon; he recovered the energy + of his youth. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the radiance in his face changed to sadness, mixed with anger. + </p> + <p> + “But where,” he asked. “At what door shall we knock with any hope of + success? In the olden times, I would have sought the king. But to-day! + Even the emperor himself cannot interfere with the law. He will tell me to + await the decision of the tribunals, that he can do nothing. Wait! And + Albert is counting the minutes in mortal agony! We shall certainly have + justice; but to obtain it promptly is an art taught in schools that I have + not frequented.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us try, at least, sir,” persisted Claire. “Let us seek out judges, + generals, ministers, any one. Only lead me to them. I will speak; and you + shall see if we do not succeed.” + </p> + <p> + The count took Claire’s little hands between his own, and held them a + moment pressing them with paternal tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Brave girl!” he cried, “you are a noble, courageous woman, Claire! Good + blood never fails. I did not know you. Yes, you shall be my daughter; and + you shall be happy together, Albert and you. But we must not rush about + everywhere, like wild geese. We need some one to tell us whom we should + address,—some guide, lawyer, advocate. Ah!” he cried, “I have it,—Noel!” + </p> + <p> + Claire raised her eyes to the count’s in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “He is my son,” replied M. de Commarin, evidently embarrassed, “my other + son, Albert’s brother. The best and worthiest of men,” he added, repeating + quite appropriately a phrase already uttered by M. Daburon. “He is a + advocate; he knows all about the Palais; he will tell us what to do.” + </p> + <p> + Noel’s name, thus thrown into the midst of this conversation so full of + hope, oppressed Claire’s heart. + </p> + <p> + The count perceived her affright. + </p> + <p> + “Do not feel anxious, dear child,” he said. “Noel is good; and I will tell + you more, he loves Albert. Do not shake your head so; Noel told me + himself, on this very spot, that he did not believe Albert guilty. He + declared that he intended doing everything to dispel the fatal mistake, + and that he would be his advocate.” + </p> + <p> + These assertions did not seem to reassure the young girl. She thought to + herself, “What then has this Noel done for Albert?” But she made no + remark. + </p> + <p> + “I will send for him,” continued M. de Commarin; “he is now with Albert’s + mother, who brought him up, and who is now on her deathbed.” + </p> + <p> + “Albert’s mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my child. Albert will explain to you what may perhaps seem to you an + enigma. Now time presses. But I think—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped suddenly. He thought, that, instead of sending for Noel at + Madame Gerdy’s, he might go there himself. He would thus see Valerie! and + he had longed to see her again so much! + </p> + <p> + It was one of those actions which the heart urges, but which one does not + dare risk, because a thousand subtle reasons and interests are against it. + </p> + <p> + One wishes, desires, and even longs for it; and yet one struggles, + combats, and resists. But, if an opportunity occurs, one is only too happy + to seize it; then one has an excuse with which to silence one’s + conscience. + </p> + <p> + In thus yielding to the impulse of one’s feelings, one can say: “It was + not I who willed it, it was fate.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be quicker, perhaps,” observed the count, “to go to Noel.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us start then, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know though, my child,” said the old gentleman, hesitating, + “whether I may, whether I ought to take you with me. Propriety—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir, propriety has nothing to do with it!” replied Claire + impetuously. “With you, and for his sake, I can go anywhere. Is it not + indispensable that I should give some explanations? Only send word to my + grandmother by Schmidt, who will come back here and await my return. I am + ready, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” said the count. + </p> + <p> + Then, ringing the bell violently, he called to the servant, “My carriage.” + </p> + <p> + In descending the steps, he insisted upon Claire’s taking his arm. The + gallant and elegant politeness of the friend of the Count d’Artois + reappeared. + </p> + <p> + “You have taken twenty years from my age,” he said; “it is but right that + I should devote to you the youth you have restored to me.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as Claire had entered the carriage, he said to the footman: “Rue + St. Lazare, quick!” + </p> + <p> + Whenever the count said “quick,” on entering his carriage, the pedestrians + had to get out of the way. But the coachman was a skillful driver, and + arrived without accident. + </p> + <p> + Aided by the concierge’s directions, the count and the young girl went + towards Madame Gerdy’s apartments. The count mounted slowly, holding + tightly to the balustrade, stopping at every landing to recover his + breath. He was, then, about to see her again! His emotion pressed his + heart like a vice. + </p> + <p> + “M. Noel Gerdy?” he asked of the servant. + </p> + <p> + The advocate had just that moment gone out. She did not know where he had + gone; but he had said he should not be out more than half an hour. + </p> + <p> + “We will wait for him, then,” said the count. + </p> + <p> + He advanced; and the servant drew back to let them pass. Noel had strictly + forbidden her to admit any visitors; but the Count de Commarin was one of + those whose appearance makes servants forget all their orders. + </p> + <p> + Three persons were in the room into which the servant introduced the count + and Mademoiselle d’Arlange. + </p> + <p> + They were the parish priest, the doctor, and a tall man, an officer of the + Legion of Honour, whose figure and bearing indicated the old soldier. + </p> + <p> + They were conversing near the fireplace, and the arrival of strangers + appeared to astonish them exceedingly. + </p> + <p> + In bowing, in response to M. de Commarin’s and Claire’s salutations, they + seemed to inquire their business: but this hesitation was brief, for the + soldier almost immediately offered Mademoiselle d’Arlange a chair. + </p> + <p> + The count considered that his presence was inopportune; and he thought + that he was called upon to introduce himself, and explain his visit. + </p> + <p> + “You will excuse me, gentlemen,” said he, “if I am indiscreet. I did not + think of being so when I asked to wait for Noel, whom I have the most + pressing need of seeing. I am the Count de Commarin.” + </p> + <p> + At this name, the old soldier let go the back of the chair which he was + still holding and haughtily raised his head. An angry light flashed in his + eyes, and he made a threatening gesture. His lips moved, as if he were + about to speak; but he restrained himself, and retired, bowing his head, + to the window. + </p> + <p> + Neither the count nor the two other men noticed his strange behaviour; but + it did not escape Claire. + </p> + <p> + While Mademoiselle d’Arlange sat down rather surprised, the count, much + embarrassed at his position, went up to the priest, and asked in a low + voice, “What is, I pray, M. l’Abbe; Madame Gerdy’s condition?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor, who had a sharp ear, heard the question, and approached + quickly. + </p> + <p> + He was very pleased to have an opportunity to speak to a person as + celebrated as the Count de Commarin, and to become acquainted with him. + </p> + <p> + “I fear, sir,” he said, “that she cannot live throughout the day.” + </p> + <p> + The count pressed his hand against his forehead, as though he had felt a + sudden pain there. He hesitated to inquire further. + </p> + <p> + After a moment of chilling silence, he resolved to go on. + </p> + <p> + “Does she recognise her friends?” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. Since last evening, however, there has been a great change. She + was very uneasy all last night: she had moments of fierce delirium. About + an hour ago, we thought she was recovering her senses, and we sent for M. + l’Abbe.” + </p> + <p> + “Very needlessly, though,” put in the priest, “and it is a sad misfortune. + Her reason is quite gone. Poor woman! I have known her ten years. I have + been to see her nearly every week; I never knew a more worthy person.” + </p> + <p> + “She must suffer dreadfully,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Almost at the same instant, and as if to bear out the doctor’s words, they + heard stifled cries from the next room, the door of which was slightly + open. + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear?” exclaimed the count, trembling from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + Claire understood nothing of this strange scene. Dark presentiments + oppressed her; she felt as though she were enveloped in an atmosphere of + evil. She grew frightened, rose from her chair, and drew near the count. + </p> + <p> + “She is, I presume, in there?” asked M. de Commarin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” harshly answered the old soldier, who had also drawn near. + </p> + <p> + At any other time, the count would have noticed the soldier’s tone, and + have resented it. Now, he did not even raise his eyes. He remained + insensible to everything. Was she not there, close to him? His thoughts + were in the past; it seemed to him but yesterday that he had quitted her + for the last time. + </p> + <p> + “I should very much like to see her,” he said timidly. + </p> + <p> + “That is impossible.” replied the old soldier. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” stammered the count. + </p> + <p> + “At least, M. de Commarin,” replied the soldier, “let her die in peace.” + </p> + <p> + The count started, as if he had been struck. His eyes encountered the + officer’s; he lowered them like a criminal before his judge. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing need prevent the count’s entering Madame Gerdy’s room,” put in + the doctor, who purposely saw nothing of all this. “She would probably not + notice his presence; and if—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she would perceive nothing!” said the priest. “I have just spoken to + her, taken her hand, she remained quite insensible.” + </p> + <p> + The old soldier reflected deeply. + </p> + <p> + “Enter,” said he at last to the count; “perhaps it is God’s will.” + </p> + <p> + The count tottered so that the doctor offered to assist him. He gently + motioned him away. + </p> + <p> + The doctor and the priest entered with him; Claire and the old soldier + remained at the threshold of the door, facing the bed. + </p> + <p> + The count took three or four steps, and was obliged to stop. He wished to, + but could not go further. + </p> + <p> + Could this dying woman really be Valerie? + </p> + <p> + He taxed his memory severely; nothing in those withered features, nothing + in that distorted face, recalled the beautiful, the adored Valerie of his + youth. He did not recognise her. + </p> + <p> + But she knew him, or rather divined his presence. With supernatural + strength, she raised herself, exposing her shoulders and emaciated arms; + then pushing away the ice from her forehead, and throwing back her still + plentiful hair, bathed with water and perspiration, she cried, “Guy! Guy!” + </p> + <p> + The count trembled all over. + </p> + <p> + He did not perceive that which immediately struck all the other persons + present—the transformation in the sick woman. Her contracted + features relaxed, a celestial joy spread over her face, and her eyes, + sunken by disease, assumed an expression of infinite tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Guy,” said she in a voice heartrending by its sweetness, “you have come + at last! How long, O my God! I have waited for you! You cannot think what + I have suffered by your absence. I should have died of grief, had it not + been for the hope of seeing you again. Who kept you from me? Your parents + again? How cruel of them! Did you not tell them that no one could love you + here below as I do? No, that is not it; I remember. You were angry when + you left me. Your friends wished to separate us; they said that I was + deceiving you with another. Who have I injured that I should have so many + enemies! They envied my happiness; and we were so happy! But you did not + believe the wicked calumny, you scorned it, for are you not here?” + </p> + <p> + The nun, who had risen on seeing so many persons enter the sick room, + opened her eyes with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “I deceive you?” continued the dying woman; “only a madman would believe + it. Am I not yours, your very own, heart and soul? To me you are + everything: and there is nothing I could expect or hope for from another + which you have not already given me. Was I not yours, alone, from the very + first? I never hesitated to give myself entirely to you; I felt that I was + born for you, Guy, do you remember? I was working for a lace maker, and + was barely earning a living. You told me you were a poor student; I + thought you were depriving yourself for me. You insisted on having our + little apartment on the Quai Saint-Michel done up. It was lovely, with the + new paper all covered with flowers, which we hung ourselves. How + delightful it was! From the window, we could see the great trees of the + Tuileries gardens; and by leaning out a little we could see the sun set + through the arches of the bridges. Oh, those happy days! The first time + that we went into the country together, one Sunday, you brought me a more + beautiful dress than I had ever dreamed of, and such darling little boots, + that it was a shame to walk out in them! But you had deceived me! You were + not a poor student. One day, when taking my work home, I met you in an + elegant carriage, with tall footmen, dressed in liveries covered with gold + lace, behind. I could not believe my eyes. That evening you told me the + truth, that you were a nobleman and immensely rich. O my darling, why did + you tell me?” + </p> + <p> + Had she her reason, or was this a mere delirium? + </p> + <p> + Great tears rolled down the Count de Commarin’s wrinkled face, and the + doctor and the priest were touched by the sad spectacle of an old man + weeping like a child. + </p> + <p> + Only the previous evening, the count had thought his heart dead; and now + this penetrating voice was sufficient to regain the fresh and powerful + feelings of his youth. Yet, how many years had passed away since then! + </p> + <p> + “After that,” continued Madame Gerdy, “we left the Quai Saint-Michel. You + wished it; and I obeyed, in spite of my apprehensions. You told me, that, + to please you, I ought to look like a great lady. You provided teachers + for me, for I was so ignorant that I scarcely knew how to sign my name. Do + you remember the queer spelling in my first letter? Ah, Guy, if you had + really only been a poor student! When I knew that you were so rich, I lost + my simplicity, my thoughtlessness, my gaiety. I feared that you would + think me covetous, that you would imagine that your fortune influenced my + love. Men who, like you, have millions, must be unhappy! They must be + always doubting and full of suspicions, they can never be sure whether it + is themselves or their gold which is loved, and this awful doubt makes + them mistrustful, jealous, and cruel. Oh my dearest, why did we leave our + dear little room? There, we were happy. Why did you not leave me always + where you first found me? Did you not know that the sight of happiness + irritates mankind? If we had been wise, we would have hid ours like a + crime. You thought to raise me, but you only sunk me lower. You were proud + of our love; you published it abroad. Vainly I asked you in mercy to leave + me in obscurity, and unknown. Soon the whole town knew that I was your + mistress. Every one was talking of the money you spent on me. How I + blushed at the flaunting luxury you thrust upon me! You were satisfied, + because my beauty became celebrated; I wept, because my shame became so + too. People talked about me, as those women who make their lovers commit + the greatest follies. Was not my name in the papers? And it was through + the same papers that I heard of your approaching marriage. Unhappy woman! + I should have fled from you, but I had not the courage. I resigned myself, + without an effort, to the most humiliating, the most shameful of + positions. You were married; and I remained your mistress. Oh, what + anguish I suffered during that terrible evening. I was alone in my own + home, in that room so associated with you; and you were marrying another! + I said to myself, ‘At this moment, a pure, noble young girl is giving + herself to him.’ I said again, ‘What oaths is that mouth, which has so + often pressed my lips, now taking?’ Often since that dreadful misfortune, + I have asked heaven what crime I had committed that I should be so + terribly punished? This was the crime. I remained your mistress, and your + wife died. I only saw her once, and then scarcely for a minute, but she + looked at you, and I knew that she loved you as only I could. Ah, Guy, it + was our love that killed her!” + </p> + <p> + She stopped exhausted, but none of the bystanders moved. They listened + breathlessly, and waited with feverish emotion for her to resume. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange had not the strength to remain standing; she had + fallen upon her knees, and was pressing her handkerchief to her mouth to + keep back her sobs. Was not this woman Albert’s mother? + </p> + <p> + The worthy nun was alone unmoved; she had seen, she said to herself, many + such deliriums before. She understood absolutely nothing of what was + passing. + </p> + <p> + “These people are very foolish,” she muttered, “to pay so much attention + to the ramblings of a person out of her mind.” + </p> + <p> + She thought she had more sense than the others, so, approaching the bed, + she began to cover up the sick woman. + </p> + <p> + “Come, madame,” said she, “cover yourself, or you will catch cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Sister!” remonstrated the doctor and priest at the same moment. + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake!” exclaimed the soldier, “let her speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Who,” continued the sick woman, unconscious of all that was passing about + her, “who told you I was deceiving you? Oh, the wretches! They set spies + upon me; they discovered that an officer came frequently to see me. But + that officer was my brother, my dear Louis! When he was eighteen years + old, and being unable to obtain work, he enlisted, saying to my mother, + that there would then be one mouth the less in the family. He was a good + soldier, and his officers always liked him. He worked whilst with his + regiment; he taught himself, and he quickly rose in rank. He was promoted + a lieutenant, then captain, and finally became major. Louis always loved + me; had he remained in Paris I should not have fallen. But our mother + died, and I was left all alone in this great city. He was a + non-commissioned officer when he first knew that I had a lover; and he was + so enraged that I feared he would never forgive me. But he did forgive me, + saying that my constancy in my error was its only excuse. Ah, my friend, + he was more jealous of your honour than you yourself! He came to see me in + secret, because I placed him in the unhappy position of blushing for his + sister. I had condemned myself never to speak of him, never to mention his + name. Could a brave soldier confess that his sister was the mistress of a + count? That it might not be known, I took the utmost precautions, but + alas! only to make you doubt me. When Louis knew what was said, he wished + in his blind rage to challenge you; and then I was obliged to make him + think that he had no right to defend me. What misery! Ah, I have paid + dearly for my years of stolen happiness! But you are here, and all is + forgotten. For you do believe me, do you not, Guy? I will write to Louis; + he will come, he will tell you that I do not lie, and you cannot doubt + his, a soldier’s word.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, on my honour,” said the old soldier, “what my sister says is the + truth.” + </p> + <p> + The dying woman did not hear him; she continued in a voice panting from + weariness: “How your presence revives me. I feel that I am growing + stronger. I have nearly been very ill. I am afraid I am not very pretty + today; but never mind, kiss me!” + </p> + <p> + She opened her arms, and thrust out her lips as if to kiss him. + </p> + <p> + “But it is on one condition, Guy, that you will leave me my child? Oh! I + beg of you, I entreat you not to take him from me; leave him to me. What + is a mother without her child? You are anxious to give him an illustrious + name, an immense fortune. No! You tell me that this sacrifice will be for + his good. No! My child is mine; I will keep him. The world has no honours, + no riches, which can replace a mother’s love. You wish to give me in + exchange, that other woman’s child. Never! What! you would have that woman + embrace my boy! It is impossible. Take away this strange child from me; he + fills me with horror; I want my own! Ah, do not insist, do not threaten me + with anger, do not leave me. I should give in, and then, I should die. + Guy, forget this fatal project, the thought of it alone is a crime. Cannot + my prayers, my tears, can nothing move you? Ah, well, God will punish us. + All will be discovered. The day will come when these children will demand + a fearful reckoning. Guy, I foresee the future; I see my son coming + towards me, justly angered. What does he say, great heaven! Oh, those + letters, those letters, sweet memories of our love! My son, he threatens + me! He strikes me! Ah, help! A son strike his mother. Tell no one of it, + though. O my God, what torture! Yet he knows well that I am his mother. He + pretends not to believe me. Lord, this is too much! Guy! pardon! oh, my + only friend! I have neither the power to resist, nor the courage to obey + you.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the door opening on to the landing opened, and Noel + appeared, pale as usual, but calm and composed. The dying woman saw him, + and the sight affected her like an electric shock. A terrible shudder + shook her frame; her eyes grew inordinately large, her hair seemed to + stand on end. She raised herself on her pillows, stretched out her arm in + the direction where Noel stood, and in a loud voice exclaimed, “Assassin!” + </p> + <p> + She fell back convulsively on the bed. Some one hastened forward: she was + dead. + </p> + <p> + A deep silence prevailed. + </p> + <p> + Such is the majesty of death, and the terror which accompanies it, that, + in its presence, even the strongest and most sceptical bow their heads. + </p> + <p> + For a time, passions and interests are forgotten. Involuntarily we are + drawn together, when some mutual friend breathes his last in our presence. + </p> + <p> + All the bystanders were deeply moved by this painful scene, this last + confession, wrested so to say from the delirium. + </p> + <p> + And the last word uttered by Madame Gerdy, “assassin,” surprised no one. + </p> + <p> + All, excepting the nun, knew of the awful accusation which had been made + against Albert. + </p> + <p> + To him they applied the unfortunate mother’s malediction. + </p> + <p> + Noel seemed quite broken hearted. Kneeling by the bedside of her who had + been as a mother to him, he took one of her hands, and pressed it close to + his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” he groaned, “she is dead!” + </p> + <p> + The nun and the priest knelt beside him, and repeated in a low voice the + prayers for the dead. + </p> + <p> + They implored God to shed his peace and mercy on the departed soul. + </p> + <p> + They begged for a little happiness in heaven for her who had suffered so + much on earth. + </p> + <p> + Fallen into a chair, his head thrown back, the Count de Commarin was more + overwhelmed and more livid than this dead woman, his old love, once so + beautiful. + </p> + <p> + Claire and the doctor hastened to assist him. + </p> + <p> + They undid his cravat, and took off his shirt collar, for he was + suffocating. With the help of the old soldier, whose red, tearful eyes, + told of suppressed grief, they moved the count’s chair to the half-opened + window to give him a little air. Three days before, this scene would have + killed him. But the heart hardens by misfortune, like hands by labour. + </p> + <p> + “His tears have saved him,” whispered the doctor to Claire. + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin gradually recovered, and, as his thoughts became clearer, + his sufferings returned. + </p> + <p> + Prostration follows great mental shocks. Nature seems to collect her + strength to sustain the misfortune. We do not feel all its intensity at + once; it is only afterwards that we realize the extent and profundity of + the evil. + </p> + <p> + The count’s gaze was fixed upon the bed where lay Valerie’s body. There, + then, was all that remained of her. The soul, that soul so devoted and so + tender, had flown. + </p> + <p> + What would he not have given if God would have restored that unfortunate + woman to life for a day, or even for an hour? With what transports of + repentance he would have cast himself at her feet, to implore her pardon, + to tell her how much he detested his past conduct! How had he acknowledged + the inexhaustible love of that angel? Upon a mere suspicion, without + deigning to inquire, without giving her a hearing, he had treated her with + the coldest contempt. Why had he not seen her again? He would have spared + himself twenty years of doubt as to Albert’s birth. Instead of an isolated + existence, he would have led a happy, joyous life. + </p> + <p> + Then he remembered the countess’s death. She also had loved him, and had + died of her love. + </p> + <p> + He had not understood them; he had killed them both. + </p> + <p> + The hour of expiation had come; and he could not say: “Lord, the + punishment is too great.” + </p> + <p> + And yet, what punishment, what misfortunes, during the last five days! + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he stammered, “she predicted it. Why did I not listen to her?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Gerdy’s brother pitied the old man, so severely tried. He held out + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Commarin,” he said, in a grave, sad voice, “my sister forgave you + long ago, even if she ever had any ill feeling against you. It is my turn + to-day; I forgive you sincerely.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” murmured the count, “thank you!” and then he added: + “What a death!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” murmured Claire, “she breathed her last in the idea that her son + was guilty of a crime. And we were not able to undeceive her.” + </p> + <p> + “At least,” cried the count, “her son should be free to render her his + last duties; yes, he must be. Noel!” + </p> + <p> + The advocate had approached his father, and heard all. + </p> + <p> + “I have promised, father,” he replied, “to save him.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time, Mademoiselle d’Arlange was face to face with Noel. + Their eyes met, and she could not restrain a movement of repugnance, which + the advocate perceived. + </p> + <p> + “Albert is already saved,” she said proudly. “What we ask is, that prompt + justice shall be done him; that he shall be immediately set at liberty. + The magistrate now knows the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “The truth?” exclaimed the advocate. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; Albert passed at my house, with me, the evening the crime was + committed.” + </p> + <p> + Noel looked at her surprised; so singular a confession from such a mouth, + without explanation, might well surprise him. + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “I am Mademoiselle Claire d’Arlange, sir,” said she. + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin now quickly ran over all the incidents reported by Claire. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished, Noel replied: “You see, sir, my position at this + moment, to-morrow—” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow?” interrupted the count, “you said, I believe, to-morrow! + Honour demands, sir, that we act to-day, at this moment. You can show your + love for this poor woman much better by delivering her son than by praying + for her.” + </p> + <p> + Noel bowed low. + </p> + <p> + “To hear your wish, sir, is to obey it,” he said; “I go. This evening, at + your house, I shall have the honour of giving you an account of my + proceedings. Perhaps I shall be able to bring Albert with me.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke, and, again embracing the dead woman, went out. + </p> + <p> + Soon the count and Mademoiselle d’Arlange also retired. + </p> + <p> + The old soldier went to the Mayor, to give notice of the death, and to + fulfil the necessary formalities. + </p> + <p> + The nun alone remained, awaiting the priest, which the cure had promised + to send to watch the corpse. + </p> + <p> + The daughter of St. Vincent felt neither fear nor embarrassment, she had + been so many times in a similar position. Her prayers said, she arose and + went about the room, arranging everything as it should be in the presence + of death. She removed all traces of the illness, put away the medicine + bottles, burnt some sugar upon the fire shovel, and, on a table covered + with a white cloth at the head of the bed, placed some lighted candles, a + crucifix with holy water, and a branch of palm. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. + </h2> + <p> + Greatly troubled and perplexed by Mademoiselle d’Arlange’s revelations, M. + Daburon was ascending the stairs that led to the offices of the + investigating magistrates, when he saw old Tabaret coming towards him. The + sight pleased him, and he at once called out: “M. Tabaret!” + </p> + <p> + But the old fellow, who showed signs of the most intense agitation, was + scarcely disposed to stop, or to lose a single minute. + </p> + <p> + “You must excuse me, sir,” he said, bowing, “but I am expected at home.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope, however—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is innocent,” interrupted old Tabaret. “I have already some + proofs; and before three days—But you are going to see Gevrol’s man + with the earrings. He is very cunning, Gevrol; I misjudged him.” + </p> + <p> + And without listening to another word, he hurried away, jumping down three + steps at a times, at the risk of breaking his neck. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon, greatly disappointed, also hastened on. + </p> + <p> + In the passage, on a bench of rough wood before his office door, Albert + sat awaiting him, under the charge of a Garde de Paris. + </p> + <p> + “You will be summoned immediately, sir,” said the magistrate to the + prisoner, as he opened his door. + </p> + <p> + In the office, Constant was talking with a skinny little man, who might + have been taken, from his dress, for a well-to-do inhabitant of + Batignolles, had it not been for the enormous pin in imitation gold which + shone in his cravat, and betrayed the detective. + </p> + <p> + “You received my letters?” asked M. Daburon of his clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Your orders have been executed, sir; the prisoner is without, and here is + M. Martin, who this moment arrived from the neighbourhood of the + Invalides.” + </p> + <p> + “That is well,” said the magistrate in a satisfied tone. And, turning + towards the detective, “Well, M. Martin,” he asked, “what did you see?” + </p> + <p> + “The walls had been scaled, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Lately?” + </p> + <p> + “Five or six days ago.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure of this?” + </p> + <p> + “As sure as I am that I see M. Constant at this moment mending his pen.” + </p> + <p> + “The marks are plain?” + </p> + <p> + “As plain as the nose on my face, sir, if I may so express myself. The + thief—it was done by a thief, I imagine,” continued M. Martin, who + was a great talker—“the thief entered the garden before the rain, + and went away after it, as you had conjectured. This circumstance is easy + to establish by examining the marks on the wall of the ascent and the + descent on the side towards the street. These marks are several abrasions, + evidently made by feet of some one climbing. The first are clean; the + others, muddy. The scamp—he was a nimble fellow—in getting in, + pulled himself up by the strength of his wrists; but when going away, he + enjoyed the luxury of a ladder, which he threw down as soon as he was on + the top of the wall. It is to see where he placed it, by holes made in the + ground by the fellow’s weight; and also by the mortar which has been + knocked away from the top of the wall.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” asked the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet, sir. Three of the pieces of glass which cover the top of the + wall have been removed. Several of the acacia branches, which extend over + the wall have been twisted or broken. Adhering to the thorns of one of + these branches, I found this little piece of lavender kid, which appears + to me to belong to a glove.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate eagerly seized the piece of kid. + </p> + <p> + It had evidently come from a glove. + </p> + <p> + “You took care, I hope, M. Martin,” said M. Daburon, “not to attract + attention at the house where you made this investigation?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir. I first of all examined the exterior of the wall at my + leisure. After that, leaving my hat at a wine shop round the corner, I + called at the Marchioness d’Arlange’s house, pretending to be the servant + of a neighbouring duchess, who was in despair at having lost a favourite, + and, if I may so speak, an eloquent parrot. I was very kindly given + permission to explore the garden; and, as I spoke as disrespectfully as + possible of my pretended mistress they, no doubt, took me for a genuine + servant.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an adroit and prompt fellow, M. Martin,” interrupted the + magistrate. “I am well satisfied with you; and I will report you + favourably at headquarters.” + </p> + <p> + He rang his bell, while the detective, delighted at the praise he had + received, moved backwards to the door, bowing the while. + </p> + <p> + Albert was then brought in. + </p> + <p> + “Have you decided, sir,” asked the investigating magistrate without + preamble, “to give me a true account of how you spent last Tuesday + evening?” + </p> + <p> + “I have already told you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, you have not; and I regret to say that you lied to me.” + </p> + <p> + Albert, at this apparent insult, turned red, and his eyes flashed. + </p> + <p> + “I know all that you did on that evening,” continued the magistrate, + “because justice, as I have already told you, is ignorant of nothing that + it is important for it to know.” + </p> + <p> + Then, looking straight into Albert’s eyes, he continued slowly: “I have + seen Mademoiselle Claire d’Arlange.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing that name, the prisoner’s features, contracted by a firm + resolve not to give way, relaxed. + </p> + <p> + It seemed as though he experienced an immense sensation of delight, like a + man who escapes almost by a miracle from an imminent danger which he had + despaired of avoiding. However, he made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle d’Arlange,” continued the magistrate, “has told me where you + were on Tuesday evening.” + </p> + <p> + Albert still hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I am not setting a trap for you,” added M. Daburon; “I give you my word + of honour. She has told me all, you understand?” + </p> + <p> + This time Albert decided to speak. + </p> + <p> + His explanations corresponded exactly with Claire’s; not one detail more. + Henceforth, doubt was impossible. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle d’Arlange had not been imposed upon. Either Albert was + innocent, or she was his accomplice. + </p> + <p> + Could she knowingly be the accomplice of such an odious crime? No; she + could not even be suspected of it. + </p> + <p> + But who then was the assassin? + </p> + <p> + For, when a crime has been committed, justice demands a culprit. + </p> + <p> + “You see, sir,” said the magistrate severely to Albert, “you did deceive + me. You risked your life, sir, and, what is also very serious, you exposed + me, you exposed justice, to commit a most deplorable mistake. Why did you + not tell me the truth at once?” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle d’Arlange, sir,” replied Albert, “in according me a meeting, + trusted in my honour.” + </p> + <p> + “And you would have died sooner than mention that interview?” interrupted + M. Daburon with a touch of irony. “That is all very fine, sir, and worthy + of the days of chivalry!” + </p> + <p> + “I am not the hero that you suppose, sir,” replied the prisoner simply. + “If I told you that I did not count on Claire, I should be telling a + falsehood. I was waiting for her. I knew that, on learning of my arrest, + she would brave everything to save me. But her friends might have hid it + from her; and that was what I feared. In that event, I do not think, so + far as one can answer for oneself, that I should have mentioned her name.” + </p> + <p> + There was no appearance of bravado. What Albert said, he thought and felt. + M. Daburon regretted his irony. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he said kindly, “you must return to your prison. I cannot release + you yet; but you will be no longer in solitary confinement. You will be + treated with every attention due to a prisoner whose innocence appears + probable.” + </p> + <p> + Albert bowed, and thanked him; and was then removed. + </p> + <p> + “We are now ready for Gevrol,” said the magistrate to his clerk. + </p> + <p> + The chief of detectives was absent: he had been sent for from the + Prefecture of Police; but his witness, the man with the earrings, was + waiting in the passage. + </p> + <p> + He was told to enter. + </p> + <p> + He was one of those short, thick-set men, powerful as oaks, who look as + though they could carry almost any weight on their broad shoulders. + </p> + <p> + His white hair and whiskers set off his features, hardened and tanned by + the inclemency of the weather, the sea winds and the heat of the tropics. + </p> + <p> + He had large callous black hands, with big sinewy fingers which must have + possessed the strength of a vice. + </p> + <p> + Great earrings in the form of anchors hung from his ears. He was dressed + in the costume of a well-to-do Normandy fisherman, out for a holiday. + </p> + <p> + The clerk was obliged to push him into the office, for this son of the + ocean was timid and abashed when on shore. + </p> + <p> + He advanced, balancing himself first on one leg, then on the other, with + that irregular walk of the sailor, who, used to the rolling and tossing of + the waves, is surprised to find anything immovable beneath his feet. + </p> + <p> + To give himself confidence, he fumbled over his soft felt hat, decorated + with little lead medals, like the cap of king Louis XI. of devout memory, + and also adorned with some of that worsted twist made by the young country + girls, on a primitive frame composed of four or five pins stuck in a + hollow cork. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon examined him, and estimated him at a glance. There was no doubt + but that he was the sunburnt man described by one of the witnesses at La + Jonchere. + </p> + <p> + It was also impossible to doubt his honesty. His open countenance + displayed sincerity and good nature. + </p> + <p> + “Your name?” demanded the investigating magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Marie Pierre Lerouge.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you, then, related to Claudine Lerouge?” + </p> + <p> + “I am her husband, sir.” + </p> + <p> + What, the husband of the victim alive, and the police ignorant of his + existence! + </p> + <p> + Thus thought M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + What, then, does this wonderful progress in invention accomplish? + </p> + <p> + To-day, precisely as twenty years ago, when Justice is in doubt, it + requires the same inordinate loss of time and money to obtain the + slightest information. + </p> + <p> + On Friday, they had written to inquire about Claudine’s past life; it was + now Monday, and no reply had arrived. + </p> + <p> + And yet photography was in existence, and the electric telegraph. They had + at their service a thousand means, formerly unknown; and they made no use + of them. + </p> + <p> + “Every one,” said the magistrate, “believed her a widow. She herself + pretended to be one.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for in that way she partly excused her conduct. Besides, it was an + arrangement between ourselves. I had told her that I would have nothing + more to do with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? Well, you know that she is dead, victim of an odious crime?” + </p> + <p> + “The detective who brought me here told me of it, sir,” replied the + sailor, his face darkening. “She was a wretch!” he added in a hollow + voice. + </p> + <p> + “How? You, her husband, accuse her?” + </p> + <p> + “I have but too good reason to do so, sir. Ah, my dead father, who foresaw + it all at the time, warned me! I laughed, when he said, ‘Take care, or she + will dishonour us all.’ He was right. Through her, I have been hunted down + by the police, just like some skulking thief. Everywhere that they + inquired after me with their warrant, people must have said ‘Ah, ha, he + has then committed some crime!’ And here I am before a magistrate! Ah, + sir, what a disgrace! The Lerouges have been honest people, from father to + son, ever since the world began. Inquire of all who have ever had dealings + with me, they will tell you, ‘Lerouge’s word is as good as another man’s + writing.’ Yes, she was a wicked woman; and I have often told her that she + would come to a bad end.” + </p> + <p> + “You told her that?” + </p> + <p> + “More than a hundred times, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Come, my friend, do not be uneasy, your honour is not at stake here, + no one questions it. When did you warn her so wisely?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, a long time ago, sir,” replied the sailor, “the first time was more + than thirty years back. She had ambition even in her blood; she wished to + mix herself up in the intrigues of the great. It was that that ruined her. + She said that one got money for keeping secrets; and I said that one got + disgraced and that was all. To help the great to hide their villainies, + and to expect happiness from it, is like making your bed of thorns, in the + hope of sleeping well. But she had a will of her own.” + </p> + <p> + “You were her husband, though,” objected M. Daburon, “you had the right to + command her obedience.” + </p> + <p> + The sailor shook his head, and heaved a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Alas, sir! it was I who obeyed.” + </p> + <p> + To proceed by short inquiries with a witness, when you have no idea of the + information he brings, is but to lose time in attempting to gain it. When + you think you are approaching the important fact, you may be just avoiding + it. It is much better to give the witness the rein, and to listen + carefully, putting him back on the track should he get too far away. It is + the surest and easiest method. This was the course M. Daburon adopted, all + the time cursing Gevrol’s absence, as he by a single word could have + shortened by a good half the examination, the importance of which, by the + way, the magistrate did not even suspect. + </p> + <p> + “In what intrigues did your wife mingle?” asked he. “Go on, my friend, + tell me everything exactly; here, you know, we must have not only the + truth, but the whole truth.” + </p> + <p> + Lerouge placed his hat on a chair. Then he began alternately to pull his + fingers, making them crack almost sufficiently to break them, and + ultimately scratched his head violently. It was his way of arranging his + ideas. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you,” he began, “that it will be thirty-five years on St. + John’s day since I fell in love with Claudine. She was a pretty, neat, + fascinating girl, with a voice sweeter than honey. She was the most + beautiful girl in our part of the country, straight as a mast, supple as a + willow, graceful and strong as a racing boat. Her eyes sparkled like old + cider; her hair was black, her teeth as white as pearls, and her breath + was as fresh as the sea breeze. The misfortune was, that she hadn’t a sou, + while we were in easy circumstances. Her mother, who was the widow of I + can’t say how many husbands, was, saving your presence, a bad woman, and + my father was the worthiest man alive. When I spoke to the old fellow of + marrying Claudine he swore fiercely, and eight days after, he sent me to + Porto on a schooner belonging to one of our neighbours, just to give me a + change of air. I came back, at the end of six months, thinner than a + marling spike, but more in love than ever. Recollections of Claudine + scorched me like a fire. I could scarcely eat or drink; but I felt that + she loved me a little in return, for I was a fine young fellow, and more + than one girl had set her cap at me. Then my father, seeing that he could + do nothing, that I was wasting away, and was on the road to join my mother + in the cemetery, decided to let me complete my folly. So one evening, + after we had returned from fishing and I got up from supper without + tasting it, he said to me, ‘Marry the hag’s daughter, and let’s have no + more of this.’ I remember it distinctly, because, when I heard the old + fellow call my love such a name, I flew into a great passion, and almost + wanted to kill him. Ah, one never gains anything by marrying in opposition + to one’s parents!” + </p> + <p> + The worthy fellow was lost in the midst of his recollections. He was very + far from his story. The investigating magistrate attempted to bring him + back into the right path, “Come to the point,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to, sir; but it was necessary to begin at the beginning. I + married. The evening after the wedding, and when the relatives and guests + had departed, I was about to join my wife, when I perceived my father all + alone in a corner weeping. The sight touched my heart, and I had a + foreboding of evil; but it quickly passed away. It is so delightful during + the first six months one passes with a dearly loved wife! One seems to be + surrounded by mists that change the very rocks into palaces and temples so + completely that novices are taken in. For two years, in spite of a few + little quarrels, everything went on nicely. Claudine managed me like a + child. Ah, she was cunning! She might have seized and bound me, and + carried me to market and sold me, without my noticing it. Her great fault + was her love of finery. All that I earned, and my business was very + prosperous, she put on her back. Every week there was something new, + dresses, jewels, bonnets, the devil’s baubles, which the dealers invent + for the perdition of the female sex. The neighbors chattered, but I + thought it was all right. At the baptism of our son, who was called + Jacques after my father, to please her, I squandered all I had economized + during my youth, more than three hundred pistoles, with which I had + intended purchasing a meadow that lay in the midst of our property.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was boiling over with impatience, but he could do nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, go on,” he said every time Lerouge seemed inclined to stop. + </p> + <p> + “I was well enough pleased,” continued the sailor, “until one morning I + saw one of the Count de Commarin’s servants entering our house; the + count’s chateau is only about a mile from where I lived on the other side + of the town. It was a fellow named Germain whom I didn’t like at all. It + was said about the country that he had been mixed up in the seduction of + poor Thomassine, a fine young girl who lived near us; she appears to have + pleased the count, and one day suddenly disappeared. I asked my wife what + the fellow wanted; she replied that he had come to ask her to take a child + to nurse. I would not hear of it at first, for our means were sufficient + to allow Claudine to keep all her milk for our own child. But she gave me + the very best of reasons. She said she regretted her past flirtations and + her extravagance. She wished to earn a little money, being ashamed of + doing nothing while I was killing myself with work. She wanted to save, to + economize, so that our child should not be obliged in his turn to go to + sea. She was to get a very good price, that we could save up to go towards + the three hundred pistoles. That confounded meadow, to which she alluded, + decided me.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she not tell you of the commission with which she was charged?” asked + the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + This question astonished Lerouge. He thought that there was good reason to + say that justice sees and knows everything. + </p> + <p> + “Not then,” he answered, “but you will see. Eight days after, the postman + brought a letter, asking her to go to Paris to fetch the child. It arrived + in the evening. ‘Very well,’ said she, ‘I will start to-morrow by the + diligence.’ I didn’t say a word then; but next morning, when she was about + to take her seat in the diligence, I declared that I was going with her. + She didn’t seem at all angry, on the contrary. She kissed me, and I was + delighted. At Paris, she was to call for the little one at a Madame + Gerdy’s, who lived on the Boulevard. We arranged that she should go alone, + while I awaited for her at our inn. After she had gone, I grew uneasy. I + went out soon after, and prowled about near Madame Gerdy’s house, making + inquiries of the servants and others; I soon discovered that she was the + Count de Commarin’s mistress. I felt so annoyed that, if I had been + master, my wife should have come away without the little bastard. I am + only a poor sailor, and I know that a man sometimes forgets himself. One + takes too much to drink, for instance, or goes out on the loose with some + friends; but that a man with a wife and children should live with another + woman and give her what really belongs to his legitimate offspring, I + think is bad—very bad. Is it not so, sir?” + </p> + <p> + The investigating magistrate moved impatiently in his chair. “Will this + man never come to the point,” he muttered. “Yes, you are perfectly right,” + he added aloud; “but never mind your thoughts. Go on, go on!” + </p> + <p> + “Claudine, sir, was more obstinate than a mule. After three days of + violent discussion, she obtained from me a reluctant consent, between two + kisses. Then she told me that we were not going to return home by the + diligence. The lady, who feared the fatigue of the journey for her child, + had arranged that we should travel back by short stages, in her carriage, + and drawn by her horses. For she was kept in grand style. I was ass enough + to be delighted, because it gave me a chance to see the country at my + leisure. We were, therefore, installed with the children, mine and the + other, in an elegant carriage, drawn by magnificent animals, and driven by + a coachman in livery. My wife was mad with joy; she kissed me over and + over again, and chinked handfuls of gold in my face. I felt as foolish as + an honest husband who finds money in his house which he didn’t earn + himself. Seeing how I felt, Claudine, hoping to pacify me, resolved to + tell me the whole truth. ‘See here,’ she said to me,—” + </p> + <p> + Lerouge stopped, and, changing his tone, said, “You understand that it is + my wife who is speaking?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “She said to me, shaking her pocket full of money, ‘See here, my man, we + shall always have as much of this as ever we may want, and this is why: + The count, who also had a legitimate child at the same time as this + bastard, wishes that this one shall bear his name instead of the other; + and this can be accomplished, thanks to me. On the road, we shall meet at + the inn, where we are to sleep, M. Germain and the nurse to whom they have + entrusted the legitimate son. We shall be put in the same room, and, + during the night, I am to change the little ones, who have been purposely + dressed alike. For this the count gives me eight thousand francs down, and + a life annuity of a thousand francs.’” + </p> + <p> + “And you!” exclaimed the magistrate, “you, who call yourself an honest + man, permitted such villainy, when one word would have been sufficient to + prevent it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I beg of you,” entreated Lerouge, “permit me to finish.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, continue!” + </p> + <p> + “I could say nothing at first, I was so choked with rage. I must have + looked terrible. But she, who was generally afraid of me when I was in a + passion, burst out laughing, and said, ‘What a fool you are! Listen, + before turning sour like a bowl of milk. The count is the only one who + wants this change made; and he is the one that’s to pay for it. His + mistress, this little one’s mother, doesn’t want it at all; she merely + pretended to consent, so as not to quarrel with her lover, and because she + has got a plan of her own. She took me aside, during my visit in her room, + and, after having made me swear secrecy on a crucifix, she told me that + she couldn’t bear the idea of separating herself from her babe forever, + and of bringing up another’s child. She added that, if I would agree not + to change the children, and not to tell the count, she would give me ten + thousand francs down, and guarantee me an annuity equal to the one the + count had promised me. She declared, also, that she could easily find out + whether I kept my word, as she had made a mark of recognition on her + little one. She didn’t show me the mark; and I have examined him + carefully, but can’t find it. Do you understand now? I merely take care of + this little fellow here. I tell the count that I have changed the + children; we receive from both sides, and Jacques will be rich. Now kiss + your little wife who has more sense than you, you old dear!’ That, sir, is + word for word what Claudine said to me.” + </p> + <p> + The rough sailor drew from his pocket a large blue-checked handkerchief, + and blew his nose so violently that the windows shook. It was his way of + weeping. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon was confounded. Since the beginning of this sad affair, he had + encountered surprise after surprise. Scarcely had he got his ideas in + order on one point, when all his attention was directed to another. + </p> + <p> + He felt himself utterly routed. What was he about to learn now? He longed + to interrogate quickly, but he saw that Lerouge told his story with + difficulty, laboriously disentangling his recollections; he was guided by + a single thread which the least interruption might seriously entangle. + </p> + <p> + “What Claudine proposed to me,” continued the sailor, “was villainous; and + I am an honest man. But she kneaded me to her will as easily as a baker + kneads dough. She turned my heart topsy-turvy: she made me see white as + snow that which was really as black as ink. How I loved her! She proved to + me that we were wronging no one, that we were making little Jacques’s + fortune, and I was silenced. At evening we arrived at some village; and + the coachman, stopping the carriage before an inn, told us we were to + sleep there. We entered, and who do you think we saw? That scamp, Germain, + with a nurse carrying a child dressed so exactly like the one we had that + I was startled. They had journeyed there, like ourselves, in one of the + count’s carriages. A suspicion crossed my mind. How could I be sure that + Claudine had not invented the second story to pacify me? She was certainly + capable of it. I was enraged. I had consented to the one wickedness, but + not to the other. I resolved not to lose sight of the little bastard, + swearing that they shouldn’t change it; so I kept him all the evening on + my knees, and to be all the more sure, I tied my handkerchief about his + waist. Ah! the plan had been well laid. After supper, some one spoke of + retiring, and then it turned out that there were only two double-bedded + rooms in the house. It seemed as though it had been built expressly for + the scheme. The innkeeper said that the two nurses might sleep in one + room, and Germain and myself in the other. Do you understand, sir? Add to + this, that during the evening I had surprised looks of intelligence + passing between my wife and that rascally servant, and you can imagine how + furious I was. It was conscience that spoke; and I was trying to silence + it. I knew very well that I was doing wrong; and I almost wished myself + dead. Why is it that women can turn an honest man’s conscience about like + a weather-cock with their wheedling?” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon’s only reply was a heavy blow of his fist on the table. + </p> + <p> + Lerouge proceeded more quickly. + </p> + <p> + “As for me, I upset that arrangement, pretending to be too jealous to + leave my wife a minute. They were obliged to give way to me. The other + nurse went up to bed first. Claudine and I followed soon afterwards. My + wife undressed and got into bed with our son and the little bastard. I did + not undress. Under the pretext that I should be in the way of the + children, I installed myself in a chair near the bed, determined not to + shut my eyes, and to keep close watch. I put out the candle, in order to + let the women sleep, though I could not think of doing so myself; and I + thought of my father, and of what he would say, if he ever heard of my + behaviour. Towards midnight, I heard Claudine moving. I held my breath. + She was getting out of bed. Was she going to change the children? Now, I + knew that she was not; then, I felt sure that she was. I was beside + myself, and seizing her by the arm, I commenced to beat her roughly, + giving free vent to all that I had on my heart. I spoke in a loud voice, + the same as when I am on board ship in a storm; I swore like a fiend, I + raised a frightful disturbance. The other nurse cried out as though she + were being murdered. At this uproar, Germain rushed in with a lighted + candle. The sight of him finished me. Not knowing what I was doing, I drew + from my pocket a long Spanish knife, which I always carried, and seizing + the cursed bastard, I thrust the blade through his arm, crying, ‘This way, + at least, he can’t be changed without my knowing it; he is marked for + life!’” + </p> + <p> + Lerouge could scarcely utter another word. Great drops of sweat stood out + upon his brow, then, trickling down his cheeks, lodged in the deep + wrinkles of his face. He panted; but the magistrate’s stern glance + harassed him, and urged him on, like the whip which flogs the negro slave + overcome with fatigue. + </p> + <p> + “The little fellow’s wound,” he resumed, “was terrible. It bled + dreadfully, and he might have died; but I didn’t think of that. I was only + troubled about the future, about what might happen afterwards. I declared + that I would write out all that had occurred, and that everyone should + sign it. This was done; we could all four write. Germain didn’t dare + resist; for I spoke with knife in hand. He wrote his name first, begging + me to say nothing about it to the count, swearing that, for his part, he + would never breathe a word of it, and pledging the other nurse to a like + secrecy.” + </p> + <p> + “And have you kept this paper?” asked M. Daburon. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, and as the detective to whom I confessed all, advised me to + bring it with me, I went to take it from the place where I always kept it, + and I have it here.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + Lerouge took from his coat pocket an old parchment pocket-book, fastened + with a leather thong, and withdrew from it a paper yellowed by age and + carefully sealed. + </p> + <p> + “Here it is,” said he. “The paper hasn’t been opened since that accursed + night.” + </p> + <p> + And, in fact, when the magistrate unfolded it, some dust fell out, which + had been used to keep the writing, when wet, from blotting. + </p> + <p> + It was really a brief description of the scene, described by the old + sailor. The four signatures were there. + </p> + <p> + “What has become of the witnesses who signed this declaration?” murmured + the magistrate, speaking to himself. + </p> + <p> + Lerouge, who thought the question was put to him, replied, “Germain is + dead. I have been told that he was drowned when out rowing. Claudine has + just been assassinated; but the other nurse still lives. I even know that + she spoke of the affair to her husband, for he hinted as much to me. His + name is Brosette, and she lives in the village of Commarin itself.” + </p> + <p> + “And what next?” asked the magistrate, after having taken down the name + and address. + </p> + <p> + “The next day, sir, Claudine managed to pacify me, and extorted a promise + of secrecy. The child was scarcely ill at all; but he retained an enormous + scar on his arm.” + </p> + <p> + “Was Madame Gerdy informed of what took place?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think so, sir. But I would rather say that I do not know.” + </p> + <p> + “What! you do not know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I swear it. You see my ignorance comes from what happened + afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “What happened, then?” + </p> + <p> + The sailor hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “That, sir, concerns only myself, and—” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” interrupted the magistrate, “you are an honest man, I + believe; in fact, I am sure of it. But once in your life, influenced by a + wicked woman, you did wrong, you became an accomplice in a very guilty + action. Repair that error by speaking truly now. All that is said here, + and which is not directly connected with the crime, will remain secret; + even I will forget it immediately. Fear nothing, therefore; and, if you + experience some humiliation, think that it is your punishment for the + past.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, sir,” answered the sailor, “I have been already greatly punished; + and it is a long time since my troubles began. Money, wickedly acquired, + brings no good. On arriving home, I bought the wretched meadow for much + more than it was worth; and the day I walked over it, feeling that is was + actually mine, closed my happiness. Claudine was a coquette; but she had a + great many other vices. When she realised how much money we had these + vices showed themselves, just like a fire, smouldering at the bottom of + the hold, bursts forth when you open the hatches. From slightly greedy as + she had been, she became a regular glutton. In our house there was + feasting without end. Whenever I went to sea, she would entertain the + worst women in the place; and there was nothing too good or too expensive + for them. She would get so drunk that she would have to be put to bed. + Well, one night, when she thought me at Rouen, I returned unexpectedly. I + entered, and found her with a man. And such a man, sir! A miserable + looking wretch, ugly, dirty, stinking; shunned by everyone; in a word the + bailiff’s clerk. I should have killed him, like the vermin that he was; it + was my right, but he was such a pitiful object. I took him by the neck and + pitched him out of the window, without opening it! It didn’t kill him. + Then I fell upon my wife, and beat her until she couldn’t stir.” + </p> + <p> + Lerouge spoke in a hoarse voice, every now and then thrusting his fists + into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I pardoned her,” he continued; “but the man who beats his wife and then + pardons her is lost. In the future, she took better precautions, became a + greater hypocrite, and that was all. In the meanwhile, Madame Gerdy took + back her child; and Claudine had nothing more to restrain her. Protected + and counselled by her mother, whom she had taken to live with us, on the + pretence of looking after Jacques, she managed to deceive me for more than + a year. I thought she had given up her bad habits, but not at all; she + lived a most disgraceful life. My house became the resort of all the + good-for-nothing rogues in the country, for whom my wife brought out + bottles of wine and brandy, whenever I was away at sea, and they got drunk + promiscuously. When money failed, she wrote to the count or his mistress, + and the orgies continued. Occasionally I had doubts which disturbed me; + and then without reason, for a simple yes or no, I would beat her until I + was tired, and then I would forgive her, like a coward, like a fool. It + was a cursed life. I don’t know which gave me the most pleasure, embracing + her or beating her. My neighbors despised me, and turned their backs on + me; they believed me an accomplice or a willing dupe. I heard, afterwards, + that they believed I profited by my wife’s misconduct; while in reality + she paid her lovers. At all events, people wondered where all the money + came from that was spent in my house. To distinguish me from a cousin of + mine, also named Lerouge, they tacked an infamous word on to my name. What + disgrace! And I knew nothing of all the scandal, no, nothing. Was I not + the husband? Fortunately, though, my poor father was dead.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon pitied the speaker sincerely. + </p> + <p> + “Rest a while, my friend,” he said; “compose yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the sailor, “I would rather get through with it quickly. One + man, the priest, had the charity to tell me of it. If ever he should want + Lerouge! Without losing a minute, I went and saw a lawyer, and asked him + how an honest sailor who had had the misfortune to marry a hussy ought to + act. He said that nothing could be done. To go to law was simply to + publish abroad one’s own dishonour, while a separation would accomplish + nothing. When once a man has given his name to a woman, he told me, he + cannot take it back; it belongs to her for the rest of her days, and she + has a right to dispose of it. She may sully it, cover it with mire, drag + it from wine shop to wine shop, and her husband can do nothing. That being + the case, my course was soon taken. That same day, I sold the fatal + meadow, and sent the proceeds of it to Claudine, wishing to keep nothing + of the price of shame. I then had a document drawn up, authorising her to + administer our property, but not allowing her either to sell or mortgage + it. Then I wrote her a letter in which I told her that she need never + expect to hear of me again, that I was nothing more to her, and that she + might look upon herself as a widow. That same night I went away with my + son.” + </p> + <p> + “And what became of your wife after your departure?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot say, sir; I only know that she quitted the neighbourhood a year + after I did.” + </p> + <p> + “You have never lived with her since?” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + “But you were at her house three days before the crime was committed.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, but it was absolutely necessary. I had had much trouble to + find her, no one knew what had become of her. Fortunately my notary was + able to procure Madame Gerdy’s address; he wrote to her, and that is how I + learnt that Claudine was living at La Jonchere. I was then at Rome. + Captain Gervais, who is a friend of mine, offered to take me to Paris on + his boat, and I accepted. Ah, sir, what a shock I experienced when I + entered her house! My wife did not know me! By constantly telling everyone + that I was dead, she had without a doubt ended by believing it herself. + When I told her my name, she fell back in her chair. The wretched woman + had not changed in the least; she had by her side a glass and a bottle of + brandy—” + </p> + <p> + “All this doesn’t explain why you went to seek your wife.” + </p> + <p> + “It was on Jacques’s account, sir, that I went. The youngster has grown to + be a man; and he wants to marry. For that, his mother’s consent was + necessary; and I was taking to Claudine a document which the notary had + drawn up, and which she signed. This is it.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon took the paper, and appeared to read it attentively. After a + moment he asked: “Have you thought who could have assassinated your wife?” + </p> + <p> + Lerouge made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suspect any one?” persisted the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” replied the sailor, “what can I say? I thought that Claudine + had wearied out the people from whom she drew money, like water from a + well; or else getting drunk one day, she had blabbed too freely.” + </p> + <p> + The testimony being as complete as possible, M. Daburon dismissed Lerouge, + at the same time telling him to wait for Gevrol, who would take him to a + hotel, where he might wait, at the disposal of justice, until further + orders. + </p> + <p> + “All your expenses will be paid you,” added the magistrate. + </p> + <p> + Lerouge had scarcely left, when an extraordinary, unheard of, + unprecedented event took place in the magistrate’s office. Constant, the + serious, impressive, immovable, deaf and dumb Constant, rose from his seat + and spoke. + </p> + <p> + He broke a silence of fifteen years. He forgot himself so far as to offer + an opinion. + </p> + <p> + “This, sir,” said he, “is a most extraordinary affair.” + </p> + <p> + Very extraordinary, truly, thought M. Daburon, and calculated to rout all + predictions, all preconceived opinions. + </p> + <p> + Why had he, the magistrate, moved with such deplorable haste? Why before + risking anything, had he not waited to possess all the elements of this + important case, to hold all the threads of this complicated drama? + </p> + <p> + Justice is accused of slowness; but it is this very slowness that + constitutes its strength and surety, its almost infallibility. One + scarcely knows what a time evidence takes to produce itself. There is no + knowing what important testimony investigations apparently useless may + reveal. + </p> + <p> + When the entanglement of the various passions and motives seems hopeless, + an unknown personage presents himself, coming from no one knows where, and + it is he who explains everything. + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon, usually the most prudent of men, had considered as simple one + of the most complex of cases. He had acted in a mysterious crime, which + demanded the utmost caution, as carelessly as though it were a case of + simple misdemeanour. Why? Because his memory had not left him his free + deliberation, judgment, and discernment. He had feared equally appearing + weak and being revengeful. Thinking himself sure of his facts, he had been + carried away by his animosity. And yet how often had he not asked himself: + Where is duty? But then, when one is at all doubtful about duty, one is on + the wrong road. + </p> + <p> + The singular part of it all was that the magistrate’s faults sprang from + his very honesty. He had been led astray by a too great refinement of + conscience. The scruples which troubled him had filled his mind with + phantoms, and had prompted in him the passionate animosity he had + displayed at a certain moment. + </p> + <p> + Calmer now, he examined the case more soundly. As a whole, thank heaven! + there was nothing done which could not be repaired. He accused himself, + however, none the less harshly. Chance alone had stopped him. At that + moment he resolved that he would never undertake another investigation. + His profession henceforth inspired him with an unconquerable loathing. + Then his interview with Claire had re-opened all the old wounds in his + heart, and they bled more painfully than ever. He felt, in despair, that + his life was broken, ruined. A man may well feel so, when all women are as + nothing to him except one, whom he may never dare hope to possess. Too + pious a man to think of suicide, he asked himself with anguish what would + become of him when he threw aside his magistrate’s robes. + </p> + <p> + Then he turned again to the business in hand. In any case, innocent or + guilty, Albert was really the Viscount de Commarin, the count’s legitimate + son. But was he guilty? Evidently he was not. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” exclaimed M. Daburon suddenly, “I must speak to the Count de + Commarin. Constant, send to his house a message for him to come here at + once; if he is not at home, he must be sought for.” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon felt that an unpleasant duty was before him. He would be + obliged to say to the old nobleman: “Sir, your legitimate son is not Noel, + but Albert.” What a position, not only painful, but bordering on the + ridiculous! As a compensation, though, he could tell him that Albert was + innocent. + </p> + <p> + To Noel he would also have to tell the truth: hurl him to earth, after + having raised him among the clouds. What a blow it would be! But, without + a doubt, the count would make him some compensation; at least, he ought + to. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” murmured the magistrate, “who can be the criminal?” + </p> + <p> + An idea crossed his mind, at first it seemed to him absurd. He rejected + it, then thought of it again. He examined it in all its various aspects. + He had almost adopted it, when M. de Commarin entered. M. Daburon’s + messenger had arrived just as the count was alighting from his carriage, + on returning with Claire from Madame Gerdy’s. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. + </h2> + <h3> + Old Tabaret talked, but he acted also. + </h3> + <p> + Abandoned by the investigating magistrate to his own resources, he set to + work without losing a minute and without taking a moment’s rest. + </p> + <p> + The story of the cabriolet, drawn by a swift horse, was exact in every + particular. + </p> + <p> + Lavish with his money, the old fellow had gathered together a dozen + detectives on leave or rogues out of work; and at the head of these worthy + assistants, seconded by his friend Lecoq, he had gone to Bougival. + </p> + <p> + He had actually searched the country, house by house, with the obstinacy + and the patience of a maniac hunting for a needle in a hay-stack. + </p> + <p> + His efforts were not absolutely wasted. + </p> + <p> + After three days’ investigation, he felt comparatively certain that the + assassin had not left the train at Rueil, as all the people of Bougival, + La Jonchere, and Marly do, but had gone on as far as Chatou. + </p> + <p> + Tabaret thought he recognized him in a man described to him by the porters + at that station as rather young, dark, and with black whiskers, carrying + an overcoat and an umbrella. + </p> + <p> + This person, who arrived by the train which left Paris for St. Germain at + thirty-five minutes past eight in the evening, had appeared to be in a + very great hurry. + </p> + <p> + On quitting the station, he had started off at a rapid pace on the road + which led to Bougival. Upon the way, two men from Marly and a woman from + La Malmaison had noticed him on account of his rapid pace. He smoked as he + hurried along. + </p> + <p> + On crossing the bridge which joins the two banks of the Seine at Bougival, + he had been still more noticed. + </p> + <p> + It is usual to pay a toll on crossing this bridge; and the supposed + assassin had apparently forgotten this circumstance. He passed without + paying, keeping up his rapid pace, pressing his elbows to his side, + husbanding his breath, and the gate-keeper was obliged to run after him + for his toll. + </p> + <p> + He seemed greatly annoyed at the circumstance, threw the man a ten sou + piece, and hurried on, without waiting for the nine sous change. + </p> + <p> + Nor was that all. + </p> + <p> + The station master at Rueil remembered, that, two minutes before the + quarter past ten train came up, a passenger arrived very agitated, and so + out of breath that he could scarcely ask for a second class ticket for + Paris. + </p> + <p> + The appearance of this man corresponded exactly with the description given + of him by the porters at Chatou, and by the gatekeeper at the bridge. + </p> + <p> + Finally, the old man thought he was on the track of some one who entered + the same carriage as the breathless passenger. He had been told of a baker + living at Asnieres, and he had written to him, asking him to call at his + house. + </p> + <p> + Such was old Tabaret’s information, when on the Monday morning he called + at the Palais de Justice, in order to find out if the record of Widow + Lerouge’s past life had been received. He found that nothing had arrived, + but in the passage he met Gevrol and his man. + </p> + <p> + The chief of detectives was triumphant, and showed it too. As soon as he + saw Tabaret, he called out, “Well, my illustrious mare’s-nest hunter, what + news? Have you had any more scoundrels guillotined since the other day? + Ah, you old rogue, you want to oust me from my place I can see!” + </p> + <p> + The old man was sadly changed. + </p> + <p> + The consciousness of his mistake made him humble and meek. These + pleasantries, which a few days before would have made him angry, now did + not touch him. Instead of retaliating, he bowed his head in such a + penitent manner that Gevrol was astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Jeer at me, my good M. Gevrol,” he replied, “mock me without pity; you + are right, I deserve it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, come now,” said the chief, “have you then performed some new + masterpiece, you impetuous old fellow?” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “I have delivered up an innocent man,” he said, “and justice will not + restore him his freedom.” + </p> + <p> + Gevrol was delighted, and rubbed his hands until he almost wore away the + skin. + </p> + <p> + “This is fine,” he sang out, “this is capital. To bring criminals to + justice is of no account at all. But to free the innocent, by Jove! that + is the last touch of art. Tirauclair, you are an immense wonder; and I bow + before you.” + </p> + <p> + And at the same time, he raised his hat ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t crush me,” replied the old fellow. “As you know, in spite of my + grey hairs, I am young in the profession. Because chance served me three + or four times, I became foolishly proud. I have learned too late that I am + not all that I had thought myself; I am but an apprentice, and success has + turned my head; while you, M. Gevrol, you are the master of all of us. + Instead of laughing, pray help me, aid me with your advice and your + experience. Alone, I can do nothing, while with your assistance——!” + </p> + <p> + Gevrol is vain in the highest degree. + </p> + <p> + Tabaret’s submission tickled his pretensions as a detective immensely; for + in reality he thought the old man very clever. He was softened. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” he said patronisingly, “you refer to the La Jonchere affair?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! yes, my dear M. Gevrol, I wished to work without you, and I have + got myself into a pretty mess.” + </p> + <p> + Cunning old Tabaret kept his countenance as penitent as that of a + sacristan caught eating meat on a Friday; but he was inwardly laughing and + rejoicing all the while. + </p> + <p> + “Conceited fool!” he thought, “I will flatter you so much that you will + end by doing everything I want.” + </p> + <p> + M. Gevrol rubbed his nose, put out his lower lip, and said, “Ah,—hem!” + </p> + <p> + He pretended to hesitate; but it was only because he enjoyed prolonging + the old amateur’s discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said he at last, “cheer up, old Tirauclair. I’m a good fellow at + heart, and I’ll give you a lift. That’s kind, isn’t it? But, to-day, I’m + too busy, I’ve an appointment to keep. Come to me to-morrow morning, and + we’ll talk it over. But before we part I’ll give you a light to find your + way with. Do you know who that witness is that I’ve brought?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but tell me, my good M. Gevrol.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that fellow on the bench there, who is waiting for M. Daburon, is + the husband of the victim of the La Jonchere tragedy!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible?” exclaimed old Tabaret, perfectly astounded. Then, after + reflecting a moment, he added, “You are joking with me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, upon my word. Go and ask him his name; he will tell you that it is + Pierre Lerouge.” + </p> + <p> + “She wasn’t a widow then?” + </p> + <p> + “It appears not,” replied Gevrol sarcastically, “since there is her happy + spouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” muttered the old fellow. “And does he know anything?” + </p> + <p> + In a few sentences, the chief of detectives related to his amateur + colleague the story that Lerouge was about to tell the investigating + magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to that?” he asked when he came to the end. + </p> + <p> + “What do I say to that?” stammered old Tabaret, whose countenance + indicated intense astonishment; “what do I say to that? I don’t say + anything. But I think,—no, I don’t think anything either!” + </p> + <p> + “A slight surprise, eh?” said Gevrol, beaming. + </p> + <p> + “Say rather an immense one,” replied Tabaret. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly he started, and gave his forehead a hard blow with his fist. + </p> + <p> + “And my baker!” he cried, “I will see you to-morrow, then, M. Gevrol.” + </p> + <p> + “He is crazed,” thought the head detective. + </p> + <p> + The old fellow was sane enough, but he had suddenly recollected the + Asnieres baker, whom he had asked to call at his house. Would he still + find him there? + </p> + <p> + Going down the stairs he met M. Daburon; but, as one has already seen, he + hardly deigned to reply to him. + </p> + <p> + He was soon outside, and trotted off along the quays. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he to himself, “let us consider. Noel is once more plain Noel + Gerdy. He won’t feel very pleased, for he thought so much of having a + great name. Pshaw! if he likes, I’ll adopt him. Tabaret doesn’t sound so + well as Commarin, but it’s at least a name. Anyhow, Gevrol’s story in no + way affects Albert’s situation nor my convictions. He is the legitimate + son; so much the better for him! That however, would not prove his + innocence to me, if I doubted it. He evidently knew nothing of these + surprising circumstances, any more than his father. He must have believed + as well as the count in the substitution having taken place. Madame Gerdy, + too, must have been ignorant of these facts; they probably invented some + story to explain the scar. Yes, but Madame Gerdy certainly knew that Noel + was really her son, for when he was returned to her, she no doubt looked + for the mark she had made on him. Then, when Noel discovered the count’s + letters, she must have hastened to explain to him—” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret stopped as suddenly as if further progress were obstructed by + some dangerous reptile. He was terrified at the conclusion he had reached. + </p> + <p> + “Noel, then, must have assassinated Widow Lerouge, to prevent her + confessing that the substitution had never taken place, and have burnt the + letters and papers which proved it!” + </p> + <p> + But he repelled this supposition with horror, as every honest man drives + away a detestable thought which by accident enters his mind. + </p> + <p> + “What an old idiot I am!” he exclaimed, resuming his walk; “this is the + result of the horrible profession I once gloried in following! Suspect + Noel, my boy, my sole heir, the personification of virtue and honour! + Noel, whom ten years of constant intercourse have taught me to esteem and + admire to such a degree that I would speak for him as I would for myself! + Men of his class must indeed be moved by terrible passions to cause them + to shed blood; and I have always known Noel to have but two passions, his + mother and his profession. And I dare even to breath a suspicion against + this noble soul? I ought to be whipped! Old fool! isn’t the lesson you + have already received sufficiently terrible? Will you never be more + cautious?” + </p> + <p> + Thus he reasoned, trying to dismiss his disquieting thoughts, and + restraining his habits of investigation; but in his heart a tormenting + voice constantly whispered, “Suppose it is Noel.” + </p> + <p> + He at length reached the Rue St. Lazare. Before the door of his house + stood a magnificent horse harnessed to an elegant blue brougham. At the + sight of these he stopped. + </p> + <p> + “A handsome animal!” he said to himself; “my tenants receive some swell + people.” + </p> + <p> + They apparently received visitors of an opposite class also, for, at that + moment, he saw M. Clergeot came out, worthy M. Clergeot, whose presence in + a house betrayed ruin just as surely as the presence of the undertakers + announce a death. The old detective, who knew everybody, was well + acquainted with the worthy banker. He had even done business with him + once, when collecting books. He stopped him and said: “Halloa! you old + crocodile, you have clients, then, in my house?” + </p> + <p> + “So it seems,” replied Clergeot dryly, for he does not like being treated + with such familiarity. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah!” said old Tabaret. And, prompted by the very natural curiosity of + a landlord who is bound to be very careful about the financial condition + of his tenants, he added, “Who the deuce are you ruining now?” + </p> + <p> + “I am ruining no one,” replied M. Clergeot, with an air of offended + dignity. “Have you ever had reason to complain of me whenever we have done + business together? I think not. Mention me to the young advocate up there, + if you like; he will tell you whether he has reason to regret knowing me.” + </p> + <p> + These words produced a painful impression on Tabaret. What, Noel, the + prudent Noel, one of Clergeot’s customers! What did it mean? Perhaps there + was no harm in it; but then he remembered the fifteen thousand francs he + had lent Noel on the Thursday. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, wishing to obtain some more information, “I know that M. + Gerdy spends a pretty round sum.” + </p> + <p> + Clergeot has the delicacy never to leave his clients undefended when + attacked. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t he personally,” he objected, “who makes the money dance; its + that charming little woman of his. Ah, she’s no bigger than your thumb, + but she’d eat the devil, hoofs, horns, and all!” + </p> + <p> + What! Noel had a mistress, a woman whom Clergeot himself, the friend of + such creatures, considered expensive! The revelation, at such a moment, + pierced the old man’s heart. But he dissembled. A gesture, a look, might + awaken the usurer’s mistrust, and close his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “That’s well known,” replied Tabaret in a careless tone. “Youth must have + it’s day. But what do you suppose the wench costs him a year?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know! He made the mistake of not fixing a price with her. + According to my calculation, she must have, during the four years that she + has been under his protection, cost him close upon five hundred thousand + francs.” + </p> + <p> + Four years? Five hundred thousand francs! These words, these figures, + burst like bombshells on old Tabaret’s brain. Half a million! In that + case, Noel was utterly ruined. But then— + </p> + <p> + “It is a great deal,” said he, succeeding by desperate efforts in hiding + his emotion; “it is enormous. M. Gerdy, however, has resources.” + </p> + <p> + “He!” interrupted the usurer, shrugging his shoulders. “Not even that!” he + added, snapping his fingers; “He is utterly cleaned out. But, if he owes + you money, do not be anxious. He is a sly dog. He is going to be married; + and I have just renewed bills of his for twenty-six thousand francs. + Good-bye, M. Tabaret.” + </p> + <p> + The usurer hurried away, leaving the poor old fellow standing like a + milestone in the middle of the pavement. He experienced something of that + terrible grief which breaks a father’s heart when he begins to realize + that his dearly loved son is perhaps the worst of scoundrels. + </p> + <p> + And, yet, such was his confidence in Noel that he again struggled with his + reason to resist the suspicions which tormented him. Perhaps the usurer + had been slandering his friend. People who lend their money at more than + ten per cent are capable of anything. Evidently he had exaggerated the + extent of Noel’s follies. + </p> + <p> + And, supposing it were true? Have not many men done just such insane + things for women, without ceasing to be honest? + </p> + <p> + As he was about to enter his house, a whirlwind of silk, lace, and velvet, + stopped the way. A pretty young brunette came out and jumped as lightly as + a bird into the blue brougham. + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret was a gallant man, and the young woman was most charming, but + he never even looked at her. He passed in, and found his concierge + standing, cap in hand, and tenderly examining a twenty franc piece. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir,” said the man, “such a pretty young person, and so lady-like! If + you had only been here five minutes sooner.” + </p> + <p> + “What lady? why?” + </p> + <p> + “That elegant lady, who just went out, sir; she came to make some + inquiries about M. Gerdy. She gave me twenty francs for answering her + questions. It seems that the gentleman is going to be married; and she was + evidently much annoyed about it. Superb creature! I have an idea that she + is his mistress. I know now why he goes out every night.” + </p> + <p> + “M. Gerdy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, but I never mentioned it to you, because he seemed to wish to + hide it. He never asks me to open the door for him, no, not he. He slips + out by the little stable door. I have often said to myself, ‘Perhaps he + doesn’t want to disturb me; it is very thoughtful on his part, and he + seems to enjoy it so.’” + </p> + <p> + The concierge spoke with his eyes fixed on the gold piece. When he raised + his head to examine the countenance of his lord and master, old Tabaret + had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “There’s another!” said the concierge to himself. “I’ll bet a hundred + sous, that he’s running after the superb creature! Run ahead, go it, old + dotard, you shall have a little bit, but not much, for it’s very + expensive!” + </p> + <p> + The concierge was right. Old Tabaret was running after the lady in the + blue brougham. + </p> + <p> + “She will tell me all,” he thought, and with a bound he was in the street. + He reached it just in time to see the blue brougham turn the corner of the + Rue St. Lazare. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens!” he murmured. “I shall lose sight of her, and yet she can tell + me the truth.” + </p> + <p> + He was in one of those states of nervous excitement which engender + prodigies. He ran to the end of the Rue St. Lazare as rapidly as if he had + been a young man of twenty. + </p> + <p> + Joy! He saw the blue brougham a short distance from him in the Rue du + Havre, stopped in the midst of a block of carriages. + </p> + <p> + “I have her,” said he to himself. He looked all about him, but there was + not an empty cab to be seen. Gladly would he have cried, like Richard the + III., “My kingdom for a cab!” + </p> + <p> + The brougham got out of the entanglement, and started off rapidly towards + the Rue Tronchet. The old fellow followed. + </p> + <p> + He kept his ground. The brougham gained but little upon him. + </p> + <p> + While running in the middle of the street, at the same time looking out + for a cab, he kept saying to himself: “Hurry on, old fellow, hurry on. + When one has no brains, one must use one’s legs. Why didn’t you think to + get this woman’s address from Clergeot? You must hurry yourself, my old + friend, you must hurry yourself! When one goes in for being a detective, + one should be fit for the profession, and have the shanks of a deer.” + </p> + <p> + But he was losing ground, plainly losing ground. He was only halfway down + the Rue Tronchet, and quite tired out; he felt that his legs could not + carry him a hundred steps farther, and the brougham had almost reached the + Madeleine. + </p> + <p> + At last an open cab, going in the same direction as himself, passed by. He + made a sign, more despairing than any drowning man ever made. The sign was + seen. He made a supreme effort, and with a bound jumped into the vehicle + without touching the step. + </p> + <p> + “There,” he gasped, “that blue brougham, twenty francs!” + </p> + <p> + “All right!” replied the coachman, nodding. + </p> + <p> + And he covered his ill-conditioned horse with vigorous blows, muttering, + “A jealous husband following his wife; that’s evident. Gee up!” + </p> + <p> + As for old Tabaret, he was a long time recovering himself, his strength + was almost exhausted. + </p> + <p> + For more than a minute, he could not catch his breath. They were soon on + the Boulevards. He stood up in the cab leaning against the driver’s seat. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see the brougham anywhere,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see it all right, sir. But it is drawn by a splendid horse!” + </p> + <p> + “Yours ought to be a better one. I said twenty francs; I’ll make it + forty.” + </p> + <p> + The driver whipped up his horse most mercilessly, and growled, “It’s no + use, I must catch her. For twenty francs, I would have let her escape; for + I love the girls, and am on their side. But, fancy! Forty francs! I wonder + how such an ugly man can be so jealous.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret tried in every way to occupy his mind with other matters. He + did not wish to reflect before seeing the woman, speaking with her, and + carefully questioning her. + </p> + <p> + He was sure that by one word she would either condemn or save her lover. + </p> + <p> + “What! condemn Noel? Ah, well! yes.” + </p> + <p> + The idea that Noel was the assassin harassed and tormented him, and buzzed + in his brain, like the moth which flies again and again against the window + where it sees a light. + </p> + <p> + As they passed the Chaussee d’Antin, the brougham was scarcely thirty + paces in advance. The cab driver turned, and said: “But the Brougham is + stopping.” + </p> + <p> + “Then stop also. Don’t lose sight of it; but be ready to follow it again + as soon as it goes off.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret leaned as far as he could out of the cab. + </p> + <p> + The young woman alighted, crossed the pavement, and entered a shop where + cashmeres and laces were sold. + </p> + <p> + “There,” thought the old fellow, “is where the thousand franc notes go! + Half a million in four years! What can these creatures do with the money + so lavishly bestowed upon them? Do they eat it? On the altar of what + caprices do they squander these fortunes? They must have the devil’s own + potions which they give to drink to the idiots who ruin themselves for + them. They must possess some peculiar art of preparing and spicing + pleasure; since, once they get hold of a man, he sacrifices everything + before forsaking them.” + </p> + <p> + The cab moved on once more, but soon stopped again. + </p> + <p> + The brougham had made a fresh pause, this time in front of a curiosity + shop. + </p> + <p> + “The woman wants then to buy out half of Paris!” said old Tabaret to + himself in a passion. “Yes, if Noel committed the crime, it was she who + forced him to it. These are my fifteen thousand francs that she is + frittering away now. How long will they last her? It must have been for + money, then, that Noel murdered Widow Lerouge. If so, he is the lowest, + the most infamous of men! What a monster of dissimulation and hypocrisy! + And to think that he would be my heir, if I should die here of rage! For + it is written in my will in so many words, ‘I bequeath to my son, Noel + Gerdy!’ If he is guilty, there isn’t a punishment sufficiently severe for + him. But is this woman never going home?” + </p> + <p> + The woman was in no hurry. The weather was charming, her dress + irresistible, and she intended showing herself off. She visited three or + four more shops, and at last stopped at a confectioner’s, where she + remained for more than a quarter of an hour. + </p> + <p> + The old fellow, devoured by anxiety, moved about and stamped in his cab. + It was torture thus to be kept from the key to a terrible enigma by the + caprice of a worthless hussy! He was dying to rush after her, to seize her + by the arm, and cry out to her: “Home, wretched, creature, home at once! + What are you doing here? Don’t you know that at this moment your lover, he + whom you have ruined, is suspected of an assassination? Home, then, that I + may question you, that I may learn from you whether he is innocent or + guilty. For you will tell me, without knowing it. Ah! I have prepared a + fine trap for you! Go home, then, this anxiety is killing me!” + </p> + <p> + She returned to her carriage. It started off once more, passed up the Rue + de Faubourg Montmarte, turned into the Rue de Provence, deposited its fair + freight at her own door, and drove away. + </p> + <p> + “She lives here,” said old Tabaret, with a sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + He got out of the cab, gave the driver his forty francs, bade him wait, + and followed in the young woman’s footsteps. + </p> + <p> + “The old fellow is patient,” thought the driver; “and the little brunette + is caught.” + </p> + <p> + The detective opened the door of the concierge’s lodge. + </p> + <p> + “What is the name of the lady who just came in?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + The concierge did not seem disposed to reply. + </p> + <p> + “Her name!” insisted the old man. + </p> + <p> + The tone was so sharp, so imperative, that the concierge was upset. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Juliette Chaffour,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “On what floor does she reside?” + </p> + <p> + “On the second, the door opposite the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + A minute later, the old man was waiting in Madame Juliette’s drawing-room. + Madame was dressing, the maid informed him, and would be down directly. + </p> + <p> + Tabaret was astonished at the luxury of the room. There was nothing + flaring or coarse, or in bad taste. It was not at all like the apartment + of a kept woman. The old fellow, who knew a good deal about such things, + saw that everything was of great value. The ornaments on the mantelpiece + alone must have cost, at the lowest estimate, twenty thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + “Clergeot,” thought he, “didn’t exaggerate a bit.” + </p> + <p> + Juliette’s entrance disturbed his reflections. + </p> + <p> + She had taken off her dress, and had hastily thrown about her a loose + black dressing-gown, trimmed with cherry-coloured satin. Her beautiful + hair, slightly disordered after her drive, fell in cascades about her + neck, and curled behind her delicate ears. She dazzled old Tabaret. He + began to understand. + </p> + <p> + “You wished, sir, to speak with me?” she inquired, bowing gracefully. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” replied M. Tabaret, “I am a friend of Noel Gerdy’s, I may say + his best friend, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Pray sit down, sir,” interrupted the young woman. + </p> + <p> + She placed herself on a sofa, just showing the tips of her little feet + encased in slippers matching her dressing-gown, while the old man sat down + in a chair. + </p> + <p> + “I come, madame,” he resumed, “on very serious business. Your presence at + M. Gerdy’s—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” cried Juliette, “he already knows of my visit? Then he must employ a + detective.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear child—” began Tabaret, paternally. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I know, sir, what your errand is. Noel has sent you here to scold me. + He forbade my going to his house, but I couldn’t help it. It’s annoying to + have a puzzle for a lover, a man whom one knows nothing whatever about, a + riddle in a black coat and a white cravat, a sad and mysterious being—” + </p> + <p> + “You have been imprudent.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Because he is going to get married? Why does he not admit it then?” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose that it is not true.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but it is! He told that old shark Clergeot so, who repeated it to me. + Any way, he must be plotting something in that head of his; for the last + month he has been so peculiar, he has changed so, that I hardly recognize + him.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret was especially anxious to know whether Noel had prepared an <i>alibi</i> + for the evening of the crime. For him that was the grand question. If he + had, he was certainly guilty; if not, he might still be innocent. Madame + Juliette, he had no doubt, could enlighten him on that point. + </p> + <p> + Consequently he had presented himself with his lesson all prepared, his + little trap all set. + </p> + <p> + The young woman’s outburst disconcerted him a little; but trusting to the + chances of conversation, he resumed. + </p> + <p> + “Will you oppose Noel’s marriage, then?” + </p> + <p> + “His marriage!” cried Juliette, bursting out into a laugh; “ah, the poor + boy! If he meets no worse obstacle than myself, his path will be smooth. + Let him marry by all means, the sooner the better, and let me hear no more + of him.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t love him, then?” asked the old fellow, surprised at this + amiable frankness. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, sir. I have loved him a great deal, but everything has an end. + For four years, I, who am so fond of pleasure, have passed an intolerable + existence. If Noel doesn’t leave me, I shall be obliged to leave him. I am + tired of having a lover who is ashamed of me and who despises me.” + </p> + <p> + “If he despises you, my pretty lady, he scarcely shows it here,” replied + old Tabaret, casting a significant glance about the room. + </p> + <p> + “You mean,” said she rising, “that he spends a great deal of money on me. + It’s true. He pretends that he has ruined himself on my account; it’s very + possible. But what’s that to me! I am not a grabbing woman; and I would + much have preferred less money and more regard. My extravagance has been + inspired by anger and want of occupation. M. Gerdy treats me like a + mercenary woman; and so I act like one. We are quits.” + </p> + <p> + “You know very well that he worships you.” + </p> + <p> + “He? I tell you he is ashamed of me. He hides me as though I were some + horrible disease. You are the first of his friends to whom I have ever + spoken. Ask him how often he takes me out. One would think that my + presence dishonoured him. Why, no longer ago than last Tuesday, we went to + the theatre! He hired an entire box. But do you think that he sat in it + with me? Not at all. He slipped away and I saw no more of him the whole + evening.” + </p> + <p> + “How so? Were you obliged to return home alone?” + </p> + <p> + “No. At the end of the play, towards midnight, he deigned to reappear. We + had arranged to go to the masked ball at the Opera and then to have some + supper. Ah, it was amusing! At the ball, he didn’t dare to let down his + hood, or take off his mask. At supper, I had to treat him like a perfect + stranger, because some of his friends were present.” + </p> + <p> + This, then, was the <i>alibi</i> prepared in case of trouble. Juliette, + had she been less carried away by her own feelings, would have noticed old + Tabaret’s emotion, and would certainly have held her tongue. He was + perfectly livid, and trembled like a leaf. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, making a great effort to utter the words, “the supper, I + suppose, was none the less gay for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Gay!” echoed the young woman, shrugging her shoulders; “you do not seem + to know much of your friend. If you ever ask him to dinner, take good care + not to give him anything to drink. Wine makes him as merry as a funeral + procession. At the second bottle, he was more tipsy than a cork; so much + so, that he lost nearly everything he had with him: his overcoat, purse, + umbrella, cigar-case—” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret couldn’t sit and listen any longer; he jumped to his feet like + a raving madman. + </p> + <p> + “Miserable wretch!” he cried, “infamous scoundrel! It is he; but I have + him!” + </p> + <p> + And he rushed out, leaving Juliette so terrified that she called her maid. + </p> + <p> + “Child,” said she, “I have just made some awful blunder, have let some + secret out. I am sure that something dreadful is going to happen; I feel + it. That old rogue was no friend of Noel’s, he came to circumvent me, to + lead me by the nose; and he succeeded. Without knowing it I must have + spoken against Noel. What can I have said? I have thought carefully, and + can remember nothing; but he must be warned though. I will write him a + line, while you find a messenger to take it.” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret was soon in his cab and hurrying towards the Prefecture of + Police. Noel an assassin! His hate was without bounds, as formerly had + been his confiding affection. He had been cruelly deceived, unworthily + duped, by the vilest and the most criminal of men. He thirsted for + vengeance; he asked himself what punishment would be great enough for the + crime. + </p> + <p> + “For he not only assassinated Claudine,” thought he, “but he so arranged + the whole thing as to have an innocent man accused and condemned. And who + can say that he did not kill his poor mother?” + </p> + <p> + He regretted the abolition of torture, the refined cruelty of the middle + ages: quartering, the stake, the wheel. The guillotine acts so quickly + that the condemned man has scarcely time to feel the cold steel cutting + through his muscles; it is nothing more than a fillip on the neck. Through + trying so much to mitigate the pain of death, it has now become little + more than a joke, and might be abolished altogether. + </p> + <p> + The certainty of confounding Noel, of delivering him up to justice, of + taking vengeance upon him, alone kept old Tabaret up. + </p> + <p> + “It is clear,” he murmured, “that the wretch forgot his things at the + railway station, in his haste to rejoin his mistress. Will they still be + found there? If he has had the prudence to go boldly, and ask for them + under a false name, I can see no further proofs against him. Madame + Chaffour’s evidence won’t help me. The hussy, seeing her lover in danger, + will deny what she has just told me; she will assert that Noel left her + long after ten o’clock. But I cannot think he has dared to go to the + railway station again.” + </p> + <p> + About half way down the Rue Richelieu, M. Tabaret was seized with a sudden + giddiness. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to have an attack, I fear,” thought he. “If I die, Noel will + escape, and will be my heir. A man should always keep his will constantly + with him, to be able to destroy it, if necessary.” + </p> + <p> + A few steps further on, he saw a doctor’s plate on a door; he stopped the + cab, and rushed into the house. He was so excited, so beside himself, his + eyes had such a wild expression, that the doctor was almost afraid of his + peculiar patient, who said to him hoarsely: “Bleed me!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor ventured an objection; but already the old fellow had taken off + his coat, and drawn up one of his shirtsleeves. + </p> + <p> + “Bleed me!” he repeated. “Do you want me to die?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor finally obeyed, and old Tabaret came out quieted and relieved. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, armed with the necessary power, and accompanied by a + policeman, he proceeded to the lost property office at the St. Lazare + railway station, to make the necessary search. It resulted as he had + expected. He learnt that, on the evening of Shrove Tuesday, there had been + found in one of the second class carriages, of train No. 45, an overcoat + and an umbrella. He was shown the articles; and he at once recognised them + as belonging to Noel. In one of the pockets of the overcoat, he found a + pair of lavender kid gloves, frayed and soiled, as well as a return ticket + from Chatou, which had not been used. + </p> + <p> + In hurrying on, in pursuit of the truth, old Tabaret knew only too well, + what it was. His conviction, unwillingly formed when Clergeot had told him + of Noel’s follies, had since been strengthened in a number of other ways. + When with Juliette, he had felt positively sure, and yet, at this last + moment, when doubt had become impossible, he was, on beholding the + evidence arrayed against Noel, absolutely thunderstruck. + </p> + <p> + “Onwards!” he cried at last. “Now to arrest him.” + </p> + <p> + And, without losing an instant, he hastened to the Palais de Justice, + where he hoped to find the investigating magistrate. Notwithstanding the + lateness of the hour, M. Daburon was still in his office. He was + conversing with the Count de Commarin, having related to him the facts + revealed by Pierre Lerouge whom the count had believed dead many years + before. + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret entered like a whirlwind, too distracted to notice the + presence of a stranger. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he cried, stuttering with suppressed rage, “we have discovered the + real assassin! It is he, my adopted son, my heir, Noel!” + </p> + <p> + “Noel!” repeated M. Daburon, rising. And then in a lower tone, he added, + “I suspected it.” + </p> + <p> + “A warrant is necessary at once,” continued the old fellow. “If we lose a + minute, he will slip through our fingers. He will know that he is + discovered, if his mistress has time to warn him of my visit. Hasten, sir, + hasten!” + </p> + <p> + M. Daburon opened his lips to ask an explanation; but the old detective + continued: “That is not all. An innocent man, Albert, is still in prison.” + </p> + <p> + “He will not be so an hour longer,” replied the magistrate; “a moment + before your arrival, I had made arrangements to have him released. We must + now occupy ourselves with the other one.” + </p> + <p> + Neither old Tabaret nor M. Daburon had noticed the disappearance of the + Count de Commarin. On hearing Noel’s name mentioned, he gained the door + quietly, and rushed out into the passage. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. + </h2> + <p> + Noel had promised to use every effort, to attempt even the impossible, to + obtain Albert’s release. He in fact did interview the Public Prosecutor + and some members of the bar, but managed to be repulsed everywhere. At + four o’clock, he called at the Count de Commarin’s house, to inform his + father of the ill success of his efforts. + </p> + <p> + “The Count has gone out,” said Denis; “but if you will take the trouble to + wait——” + </p> + <p> + “I will wait,” answered Noel. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” replied the valet, “will you please follow me? I have the count’s + orders to show you into his private room.” + </p> + <p> + This confidence gave Noel an idea of his new power. He was at home, + henceforth, in that magnificent house, he was the master, the heir! His + glance, which wandered over the entire room, noticed the genealogical + tree, hanging on the wall. He approached it, and read. + </p> + <p> + It was like a page, and one of the most illustrious, taken from the golden + book of French nobility. Every name which has a place in our history was + there. The Commarins had mingled their blood with all the great families; + two of them had even married daughters of royalty. A warm glow of pride + filled the advocate’s heart, his pulse beat quicker, he raised his head + haughtily, as he murmured, “Viscount de Commarin!” + </p> + <p> + The door opened. He turned, and saw the count entering. As Noel was about + to bow respectfully, he was petrified by the look of hatred, anger, and + contempt on his father’s face. + </p> + <p> + A shiver ran through his veins; his teeth chattered; he felt that he was + lost. + </p> + <p> + “Wretch!” cried the count. + </p> + <p> + And, dreading his own violence, the old nobleman threw his cane into a + corner. He was unwilling to strike his son; he considered him unworthy of + being struck by his hand. Then there was a moment of mortal silence, which + seemed to both of them a century. + </p> + <p> + At the same time their minds were filled with thoughts, which would + require a volume to transcribe. + </p> + <p> + Noel had the courage to speak first. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” exclaimed the count hoarsely; “be silent! Can it be, heaven + forgive me! that you are my son? Alas, I cannot doubt it now! Wretch! you + knew well that you were Madame Gerdy’s son. Infamous villain! you not only + committed this murder, but you did everything to cause an innocent man to + be charged with your crime! Parricide! you have also killed your mother.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate attempted to stammer forth a protest. + </p> + <p> + “You killed her,” continued the count with increased energy, “if not by + poison, at least by your crime. I understand all now; she was not + delirious this morning. But you know as well as I do what she was saying. + You were listening, and, if you dared to enter at that moment when one + word more would have betrayed you, it was because you had calculated the + effect of your presence. It was to you that she addressed her last word, + ‘Assassin!’” + </p> + <p> + Little by little, Noel had retired to the end of the room, and he stood + leaning against the wall, his head thrown back, his hair on end, his look + haggard. A convulsive trembling shook his frame. His face betrayed a + terror most horrible to see, the terror of the criminal found out. + </p> + <p> + “I know all, you see,” continued the count; “and I am not alone in my + knowledge. At this moment, a warrant of arrest is issued against you.” + </p> + <p> + A cry of rage like a hollow rattle burst from the advocate’s breast. His + lips, which were hanging through terror, now grew firm. Overwhelmed in the + very midst of his triumph, he struggled against this fright. He drew + himself up with a look of defiance. + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin, without seeming to pay any attention to Noel, approached + his writing table, and opened a drawer. + </p> + <p> + “My duty,” said he, “would be to leave you to the executioner who awaits + you; but I remember that I have the misfortune to be your father. Sit + down; write and sign a confession of your crime. You will then find + fire-arms in this drawer. May heaven forgive you!” + </p> + <p> + The old nobleman moved towards the door. Noel with a sign stopped him, and + drawing at the same time a revolver from his pocket, he said: “Your + fire-arms are needless, sir; my precautions, as you see, are already + taken; they will never catch me alive. Only——” + </p> + <p> + “Only?” repeated the count harshly. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you, sir,” continued the advocate coldly, “that I do not + choose to kill myself—at least, not at present.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried M. de Commarin in disgust, “you are a coward!” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, not a coward; but I will not kill myself until I am sure that + every opening is closed against me, that I cannot save myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Miserable wretch!” said the count, threateningly, “must I then do it + myself?” + </p> + <p> + He moved towards the drawer, but Noel closed it with a kick. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, sir,” said he, in that hoarse, quick tone, which men use in + moments of imminent danger, “do not let us waste in vain words the few + moments’ respite left me. I have committed a crime, it is true, and I do + not attempt to justify it; but who laid the foundation of it, if not + yourself? Now, you do me the favor of offering me a pistol. Thanks. I must + decline it. This generosity is not through any regard for me. You only + wish to avoid the scandal of my trial, and the disgrace which cannot fail + to reflect upon your name.” + </p> + <p> + The count was about to reply. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me,” interrupted Noel imperiously. “I do not choose to kill + myself; I wish to save my life, if possible. Supply me with the means of + escape; and I promise you that I will sooner die than be captured. I say, + supply me with means, for I have not twenty francs in the world. My last + thousand franc note was nearly all gone the day when—you understand + me. There isn’t sufficient money at home to give my mother a decent + burial. Therefore, I say, give me some money.” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will deliver myself up to justice, and you will see what will + happen to the name you hold so dear!” + </p> + <p> + The count, mad with rage, rushed to his table for a pistol. Noel placed + himself before him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not let us have any struggle,” said he coldly; “I am the + strongest.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Commarin recoiled. By thus speaking of the trial, of the scandal and + of the disgrace, the advocate had made an impression upon him. + </p> + <p> + For a moment hesitating between love for his name and his burning desire + to see this wretch punished, the old nobleman stood undecided. + </p> + <p> + Finally his feeling for his rank triumphed. + </p> + <p> + “Let us end this,” he said in a tremulous voice, filled with the utmost + contempt; “let us end this disgraceful scene. What do you demand of me?” + </p> + <p> + “I have already told you, money, all that you have here. But make up your + mind quickly.” + </p> + <p> + On the previous Saturday the count had withdrawn from his bankers the sum + he had destined for fitting up the apartments of him whom he thought was + his legitimate child. + </p> + <p> + “I have eighty thousand francs here,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “That’s very little,” said the advocate; “but give them to me. I will tell + you though that I had counted on you for five hundred thousand francs. If + I succeed in escaping my pursuers, you must hold at my disposal the + balance, four hundred and twenty thousand francs. Will you pledge yourself + to give them to me at the first demand? I will find some means of sending + for them, without any risk to myself. At that price, you need never fear + hearing of me again.” + </p> + <p> + By way of reply, the count opened a little iron chest imbedded in the + wall, and took out a roll of bank notes, which he threw at Noel’s feet. + </p> + <p> + An angry look flashed in the advocate’s eyes, as he took one step towards + his father. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! take care!” he said threateningly; “people who, like me, have nothing + to lose are dangerous. I can yet give myself up, and——” + </p> + <p> + He stooped down, however, and picked up the notes. + </p> + <p> + “Will you give me your word,” he continued, “to let me have the rest + whenever I ask for them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am going. Do not fear, I will be faithful to our compact, they + shall not take me alive. Adieu, my father! in all this you are the true + criminal, but you alone will go unpunished. Ah, heaven is not just. I + curse you!” + </p> + <p> + When, an hour later, the servants entered the count’s room, they found him + stretched on the floor with his face against the carpet, and showing + scarcely a sign of life. + </p> + <p> + On leaving the Commarin house, Noel staggered up the Rue de l’Universite. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him that the pavement oscillated beneath his feet, and that + everything about him was turning round. His mouth was parched, his eyes + were burning, and every now and then a sudden fit of sickness overcame + him. + </p> + <p> + But, at the same time, strange to relate, he felt an incredible relief, + almost delight. It was ended then, all was over; the game was lost. No + more anguish now, no more useless fright and foolish terrors, no more + dissembling, no more struggles. Henceforth he had nothing more to fear. + His horrible part being played to the bitter end, he could now lay aside + his mask and breathe freely. + </p> + <p> + An irresistible weariness succeeded the desperate energy which, in the + presence of the count, had sustained his impudent arrogance. All the + springs of his organization, stretched for more than a week past far + beyond their ordinary limits, now relaxed and gave way. The fever which + for the last few days had kept him up failed him now; and, with the + weariness, he felt an imperative need of rest. He experienced a great + void, an utter indifference for everything. + </p> + <p> + His insensibility bore a striking resemblance to that felt by persons + afflicted with sea-sickness, who care for nothing, whom no sensations are + capable of moving, who have neither strength nor courage to think, and who + could not be aroused from their lethargy by the presence of any great + danger, not even of death itself. + </p> + <p> + Had any one come to him then he would never have thought of resisting, nor + of defending himself; he would not have taken a step to hide himself, to + fly, to save his head. + </p> + <p> + For a moment he had serious thoughts of giving himself up, in order to + secure peace, to gain quiet, to free himself from the anxiety about his + safety. + </p> + <p> + But he struggled against this dull stupor, and at last the reaction came, + shaking off this weakness of mind and body. + </p> + <p> + The consciousness of his position, and of his danger, returned to him. He + foresaw, with horror, the scaffold, as one sees the depth of the abyss by + the lightning flashes. + </p> + <p> + “I must save my life,” he thought; “but how?” + </p> + <p> + That mortal terror which deprives the assassin of even ordinary common + sense seized him. He looked eagerly about him, and thought he noticed + three or four passers-by look at him curiously. His terror increased. + </p> + <p> + He began running in the direction of the Latin quarter without purpose, + without aim, running for the sake of running, to get away, like Crime, as + represented in paintings, fleeing under the lashes of the Furies. + </p> + <p> + He very soon stopped, however, for it occurred to him that this + extraordinary behaviour would attract attention. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him that everything in him betokened the murderer; he thought + he read contempt and horror upon every face, and suspicion in every eye. + </p> + <p> + He walked along, instinctively repeating to himself: “I must do + something.” + </p> + <p> + But he was so agitated that he was incapable of thinking or of planning + anything. + </p> + <p> + When he still hesitated to commit the crime, he had said to himself; “I + may be discovered.” And with that possibility in view, he had perfected a + plan which should put him beyond all fear of pursuit. He would do this and + that; he would have recourse to this ruse, he would take that precaution. + Useless forethought! Now, nothing he had imagined seemed feasible. The + police were seeking him, and he could think of no place in the whole world + where he would feel perfectly safe. + </p> + <p> + He was near the Odeon theatre, when a thought quicker than a flash of + lightning lit up the darkness of his brain. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to him that as the police were doubtless already in pursuit of + him, his description would soon be known to everyone, his white cravat and + well trimmed whiskers would betray him as surely as though he carried a + placard stating who he was. + </p> + <p> + Seeing a barber’s shop, he hurried to the door; but, when on the point of + turning the handle, he grew frightened. + </p> + <p> + The barber might think it strange that he wanted his whiskers shaved off, + and supposing he should question him! + </p> + <p> + He passed on. + </p> + <p> + He soon saw another barber’s shop, but the same fears as before again + prevented his entering. + </p> + <p> + Gradually night had fallen, and, with the darkness, Noel seemed to recover + his confidence and boldness. + </p> + <p> + After this great shipwreck in port, hope rose to the surface. Why should + he not save himself? There had been many just such cases. He could go to a + foreign country, change his name, begin his life over again, become a new + man entirely. He had money; and that was the main thing. + </p> + <p> + And, besides, as soon as his eighty thousand francs were spent, he had the + certainty of receiving, on his first request, five or six times as much + more. + </p> + <p> + He was already thinking of the disguise he should assume, and of the + frontier to which he should proceed, when the recollection of Juliette + pierced his heart like a red hot iron. + </p> + <p> + Was he going to leave without her, going away with the certainty of never + seeing her again? What! he would fly, pursued by all the police of the + civilized world, tracked like a wild beast, and she would remain peaceably + in Paris? Was it possible? For whom then had he committed this crime? For + her. Who would have reaped the benefits of it? She. Was it not just, then, + that she should bear her share of the punishment? + </p> + <p> + “She does not love me,” thought the advocate bitterly, “she never loved + me. She would be delighted to be forever free of me. She will not regret + me, for I am no longer necessary to her. An empty coffer is a useless + piece of furniture. Juliette is prudent; she has managed to save a nice + little fortune. Grown rich at my expense, she will take some other lover. + She will forget me, she will live happily, while I—And I was about + to go away without her!” + </p> + <p> + The voice of prudence cried out to him: “Unhappy man! to drag a woman + along with you, and a pretty woman too, is but to stupidly attract + attention upon you, to render flight impossible, to give yourself up like + a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “What of that?” replied passion. “We will be saved or we will perish + together. If she does not love me, I love her; I must have her! She will + come, otherwise—” + </p> + <p> + But how to see Juliette, to speak with her, to persuade her. To go to her + house, was a great risk for him to run. The police were perhaps there + already. + </p> + <p> + “No,” thought Noel; “no one knows that she is my mistress. It will not be + found out for two or three days and, besides, it would be more dangerous + still to write.” + </p> + <p> + He took a cab not far from the Carrefour de l’Observatoire, and in a low + tone told the driver the number of the house in the Rue de Provence, which + had proved so fatal to him. Stretched on the cushions of the cab, lulled + by its monotonous jolts, Noel gave no thought to the future, he did not + even think over what he should say to Juliette. No. He passed + involuntarily in review the events which had brought on and hastened the + catastrophe, like a man on the point of death, reviews the tragedy or the + comedy of his life. + </p> + <p> + Just one month before, ruined, at the end of his expedients and absolutely + without resources, he had determined, cost what it might, to procure + money, so as to be able to continue to keep Madame Juliette, when chance + placed in his hands Count de Commarin’s correspondence. Not only the + letters read to old Tabaret, and shown to Albert, but also those, which, + written by the count when he believed the substitution an accomplished + fact, plainly established it. + </p> + <p> + The reading of these gave him an hour of mad delight. + </p> + <p> + He believed himself the legitimate son; but his mother soon undeceived + him, told him the truth, proved to him by several letters she had received + from Widow Lerouge, called on Claudine to bear witness to it, and + demonstrated it to him by the scar he bore. + </p> + <p> + But a falling man never selects the branch he tries to save himself by. + Noel resolved to make use of the letters all the same. + </p> + <p> + He attempted to induce his mother to leave the count in his ignorance, so + that he might thus blackmail him. But Madame Gerdy spurned the proposition + with horror. + </p> + <p> + Then the advocate made a confession of all his follies, laid bare his + financial condition, showed himself in his true light, sunk in debt; and + he finally begged his mother to have recourse to M. de Commarin. + </p> + <p> + This also she refused, and prayers and threats availed nothing against her + resolution. For a fortnight, there was a terrible struggle between mother + and son, in which the advocate was conquered. + </p> + <p> + It was then that the idea of murdering Claudine occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + The unhappy woman had not been more frank with Madame Gerdy than with + others, so that Noel really thought her a widow. Therefore, her testimony + suppressed, who else stood in his way? + </p> + <p> + Madame Gerdy, and perhaps the count. He feared them but little. If Madame + Gerdy spoke, he could always reply: “After stealing my name for your son, + you will do everything in the world to enable him to keep it.” But how to + do away with Claudine without danger to himself? + </p> + <p> + After long reflection, the advocate thought of a diabolical stratagem. + </p> + <p> + He burnt all the count’s letters establishing the substitution, and he + preserved only those which made it probable. + </p> + <p> + These last he went and showed to Albert, feeling sure, that, should + justice ever discover the reason of Claudine’s death, it would naturally + suspect he who appeared to have most interest in it. + </p> + <p> + Not that he really wished Albert to be suspected of the crime, it was + simply a precaution. He thought that he could so arrange matters that the + police would waste their time in the pursuit of an imaginary criminal. + </p> + <p> + Nor did he think of ousting the Viscount de Commarin and putting himself + in his place. His plan was simply this; the crime once committed, he would + wait; things would take their own course, there would be negotiations, and + ultimately he would compromise the matter at the price of a fortune. + </p> + <p> + He felt sure of his mother’s silence, should she ever suspect him guilty + of the assassination. + </p> + <p> + His plan settled, he decided to strike the fatal blow on the Shrove + Tuesday. + </p> + <p> + To neglect no precaution, he, that very same evening, took Juliette to the + theatre, and afterwards to the masked ball at the opera. In case things + went against him, he thus secured an unanswerable <i>alibi</i>. + </p> + <p> + The loss of his overcoat only troubled him for a moment. On reflection, he + reassured himself, saying: “Pshaw! who will ever know?” + </p> + <p> + Everything had resulted in accordance with his calculations; it was, in + his opinion, a matter of patience. + </p> + <p> + But when Madame Gerdy read the account of the murder, the unhappy woman + divined her son’s work, and, in the first paroxysms of her grief, she + declared that she would denounce him. + </p> + <p> + He was terrified. A frightful delirium had taken possession of his mother. + One word from her might destroy him. Putting a bold face on it, however, + he acted at once and staked his all. + </p> + <p> + To put the police on Albert’s track was to guarantee his own safety, to + insure to himself, in the event of a probable success, Count de Commarin’s + name and fortune. + </p> + <p> + Circumstances, as well as his own terror, increased his boldness and his + ingenuity. + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret’s visit occurred just at the right moment. + </p> + <p> + Noel knew of his connection with the police, and guessed that the old + fellow would make a most valuable confidant. + </p> + <p> + So long as Madame Gerdy lived, Noel trembled. In her delirium she might + betray him at any moment. But when she had breathed her last, he believed + himself safe. He thought it all over, he could see no further obstacle in + his way; he was sure he had triumphed. + </p> + <p> + And now all was discovered, just as he was about to reach the goal of his + ambition. But how? By whom? What fatality had resuscitated a secret which + he had believed buried with Madame Gerdy? + </p> + <p> + But where is the use, when one is at the bottom of an abyss, of knowing + which stone gave way, or of asking down what side one fell? + </p> + <p> + The cab stopped in the Rue de Provence. Noel leaned out of the door, his + eyes exploring the neighbourhood and throwing a searching glance into the + depths of the hall of the house. Seeing no one, he paid the fare through + the front window, before getting out of the cab, and, crossing the + pavement with a bound, he rushed up stairs. + </p> + <p> + Charlotte, at sight of him, gave a shout of joy. + </p> + <p> + “At last it is you, sir!” she cried. “Ah, madame has been expecting you + with the greatest impatience! She has been very anxious.” + </p> + <p> + Juliette expecting him! Juliette anxious! + </p> + <p> + The advocate did not stop to ask questions. On reaching this spot, he + seemed suddenly to recover all his composure. He understood his + imprudence; he knew the exact value of every minute he delayed here. + </p> + <p> + “If any one rings,” said he to Charlotte, “don’t open the door. No matter + what may be said or done, don’t open the door!” + </p> + <p> + On hearing Noel’s voice, Juliette ran out to meet him. He pushed her + gently into the salon, and followed, closing the door. + </p> + <p> + There for the first time she saw his face. + </p> + <p> + He was so changed; his look was so haggard that she could not keep from + crying out, “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Noel made no reply; he advanced towards her and took her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Juliette,” he demanded in a hollow voice, fastening his flashing eyes + upon her,—“Juliette, be sincere; do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + She instinctively felt that something dreadful had occurred: she seemed to + breathe an atmosphere of evil; but she, as usual, affected indifference. + </p> + <p> + “You ill-natured fellow,” she replied, pouting her lips most provokingly, + “do you deserve—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, enough!” broke in Noel, stamping his feet fiercely. “Answer me,” he + continued, bruising her pretty hands in his grasp, “yes, or no,—do + you love me?” + </p> + <p> + A hundred times had she played with her lover’s anger, delighting to + excite him into a fury, to enjoy the pleasure of appeasing him with a + word; but she had never seen him like this before. + </p> + <p> + She had wronged him greatly; and she dared not complain of this his first + harshness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I love you,” she stammered, “do you not know it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” replied the advocate, releasing her hands; “why? Because, if you + love me you must prove it; if you love me, you must follow me at once,—abandon + everything. Come, fly with me. Time presses——” + </p> + <p> + The young girl was terrified. + </p> + <p> + “Great heavens! what has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, except that I have loved you too much, Juliette. When I found I + had no more money for your luxury, your caprices, I became wild. To + procure money, I,—I committed a crime,—a crime; do you + understand? They are pursuing me now. I must fly: will you follow me?” + </p> + <p> + Juliette’s eyes grew wide with astonishment; but she doubted Noel. + </p> + <p> + “A crime? You?” she began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, me! Would you know the truth? I have committed murder, an + assassination. But it was all for you.” + </p> + <p> + The advocate felt that Juliette would certainly recoil from him in horror. + He expected that terror which a murderer inspires. He was resigned to it + in advance. He thought that she would fly from him; perhaps there would be + a scene. She might, who knows, have hysterics; might cry out, call for + succor, for help, for aid. He was wrong. + </p> + <p> + With a bound, Juliette flew to him, throwing herself upon him, her arms + about his neck, and embraced him as she had never embraced him before. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do love you!” she cried. “Yes, you have committed a crime for my + sake, because you loved me. You have a heart. I never really knew you + before!” + </p> + <p> + It had cost him dear to inspire this passion in Madame Juliette; but Noel + never thought of that. + </p> + <p> + He experienced a moment of intense delight: nothing appeared hopeless to + him now. + </p> + <p> + But he had the presence of mind to free himself from her embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go,” he said; “the one great danger is, that I do not know from + whence the attack comes. How they have discovered the truth is still a + mystery to me.” + </p> + <p> + Juliette remembered her alarming visitor of the afternoon; she understood + it all. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a wretched woman I am!” she cried, wringing her hands in + despair; “it is I who have betrayed you. It occurred on Tuesday, did it + not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Tuesday.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then I have told all, without a doubt, to your friend, the old man I + supposed you had sent, Tabaret!” + </p> + <p> + “Has Tabaret been here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; just a little while ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, then,” cried Noel, “quickly; it’s a miracle that he hasn’t been + back.” + </p> + <p> + He took her arm, to hurry her away; but she nimbly released herself. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” said she. “I have some money, some jewels. I will take them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is useless. Leave everything behind. I have a fortune, Juliette; let + us fly!” + </p> + <p> + She had already opened her jewel box, and was throwing everything of value + that she possessed pell mell into a little travelling bag. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you are ruining me,” cried Noel, “you are ruining me!” + </p> + <p> + He spoke thus; but his heart was overflowing with joy. + </p> + <p> + “What sublime devotion! She loves me truly,” he said to himself; “for my + sake, she renounces her happy life without hesitation; for my sake, she + sacrifices all!” + </p> + <p> + Juliette had finished her preparations, and was hastily tying on her + bonnet, when the door-bell rang. + </p> + <p> + “It is the police!” cried Noel, becoming, if possible, even more livid. + </p> + <p> + The young woman and her lover stood as immovable as two statues, with + great drops of perspiration on their foreheads, their eyes dilated, and + their ears listening intently. A second ring was heard, then a third. + </p> + <p> + Charlotte appeared walking on tip-toe. + </p> + <p> + “There are several,” she whispered; “I heard them talking together.” + </p> + <p> + Grown tired of ringing, they knocked loudly on the door. The sound of a + voice reached the drawing-room, and the word “law” was plainly heard. + </p> + <p> + “No more hope!” murmured Noel. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t despair,” cried Juliette; “try the servants’ staircase!” + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure they have not forgotten it.” + </p> + <p> + Juliette went to see, and returned dejected and terrified. She had + distinguished heavy foot-steps on the landing, made by some one + endeavouring to walk softly. + </p> + <p> + “There must be some way of escape!” she cried fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Noel, “one way. I have given my word. They are picking the + lock. Fasten all the doors, and let them break them down; it will give me + time.” + </p> + <p> + Juliette and Charlotte ran to carry out his directions. Then Noel, leaning + against the mantel piece, seized his revolver and pointed it at his + breast. + </p> + <p> + But Juliette, who had returned, perceiving the movement, threw herself + upon her lover, but so violently that the revolver turned aside and went + off. The shot took effect, the bullet entering Noel’s stomach. He uttered + a frightful cry. + </p> + <p> + Juliette had made his death a terrible punishment; she had prolonged his + agony. + </p> + <p> + He staggered, but remained standing, supporting himself by the mantel + piece, while the blood flowed copiously from his wound. + </p> + <p> + Juliette clung to him, trying to wrest the revolver from his grasp. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not kill yourself,” she cried, “I will not let you. You are + mine; I love you! Let them come. What can they do to you? If they put you + in prison, you can escape. I will help you, we will bribe the jailors. Ah, + we will live so happily together, no matter where, far away in America + where no one knows us!” + </p> + <p> + The outer door had yielded; the police were now picking the lock of the + door of the ante-chamber. + </p> + <p> + “Let me finish!” murmured Noel; “they must not take me alive!” + </p> + <p> + And, with a supreme effort, triumphing over his dreadful agony, he + released himself, and roughly pushed Juliette away. She fell down near the + sofa. + </p> + <p> + Then, he once more aimed his revolver at the place where he felt his heart + beating, pulled the trigger and rolled to the floor. + </p> + <p> + It was full time, for the police at that moment entered the room. + </p> + <p> + Their first thought was, that before shooting himself, Noel had shot his + mistress. They knew of cases where people had romantically desired to quit + this world in company; and, moreover, had they not heard two reports? But + Juliette was already on her feet again. + </p> + <p> + “A doctor,” she cried, “a doctor! He can not be dead!” + </p> + <p> + One man ran out; while the others, under old Tabaret’s direction, raised + the body, and carried it to Madame Juliette’s bedroom where they laid it + on the bed. + </p> + <p> + “For his sake, I trust his wounds are mortal!” murmured the old detective, + whose anger left him at the sight. “After all, I loved him as though he + were my own child; his name is still in my will!” + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret stopped. Noel just then uttered a groan, and opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You see that he will live!” cried Juliette. + </p> + <p> + The advocate shook his head feebly, and, for a moment, he tossed about + painfully on the bed, passing his right hand first under his coat, and + then under his pillow. He even succeeded in turning himself half-way + towards the wall and then back again. + </p> + <p> + Upon a sign, which was at once understood, someone placed another pillow + under his head. Then in a broken, hissing voice, he uttered a few words: + “I am the assassin,” he said. “Write it down, I will sign it; it will + please Albert. I owe him that at least.” + </p> + <p> + While they were writing, he drew Juliette’s head close to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “My fortune is beneath the pillow,” he whispered. “I give it all to you.” + </p> + <p> + A flow of blood rose to his mouth; and they all thought him dead. But he + still had strength enough to sign his confession, and to say jestingly to + M. Tabaret, “Ah, ha, my friend, so you go in for the detective business, + do you! It must be great fun to trap one’s friends in person! Ah, I have + had a fine game; but, with three women in the play, I was sure to lose.” + </p> + <p> + The death struggle commenced, and, when the doctor arrived, he could only + announce the decease of M. Noel Gerdy, advocate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. + </h2> + <p> + Some months later, one evening, at old Mademoiselle de Goello’s house, the + Marchioness d’Arlange, looking ten years younger than when we saw her + last, was giving her dowager friends an account of the wedding of her + granddaughter Claire, who had just married the Viscount Albert de + Commarin. + </p> + <p> + “The wedding,” said she, “took place on our estate in Normandy, without + any flourish of trumpets. My son-in-law wished it; for which I think he is + greatly to blame. The scandal raised by the mistake of which he had been + the victim, called for a brilliant wedding. That was my opinion, and I did + not conceal it. But the boy is as stubborn as his father, which is saying + a good deal; he persisted in his obstinacy. And my impudent granddaughter, + obeying beforehand her future husband, also sided against me. It is, + however, of no consequence; I defy anyone to find to-day a single + individual with courage enough to confess that he ever for an instant + doubted Albert’s innocence. I have left the young people in all the bliss + of the honeymoon, billing and cooing like a pair of turtle doves. It must + be admitted that they have paid dearly for their happiness. May they be + happy then, and may they have lots of children, for they will have no + difficulty in bringing them up and in providing for them. I must tell you + that, for the first time in his life, and probably for the last, the Count + de Commarin has behaved like an angel! He has settled all his fortune on + his son, absolutely all. He intends living alone on one of his estates. I + am afraid the poor dear old man will not live long. I am not sure that he + has entirely recovered from that last attack. Anyhow, my grandchild is + settled, and grandly too. I know what it has cost me, and how economical I + shall have to be. But I do not think much of those parents who hesitate at + any pecuniary sacrifice when their children’s happiness is at stake.” + </p> + <p> + The marchioness forgot, however, to state that, a week before the wedding, + Albert freed her from a very embarrassing position, and had discharged a + considerable amount of her debts. + </p> + <p> + Since then, she had not borrowed more than nine thousand francs of him; + but she intends confessing to him some day how greatly she is annoyed by + her upholsterer, by her dressmaker, by three linen drapers, and by five or + six other tradesmen. + </p> + <p> + Ah, well, she is all the same a worthy woman; she never says anything + against her son-in-law! + </p> + <p> + Retiring to his father’s home in Poitou, after sending in his resignation, + M. Daburon has at length found rest; forgetfulness will come later on. His + friends do not yet despair of inducing him to marry. + </p> + <p> + Madame Juliette is quite consoled for the loss of Noel. The eighty + thousand francs hidden by him under the pillow were not taken from her. + They are nearly all gone now though. Before long the sale of a handsome + suite of furniture will be announced. + </p> + <p> + Old Tabaret, alone, is indelibly impressed. After having believed in the + infallibility of justice, he now sees every where nothing but judicial + errors. + </p> + <p> + The ex-amateur detective doubts the very existence of crime, and maintains + that the evidence of one’s senses proves nothing. He circulates petitions + for the abolition of capital punishment, and has organised a society for + the defence of poor and innocent prisoners. + </p> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WIDOW LEROUGE ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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