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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75258-0.txt b/75258-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8fd6ffc --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11295 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75258 *** + + + The Perfume of the Lady in Black + + +[Illustration] + + + THE PERFUME OF + THE LADY IN BLACK + + By GASTON LEROUX + + _Author of “The Mystery of the Yellow Room”_ + + NEW YORK + BRENTANO’S + 1909 + + + + + Copyright, 1909, by + BRENTANO’S + + + + + CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I WHICH BEGINS WHERE MOST ROMANCES + END 9 + + II IN WHICH THERE IS QUESTION OF THE + CHANGING HUMORS OF JOSEPH ROULETABILLE 24 + + III THE PERFUME 31 + + IV EN ROUTE 45 + + V PANIC 60 + + VI THE FORT OF HERCULES 83 + + VII WHICH TELLS OF SOME PRECAUTIONS + TAKEN BY JOSEPH ROULETABILLE TO + DEFEND THE FORT OF HERCULES + AGAINST THE ATTACKS OF AN ENEMY 102 + + VIII WHICH CONTAINS SOME PAGES FROM THE + HISTORY OF JEAN-ROUSSEL-LARSAN + BALLMEYER 126 + + IX IN WHICH OLD BOB UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVES 135 + + X THE EVENTS OF THE ELEVENTH OF APRIL 157 + + XI THE ATTACK OF THE SQUARE TOWER 205 + + XII THE IMPOSSIBLE BODY 216 + + XIII IN WHICH THE FEARS OF ROULETABILLE + ASSUME ALARMING PROPORTIONS 228 + + XIV THE SACK OF POTATOES 248 + + XV THE SIGHS OF THE NIGHT 266 + + XVI THE DISCOVERY OF AUSTRALIA 274 + + XVII OLD BOB’S TERRIBLE ADVENTURE 288 + + XVIII HOW DEATH STALKED ABROAD AT NOONDAY 297 + + XIX IN WHICH ROULETABILLE ORDERS THE + IRON DOORS TO BE CLOSED 311 + + XX IN WHICH ROULETABILLE GIVES A CORPOREAL + DEMONSTRATION OF THE POSSIBILITY + OF THE “BODY TOO MANY” 320 + + EPILOGUE 357 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + _Facing Page_ + + Rouletabille had hidden himself in the shadow of a + pillar 14 + + He stood erect, wrapped in the rags of a long + coat which hung about his legs, bareheaded + and barefooted 52 + + The Plan of the Fort of Hercules 87 + + The Fort of Hercules 90 + + It made us nervous and restless to look at each + other, seated around the table, mute, leaning + forward, wearing our black spectacles, behind + which it was as impossible to read our + eyes as our thoughts 167 + + The Plan of the inhabited floor of the Square + Tower 183 + + He fled from us and rushed further into the + night, shrieking aloud, “The perfume of the + Lady in Black! The perfume of the Lady + in Black!” 203 + + His eyes seemed glued to his drawing. They + never moved from the paper 234 + + Rouletabille examined the barrel of Darzac’s revolver + and then compared the weapon with + the other which he held 242 + + It was Bernier! It was Bernier who lay there, + the death rattle in his throat and a stream + of blood flowing from his breast 302 + + Ah! That profile standing out darkly from the + depths of the embrasure, lighted up by the + red glow of the setting sun 332 + + Rouletabille advanced toward him: “Larsan,” he + said, “Larsan, do you give yourself up?” + But Larsan did not reply 352 + + + + + The Perfume of the Lady in Black + + + + + CHAPTER I + + WHICH BEGINS WHERE MOST ROMANCES END + + +The marriage of M. Robert Darzac and Mlle. Mathilde Stangerson took +place in Paris, at the Church of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet, on April +6th, 1895, everything connected with the occasion being conducted in +the quietest fashion possible. A little more than two years had rolled +by since the events which I have recorded in a previous volume--events +so sensational that it is not speaking too strongly to say that an even +longer lapse of time would not have sufficed to blot out the memory of +the famous “Mystery of the Yellow Room.” + +There was no doubt in the minds of those concerned that, if the +arrangements for the wedding had not been made almost secretly, the +little church would have been thronged and surrounded by a curious +crowd, eager to gaze upon the principal personages of the drama which +had aroused an interest almost world wide and the circumstances of +which were still present in the minds of the sensation-loving public. +But in this isolated little corner of the city, in this almost unknown +parish, it was easy enough to maintain the utmost privacy. Only a few +friends of M. Darzac and Professor Stangerson, on whose discretion +they felt assured that they might rely, had been invited. I had the +honor to be one of the number. + +I reached the church early, and, naturally, my first thought was +to look for Joseph Rouletabille. I was somewhat surprised at not +seeing him, but, having no doubt that he would arrive shortly, I +entered the pew already occupied by M. Henri-Robert and M. Andre +Hesse, who, in the quiet shades of the little chapel, exchanged in +undertones reminiscences of the strange affair at Versailles, which +the approaching ceremony brought to their memories. I listened without +paying much attention to what they were saying, glancing from time to +time carelessly around me. + +A dreary place enough is the Church of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet. With +its cracked walls, the lizards running from every corner and dirt--not +the beautiful dust of ages, but the common, ill-smelling, germ-laden +dust of to-day--everywhere, this church, so dark and forbidding on +the outside, is equally dismal within. The sky, which seems rather +to be withdrawn from than above the edifice, sheds a miserly light +which seems to find the greatest difficulty in penetrating through the +dusty panes of unstained glass. Have you read Renan’s “Memories of +Childhood and Youth?” Push open the door of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet +and you will understand how the author of the “Life of Jesus” longed to +die, when as a lad he was a pupil in the little seminary of the Abbe +Duplanloup, close by, and could only leave the school to come to pray +in this church. And it was in this funereal darkness, in a scene which +seemed to have been painted only for mourning and for all the rites +consecrated to sorrow, that the marriage of Robert Darzac and Mathilde +Stangerson was to be solemnized. I could not cast aside the feeling of +foreboding that came over me in these dreary surroundings. + +Beside me, M. Henri-Robert and M. Andre Hesse continued to chat, and my +wandering attention was arrested by a remark made by the former: + +“I never felt quite easy about Robert and Mathilde,” he said--“not +even after the happy termination of the affair at Versailles--until +I knew that the information of the death of Frederic Larsan had been +officially confirmed. That man was a pitiless enemy.” + +It will be remembered, perhaps, by readers of “The Mystery of the +Yellow Room,” that a few months after the acquittal of the Professor +in Sorbonne, there occurred the terrible catastrophe of La Dordogne, +a transatlantic steamer, running between Havre and New York. In the +broiling heat of a summer night, upon the coast of the New World, +La Dordogne had caught fire from an overheated boiler. Before help +could reach her, the steamer was utterly destroyed. Scarcely thirty +passengers were able to leap into the life boats, and these were +picked up the next day by a merchant vessel, which conveyed them to +the nearest port. For days thereafter, the ocean cast up on the beach +hundreds of corpses. And among these, they found Larsan. + +The papers which were found carefully hidden in the clothing worn by +the dead man, proved beyond a doubt his identity. Mathilde Stangerson +was at last delivered from this monster of a husband to whom, through +the facility of the American laws, she had given her hand in secret, +in the unthinking ardour of girlish romance. This wretch, whose real +name, according to court records, was Ballmeyer, and who had married +her under the name of Jean Roussel, could no longer rise like a dark +shadow between Mathilde and the man whom she had loved so long and +so well, without daring to become his bride. In “The Mystery of the +Yellow Room,” I have related all the details of this remarkable affair, +one of the strangest which has ever been known in the annals of the +Court of Assizes, and which, without doubt, would have had a most +tragic denouement, had it not been for the extraordinary part played +by a boy reporter, scarcely eighteen years old, Joseph Rouletabille, +who was the only one to discover that Frederic Larsan, the celebrated +Secret Service agent, was none other than Ballmeyer himself. The +accidental--one might almost say “providential”--death of this villain, +had seemed to assure a happy termination to the extraordinary story, +and it must be confessed that it was undoubtedly one of the chief +factors in the rapid recovery of Mathilde Stangerson, whose reason had +been almost overturned by the mysterious horrors at the Glandier. + +“You see, my dear fellow,” said M. Henri-Robert to M. Andre Hesse, +whose eyes were roving restlessly about the church, “you see, in +this world, one can always find the bright side. See how beautifully +everything has turned out--even the troubles of Mlle. Stangerson. But +why are you constantly looking around you? What are you looking for? Do +you expect anyone?” + +“Yes,” replied M. Hesse. “I expect Frederic Larsan.” + +M. Henri-Robert laughed--a decorous little laugh, in deference to +the sanctity of the surroundings. But I felt no inclination to join +in his mirth. I was an hundred leagues from foreseeing the terrible +experience which was even then approaching us; but when I recall that +moment and seek to blot out of my mind all that has happened since--all +those events which I intend to relate in the course of this narrative, +letting the circumstances come before the reader as they came before +us during their development--I recollect once more the curious unrest +which thrilled me at the mention of Larsan’s name. + +“What’s the matter, Sainclair?” whispered M. Henri-Robert, who must +have noticed something odd in my expression. “You know that Hesse was +only joking.” + +“I don’t know anything about it,” I answered. And I looked attentively +around me, as M. Andre Hesse had done. And, indeed, we had believed +Larsan dead so often when he was known as Ballmeyer, that it seemed +quite possible that he might be once more brought to life in the guise +of Larsan. + +“Here comes Rouletabille,” remarked M. Henri-Robert. “I’ll wager that +he isn’t worrying about anything.” + +“But how pale he is!” exclaimed M. Andre Hesse in an undertone. + +The young reporter joined us and pressed our hands in an absent-minded +manner. + +“Good morning, Sainclair. Good morning, gentlemen. I am not late, I +hope?” + +It seemed to me that his voice trembled. He left our pew immediately +and withdrew to a dark corner, where I beheld him kneel down like a +child. He hid his face, which was indeed very pale, in his hands, and +prayed. I had never guessed that Rouletabille was of a religious turn +of mind, and his fervent devotion astonished me. When he raised his +head, his eyes were filled with tears. He did not even try to hide +them. He paid no attention to anything or anyone around him. He was +lost completely in his prayers, and, one might imagine, in his grief. + +But what could be the occasion of his sorrow? Was he not happy at the +prospect of the union so ardently desired by everyone? Had not the +good fortune of Mathilde Stangerson and Robert Darzac been in a great +measure brought about by his efforts? After all, it was perhaps from +joy, that the lad wept. He rose from his knees, and was hidden behind +a pillar. I made no endeavor to join him, for I could see that he was +anxious to be alone. + +And the next moment, Mathilde Stangerson made her entrance into the +church upon the arm of her father, Robert Darzac walking behind them. +Ah, the drama of the Glandier had been a sorrowful one for these three! +But, strange as it may seem, Mathilde Stangerson appeared only the more +beautiful, for all that she had passed through. True, she was no longer +the beautiful statue, the living marble, the ancient goddess, the cold +Pagan divinity, who, at the official functions at which her father’s +position had forced her to appear, had excited a flutter of admiration +whenever she was seen. It seemed, on the contrary, that fate, in making +her expiate for so many long years an imprudence committed in early +youth, had cast her into the depths of madness and despair, only to +tear away the mask of stone, which hid from sight the tender, delicate +spirit. And it was this spirit which shone forth on her wedding day, +in the sweetest and most charming smile, playing on her curved lips, +hiding in her eyes, filled with pensive happiness, and leaving its +impress on her forehead, polished like ivory, where one might read +the love of all that was beautiful and all that was good. + +[Illustration: Rouletabille had hidden himself in the shadow of a +pillar.] + +As to her gown, I must acknowledge that I remember nothing at all +about it, and am unable even to say of what color it was. But what +I do remember, is the strange expression which came over her visage +when she looked through the rows of faces in the pews without seeming +to discover the one she sought. In a moment she had regained her +composure, and was mistress of herself once more. She had seen +Rouletabille behind his pillar. She smiled at him and my companions and +I smiled in our turn. + +“She has the eyes of a mad woman!” + +I turned around quickly to see who had uttered the heartless words. It +was a poor fellow whom Robert Darzac, out of the kindness of his heart, +had made his assistant in the laboratory at the Sorbonne. The man was +named Brignolles, and was a distant cousin of the bridegroom. We knew +of no other relative of M. Darzac whose family came originally from +the Midi. Long ago he had lost both father and mother; he had neither +brother nor sister, and seemed to have broken off all intercourse with +his native province, from which he had brought an eager desire for +success, an exceptional ability to work, a strong intellect, and a +natural need for affection, which had satisfied itself in his relations +with Professor Stangerson and his daughter. He had also as a legacy +from Provence, his native place, a soft voice and slight accent, which +had often brought a smile to the lips of his pupils at the Sorbonne, +who, nevertheless, loved it as they might have loved a strain of music, +which made the necessary dryness of their studies a little less arid. + +One beautiful morning, in the preceding spring, and consequently a year +after the occurrences in the yellow room, Robert Darzac had presented +Brignolles to his pupils. The new assistant had come direct from Aix, +where he had been a tutor in the natural sciences, and where he had +committed some fault of discipline which had caused his dismissal. But +he had remembered that he was related to M. Darzac, the famous chemist, +had taken the train to Paris, and had told such a piteous tale to the +fiancé of Mlle. Stangerson, that Darzac, out of pity, had found means +to associate his cousin with him in his work. At that time, the health +of Robert Darzac had been far from flourishing. He was suffering from +the reaction following the strong emotions which had nearly weighed him +down at the Glandier and at the Court of Assizes; but one might have +thought that the recovery, now assured, of Mathilde, and the prospect +of their marriage would have had a happy influence both upon the mental +and physical condition of the professor. We, however, remarked on the +contrary, that from the day that Brignolles came to him--Brignolles, +whose friendship should have been a precious solace, the weakness of +M. Darzac seemed to increase. However, we were obliged to acknowledge +that Brignolles was not to blame for that, for two unfortunate and +unforeseen accidents had occurred in the course of some experiments, +which would have seemed, on the face of them, not at all dangerous. +The first resulted from the unexpected explosion of a Gessler tube, +which might have severely injured M. Darzac, but which only injured +Brignolles, whose hands were badly scarred. The second, which might +have been extremely grave, happened through the explosion of a tiny +lamp against which M. Darzac was leaning. Happily, he was not hurt, +but his eyebrows were scorched, and for some time after his sight was +slightly impaired, and he was unable to stand much sunlight. + +Since the Glandier mysteries, I had been in such a state of mind that I +often found myself attaching importance to the most simple happenings. +At the time of the second accident I was present, having come to seek +M. Darzac at the Sorbonne. I myself led our friend to a druggist and +then to a doctor, and I (rather dryly, I own) begged Brignolles, when +he wished to accompany us, to remain at his post. On the way, M. Darzac +asked why I had wounded the poor fellow’s feelings. I told him that I +did not care for Brignolles’ society, for the abstract reason that I +did not like his manners, and for the concrete reason, on this special +occasion, that I believed him to be responsible for the accident. M. +Darzac demanded why I thought so, and I did not know how to answer, and +he began to laugh--a laugh that was quickly silenced, however, when the +doctor told him that he might easily have been made entirely blind, and +that he might consider himself very lucky in having gotten off so well. + +My suspicions of Brignolles were, doubtless, ridiculous, and no more +accidents happened. All the same, I was so strongly prejudiced against +the young man that, at the bottom of my heart, I blamed him for the +slow improvement in M. Darzac’s physical condition. At the beginning of +the winter Darzac had such a bad cough that I entreated him to ask for +leave of absence and to take a trip to the Midi--a prayer in which all +his friends joined. The physicians advised San Remo. He went thither, +and a week later he wrote us that he felt much better--that it seemed +to him as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his breast. “I can +breathe here,” he wrote. “When I left Paris, I seemed to be stifling.” + +This letter from M. Darzac gave me much food for thought, and I no +longer hesitated to take Rouletabille into my confidence. + +He agreed with me that it was a most peculiar coincidence that M. +Darzac was so ill when Brignolles was with him and so much better when +he and his young assistant were separated. The impression that this +was actually the fact was so strong in my mind that I would on no +account have permitted myself to lose sight of Brignolles. No, indeed. +I verily believe that if he had attempted to leave Paris, I should have +followed him. But he made no such attempt. On the contrary, he haunted +the footsteps of M. Stangerson. Under the pretext of asking news of M. +Darzac, he presented himself at the house of the Professor almost every +day. Once he made an effort to see Mlle. Stangerson, but I had painted +his portrait to M. Darzac’s fiancée in such unflattering terms, that I +had succeeded in disgusting her with him completely--a fact on which I +congratulated myself in my innermost soul. + +M. Darzac remained four months at San Remo, and returned home at the +end of that time almost completely restored to health. His eyes, +however, were still weak, and he was under the necessity of taking the +greatest care of them. Rouletabille and myself had resolved to keep a +close watch on Brignolles, but we were satisfied that everything would +be right when we were informed that the long-deferred marriage was to +occur almost immediately and that M. Darzac would take his wife away +on a long honeymoon trip far from Paris--and from Brignolles. + +Upon his return from San Remo, M. Darzac had asked me: + +“Well, how are you getting on with poor Brignolles? Have you decided +that you were wrong about him?” + +“Indeed, I have not,” was my response. + +And Darzac turned away, laughing at me, and uttering one of the +Provencal jests which he affected when circumstances allowed him to be +gay, and which found on his lips a new freshness since his visit to the +Midi had accustomed him again to the accents of his childhood. + +We knew that he was happy. But we had formed no real idea of how happy +he was--for between the time of his return and the wedding day we had +had few chances to see him--until we beheld him walking up the aisle of +the church, his face fairly transformed. His slight erect figure bore +itself as proudly as though he were an Emperor. Happiness had made him +another being. + +“Anyone could guess that he was a bridegroom!” tittered Brignolles. + +I left the neighborhood of the man who was so repulsive to me, and +stepped behind poor M. Stangerson, who stood through the entire +ceremony with his arms crossed on his breast, seeing nothing and +hearing nothing. I was obliged to touch him on the shoulder when all +was over to arouse him from his dream. + +As they passed into the sacristy, M. Andre Hesse heaved a deep sigh. + +“I can breathe again,” he murmured. + +“Why couldn’t you breathe before, my friend?” asked M. Henri-Robert. + +And M. Andre Hesse confessed that he had feared up to the last moment +that the dead man would reappear. + +“I can’t help it,” was the only response he would make when his friend +rallied him. “I cannot bring myself to the idea that Frederic Larsan +will stay dead for good.” + +And now we all--a dozen or so persons--were gathered in the sacristy. +The witnesses signed the register, and the rest of us congratulated the +newly wedded pair. The sacristy was yet more dismal than the church, +and I might have thought that it was on account of the darkness that +I could not perceive Joseph Rouletabille, if the room had not been so +small. But, assuredly, he was not there. Mathilde had already asked for +him twice, and M. Darzac requested me to go and look for him. I did so, +but returned to the vestry without him. He had disappeared from the +church. + +“How strange it is!” exclaimed M. Darzac. “I can’t understand it. Are +you sure that you looked everywhere? He may be in some corner dreaming.” + +“I looked everywhere, and I called his name,” I told him. + +But M. Darzac was still not satisfied. He wanted to look through the +church for himself. His search was better rewarded than mine, for he +learned from a beggar, who was sitting in the porch with a tambourine, +that Rouletabille had left the church a few minutes before and had been +driven away in a hack. When the bridegroom brought this news to his +wife, she appeared to be both pained and anxious. She called me to her +side and said: + +“My dear M. Sainclair, you know that we are to take the train in two +hours. Will you hunt up our little friend and bring him to me, and +tell him that his strange behaviour is grieving me very much?” + +“Count upon me,” I said. + +And I began a wild goose chase after Rouletabille. But I appeared at +the station without him. Neither at his home, nor at the office of +his paper, nor at the Cafe du Barreau, where the necessities of his +work often called him at this hour of the day, could I lay my hand on +him. None of his comrades could tell me where I might chance to find +him. I leave you to think how unwillingly I turned my steps in the +direction of the railroad station. M. Darzac was greatly disturbed, +but as he had to look after the comfort of his fellow travellers (for +Professor Stangerson, who was on his way to Mentone, was to accompany +his daughter and her husband to Dijon, changing cars there, while the +Darzacs continued their trip to Culoz and Mt. Cenis), he asked me to +break the bad news to his bride. I performed the commission, adding +that Rouletabille would, without doubt, present himself before the +train started. At these words, Mathilde began to cry softly, and shook +her head: + +“No--no!” she whispered. “It is all over. He will never come again.” + +And she stepped into the railway carriage. + +It was at this point that the insufferable Brignolles, seeing the +emotion of the newly-made bride, whispered again to M. Andre Hesse, +“Look! Look! Hasn’t she the eyes of a maniac? Ah, Robert has done +wrong. It would have been better for him to wait.” M. Hesse gave him a +disdainful glance, and bade him be silent. + +I can still see Brignolles as he spoke those words, and can recall +as vividly as though it were yesterday the feeling of horror with +which he inspired me. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that +he was an evil and a jealous man, and that he would never forgive his +relative for having placed him in a position which might be considered +subordinate. He had a yellow face and long features that looked as if +they had been drawn down from forehead to chin. Everything about him +seemed to diffuse bitterness and everything about him was long. He had +a long figure, long arms, long legs and a long head. However, to this +general rule of length, there were exceptions--the feet and the hands. +He had extremities small and almost beautiful. + +After having been so rudely silenced for his malicious words by the +young lawyer, Brignolles immediately took offense and left the station, +after having paid his respects to the bride and bridegroom. At least, I +believe that he left the station, for I did not see him again. + +There was three minutes yet before the departure of the train. We +still hoped that Rouletabille would appear, and we looked across the +quay, thinking once or twice that we saw the form of our young friend +approaching, among the hurrying throng of travellers. How could it be +that he would not advance, as we were so used to seeing him, in his +quick, boyish fashion, rushing through the crowd, paying no heed to +the cries and protestations that his method of pushing his way usually +evoked while he seemed to be hurrying faster than any one else? What +could he be doing that detained him? + +Already the doors were closed. The bell on the engine began to sound +its first slow strokes, and the calls of hack drivers began to arise: +“Carriage, Monsieur? Carriage?” And then the quick last word which +gave the signal for the departure. But no Rouletabille. We were all +so grieved, and, moreover, so surprised, that we remained on the +platform, looking at Mme. Darzac, without thinking to wish her a +pleasant journey. Professor Stangerson’s daughter cast a long glance +upon the quay, and, at the moment that the speed of the train began to +accelerate, certain now that she was not to see her “little friend” +again, she threw me an envelope from the car window. + +“For him,” she said. + +And almost as though moved by an irresistible impulse, her face wearing +an expression of something that resembled terror, she added in a tone +so strange that I could not help recalling the horrible speeches of +Brignolles: + +“Au revoir, my friends--or adieu.” + + + + + CHAPTER II + +IN WHICH THERE IS QUESTION OF THE CHANGING HUMORS OF JOSEPH ROULETABILLE + + +In returning alone from the station I could not help feeling some +surprise at the singular sensation of sadness which oppressed me, +and of the cause of which I had not the least idea. Since the affair +at Versailles, with the details of which my existence had become +so strangely intermingled, I had enjoyed the closest intimacy with +Professor Stangerson, his daughter, and Robert Darzac. I ought to have +been completely happy on the day of this wedding, which seemed in +every way so satisfactory. I wondered whether the unexplained absence +of the young reporter did not account in some measure for my strange +depression. Rouletabille had been treated by the Stangersons and by M. +Darzac as their deliverer. And especially since Mathilde had left the +sanitarium, in which, for several months, her shattered nervous system +had needed and received the most assiduous care--since the daughter +of the famous professor had been able to understand the extraordinary +part which the boy had played in the drama that, without his help, +would inevitably have ended in the bitterest grief for all those whom +she loved--since she had read by the light of her restored reason +the short-hand reports of the trial, at which Rouletabille appeared +at the last moment like some hero of a miracle--she had surrounded +the youngster with an affection little less than maternal. She +interested herself in everything which concerned him; she begged for +his confidence; she wanted to know more about him than I knew, and, +perhaps, more even than he knew himself. She had shown an unobtrusive +but strong curiosity in regard to the mystery of his birth, of which +all of us were ignorant, and on which the young man had kept silence +with a sort of savage pride. Although he fully realized the tender +friendship which the poor soul felt for him, Rouletabille maintained +his reserve and in his dealings with her affected a formal politeness +which astonished me, coming from the boy whom I had known so exuberant, +so whole-hearted, so strong in his likes and dislikes. More than once I +had mentioned the matter to him, and he had answered me in an evasive +manner, laying great stress, however, upon his sentiments of devotion +for “a lady whom he esteemed beyond anyone in the world, and for whom +he would have been ready to sacrifice his all, if fate or fortune had +given him anything to sacrifice for anyone.” He would take strange +whims at such times. For instance, after having made, in my presence, +a promise to take a holiday and remain all day with the Stangersons, +who had rented for the summer (for they did not wish to live at the +Glandier again) a pretty little place at Chennevieres, on the borders +of the Marne, and after having shown an almost childish joy at the +prospect, he suddenly and without any reason refused to accompany me. +And I was obliged to set out alone, leaving him in his little room, in +the corner of the Boulevard St. Michel and the Rue Monsieur-le-Prince. +I wished as I departed that he might experience as much pain as I knew +that he would cause Mlle. Stangerson. One Sunday, she, vexed at the +lad’s behavior, made up her mind to go with me to his den in the Latin +Quarter, and surprise him. + +When we reached his lodgings, Rouletabille, who had answered our knock +with an energetic “Come in,” sat working at a little table. He arose as +we entered, and turned so pale that we believed that he was about to +fall in a faint. + +“Good heavens!” cried Mlle. Stangerson, hastening toward him. But he +was quicker than she, and before she reached the table on which he +leaned, he had thrown a cover over the papers which were spread over +the surface, hiding them entirely. + +Mathilde had, of course, noticed the action. She paused in amazement. + +“We are disturbing you,” she said. + +“Oh, not at all,” replied Rouletabille. “I have finished my work. I +will show it to you sometime. It is a masterpiece--a piece in five +acts, for which I am not able to find the denouement.” + +And he smiled. Soon he was again entirely master of himself, and made +us a hundred droll speeches, thanking us for having come to cheer him +in his solitude. He insisted on inviting us to dinner, and we three ate +our evening meal in a Latin Quarter restaurant--Foyot’s. It was a happy +evening. Rouletabille telephoned for Robert Darzac, who joined us at +dessert. At this time M. Darzac was not ill, and the amazing Brignolles +had not yet made his appearance in Paris. We played like children. That +summer night was so beautiful in the solitude of the Luxembourg! + +Before bidding adieu to Mlle. Stangerson, Rouletabille begged her +pardon for the strange humor which he evinced at times, and accused +himself of being at bottom a very disagreeable person. Mathilde kissed +him and Robert Darzac put his arm affectionately around the lad’s +shoulders. And Rouletabille was so moved that he never uttered a word +while I walked with him to his door; but at the moment of our parting, +he pressed my hand more tenderly than he had ever done before. Poor +little fellow! Ah, if I had known! How I reproach myself in the light +of the present for having judged him with too little patience! + +Thus, sad at heart, assailed by premonitions which I tried in vain to +drive away, I returned from the railway station at Lyons, pondering +over the numerous fantasies, the strange caprices of Rouletabille +during the last two years. But nothing that entered my mind could have +warned me of what had happened, or still less have explained it to +me. Where was Rouletabille? I went to his rooms in the Boulevard St. +Michel, telling myself that if I did not find him there, I could, at +least, leave Mme. Darzac’s letter. What was my astonishment when I +entered the building to see my own servant carrying my bag. I asked him +to tell me what he was doing and why, and he replied that he did not +know--that I must ask M. Rouletabille. + +The boy had been, as it turned out, while I had been seeking him +everywhere (except, naturally, in my own house), in my apartments in +the Rue de Rivoli. He had ordered my servant to take him to my rooms, +and had made the man fill a valise with everything necessary for a trip +of three or four days. Then he had directed the man to bring the bag in +about an hour to the hotel in the “Boul’ Mich.” + +I made one bound up the stairs to my friend’s bed chamber, where I +found him packing in a tiny hand satchel an assortment of toilet +articles, a change of linen and a night shirt. Until this task was +ended, I could obtain no satisfaction from Rouletabille, for in regard +to the little affairs of everyday life, he was extremely particular, +and, despite the modesty of his means, succeeded in living very +well, having a horror of everything which could be called bohemian. +He finally deigned to announce to me that “we were going to take +our Easter vacation,” and that, since I had nothing to do, and the +_Epoch_ had granted him a three days’ holiday, we couldn’t do +better than to go and take a short rest at the seaside. I made no +reply, so angry was I at this high-handed method, and all the more +because I had not the least desire to contemplate the beauties of the +ocean upon one of the abominable days of early spring, which for two +or three weeks every year makes us regret the winter. But my silence +did not disturb Rouletabille in the least, and taking my valise in +one hand, his satchel in the other, he hustled me down the stairs and +pushed me into a hack which awaited us before the door of the hotel. +Half an hour later, we found ourselves in a first-class carriage of the +Northern Railway, which was carrying us toward Trepot by way of Amiens. +As we entered the station, he said: + +“Why don’t you give me the letter that you have for me?” + +I gazed at him in amazement. He had guessed that Mme. Darzac would be +greatly grieved at not seeing him before her departure, and would write +to him. He had been positively malicious. I answered: + +“Because you don’t deserve it.” + +And I gave him a good scolding, to which he interposed no defense. He +did not even try to excuse himself, and that made me angrier than +ever. Finally, I handed him the letter. He took it, looked at it and +inhaled its fragrance. As I sat looking at him curiously, he frowned, +trying, as I could see, to repress some strong feeling. But he could +no longer hide it from me when he turned toward the window, his +forehead against the glass, and became absorbed in a deep study of the +landscape. His face betrayed the fact that he was suffering profoundly. + +“Well?” I said. “Aren’t you going to read the letter?” + +“No,” he replied. “Not here. When we are yonder.” + +We arrived at Trepot in the blackest night that I remember, after six +hours of an interminable trip and in wretched weather. The wind from +the sea chilled us to the bone and swept over the deserted quay with +weird sounds of lamentation. We met only a watch-man, wrapped in his +cloak and hood, who paced the banks of the canal. Not a cab, of course. +A few gas jets, trembling in their glass globes, reflected their light +in the mud puddles formed by the falling rain. We heard in the distance +the clicking noise of the little wooden shoes of some Trepot woman who +was out late. That we did not fall into a huge watering trough was due +to the fact that we were warned by the hoofs of a stray horse, which +passed that way to drink. I walked behind Rouletabille, who made his +way with difficulty in this damp obscurity. However, he appeared to +know the place, for we finally arrived at the door of a queer little +inn, which remained open during the early spring for the fishermen. +Rouletabille demanded supper and a fire, for we were half starved and +half frozen. + +“Ah, now, my friend,” I said, when we were settled after a fashion. +“Will you condescend to explain to me what we have come to look for in +this place, aside from rheumatism and pneumonia?” + +But Rouletabille, at this moment, coughed and turned toward the fire to +warm his hands again. + +“Oh, yes,” he answered. “I am going to tell you. We have come to look +for the perfume of the Lady in Black.” + +This phrase gave me so much to think about that I scarcely slept at all +that night. Besides, the wind howled continuously, sending its wails +over the water, then swallowing itself up in the little streets of the +town as if it were entering corridors. I heard someone moving about +in the room next to mine, which was occupied by my friend; I arose +and tried his door. In spite of the cold and the wind, he had opened +the window, and I could see him distinctly waving kisses toward the +shadows. He was embracing the night. + +I closed the door again and went quietly back to bed. Early in the +morning I was awakened by a changed Rouletabille. His face was +distorted with grief as he handed me a telegram which had come to him +at the Bourg, having been forwarded from Paris, in accordance with the +orders that he had left. + +Here is the dispatch: + +“Come immediately without losing a minute. We have given up our trip +to the Orient, and will join M. Stangerson at Mentone, at the home of +the Rances at Rochers Rouges. Let this message remain a secret between +us. It is not necessary to frighten anyone. You may pretend that you +are on your vacation, or make any other excuse that you like, but come. +Telegraph me general delivery, Mentone. Quickly, quickly, I am waiting +for you. Yours in despair--Darzac.” + + + + + CHAPTER III + + THE PERFUME + + +“Well!” I cried, leaping out of bed. “It doesn’t surprise me!” + +“You never believed that _he_ was dead?” demanded Rouletabille, in +a tone filled with an emotion that I could not explain to myself, for +it seemed greater even than was warranted by the situation, admitting +that the terms of M. Darzac’s telegram were to be taken literally. + +“I never felt quite sure of it,” I answered. “It was too useful for him +to pass for dead to permit him to hesitate at the sacrifice of a few +papers, however important those were which were found upon the victim +of the Dordogne disaster. But what is the matter with you, my boy? You +look as though you were going to faint. Are you ill?” + +Rouletabille had let himself sink into a chair. It was in a voice which +trembled like that of an old man that he confided to me that, even +while the marriage ceremony of our friends was going on, he had become +possessed with a strong conviction that Larsan was not dead. But after +the ceremony was at an end, he had felt more secure. It seemed to him +that Larsan would never have permitted Mathilde Stangerson to speak the +vows that gave her to Robert Darzac if he were really alive. Larsan +would only have had to show his face to stop the marriage; and, however +dangerous to himself such an act might have been, he would not, the +young reporter believed, have hesitated to deliver himself up to the +danger, knowing as he did the strong religious convictions of Professor +Stangerson’s daughter, and knowing, too, that she would never have +consented to enter into an alliance with another man while her first +husband was alive, even had she been freed from the latter by human +laws. In vain had everyone who loved her attempted to persuade her that +her first marriage was void, according to French statute. She persisted +in declaring that the words pronounced by the priest had made her the +wife of the miserable wretch who had victimized her, and that she must +remain his wife so long as they both should live. + +Wiping the perspiration from his forehead, Rouletabille remarked: + +“Sainclair, can you ever forget Larsan’s eyes? Do you remember, ‘The +Presbytery has not lost its charm or the garden its brightness?’” + +I pressed the boy’s hand; it was burning hot. I tried to calm him, but +he paid no attention to anything I said. + +“And it was after the wedding--just a few hours after the wedding, that +he chose to appear!” he cried. “There isn’t anything else to think, is +there, Sainclair? You took M. Darzac’s wire just as I did? It could +mean nothing else except that that man has come back?” + +“I should think not--but M. Darzac may be mistaken.” + +“Oh, M. Darzac is not a child to be frightened at bogies. But we must +hope--we must hope, mustn’t we, Sainclair, that he is mistaken? Oh, it +isn’t possible that such a fearful thing can be true. Oh, Sainclair, +it would be too terrible!” + +I had never seen Rouletabille so deeply agitated, even at the time of +the most terrible events at the Glandier. He arose from his chair and +walked up and down the room, casting aside any object which came in +his way and repeating over and over: “No, no! It’s too terrible--too +terrible!” + +I told him that it was not sensible to put himself in such a state +merely upon the receipt of a telegram which might mean nothing at all, +or might be the result of some delusion. And there, too, I added, that +it was not at this time, when we needed all our strength and fortitude, +that we ought to give way to imaginary fears which were particularly +inexcusable in a lad of his practical temperament. + +“Inexcusable! I am glad you think so, Sainclair.” + +“But, my dear boy, you frighten me. What is there you know that you +have not told me?” + +“I am going to tell you. The situation is horrible. Why didn’t that +villain die?” + +“And, after all, how do you know that he is not dead?” + +“Look here, Sainclair--Don’t talk--Be quiet, please--You see, if he is +alive, I wish to God that I were dead!” + +“You are crazy. It is if he is alive that you have all the more reason +to live to defend that poor woman.” + +“Ah, that is true! That is true! Thanks, old fellow! You have said the +only thing that makes me want to live. To defend her! I will not think +of myself any longer--never again.” + +And Rouletabille smiled--a smile which almost frightened me. I threw +my arm around him and begged him to tell me why he was so terrified, +why he spoke of his own death and why he smiled so strangely. + +Rouletabille laid his hand on my shoulder, and I went on: + +“Tell your friend what it is, Rouletabille. Speak out. Relieve your +mind. Tell me the secret that is killing you. I would tell you +anything.” + +Rouletabille looked down and steadily into my eyes. Then he said: + +“You shall know all, Sainclair. You shall know as much as I do, and +when you do, you will be as unhappy as I am, for you are kind and you +are fond of me.” + +Then he straightened back his shoulders as though he had already cast +off a burden and pointed in the direction of the railway. + +“We shall leave here in an hour,” he said. “There is no direct train +from Eu to Paris in the winter: we shall not reach Paris until 7 +o’clock. But that will give us plenty of time to pack our trunks and +take the train that leaves the Lyons station at nine o’clock for +Marseilles and Mentone.” + +He did not ask my opinion on the course which he had laid out. He was +taking me to Mentone, just as he had brought me to Trepot. He was well +aware that in the present crisis I could refuse him nothing. Besides, +he was in such a state of mental strain that even if he had wished +it, I should scarcely have left him. And it was not hard for me to +accompany him, for we were just beginning our long vacations, and my +affairs were so arranged that I felt entirely at liberty. + +“Then we are going to Eu?” I inquired. + +“Yes: we will take the train from there. It will scarcely take half an +hour to drive over.” + +“We shall have spent only a little time in this part of the country,” I +remarked. + +“Enough, I hope--enough for me to find what I am looking for.” + +I thought of the perfume of the Lady in Black, but I kept silence. Had +he not said that he was going to tell me everything? He led me out to +the jetty. The wind was still blowing a gale, and we were almost taken +off our feet. Rouletabille stood for an instant as if lost in thought, +closing his eyes as if in a dream. + +“It was here,” he said, “that I last saw her.” + +He looked down at the stone bench beside which we were standing. + +“We were sitting there. She held me to her heart. I was a very little +fellow, even for nine years old. She told me to stay there--on this +bench--and then she went away, and I never saw her again. It was +night--a soft summer evening--the evening of the distribution of +prizes. She had not assisted at the distribution, but I knew that she +would come that night--that night full of stars and so clear that I +hoped every moment that I would be able to distinguish her face. But +she covered it with her veil and breathed a heavy sigh. And then she +went away. And I have never seen her since.” + +“And you, my friend?” + +“I?” + +“Yes, what happened to you? Did you sit on the bench for very long?” + +“I would have--but the coachman came to look for me and I went in.” + +“Where?” + +“Into the school.” + +“Is there a boarding school at Trepot?” + +“No, but there is one at Eu--I went to the school at Eu.” + +He motioned me to follow him. + +“We will go there,” he said. “I can’t talk here. There is too much of a +storm.” + + * * * * * + +In another half hour we were at Eu. At the foot of the Rue des +Marroniers our carriage rolled over the pavements of the big, cold, +empty place, as the coachman announced his arrival by cracking his +whip, filling the dead town with the noise of the snapping leather. + +Soon we heard the sound of a bell--that of the school, Rouletabille +told me--and then everything was quiet again. We alighted and the horse +and carriage stood motionless upon the street. The driver had gone into +a saloon. We entered the cool shades of a high Gothic church which +faced upon the square. Rouletabille cast a glance at the castle--a red +brick structure, crowned with an immense Louis XIII roof--a mournful +facade which seemed to weep over the glory of departed princes. The +young reporter gazed sorrowfully at the square battlements of the City +Hall, which extended toward us the hostile lance of its soiled and +weather-beaten flag; at the Cafe de Paris; at the silent houses; at the +shops and the library. Was it there that the boy had bought those first +new books for which the Lady in Black had paid? + +“Nothing has changed.” + +An old dog, colorless and shaggy, upon the library steps, stretched +himself lazily on his frozen paws. + +“Cham! Cham!” called Rouletabille. “Oh, I remember him well. It is +Cham--it is my old Cham.” + +And he called him again, “Cham! Cham!” + +The dog got upon his feet, turned toward us, listening to the voice +that called him. He took a few steps, wagged his tail, and stretched +himself out in the sun again. + +“He doesn’t remember me,” said Rouletabille sadly. + +He drew me into a little street which had a steep down grade, and was +paved with sharp pebbles. As we went down the hill he took my hand and +I could feel the fever in his. We stopped again in front of a tiny +temple of the Jesuit style, which raised in front of us its porch, +ornamented with semicircles of stone, the “reversed consoles” which +are the characteristic features of an architecture which contributed +nothing to the glory of the Seventeenth Century. After having pushed +open a little low door, Rouletabille bade me enter, and we found +ourselves inside a beautiful mortuary chapel, upon the stone floor +of which were kneeling, beside their empty tombs, magnificent marble +statues of Catherine of Cleves and Guise le Balafre. + +“The college chapel,” whispered Rouletabille. + +There was no person in the chapel. We crossed the room hastily. On the +left wall, Rouletabille tapped very gently a kind of drum, which gave +out a queer, muffled sound. + +“We are in luck!” he said. “Everything is going well. We are inside +the college and the concierge has not seen me. He would surely have +remembered me.” + +“What harm would that have done?” + +Just at that moment a man with bare head and a bunch of keys at his +side passed through the room and Rouletabille drew me into the shadow. + +“It is Pere Simon. Ah, how old he has grown! He is almost bald. Listen: +this is the hour when he goes to superintend the study hour of the +younger boys. Everyone is in the class room at this time. Oh, we are +very lucky! There is only Mere Simon in the lodge--that is, if she is +not dead. At any rate, she can’t see us from here. But wait--here is +Pere Simon back again!” + +Why was Rouletabille so anxious to hide himself? Decidedly, I knew very +little of the lad whom I believed that I knew so well. Every hour that +I had spent with him of late had brought me some new surprise. While +we were waiting for Pere Simon to leave us a clear field once more, +Rouletabille and I managed to slip out of the chapel without being +seen, and hid ourselves in the corner of a tiny garden, laid out in +the middle of a stone court, behind the shrubbery of which we could, +leaning over, contemplate at our leisure the grounds and buildings of +the school. Rouletabille hung on to my arm as though he were afraid of +falling. “Good Heavens!” he murmured, in a voice broken with emotion. +“How things are changed! They have torn down the old study where I +found the knife and the leather hangings where the money was hidden +have, doubtless, been destroyed. But the chapel walls are just the +same. Look, Sainclair: lean over the hedge. That door that opens in the +rear of the chapel is the door of the infant class room. But never, +never did I leave that class room so gladly, even in my happiest play +hours, as when Pere Simon came to fetch me to the parlor where the +Lady in Black was waiting for me. Ah--suppose that they have destroyed +the parlor!” + +And he cast a quick look toward the building behind him. + +“No--no: it is all right--beside the mortuary. There is the same door +at the right through which she came. We shall go there as soon as Pere +Simon is out of the way.” + +And he set his teeth. + +“I believe that I am going crazy!” he said with a short laugh. “But I +can’t help my feelings. They are stronger than I. To think that I am +going to see the parlor--where she waited for me! I had been living +only in the hope of seeing her, and after she had gone, although I had +promised to be good and sensible, I fell into such a despondent state +that after each of her visits, they feared for my health. They were +only able to save me from utter prostration by telling me that if I +fell ill they would not let me see her any more. So from one visit to +another, I had her memory and her perfume to comfort me. Never having +seen her dear face distinctly, and being so weak that I was ready to +swoon with joy every time she pressed me to her heart, I lived less +with her image than with the heavenly odor. Often on the days after +she had come and gone, I would escape from my comrades during the +recreation hours and steal to the parlor, and when I found it empty, I +would draw deep breaths of the air which she had breathed and remain +there like a little devotee, and leave with a heart filled with the +sense of her presence. The perfume which she always used and which was +indissolubly associated in my mind with her, was the most delicate, +the most subtle, and the sweetest odor I have ever known, and I never +breathed it again in all the years which followed until the day I spoke +of it to you, Sainclair. You remember--the day we first went to the +Glandier?” + +“You mean the day that you met Mathilde Stangerson?” + +“That is what I mean,” responded the lad in a trembling voice. + +(Ah, if I had known at that moment that Professor Stangerson’s +daughter, as the result of her first marriage in America, had had a +child, a son, who would have been, if he had lived, the same age as +Rouletabille, perhaps I would have at last comprehended his emotion and +grief, and the strange reluctance which he showed to pronounce the name +of Mathilde Stangerson there at the school, to which, in the past, had +come so often the Lady in Black!) + +There was a long silence, which I finally broke. + +“And you have never known why the Lady in Black did not return?” + +“Oh!” cried Rouletabille. “I am sure that she did return. It was I who +was not here.” + +“Who took you away?” + +“No one: I ran away.” + +“Why? To look for her?” + +“No--no! To flee from her--to flee from her, I tell you, Sainclair. But +she came back--I know that she came back.” + +“She may have been broken hearted at not finding you.” + +Rouletabille raised his arms toward the sky and shook his head. + +“I don’t know--how can I know? Ah, what an unhappy wretch I am! But, +hush, Sainclair! Here comes Pere Simon! Now, he’s gone again. Quick--to +the parlor!” + +We were there in three seconds. It was a commonplace room enough, +rather large, with cheap white curtains in front of the shadeless +windows. It was furnished with six leather chairs placed against the +wall, a mantel mirror, and a clock. The whole appearance of the place +was sombre. + +As we entered the room, Rouletabille uncovered his head with an +appearance of respect and reverence which one rarely assumes except in +a sacred place. His face became flushed, he advanced with short steps, +rolling his travelling cap in his hands as if he were embarrassed. +He turned to me and said in low tones--far lower than he used in the +chapel: + +“Oh, Sainclair, this is it--the parlor. Feel how my hands burn. My face +is flushed, is it not? I was always flushed when I came here, knowing +that I should find her. I used to run. I felt smothered--I do now. I +was not able to wait. Oh, my heart beats just as it used when I was +a little lad! I would come to the door--right here--and then I would +pause, bashful and shamefaced. But I would see her dark shadow in the +corner: she would take me in her arms and hold me there in silence, and +before we knew it, we were both weeping, as we clung together. How dear +those meetings were. She was my mother, Sainclair. Oh, she never told +me so: on the contrary, she used to say that my mother was dead, and +that she had been her friend. But she told me to call her Mamma--and +when she wept as I kissed her, I knew that she really was my mother. +See--she always sat there in the dark corner, and she came always at +nightfall, when the parlor had not yet been lit up for the evening. And +every time she came, she would place on the window sill a big, white +package, tied with pink cord. It was a fruit cake. I have loved fruit +cake ever since, Sainclair!” + +The poor lad could no longer contain himself. He rested his arms on +the mantel and wept like a little child. When he was able to control +himself a little, he raised his head and looked at me with a sad smile. +And then he sank into a chair as though he were tired out. I had not +had the heart to say one word to him during his reminiscences. I knew +well that he was not talking with me, but with his memories. + +I saw him draw from his breast the letter which he had placed there in +the train, and tear it open with trembling fingers. He read it slowly. +Suddenly his hand fell, and he uttered a groan. His flushed face grew +pallid--so pallid that it seemed as though every drop of blood had left +his heart. I stepped toward him, but he waved me away and closed his +eyes. He looked almost as though he were sleeping. I walked across the +room, moving as softly as one does in the chamber of death. I looked +up at the wall, where hung a heavy wooden crucifix. How long did I +stand gazing on the cross? I have no idea. Nor do I know what we said +to someone belonging to the house, who came into the parlor. I was +pondering with all my strength of concentration on the strange and +mysterious destiny of my friend--on this mysterious woman who might or +might not have been his mother. Rouletabille had been so young in those +school days. He longed so for a mother, that he might have imagined +that he had found one in his visitor. Rouletabille--what other name did +we know him by? Joseph Josephin. It was without doubt under that name +that he had pursued his early studies here. Joseph Josephin, the queer +appellation of which the editor of the _Epoch_ had said to him, +“It is no name at all!” And now, what was he about to do here? Seek the +trace of a perfume? Revive a memory--an illusion? I turned as I heard +him stir. He was standing erect and seemed quite calm. His features had +taken on the serenity which comes from assurance of victory. + +“We must go now, Sainclair. Come, my friend.” + +And he left the parlor without even looking back. I followed him. + +In the deserted street, which we regained without meeting anyone, I +stopped him by asking anxiously: + +“Well--did you find the perfume of the Lady in Black?” + +He must have seen that all my heart was in the question and that I +was filled with an ardent desire that this visit to the scenes of his +childhood might have brought a little peace to his soul. + +“Yes,” he said, very gravely. “Yes, Sainclair, I found it.” + +And he handed me the letter from Professor Stangerson’s daughter. + +I looked at him, doubting the evidence of my own senses--not +understanding, because I knew nothing. Then he took my two hands and +looked into my eyes. + +“I am going to confide a secret to you, Sainclair--the secret of my +life, and perhaps some day the secret of my death. Let what will come, +it must die with you and me. Mathilde Stangerson had a child--a son. He +is dead--is dead to everyone except to the two of us who stand here.” + +I recoiled, struck with horror under such a revelation. Rouletabille +the son of Mathilde Stangerson! And then suddenly I received a still +more violent shock. In that case, Rouletabille must be the son of +Larsan. + +Oh, I understood now, all the wretchedness of the boy. I understood why +he had said this morning: “Why did he not die? If he is living, I wish +to God that I were dead!” + +Rouletabille must have read my thoughts in my eyes, and he simply made +a gesture which seemed to say, “And now you understand, Sainclair.” +Then he finished his sentence aloud. The word which he spoke was +“Silence!” + +When we reached Paris we separated, to meet again at the train. There, +Rouletabille handed me a new dispatch, which had come from Valence, and +which was signed by Professor Stangerson. It said, “M. Darzac tells +me that you have a few days’ leave. We should all be very glad if you +could come and spend them with us. We will wait for you at Arthur +Rance’s place, Rochers Rouges--he will be delighted to present you +to his wife. My daughter will be pleased to see you. She joins me in +kindest greetings.” + +Just as the train was starting, a concierge from Rouletabille’s hotel +came rushing up and handed us a third dispatch. This one was sent from +Mentone, and signed by Mathilde. It contained two words: “Rescue us.” + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + EN ROUTE + + +Now I knew all. As we continued on our journey, Rouletabille related +to me the remarkable and adventurous story of his childhood, and I +knew, also, why he dreaded nothing so much as that Mme. Darzac should +penetrate the mystery which separated them. I dared say nothing +more--give my friend no advice. Ah, the poor unfortunate lad! When he +read the words “Rescue us,” he carried the dispatch to his lips, and +then, pressing my hand, he said: “If I arrive too late, I can avenge +her, at least.” I have never heard anything more filled with resolution +than the cold determination of his tone. From time to time a quick +movement betrayed the passion of his soul, but for the most part he was +calm--terribly calm. What resolution had he taken in the silence of the +parlor, when he sat motionless and with closed eyes in the shadow of +the corner where he had used to see the Lady in Black? + +While we journeyed toward Lyons, and Rouletabille lay dreaming, +stretched out fully dressed in his berth, I will tell you how and why +the child that he had been ran away from school at Eu, and what had +happened to him. + +Rouletabille had fled from the school like a thief. There was no +need to seek for another expression, because he had been accused of +stealing. This was how it happened. + +At the age of nine, he had already an extraordinarily precocious +intelligence, and could arrive easily at the solution of the most +perplexing problems. By logical deductions of an almost amazing kind, +he astonished his professor of mathematics by his philosophical method +of work. He had never been able to learn his multiplication tables, and +always counted upon his fingers. He would usually get the answers to +the problems himself, leaving the working out to be done by his fellow +pupils, as one will leave an irksome task to a servant. But first, he +would show them exactly how the example ought to be done. Although as +yet ignorant of the rudiments of algebra, he had invented for his own +personal use a system of algebra carried on with queer signs, looking +like hieroglyphics, by the aid of which he marked all the steps of +his mathematical reasoning, and thus he was able to write down the +general formulæ so that he alone could interpret them. His professor +used proudly to compare him to Pascal, discovering for himself without +knowledge of geometry, the first propositions of Euclid. He applied +his admirable faculties of reasoning to his daily life, as well as to +his studies, using the rules both materially and morally. For example, +an act had been committed in the school--I have forgotten whether it +was of cheating or talebearing--by one of ten persons whom he knew, +and he picked out the right one with a divination which seemed almost +supernatural, simply by using the powers of reasoning and deduction, +which he had practiced to such an extent. So much for the moral aspect +of his strange gift, and as for the material, nothing seemed more +simple to him than to find any lost or hidden object--or even a stolen +one. It was in the detection of thefts especially that he displayed +a wonderful resourcefulness, as if nature, in her wondrous fitting +together of the parts that make an equal whole, after having created +the father a thief of the worst kind, had caused the son to be born the +evil genius of thieves. + +This strange aptitude, after having won for the boy a sort of fame +in the school, on account of his detection of several attempts at +pilfering, was destined one day to be fatal to him. He found in this +abnormal fashion a small sum of money which had been stolen from the +superintendent, who refused to believe that the discovery was due only +to the lad’s intelligence and clearness of insight. This hypothesis, +indeed, appeared impossible to almost everyone who knew of the matter, +and, thanks to an unfortunate coincidence of time and place, the affair +finished up by having Rouletabille himself accused of being the thief. +They tried to make him acknowledge his fault; he defended himself with +such indignation and anger that it drew upon him a severe punishment. +The principal held an investigation and a trial, at which Joseph +Josephin was accused by some of his youthful comrades in that spirit +of falsehood which children sometimes possess. Some of them complained +of having had books, pencils, and tablets stolen at different times, +and declared that they believed that Joseph had taken them. The fact +that the boy seemed to have no relatives, and that no one knew where +he came from, made him particularly likely, in that little world, to +be suspected of crime. When the boys spoke of him, it was as “that +thief.” The contempt in which he was held preyed upon him, for he was +not a strong child at best, and he was plunged in despair. He almost +prayed to die. The principal, who was really the most kind hearted of +men, was persuaded that he had a vicious little creature to deal with, +because he was unable to produce an impression on the child, and make +him comprehend the horror of what he had done. Finally, he told the lad +that if he did not confess his guilt, it had been decided not to keep +him in the school any longer, and that a letter would be written to the +lady who interested herself in him--Mme. Darbel was the name which she +had given--to tell her to come after him. + +The child made no reply and allowed himself to be taken to his little +room, where he had been kept a prisoner. Upon the morrow he had +disappeared. He had run away. He had felt that the principal, to whose +care he had been entrusted during the earliest years of his childhood +(for in all his little life he could remember no other home than the +school), and who had always been so kind to him, was no longer his +friend, since he believed him guilty of theft. And he could see no +reason why the Lady in Black would not believe it, too--that he was a +thief. To appear as a thief in the sight of the Lady in Black! He would +far rather have died. + +And he made his escape from the place by climbing over the wall of the +garden at night. He rushed to the canal, sobbing, and, with a prayer, +uttered as much to the Lady in Black as to God Himself, threw himself +in the water. Happily, in his despair, the poor child had forgotten +that he knew how to swim. + +If I have reported this passage in the life of Rouletabille at some +length, it is because it seems to me that it is all important to the +thorough comprehension of his future. At that time, of course, he was +ignorant that he was the son of Larsan. Rouletabille, even as a child +of nine years, could not without agony harbor the idea that the Lady +in Black might believe him to be a thief, and thus, when the time came +that he imagined--an imagination too well founded, alas!--that he was +bound by ties of blood to Larsan, what infinite misery he experienced! +His mother, in hearing of the crime of which he had been accused, +must have felt that the criminal instincts of the father were coming +to light in the son, and, perhaps--thought more cruel than death +itself--she may have rejoiced in believing him dead. + +For everyone believed him dead. They found his footsteps leading to +the canal, and they fished out his cap. How had he lived after leaving +the school? In a most singular fashion. After swimming to dry land +and making up his mind to fly the country, the lad, while they were +searching for him everywhere in the canal and out of it, devised a most +original plan for travelling to a distance without being disturbed. He +had not read that most interesting tale, _The Stolen Letter_. His +own invention served him. He reasoned the thing out, as he always did. + +He knew--for he had often heard them told by the heroes +themselves--many stories of little rascals who had ran away from their +parents in search of adventures, hiding themselves by day in the fields +and the wood, and travelling by night--only to find themselves speedily +captured by the gendarmes, or forced to return home because they had no +money and no food, and dared not ask for anything to eat along the road +which they followed, and which was too well guarded to admit of their +escape if they applied for aid. Our little Rouletabille slept at night +like everyone else, and travelled in broad daylight, without hiding +himself. But, after having dried his garments (the warm weather was +coming on, and he did not suffer from cold), he tore them to tatters. +He made rags of them, which barely covered him, and begged in the open +streets, dirty and unkempt, holding out his hands and declaring to +passers-by that if he did not bring home any money his parents would +beat him. And everyone took him for some gypsy child, hordes of which +constantly roamed through the locality. Soon came the time of wild +strawberries. He gathered the fruit and sold it in little baskets of +leaves. And he assured me, in telling the story, that if it had not +been for the terrible thought that the Lady in Black must believe that +he was a thief, that time would have been the happiest of his life. His +astuteness and natural courage stood him well in stead through these +wanderings, which lasted for several months. Where was he going? To +Marseilles. This was his plan: + +He had seen in his illustrated geography views of the Midi, and he had +never looked at those pictures without breathing a sigh and wishing +that he might some day visit that enchanted country. Through his +gypsy-like manner of living, he had made the acquaintance of a little +caravan load of Romanies, who were following the same route as himself, +and who were journeying to Ste. Marie’s of the Sea to render homage to +a new king of their tribe. The lad had an opportunity to render them +some small service, and finding him a pleasant, well-mannered little +fellow, these people, not being in the habit of asking everyone whom +they met for his history, desired to know nothing more about him. They +believed that, on account of ill treatment, the child had run away from +some troop of wandering mountebanks, and they invited him to travel +with them. Thus he arrived in the Midi. + +In the neighborhood of Arles, he separated himself from his travelling +companions, and at last came to Marseilles. There was his paradise! +Eternal summer--and the port. + +The port was the favorite resort of all the gamins of the locality, +and this fact was the greatest safeguard for Rouletabille. He roamed +over the docks as he chose, and served himself according to the +measure of his needs, which were not great. For example, he made of +himself an “orange fisher.” It was at the time that he exercised this +lucrative calling that, one beautiful morning upon the quay, he made +the acquaintance of M. Gaston Leroux, a journalist from Paris, and this +acquaintance was destined to have such an influence upon the future of +Rouletabille that I do not consider it out of place to transcribe here +in full the article in which the editor of _Le Matin_ recorded +that first memorable interview. + + + THE LITTLE ORANGE FISHER. + + As the sun, piercing through the cloudless heavens, struck with its + ardent rays the golden robe of Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, I descended + toward the quay. The scene which met my eyes was one which was worth + going far to see. Townfolk, sailors and workmen were moving about, + the former idly looking on, while the others tugged at the pulleys + and drew up the cables of their vessels. The great merchant vessels + glided like huge beasts of burden between the tower of St. Jean and + the fort of St. Nicholas, caressing the sparkling waters of the Old + Port in their onward motion. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, the + smaller barks seemed to hold out their arms to each other, to throw + aside their veils of mist and to dance upon the water. Beside them, + tired with the long journey, worn out from ploughing for so many days + and nights over unknown seas, the heavy laden East Indiamen rested + peacefully, lifting their great, motionless sails in rags toward the + skies. + + My eyes, sweeping swiftly over the scene through the forest of masts + and sails paused at the tower which commemorated the fact that it was + twenty-five centuries since the children of Ancient Phœnicia first + cast anchor upon this happy shore, and that they had come by the water + ways of Ionia. Then my attention returned to the border of the quay, + and I perceived the little orange fisher. + + He was standing erect, clad in the rags of a man’s coat which hung + down almost to his feet, bareheaded and barefooted, with blonde curly + locks and black eyes, and I should think that he was about nine years + old. A string passed around his shoulder supported a big sailcloth + sack. His left hand rested on his waist and his right hand held a + stick three times as tall as himself, which was surmounted by a little + wooden hook. The child stood motionless and lost in thought. When I + asked him what he was doing there, he told me that he was an orange + fisher. + + He seemed very proud of being an orange fisher and did not ask me for + a penny, as the little vagabonds of the neighborhood are accustomed to + demand toll of every bystander. I spoke to him again, but this time + he made no answer, for he was too intent on watching the water. On + one side of us was the beautiful steamer Fides, in from Castellmare + and on the other a three masted schooner from Genoa. Further off were + two ships loaded with fruits which had just arrived from Baleares + that morning, and I saw that they were spilling a part of their + cargo. Oranges were bobbing up and down upon the water and the light + current sent them in our direction. My “fisher” leaped into a little + canoe, came quickly to the vessel, and, armed with his stick and hook, + waited. Then he began his gathering. The hook on his stick brought him + one orange, then a second, a third and a fourth. They disappeared in + the sack. The boy gathered a fifth, jumped upon the quay and tore open + the golden fruit. He plunged his little teeth in the pulp and devoured + it in an instant. + + “You have a good appetite.” I told him. + + “Monsieur,” he replied, flushing slightly as he spoke, “I don’t care + for any food but fruit.” + + “That is a very good diet,” I replied as gravely as he had spoken. + “But what do you do when there are no oranges?” + + “I pick up coal.” + + [Illustration: He stood erect, wrapped in the rags of a long coat + which hung about his legs, bareheaded and barefooted.] + + And his little hand, diving into the sack, brought out an enormous + piece of coal. + + The orange juice had rolled down his chin to his coat. The coat had a + pocket. The little fellow took a clean handkerchief from this pocket + and carefully wiped both chin and coat. Then he proudly put the + handkerchief back. + + “What is your father’s work?” I asked. + + “He is poor.” + + “Yes, but what does he do?” + + The orange fisher shrugged his shoulders. + + “He doesn’t do anything, he is poor.” + + My inquiries into his family affairs did not seem to please him. He + turned away from the quay and I followed him. We came in a moment to + the “shelter,” a little square of sea which holds the small pleasure + yachts--the neat little boats all polished wood and brass, the neat + little sailors in their irreproachable toilettes. My ragamuffin looked + at them with the eye of a connoisseur and seemed to find a keen + enjoyment in the spectacle. A new yacht had just been launched and her + immaculate sail looked like a white veil against the blue sky. + + “Isn’t it pretty?” exclaimed my little companion. + + The next moment he fell over a board covered with fresh tar and when + he picked himself up, he looked with dismay at the stain on his coat + which seemed to be his proudest possession. What a disaster! He looked + as if he could have burst into tears. But quick as thought he drew out + his handkerchief and rubbed and rubbed the spot, then he looked at me + piteously and said: + + “Monsieur, are there any other stains? Did I get anything on my back?” + + I assured him that he had not, and with an expression of satisfaction, + he put the handkerchief back in his pocket once more. + + A few steps further on, upon the walk which stretches in front of the + red and yellow, and blue houses, the windows of which are brave with + wares of many kinds, we found an oyster stand. Upon the little tables + were displayed piles of oysters in their shells, and flasks of vinegar. + + When we passed by the oyster stand, as the fish appeared fresh and + appetizing, I said to the orange fisher. + + “If you cared for anything to eat except fruit, I might ask you to + have some oysters with me.” + + His black eyes glistened and we sat down together to eat our oysters. + The merchant opened them for us while we waited. He started to bring + us vinegar, but my companion stopped him with an imperious gesture. + He opened his bag carefully and triumphantly produced a lemon. The + lemon, having been in close contact with the bit of coal, might have + passed for black itself. But my guest took out his handkerchief and + wiped it off. Then he cut the fruit and offered me half, but I like + oysters without other flavor, so I declined with thanks. + + After our luncheon we went back to the quay. The orange fisher asked + me for a cigarette and lighted it with a match which he had in another + pocket of his coat. + + Then, the cigarette between his lips, puffing rings toward the sky + like a man, the little creature threw himself down on the ground and + with his eyes fixed upon the statue of Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, took + the very pose of the boy who is the most beautiful ornament of the + Brussels tower. He did not lose a line of the attitude, and seemed + very proud of the fact and apparently desired to play the part exactly. + +Upon the following day Joseph Josephin met M. Gaston Leroux once more +upon the quay, and the man handed him a newspaper which he carried +in his hand. The boy read the article pointed out to him, and the +journalist gave him a bright new 100-sous piece. Rouletabille made no +difficulties about accepting it, and seemed to even find the gift a +natural one. “I take your money,” he said to Gaston Leroux, “because +we are collaborators.” With his hundred sous he bought himself a fine +new bootblack’s box and installed himself in business opposite the +Bregaillon. For two years he polished the boots of those who came to +eat the traditional bouillabaisse at this hostelry. When he was not at +work, he would sit on his box and read. With the feeling of ownership +which his box and his business had brought him, ambition had entered +his mind. He had received too good an education and had been too well +instructed in rudimentary things not to understand that if he did not +himself finish what others had begun for him, he would be deprived of +the best chance which he had of making for himself a place in the +world. + +His customers grew interested in the little bootblack, who always had +on his box some work of history or mathematics, and a harness maker +became so attached to him that he took him into his shop. + +Soon Rouletabille was promoted to the dignity of working in leather, +and was able to save. At the age of sixteen years, having a little +money in his pocket, he took the train for Paris. What did he intend to +do there? To look for the Lady in Black. + +Not one day had passed without his having thought of the mysterious +visitor to the parlor of the boarding school, and, although no one +had ever told him that she lived in Paris, he was persuaded that no +other city in the world was worthy to contain a lady who wore so sweet +a perfume. And then his little schoolmates, who had been able to see +her form when she glided out of the parlor, had often said: “See! the +Parisienne is here again to-day!” It would have been difficult to +exactly define the ideas in Rouletabille’s head, and perhaps he himself +scarcely knew what they were. His longing was merely to see the Lady +in Black--to watch her reverently--at a distance, as a devotee watches +the image of a saint. Would he dare to speak to her? The importance of +the accusation of theft which had been brought against him had only +grown greater in Rouletabille’s imagination as time had gone by, and +he believed that it would always be a barrier between himself and the +Lady in Black, which he had not the right to try to throw down. Perhaps +even--but, come what might, he longed to see her. That was the only +thing of which he was sure. + +As soon as he reached the capital, he looked up M. Gaston Leroux, and +recalled himself to the latter’s memory, telling him that, although +he felt no particular liking for the life, which he considered rather +a lazy one for a man who liked to be up and doing, he had decided to +become a journalist. And he fairly demanded that his old acquaintance +should at once give him a trial as a reporter. + +Leroux tried to turn the youth from his project. At last, tired of his +persistent requests, the editor said: + +“Well, my lad, since you have nothing special to do just now, go and +find the left foot of the body in the Rue Oberkampf.” + +And with these words, M. Leroux turned away, leaving poor Rouletabille +standing there with half a dozen young reporters tittering around him. +But the boy was not daunted in the least. He searched through the files +of the paper and found out that the _Epoch_ was offering a large +reward to the person who would bring to its office the foot which was +missing from the mutilated body of a woman, which had been found in the +Rue Oberkampf. + +The rest we know. In “The Mystery of the Yellow Room,” I have told +how Rouletabille succeeded on this occasion, and in what manner there +revealed itself to him his own singular calling--that of always +beginning to reason a matter out from the point where others had +finished. + +I have told, too, by what chance he was led one evening to the Elysee, +where he inhaled as he passed by the perfume of the Lady in Black. He +realized then that it was Mlle. Stangerson who had been his visitor at +the school, and for whom he had been seeking so long. What more need I +add? Why speak of the sensations which his knowledge as to the wearer +of the perfume aroused in the heart of Rouletabille during the events +at the Glandier, and, above all, after his trip to America? They may be +easily guessed. How simple a thing now to understand his hesitations +and his whims! The proofs brought by him from Cincinnati in regard +to the child of the woman who had been Jean Roussel’s wife had been +sufficiently explicit to awaken in his mind a suspicion that he himself +might be that child, but not enough so to render him certain of the +fact. However, his instinct drew him so strongly to the professor’s +daughter that he could scarcely resist his longing to throw himself +into her arms and press her to his heart and cry out to her: “You are +my mother! you are my mother!” + +And he fled from her presence just as he had fled from the vestry on +the day of her wedding, in order that there should not escape from +him any sign of the secret tenderness that had burned in his breast +through so many long years. For horrible thoughts dwelt in his mind. +Suppose he were to make himself known to her, and she were to repulse +him--cast him off--turn from him in horror--from him, the little thief +of the boarding school--the son of Roussel--Ballmeyer--the heir of +the crimes of Larsan! Suppose she were to order him to get out of her +sight, never to come near her again, nor to breathe the same air which +brought back to him, whenever he came near her, the perfume of the Lady +in Black! Ah, how he had fought, on account of these frightful visions, +to restrain himself from yielding to the almost overwhelming impulse +to ask each time that he came near her, “Is it you? Are you the Lady +in Black?” As to her, she had seemed fond of him from the first, but, +doubtless, that was because of the Glandier affair. If she were really +the Lady in Black, she must believe that the child whom he had been was +dead. And if it were not she--if by some fatality which set at naught +both his instincts and his powers of reasoning, it were not she! Could +he, through any imprudence, risk having her discover that he had fled +from the school at Eu under ban as a thief? No, no--not that! She had +often said to him: + +“Where were you brought up, my boy? What school did you attend when you +were a child?” And he had replied: “I was in school at Bordeaux.” + +He might as well have answered, “At Pekin.” + +However, this torture could not last always, he told himself. If it +were she, he would know how to say things to her that must open her +heart. Anything would be better than to be sure that she was not the +Lady in Black, but some stranger who had never held him to her heart. +But he must be certain--certain beyond any doubt, and he knew how to +place himself in the presence of his memories of the Lady in Black, +just as a dog is sure of finding its master. The simile which presented +itself quite naturally to his imagination was simply that of “following +the scent.” And this led us, under the circumstances which I have +narrated, to Trepot and to Eu. However, it is by no means certain that +decisive results would have been gained from this expedition--at least +in the eyes of a third person, like myself--had it not been for the +influence of the odor--if the letter from Mathilde, which I had handed +to Rouletabille in the train, had not suddenly, with its faint, sweet +perfume, brought to us directly the evidence which we were seeking. I +have never read this letter. It is a document so sacred in the eyes +of my friend, that other eyes will never behold it, but I know that +the gentle reproaches which it contained for the boy’s rudeness and +lack of confidence in the writer, had been so tender that Rouletabille +could no longer deceive himself, even if the daughter of Professor +Stangerson had not concluded the note with a final sentence, through +which throbbed the heart of a despairing mother, and which said that +“the interest which she felt in him arose less from the services he had +rendered her, than because of the memories which she had of a little +boy, the son of a friend, whom she had loved very dearly, and who had +killed himself ‘like a little man with a broken heart’ at the age of +nine years, and whom Rouletabille greatly resembled.” + + + + + CHAPTER V + + PANIC + + +Dijon--Macon--Lyons--certainly the boy could not be sleeping all +this time. I called him softly and he did not reply, but I would +have wagered my hand that he was not sleeping. What was he planning? +How quiet he was! What could it be that had given him such a strange +calmness? I seemed to see him again as he had been in the parlor, +suddenly standing erect as he said: “Let us go on!” in that voice so +composed and tranquil and resolute. Go on to whom? Toward what was he +resolved to go? Toward Her, evidently, who was in danger, and who could +be rescued only by him--toward her who was his mother and who did not +know it. + +“It is a secret which must remain between you and me! That child is +dead to the whole world, except to us two!” + +That was his decision, taken almost in a single moment, never to reveal +himself to her. And the poor child had come to seek the certainty that +she was indeed the Lady in Black, only to have the right to speak to +her! In the very moment that the assurance which he sought was his, he +had determined to forget it; he condemned himself to endless silence. +Poor little hero soul, which had understood that the Lady in Black, +who had such dire need of his help, would have shrunk from a safety +bought by the warfare of a son against his father! Where might not such +warfare lead? To what bloody conflict? Everything must be expected, no +matter how terrible, and Rouletabille must have his hands free to fight +to the death for the Lady in Black. + +The boy was so quiet that I could not even hear him breathing. I leaned +over him; his eyes were open. + +“Do you know what I have been thinking of?” he said. “Of the dispatch +that came to us from Bourg and was signed ‘Darzac,’ and the other +dispatch which came from Valence and was signed ‘Stangerson.’” + +“And the more I think of them, the stranger they seem to me. At Bourg, +M. and Mme. Darzac were not with M. Stangerson, who left them at Dijon. +Besides, the dispatch says: ‘We are going to rejoin M. Stangerson.’ But +the Stangerson dispatch proves that M. Stangerson, who had continued on +his journey toward Marseilles, is again with the Darzacs. The Darzacs +might have rejoined M. Stangerson on the way to Marseilles; but if that +were so, the Professor must have stopped on the road. Why was this? +He did not expect to do so. At the train, he said: ‘To-morrow at ten +o’clock, I shall be at Mentone.’ Look at the hour that the dispatch was +sent from Valence, and then we’ll look in the time table and find out +the hour at which M. Stangerson would have passed through Valence if he +had not stopped upon the journey.” + +We consulted the time table. M. Stangerson should have passed through +Valence at 12:44 o’clock in the morning, and the dispatch was sent at +12:47 o’clock. It had, therefore, been sent by M. Stangerson while he +was continuing on the trip which he had planned. At that moment he +must have been with M. and Mme. Darzac. Still poring over the time +table, we endeavored to solve the mystery of this re-encounter. M. +Stangerson had left the Darzacs at Dijon, where the whole party had +arrived at twenty-seven minutes after six o’clock in the evening. The +Professor had then taken the train which leaves Dijon at eight minutes +past seven, and had arrived at Lyons at four minutes after ten and at +Valence at forty-seven minutes after midnight. During the same time +the Darzacs, leaving Dijon at seven o’clock, continued on their way +to Modane, and, by way of Saint-Amour, reached Bourg at three minutes +past nine in the evening, on the train which was scheduled to leave +at eight minutes past nine. M. Darzac’s dispatch was sent from Bourg, +and had left the telegraph office at the station at 9:28. The Darzacs, +therefore, must have left their train at Bourg, and remained there. Or, +it might have happened that the train was late. In any case, we must +seek the reason for M. Darzac’s telegram somewhere between Dijon and +Bourg, after the departure of M. Stangerson. One might even go further, +and say ‘between Louhans and Bourg,’ for the train stops at Louhans, +and if anything had happened before he reached there, at eight o’clock, +it is altogether likely that M. Darzac would have sent his message from +that station. + +Finally, seeking the correspondence between Bourg and Lyons, we +reasoned that M. Darzac must have sent his wire from Bourg one minute +before leaving for Lyons by the 9:29 train. But this train reached +Lyons at 10:23 o’clock, while M. Stangerson’s train reached Lyons at +10:24. After changing their plans and leaving the train at Bourg, M. +and Mme. Darzac must have rejoined M. Stangerson at Lyons, which they +reached one minute before him. Now, what had upset their plans? We +could only think of the most terrible hypotheses, every one of which, +alas! had as its basis the reappearance of Larsan. The fact which gave +the greatest color to this idea was the desire expressed by each of +our friends, _not to frighten anyone_. M. Darzac in his message, +Mme. Darzac in hers, had not endeavored to conceal the gravity of the +situation. As to M. Stangerson, we asked ourselves whether he had been +made aware of the new developments, whatever they might be. + +Having thus approximately settled the question of time and distance, +Rouletabille invited me to profit by the luxurious accommodations which +the International Sleeping Car company places at the disposal of those +who wish to sleep while on a journey, and he himself set me the example +by making as careful a night toilet as he would have done in his own +room at his hotel. A quarter of an hour later he was snoring, but I +believed the snores to be feigned. At any rate, I could not sleep. + +At Avignon Rouletabille jumped up from his cot, hastily donned his +trousers and coat, and rushed out to the refreshment rooms to get a +cup of chocolate. I was not hungry. From Avignon to Marseilles, in our +anxiety and suspense, neither of us desired to talk, and the journey +was continued almost in silence, but at the sight of the city in which +he had led such a chequered existence, Rouletabille, doubtless to keep +from showing the emotion which he felt, and to lighten the heaviness of +both our hearts as we drew near our journey’s end, began to tell funny +stories, in the narration of which, however, he did not seem to find +the least amusement. I scarcely heard what he was saying. And at last +we reached Toulon. + +What a trip! And it might have been so beautiful! Ordinarily, it is +always with an almost boyish enthusiasm that I come within sight of +this marvellous country, with its azure shores, like a bit of dreamland +or a corner of paradise after the horrible departure from Paris in the +snow and rain and darkness and dampness and dirt. With what joy that +night, had things been otherwise, would I have set my foot upon the +quay, sure of finding the glorious friend who would be waiting for +me in the morning at the end of those two iron rails--the wonderful +southern sun! + +When we left Toulon, our impatience became extreme. And at Cannes, we +were scarcely surprised at all to see M. Darzac upon the platform of +the station, anxiously looking for us. He could scarcely have received +the dispatch which Rouletabille had sent him from Dijon, announcing the +hour at which we would reach Mentone. Having arrived there with Mme. +Darzac and M. Stangerson the day before, at ten o’clock in the morning, +he must have left Mentone almost at once, and have come to meet us at +Cannes, for we could understand from his dispatch that he had something +to say to us in confidence. His face looked worn and sad. Somehow, it +frightened us only to look at him. + +“Trouble?” questioned Rouletabille, briefly. + +“No, not yet,” was the reply. + +“God be praised!” exclaimed Rouletabille, having a deep sigh. “We have +come in time!” + +M. Darzac said simply: + +“I thank you for coming.” + +And he pressed both our hands in silence, following us into our +compartment, in which we locked ourselves, taking care to draw the +curtains and so isolate ourselves completely. When we were comfortably +settled, and the train had begun to move on, our friend spoke again. +His voice trembled so that he could scarcely utter the words. + +“Well,” he said; “he is not dead.” + +“We suspected it!” interrupted Rouletabille. “But are you sure?” + +“I have seen him as surely as I have seen you.” + +“And has Mme. Darzac seen him?” + +“Alas, yes! But it is necessary that we should use every means to make +her believe that it was an illusion. I could not bear it if she were +to lose her mind again, poor, innocent, wretched girl! Ah, my friends, +what a fatality pursues us! What has this man come back to do to us? +What does he want now?” + +I looked at Rouletabille. His face was even more full of grief than +that of M. Darzac. The blow which he feared had fallen. He leaned back +against the cushions as though he were going to faint. There was a +brief pause, and then M. Darzac spoke again: + +“Listen! This man must disappear--he must be gotten rid of! We must +go to him and ask what it is that he wants. If it is money, he may +take all that I have. If he will not go, I shall kill him. It is very +simple--after all, I think that would be the simplest way. Don’t you +think so, too?” + +We could not answer. It was too pitiful. Rouletabille, overcoming his +own feelings by a visible effort, engaged M. Darzac in conversation, +endeavoring to calm him, and asking him to tell us what had happened +since his departure from Paris. + +And he told us that the event which had changed the face of his +existence had taken place at Bourg, just as we had thought. Two +compartments of the sleeping car had been reserved by M. Darzac, and +these compartments were joined by a little dressing room. In one had +been placed the travelling bag with the toilet articles of Mme. Darzac, +and in the other the smaller packages. It was in the latter compartment +that the Darzacs and Professor Stangerson had travelled from Paris to +Dijon, where the three had left the train, and had dined at the buffet. +They had arrived at 6:27 o’clock, exactly on time, and M. Stangerson +had left Dijon at eight minutes after seven, and the Darzacs at just +seven o’clock. + +The Professor had bidden adieu to his daughter and his son-in-law +upon the platform of the station after dinner. M. and Mme. Darzac had +returned to their compartment--the one in which the small parcels had +been deposited--and remained at the window, chatting with the Professor +until the train started. As it steamed out of the station, the newly +wedded pair looked back and waved their hands to M. Stangerson, who +was still standing upon the platform, throwing kisses at them from the +distance. + +From Dijon to Bourg neither M. nor Mme. Darzac had occasion to enter +the adjacent compartment, where Mme. Darzac’s night bag had been +placed. The door of this compartment, opening upon the vestibule, had +been closed at Paris, as soon as the baggage had been brought there. +But the door had not been locked, either upon the outside with a key +by the porter, nor on the inside with the bolt by the Darzacs. The +curtain of the glass door had been drawn over the pane from the inside +by M. Darzac in such a way that no one could look into the compartment +from the corridor. But the curtain between the two compartments had +not been drawn. All of these circumstances were brought out by the +questions asked by Rouletabille of M. Darzac, and, although I could not +understand his reasons for going into such minute detail, I give the +facts in order to make the condition under which the journey of the +Darzacs to Bourg and of M. Stangerson to Dijon was accomplished. + +When they reached Bourg our travellers learned that, on account of +an accident on the line at Culoz, the train would be delayed for an +hour and a half. M. and Mme. Darzac alighted and took a stroll on the +platform. M. Darzac, while talking with his wife, mentioned the fact +that he had forgotten to write some important letters before leaving +Paris. Both entered the buffet, and M. Darzac asked for writing +materials. Mathilde sat beside him for a few moments and then remarked +that she would take a little walk through the station while he finished +his letters. + +“Very well,” replied M. Darzac. “As soon as I have finished, I will +join you.” + +From that point, I will quote M. Darzac’s own words: + +“I had finished writing,” he said. “And I arose to go and look for +Mathilde, when I saw her approaching the buffet, pallid and trembling. +As soon as she perceived me, she uttered a shriek and threw herself +into my arms. ‘Oh, my God!’ she cried. ‘Oh, my God!’ It seemed +impossible for her to utter any other words. She was shaking from +head to foot. I tried to calm her. I assured her that she had nothing +to fear when I was with her, and I strove as gently and patiently as +I could to draw from her the cause of her sudden terror. I made her +sit down, for her limbs seemed too weak to support her, and I begged +her to take some restorative, but she told me that she could not even +swallow a drop of water. Her teeth chattered as though she had an +ague. At length she was able to speak, and she told me, interrupting +herself at almost every other word, and looking about her as though she +expected to encounter something which she dreaded, that she had started +to walk about the station, as she had said she intended to do, but that +she had not dared to go far, lest I should finish my writing and look +for her. Then she went through the station and out upon the platform. +She decided to come back to the buffet, when she noticed through +the lighted windows of the cars, the sleeping car porters, who were +making up the bed in a berth near our own. She remembered immediately +that her night travelling bag, in which she had put her jewels, was +standing unlocked, and she decided to go and lock it up without delay, +not because she suspected the honesty of the employees, but through a +natural instinct of prudence on a journey. She entered the car, walked +down the corridor and came to the glass door of the compartment which +had been reserved for her, and which neither of us had entered since +leaving Paris. She opened the door and instantly uttered a cry of +horror. No one heard her, for there was no one in that part of the car, +and a train which passed at that moment drowned the sound of her voice +with the clamor of the locomotive. What had happened to alarm her? The +most terrible, ghastly, monstrous thing that the imagination could +devise. + +“Within the compartment, the little door opening upon the dressing +cabinet was half drawn toward the interior of the section, cutting +off diagonally the view of whoever might enter. This little door was +ornamented by a mirror. There, in the glass, Mathilde beheld the face +of Larsan! She flung herself backward, shrieking for help, and fled so +precipitately that, in leaping down from the platform of the car, she +fell on her knees in the trainshed. Regaining her feet with difficulty, +she dragged herself toward the buffet, which she reached in the +condition which I have described. + +“When she had told me these things, my first care was to try to +convince her that she was laboring under some hideous delusion--partly +because I prayed that this might be the case, and that the horrible +thing which she believed had not happened, but mainly because I felt +that it was my duty, if I wished to prevent Mathilde from going mad, to +make her think that she must have been mistaken. Wasn’t Larsan dead and +buried? * * * As I soothed her thus, I really believed what I said, and +I continued to reassure her until there remained no doubt in my mind, +at least, that what she had seen was merely a phantom, conjured up by +fear and imagination. Naturally, I wished to make an investigation +for myself, and I offered to accompany Mathilde at once to the +compartment, in order to prove to her that she had been the victim of +an hallucination. She was bitterly opposed to the idea, crying out that +neither she nor I must ever enter the compartment again, and, not only +that, but she refused to continue our journey that night. She said all +these things in little halting phrases--she could hardly breathe--and +it caused me the most intense pain to look at her and listen to her. +The more I told her that such an apparition was an impossibility, +the more she insisted that it was a reality. I tried to remind her +of how seldom she had seen Larsan while the events at the Glandier +were going on--which was true--and to persuade her that she could not +be certain that it was his face which she had beheld, and not that +of some one who might resemble him. She replied that she remembered +Larsan’s face perfectly--that it had appeared before her twice under +such circumstances as would impress it indelibly upon her memory, even +if she were to live for a century--once during the strange scene in +the gallery, and again at the moment when they came into her sick room +to place me under arrest. And then, now that she knew who Larsan was, +it was not only the features of the Secret Service agent that she had +recognized, but the dreaded countenance of the man who had not ceased +pursuing her for so many years. + +“She cried out that she could swear on her life and on mine that she +had seen Ballmeyer--that Ballmeyer was alive--alive in the glass, with +the smooth face of Larsan and his high, bald forehead. She clung to me, +crouching upon the ground like a helpless wild animal, as though she +feared a separation yet more terrible than the others. She drew me from +the buffet where, fortunately, we had been entirely alone, out upon the +platform, and then, suddenly she released my arm, and hiding her face +in her hands, rushed into the superintendent’s office. The man was as +alarmed as myself when he saw the poor soul, and I could only repeat +under my breath to myself, ‘She is going mad again! She will lose her +reason!’ + +“I explained to the superintendent that my wife had been frightened at +something she fancied that she had seen while alone in our compartment, +and I begged him to keep her in his office while I went myself to +discover what it was that she had seen. + +“And then, my friends,” continued Robert Darzac, his voice beginning +to tremble, “I left the superintendent’s office, but I had no sooner +gotten out of the room than I went back and slammed the door behind me. +My face must have looked strange enough, to judge from the expression +of the superintendent’s face when I reappeared. But there was reason +for it. _I, too, had seen Larsan._ My wife had had no illusion. +_Larsan was there_--in the station--upon the platform outside that +door!” + +Robert Darzac paused for an instant, as though the remembrance overcame +him. He passed his hand over his forehead, heaved a sigh and resumed: +“He was there, in front of the superintendent’s door, standing under +a gas jet. Evidently, he expected us and was waiting for us. For, +extraordinarily enough, he made no effort to hide himself. On the +contrary, anyone would have declared that he had stationed himself +there for the express purpose of being seen. The gesture which had made +me close the door upon this apparition was purely instinctive. When I +opened it again, intending to walk straight up to the miserable wretch, +he had disappeared. + +“The superintendent must have thought that he had fallen in with +two lunatics. Mathilde was staring at me, her great eyes wide open, +speechless, as though she were a somnambulist. In a moment, however, +she came back to herself sufficiently to ask me whether it were far +from Bourg to Lyons, and what was the next train which would take +us there. At the same time, she begged me to give orders about our +baggage, and asked me to accede to her desire to rejoin her father +as soon as possible. I could see no other means of calming her, and, +far from making any objection to the new project, I immediately +entered into her plans. Besides, now that I had seen Larsan with my +own eyes--yes, with my own eyes--I knew well that the long honeymoon +trip which we had planned must be given up, and, my dear boy,” went on +M. Darzac, turning to Rouletabille, “I became possessed with the idea +that we were running the risk of some mysterious and fantastic danger, +from which you alone could rescue us, if it were not already too late. +Mathilde was grateful to me for the readiness with which I fell in +with her wish to join her father, and she thanked me fervently, when +I told her that in a few minutes we would be on board the 9:29 train, +which reaches Lyons at about ten o’clock, and when we consulted the +time table, we discovered that we would overtake M. Stangerson himself +at that point. Mathilde showed as much gratitude toward me as though +I were personally responsible for this lucky chance. She had regained +her composure to a certain extent when the nine o’clock train arrived +in the station, but at the moment that we boarded the train, as we +rapidly crossed the platform and passed beneath the gas jet where I +had seen Larsan, I felt her arm trembling in my own. I looked around, +but could not see any sign of our enemy. I asked her whether she had +seen anything, and she made no reply. Her agitation seemed to increase, +however, and she begged me not to take her into a private car, but to +enter a car the berths of which were already two-thirds filled with +passengers. Under pretext of making some inquiries about the baggage, +I left her for an instant, and went to the telegraph office, where I +sent the telegram to you. I said nothing to Mathilde of this dispatch, +because I continued to assure her that her eyes must have deceived her, +and because on no account did I wish her to believe that I placed any +faith in such a resurrection. When my wife opened her travelling bag, +she found that no one had touched her jewels. + +“The few words which we exchanged concerning the secret were in +relation to the necessity for concealing it from M. Stangerson, to +whom it might have dealt a mortal blow. I will pass over his amazement +when he beheld us upon the platform of the station at Lyons. Mathilde +explained to him that on account of a serious accident, which had +closed the line at Culoz, we had decided, since a change of plans had +to be made, that we would join him, and to spend a few days with him +at the home of Arthur Rance and his young wife, as we had before been +entreated to do by this faithful friend of ours.” + +At this time, it might be well for me to interrupt M. Darzac’s +narrative to recall to the memory of the reader of “The Mystery of the +Yellow Room” the fact that M. Arthur William Rance had for many years +cherished a hopeless devotion for Mlle. Stangerson, but had at last +overcome it, and married a beautiful American girl, who knew nothing of +the mysterious adventures of the Professor’s daughter. + +After the affair at the Glandier, and while Mlle. Stangerson was still +a patient in a private asylum near Paris, where the treatment restored +her to health and reason, we heard one fine day that M. Arthur William +Rance was about to wed the niece of an old professor of geology at +the Academy of Science in Philadelphia. Those who had known of his +luckless passion for Mathilde, and had gauged its depths by the excess +with which it was displayed (for it had seemed at one time to rob the +man of sense and reason and turn him into a maniac)--such persons, I +say, believed that Rance was marrying in desperation, and prophesied +little happiness for the union. Stories were told that the match--which +was a good one for Arthur Rance, for Miss Edith Prescott was rich--had +been brought about in a rather singular fashion. But these are stories +which I may tell at some future time. You will learn then by what chain +of circumstances the Rances had been led to locate at Rochers Rouges in +the old castle, on the peninsula of Hercules, of which they had become +the owners the preceding autumn. + +But at present I must give place to M. Darzac, who continued his story, +as follows: + +“When we had given these explanations to M. Stangerson, my wife and I +saw that he seemed to understand very little of what we had said, and +that, instead of being glad to have us with him again, he appeared very +mournful. Mathilde tried in vain to seem happy. Her father saw that +something had happened since we had left him which we were concealing +from him. Mathilde began to talk of the ceremony of the morning, and +in that way the conversation came around to you, my young friend”--and +again M. Darzac addressed himself to Rouletabille--“and I took the +occasion to say to M. Stangerson that since your vacation was just +beginning at the time that we were all going to Mentone, you might be +pleased with an invitation that would give you the chance of spending +your holiday in our society. There was, I said, plenty of room at +Rochers Rouges, and I was certain that M. Arthur Rance and his bride +would extend to you a cordial welcome. While I was speaking, Mathilde +looked gratefully at me and pressed my hand tenderly with an effusion +which showed me what gladness she was experiencing at the proposition. +Thus it happened that when we reached Valence, I had M. Stangerson +write the dispatch which you must have received. All night long we +did not sleep. While her father rested in his compartments next to +ours, Mathilde opened my travelling bag and took out my revolver. She +requested me to put it in my overcoat pocket, saying: ‘If _he_ +should attack us, you must defend yourself.’ Ah, what a night we +passed! We kept silence, each attempting to deceive the other into the +belief that we were resting, our eyes closed, with the light burning +full force, for we did not dare to sit in the darkness. The doors +of our compartment were locked and bolted, but yet, every moment, +we dreaded to see _his_ face appear. When we heard a step in +the corridor, our hearts beat wildly. We seemed to recognize it. And +Mathilde had put a cover over the mirror, for fear of glancing toward +it and seeing the reflection of that face again. ‘Had he followed us?’ +‘Could we have been mistaken?’ ‘Would we escape from him?’ ‘Had he gone +on to Culoz on the train which we had left?’ ‘Could we hope for any +such good fortune?’ For my own part, I did not believe that we could. +And she--she! Ah, how my heart bled for her, wrapped in a silence like +that of death, sitting there in her corner. I knew how she was weighed +down by despair and agony--how far more unhappy she was even than +myself, because of the misery which it seemed to be her lot to bring +upon those whom she loved most dearly. I longed to console her, to +comfort her, but I found no words. And when once I attempted to speak, +she made a gesture so full of misery and desolation that I realized +that I would be far kinder if I kept silence. Then, like her, I closed +my eyes.” + +This was M. Darzac’s story, although I have shortened it in a certain +degree. We felt, Rouletabille and myself, that the narrative was so +important that we both resolved on arriving at Mentone, that we would +write it down from memory as faithfully as possible. We did as we +agreed, and where our versions did not agree, or halted a little, we +submitted them to M. Darzac, who made a few unimportant changes, after +which the story read just as I have given it here. + +The rest of the journey taken by the Darzacs and M. Stangerson +presented no incident worthy of note. At the station of Mentone +Garavan, they found M. Arthur Rance, who was astonished at beholding +the bride and bridegroom; but when he was told that they intended +to spend a few days with him, and to accept the invitation which M. +Darzac, under various pretexts, had always declined, he was delighted, +and declared that his wife would be as glad as himself. He was pleased, +too, to learn that Rouletabille might soon join the party. M. Arthur +Rance had not, even after his marriage to Miss Edith Prescott, been +able to overcome the extreme reserve with which M. Darzac had always +treated him. When, during his last trip to San Remo, the young +Professor of the Sorbonne had been urged in passing to make a visit at +the Château Hercules, he had made his excuses in the most ceremonious +manner. But when he met Rance in the station at Mentone Garavan, M. +Darzac greeted him most cordially, and complimented him upon his +appearance, saying that the air of the country seemed to agree with him +perfectly. + +We have seen how the apparition of Larsan in the station at Bourg had +overthrown all the plans of M. and Mme. Darzac, and had completely +overwhelmed them both with grief and consternation, and had made them +turn to the Rances’ home as to a refuge, casting them, figuratively +speaking, into the arms of these people who were not especially +congenial to them, but whom they believed to be honest, loyal and +willing to protect them. We know that M. Stangerson, to whom nothing +had been told of what had occurred, was beginning to suspect something, +and we know that all three of the party had called Rouletabille to +their aid. It was a veritable panic. And, so far as M. Darzac was +concerned, the terror which he felt was increased by news brought to us +by M. Arthur Rance when he met us at Nice. But before this there had +occurred a little incident which I cannot pass by in silence. As soon +as we reached the Nice station, I had jumped from the train and hurried +into the telegraph office to ask whether there was any message for me. +A dispatch was handed to me, and, without opening it, I went back to M. +Darzac and Rouletabille. + +“Read this!” I said to the young reporter. + +Rouletabille opened the envelope and read: + +“Brignolles has not been away from Paris since April 6th. This is an +absolute certainty.” + +Rouletabille looked at me for a moment and then said: + +“Well, what does this amount to, now that you have it? What did you +suspect, anyway?” + +“It was at Dijon,” I rejoined, vexed at the attitude of the lad toward +the affair, “that the idea came to me that Brignolles might be in some +way concerned in the misfortunes that seem to be crowding upon us, and +of which warning was given by the telegrams that you received. I wired +one of my friends to make inquiries for me in regard to the movements +of the fellow during the last few days. I was anxious to learn whether +he had left Paris.” + +“Well,” said Rouletabille. “You have your inquiries answered. Are you +willing to admit now that Brignolles is not and has never been Larsan +in disguise?” + +“I never thought of any such thing as that!” I exclaimed with some +vexation, for I suspected that Rouletabille was laughing at me. + +The truth was that the idea, absurd as it was, had actually entered my +mind. + +“Will you never stop thinking ill of poor Brignolles?” asked M. Darzac, +with a sad smile at me. “He is quiet and shy, I grant you, but he is a +good lad, just the same.” + +“That’s where we differ,” I retorted. + +And I retired to my own corner of the railway carriage. In general +my personal intuitions in regard to things were poor enough guides +compared to the wonderful insight of Rouletabille, but in this case, +we were to receive proof, only a few days later, that even if the +personality of Brignolles were not another of Larsan’s disguises, +the laboratory assistant was nevertheless a miserable wretch. And +this time both M. Darzac and Rouletabille begged my pardon and paid +their respects to my despised intuitions. But there is no use of +anticipating. If I mention this incident here, it is for the purpose of +showing to how great an extent I was haunted by the image of Larsan, +hiding under some new form, and lurking unknown among us. Dear Heaven! +Larsan had so often proved his talent--I may even say his genius--in +this respect, that I felt that he was quite capable of defying us now, +and of mingling with us while we thought that he was a stranger--or, +perhaps, even a friend. + +I was soon to change my ideas, however, and to believe that this time +Ballmeyer had altered his usual tactics, and the unexpected arrival of +M. Arthur Rance was to go far in leading me to this opinion. Instead +of hiding himself, the bandit was showing himself openly--at least, +to some of us--with an audacity that staggered belief. After all, +what had he to fear in this part of the country? He was well aware +that neither M. Darzac nor his wife would be likely to denounce him, +nor, consequently, would their friends do so. His bold revelation of +his presence seemed to have but one end in view--that of ruining the +happiness of the couple who had believed that his death had opened the +way for their marriage. But an objection arose to that conjecture. Why +should he have chosen such a means of vengeance? Would it not have been +a better plan to let himself be seen before the marriage had taken +place? He would certainly have prevented it by so doing. Yes, but in +that case, he would have found it necessary to appear in his own person +in Paris. But when had any thought of danger or risk been able to deter +Larsan from an undertaking upon which he had determined? Who dared +affirm that he knew of one such case? + +But now let me tell you of the news brought by Arthur Rance when he +joined the three of us on the train at Nice. Rance, of course, knew +nothing of what had happened at Bourg, nothing of the appearing of +Larsan to Mme. Darzac on the train and to her husband in the station, +but he brought alarming tidings. If we had retained the slightest hope +that we had lost Larsan on the road to Culoz, Rance’s words obliterated +it, for he, too, had seen the man whom we so feared, face to face. And +he had come to warn us, before we reached his home, so that we might +decide upon some plan of action. + +“When we were about to return home after having taken you to the +station,” said Rance to Darzac; “after the train had pulled out, +your wife, M. Stangerson and myself thought that we would leave the +carriage for a little while and take a stroll on the promenade walk. +M. Stangerson gave his arm to his daughter. I was at the right of +M. Stangerson, who, therefore, was walking between the two of us. +Suddenly, as we paused for a moment near a sort of public garden to let +a tramcar pass, I brushed against a man who said to me, ‘I beg your +pardon, sir.’ The sound of the voice made me tremble and I knew as well +beforehand as I did when I raised my head that it was Larsan. The voice +was the voice I had heard at the Court of Assizes. He cast a long, calm +look upon the three of us. I do not know how I was able to restrain the +exclamation which rose to my lips,--how I kept from crying aloud his +miserable name! Happily M. Stangerson and Mme. Darzac had not seen him +and I hurried them rapidly away. I made them walk around the garden +and listen to the music in the park and then we returned to where the +carriage was waiting. Upon the sidewalk in front of the station, there +was Larsan again! I do not know--I cannot understand how M. Stangerson +and Mme. Darzac could have helped but see him----” + +“Are you sure that they did not see him?” interrupted Robert Darzac. + +“Absolutely sure. I feigned a sudden attack of illness. We got into the +carriage and ordered the coachman to drive as fast as he could. The man +was still standing on the sidewalk, staring after us with his cold, +cruel eyes when we drove away.” + +“And are you certain that my wife did not see him?” repeated Darzac, +who was growing more and more agitated. + +“Certain, I assure you.” + +“But, Good God, M. Darzac!” interposed Rouletabille. “How long do +you think you can deceive your wife as to the fact that Larsan has +reappeared and that she actually saw him? If you imagine that you can +keep her in ignorance for very long, you are greatly mistaken.” + +“But,” replied Darzac, “while we were ending our journey, the idea that +she had been the victim of a delusion seemed to grow in her mind and by +the time we reached Garavan, she seemed to be quite calm.” + +“At the time you reached Garavan,” said Rouletabille, quietly, “your +wife sent me the telegram I am going to ask you to read.” + +And the reporter held out to M. Darzac the paper which bore the two +words, “Save us.” + +M. Darzac read it with the blood seeming to die away from his face as +we looked at him. + +“She will go mad again,” was all that he said. + +That was what he dreaded--all of us--and, strangely enough, when we +arrived at the station of Mentone Garavan and found M. Stangerson and +Mme. Darzac (who were awaiting us in spite of the promise which the +Professor had made to Arthur Rance not to leave Rochers Rouges nor +allow his daughter to do so until we came, for reasons which their host +said he would tell them later, not being able to invent them on the +spur of the moment) it was with a phrase which seemed the echo of our +terror that Mme. Darzac greeted Rouletabille. As soon as she perceived +the young man, she rushed toward him and it seemed to us that she was +making a great effort not to throw her arms around him. I saw that her +spirit was clinging to him as a shipwrecked sailor grips at the hand +which is stretched out to save him from drowning. And I heard the words +that she whispered to him: + +“I know that I am going mad!” + +As to Rouletabille, I may have seen his face as pale before, but I had +never seen it look like that of a man stricken with his death blow. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + THE FORT OF HERCULES + + +When he alights at the Garavan station, whatever may be the season +of the year in which he visits that enchanted country, the traveler +might almost fancy himself in the Garden of Hesperides whose golden +apples excited the desire of the conqueror of the Nemæan lion. I might +not perhaps, however, have recalled to mind the son of Jupiter and +Alcmene merely because of the numerous lemon and orange trees which in +the balmy air let their ripened fruit hang heavily on their boughs if +everything about the scene had not spoken of his mythological glories +and his fabled promenade upon these fair shores. You remember how the +Phœnicians in transporting their penates to the shadow of the rocks +which were one day to become the abode of the Grimaldi, gave to the +little port in which they anchored and to other natural features all +along the shore--a mountain, a cape, and an islet--the name of Hercules +whom they looked upon as their god--the name which they have always +retained. But I like to fancy that the Phœnicians found the name here +already, and indeed, if the divinities, fatigued by the white dust +of the roads of Hellas, went to seek for a marvellous spot, warm and +perfumed, to rest after their strenuous adventures, they could not have +found a more beautiful scene. The gods, to my mind, were the first +tourists of the Riviera. The Garden of the Hesperides was nowhere else +and Hercules had made the place ready for his Olympian comrades by +destroying the evil dragon with an hundred heads who wanted to keep the +azure shore for himself, all alone. And I am not at all certain that +the bones of the ancient elephant discovered a few years ago in the +neighborhood of Rochers Rouges were not those of the dragon himself! + +When, after alighting from the train, we came in silence to the bank +of the sea, our eyes were immediately struck by a dazzling silhouette +of a castle standing upon the peninsula of Hercules, which the works +accomplished on the frontier have, alas, nearly destroyed. The oblique +rays of the sun which were falling upon the walls and the old Square +Tower made the reflection of the tower glisten in the waters like a +breastplate. The tower seemed to stand guard like an old sentinel, over +the Bay of Garavan which lay before us like a blue lake of fire. And +as we advanced nearer, the tower gleaming in the water seemed to grow +longer. The sky behind us leaned toward the crest of the mountains; the +promontories to the west were already wrapped in clouds at the approach +of night and by the time we crossed the threshold of the actual +structure the castle in the water was only a menacing shade. + +Upon the lower steps of the stairway which led up to one of the towers, +we beheld a slender, charming figure. It was Arthur Rance’s wife, who +had been the beautiful and brilliant Edith Prescott. Certainly the +Bride of Lammermoor was not more pale on the day when the black-eyed +stranger from Ravenswood first crossed her path, O Edith! Ah, when one +wishes to present a romantic figure in a mediæval frame, the figure +of a princess, lost in dreams, plaintive and melancholy, one should +not have such eyes, my lady! And your hair was as black as the raven’s +wing. Such coloring is not of the kind which one is used to attribute +to the angels. Are you an angel, Edith? Is this gentle, plaintive +little manner natural or acquired? Is the sweet expression that your +face wears to-day an entirely truthful one? Pardon that I ask you all +these questions, Edith; but when I beheld you for the first time, +after having been entranced by the delicate harmony of your white +figure, standing motionless upon the stone stair, I followed the quick, +lowering glance of your dark eyes in the direction of the daughter of +Professor Stangerson, and it had a cruel look which accorded ill with +the sweet tones of your voice and the bright smile on your lips. + +The voice of the young wife was her greatest charm although the grace +of her entire being was perfect. At the introductions which were, +of course, performed by her husband, she greeted us in the simplest +and sweetest fashion imaginable--the fashion of the ideal hostess. +Rouletabille and myself made an effort to tell her that we had intended +to look for a stopping place in the village instead of trespassing +upon her hospitality. She made a delicious little grimace, lifted her +shoulders with a gesture that was almost childish, said that our rooms +were all ready for us and changed the subject. + +“Come, come! You haven’t seen the château. You must see it--all of you. +Oh, I will show you ‘la Louve’ another time. It is the only gloomy +corner in the place. It is horrible--so cold and dismal. It makes me +shiver. But, do you know I love to shiver! Oh, M. Rouletabille, you’ll +tell me stories that will make me shiver some day, won’t you?” + +And chattering thus, she glided in front of us in her white gown. +She walked like an actress. She made a singularly pretty picture in +this garden of the Orient, between the threatening old tower and the +carved stone flowers of the ruined chapel. The vast court which we were +crossing was so completely covered on every side with grass, shrubs and +foliage plants, with cactus and aloes, mountain laurel, wild roses and +marguerites that one might have sworn that an eternal spring had found +its habitation in this enclosure, formerly the drilling ground of the +château when the soldiers assembled in time of war. This court, through +the help of the winds of heaven and the neglect of man had naturally +become a garden, a beautiful wild garden in which one saw that the +chatelaine had interfered as little as possible and which she had in no +way attempted to restore to the beaten track. Behind all this verdure +and this wealth of bloom one could see the most exquisite sight which +could be imagined in dead architecture. Figure to yourself the perfect +arches of gothic brought up to the doors of the old Roman chapel; the +pillars twined with climbing plants, rose geranium and vervain uniting +their sweet perfume and raising to the azure heavens their broken +arch, which nothing seems to support. There is no longer a roof on the +chapel. And there are no more walls. There remains of it only the bit +of lace work in stone, which a miracle of equilibrium keeps suspended +in the air. + +And at our left is the immense tower of the Twelfth Century, +which, Mme. Edith tells us, the natives call “la Louve” and which +nothing--neither time, nor man, nor peace, nor war, nor cannon, nor +tempest has ever been able to destroy. It is just as it appeared +in 1107, when the Saracens, who sowed devastation in their wake, +were able to make no headway in their attacks upon the château of +Hercules,--just as it was seen by Salageri and his corsairs of Genoa, +when, after they had seized the fort and the Square Tower and even the +castle itself, it resisted attack and its defenders held it until the +arrival of the troops of the Princes of Provence, who delivered them. +It was there that Mme. Edith had chosen to have her own rooms. + +[Illustration: The Plan of the Fort of Hercules.] + +But while she spoke to us in her sweet, clear voice, I stopped looking +at the objects around us to look at the people. Arthur Rance was gazing +at Mme. Darzac, when my eyes fell upon them, and Rouletabille seemed +to be lost in thought, and far, far away from us all. M. Darzac and +M. Stangerson were talking in low tones. The same thought was filling +the minds of each one of these people--both those who kept silence and +those who, if they spoke, were careful to say nothing which could give +a clue to the thoughts. We reached the postern. + +“This is what we call the Gardener’s Tower,” said Edith, childishly. +“From this gate one may see all the fort, and all the castle, both +north and south. See!” + +And she stretched her arms wide to emphasize her words. + +“Every stone has its history. I’ll tell them to you some day, if you +are good.” + +“How gay Edith is!” murmured her husband. I thought to myself that she +was the only one who was gay in the party. + +We had passed through the postern and found ourselves in another +court. Opposite us was the old donjon. Its appearance was more than +impressive. It was high and square, and it was on account of its shape +that it was known as the Square Tower. And, as this tower occupies +the most important corner of the fortification, it was also known as +the Corner Tower. It was the most extraordinary and the most important +part of this agglomeration of defensive works. The walls were heavier +and higher than those anywhere else, and half way up they were still +sealed with the Roman cement with which Cæsar’s own columns had welded +together the stones. + +“That tower yonder, in the opposite corner,” went on Edith, “is the +Tower of Charles the Bold, so called because he was the Duke who +furnished the plans when it became necessary to transform the defenses +of the château, so as to make them resist the attacks of the artillery. +Don’t you think I am very learned? Old Bob has made this tower his +study. It is too bad, for we might have a magnificent dining hall +there. But I have never been able to refuse old Bob anything he wanted. +Old Bob,” she added, with a charming smile, “is my uncle--that is the +name he taught me to call him by when I was a little thing. He is not +here just now. He went to Paris on the five o’clock train, but he +will be back to-morrow. He is going to compare some of the anatomical +specimens which he found at Rochers Rouges with those in the Museum of +Natural History in Paris. Ah--here is an oubliette!” + +And she showed us in the centre part of the second court a small +shaft, which she called, romantically, an oubliette, and above which a +eucalyptus tree, with its white blossoms and its leafless limbs, leaned +like a woman over a fountain. + +Since we had entered the second court, we understood better--or at +least I did, for Rouletabille, every moment more deeply lost in his own +thoughts, seemed neither to see nor to hear--the topographical plan of +the Fort of Hercules. As this plan is of the greatest importance in the +proper understanding of the incredible events which were to occur so +soon after our arrival at Rochers Rouges, I shall place at once before +the eyes of the reader the general scheme of the buildings as it was +traced later by Rouletabille and myself. + +The castle had been built in 1140 by the Seigneurs of Mortola. In order +to isolate it completely from the land, they had not hesitated to make +an island of the peninsula by cutting away the narrow isthmus which +connected it with the mainland. Upon the mainland itself, they had +built a barricade in the form of a semicircular fortification, designed +to protect the approaches to the drawbridge and the two entrance +towers. Not a trace of this fortification was left. And the isthmus, +in the course of the centuries, had again resumed its old form, the +drawbridge had been thrown down and the trenches had filled up. The +walls of the Château of Hercules followed the outline of the peninsula, +which was that of an irregular hexagon. The walls were built upon the +rocks, and the latter, in some places, extended over the waters in such +a manner that a little ship might have taken shelter beneath them, +fearing no enemy, while it was protected by this natural ceiling. This +design of building was marvellously well adapted for defense, and gave +the inmates of the fortress little reason to fear an attack, no matter +from what quarter it might come. + +The fort was entered by way of the north gate, which guarded the two +towers, A and A′, connected by a passageway. These towers which had +suffered greatly during the last sieges of the Genoese, had been +repaired to some slight extent some time afterward, and had, shortly +before we came to Rochers Rouges, been made habitable by Mrs. Rance, +who used them as servants’ quarters. The front of the tower A served as +the keeper’s lodge. A little door opened in the side of the tower upon +the passageway, and enabled anyone looking out to observe all those who +came or went. A heavy double door of oak, with bands of iron, was no +longer in use, its twin portals having stood for uncounted years open +against the inner walls of the two towers, on account of the difficulty +which had been experienced in managing them; and the entrance to the +castle was only closed by a little gate, which anyone might open at +will. This entrance was the only one by which it was possible to get +into the château. As I have said, in passing through this gate, one +found himself in the first court, closed in on all sides by the walls +and the towers. These walls were by no means as high as when they were +built. The old high courtyards which connected the towers had been +razed to the ground and replaced by a sort of circular boulevard, from +which one mounted toward the first court by means of a little terrace. +The boulevards were still crowned by a parapet. For the changes which +I have described took place in the Fifteenth Century, at the time +when every lord of the manor was obliged to consider the possibility +of being obliged to meet an attack of artillery. As to the towers B, +B′ and B″, which had for a considerable time longer preserved their +uniformity and their first height, and the pointed roofs of which had +been replaced by a platform designed to support the artillery, they had +later been razed to the height of the boulevard parapets, and their +shape seemed almost like that of a half moon. These alterations had +taken place in the Seventeenth Century, at the time of the construction +of a modern castle, still known as the New Castle, although it had been +in ruins for years when we first saw it. The New Castle on the plan is +at C C′. + +[Illustration: The Fort of Hercules.] + +Upon the flat platform roofs of these old towers--roofs which were +surrounded by a parapet--palm trees had been planted, which had thriven +ill, swept as they were by the sea winds and burned by the sun. When +one leaned over the circular parapet which surrounded the whole domain, +it seemed to him as though the château were still as completely closed +in as it was in the days when the courtyards reached to the second +stories of the old towers. “La Louve,” as I have said, had not been +changed at all, but still reared its dark hulk against the blue waters +of the Mediterranean, a strange, weird figure, looking thousands of +years old. I have spoken also of the ruins of the chapel. The ancient +commons (shown on the map by W), near the parapet between B and B′, had +been transformed into the stables and the kitchens. + +I am describing now all the anterior portion of the Château of +Hercules. One could only penetrate into the second enclosure through +the postern (indicated by H), which Mrs. Arthur Rance called “the tower +of the gardener,” and which was actually only a pavilion, formerly +defended by the tower B″, and by another tower situated at C, and which +had entirely disappeared at the time of the erection of the New Castle +(shown at C C′). A moat and a wall started from B″ to abut on I at the +Tower of Charles the Bold, advancing at C in the form of a spur to the +midst of the first court, and entirely isolating the court, which they +completely closed in. The moat still exists, wide and deep, but the +walls had been torn down all the length of the New Castle and replaced +by the walls of the castle itself. A central door at D, now condemned, +opened upon a bridge, which had been thrown over the moat, and which +formerly permitted direct communication with the outer court. But this +bridge had been torn down or was swallowed up in the waters, and as the +windows of the castle, rising high above the moat, were still guarded +by their heavy iron bars, one might readily believe that the inner +court still remained as impenetrable as when it was entirely shut in by +its enclosing walls at the time when the New Castle did not exist. + +The pavement of the inner court--the Court of Charles the Bold, as +the old guide books of the country call it still--was a little higher +than that of the outer court. The rocks formed there a very high seat, +a natural pedestal of that colossal black column, the Old Castle, +standing square and erect, as though it had been carved from a single +block of stone, stretching its awesome shadow over the blue waters. One +could only penetrate into the Old Castle (designated by F) by a little +door, K. The old inhabitants of the country never spoke of it except as +the Square Tower, to distinguish it from the Round Tower, or the Tower +of Charles the Bold, as they sometimes called the latter. A parapet +similar to the one which closed in the outer court was built between +the towers B″, F and L, closing the inner court as firmly as the outer. + +We have seen that the Round Tower had been in years past torn down to +half its former height, as it had been built by the Mortola, according +to plans drawn by Charles the Bold himself, to whom the Seigneur +had been of some service in the Helvetian war. This tower had a +number of tiny chambers above, and an immense octagon chamber below. +One descended into this chamber by a steep and narrow stairway. The +ceiling of the octagon room was supported by four great cylindrical +pillars, and from its walls opened three enormous embrasures for three +enormous cannons. It was of this room that Mme. Edith had wished to +make a dining room, for it was in an admirable state of preservation, +on account of the thickness of the walls, and the light could still +penetrate through the great windows, which had been enlarged and made +square, although they, too, were still guarded by barriers of iron. +This tower (shown on the map at L) was the spot chosen by Mme. Edith’s +uncle for a workshop, and the abiding place of his collection. Its roof +was a beautiful little garden, to which the mistress of the domain had +had transported fertile soil and wonderful plants and flowers. I have +marked upon the map in gray all the portions of the buildings which +Mme. Edith had restored, improved and put in shape for habitation. + +Of the château of the Seventeenth Century, known as the New Castle, +they had only repaired two bed chambers on the first floor and a little +sitting room for guests. It was to these that Rouletabille and myself +were assigned, while M. and Mme. Robert Darzac were lodged in the +Square Tower, of which I shall have to give a more special description. + +Two rooms, the windows of which opened upon the balcony, were reserved +in this Square Tower for “Old Bob,” who slept there. M. Stangerson was +upon the first floor of “la Louve,” in the rear of the suite occupied +by the Rances. + +Mme. Edith herself showed us to our rooms. She made us cross over +the sunken ceilings of ruined apartments, over broken railings and +tumble-down walls; but here and there some mouldy hangings, a broken +statue or a ragged bit of tapestry, bore witness to the ancient +splendors of the New Castle, born of the fantasies of some Mortola of +the wonderful Seventeenth Century. But when we reached them, our little +rooms recalled to us nothing of that magnificent past. They had been +swept and garnished with a care that was almost touching. Clean and +hygienic, without carpets, hangings or upholstered chairs, furnished +in the simplest of modern styles, they pleased us very much. As I have +already said, the two sleeping rooms were separated by a little parlor. + +As I tied my cravat, after dressing for dinner, I called Rouletabille +to ask him if he were ready. There was no answer. I went into his room +and discovered with surprise that he had already gone out. I went +to the window of his room, which opened like my own upon the court +of Charles the Bold. The court was empty, inhabited only by a large +eucalyptus, the fragrance of which mounted to my nostrils. Above the +parapet of the boulevard I saw the vast stretch of the silent waters. +The blue of the sea had grown dark at the fall of evening, and the +shades of night were visible on the horizon of the Italian shore, +reaching already to the pointe d’Ospedaletti. Not a sound, not a +breath on the land or in the heavens! I have never yet noticed such a +silence and such a complete repose of nature except at the moment which +precedes the most violent storms and the unchaining of the elements. +But now I felt that we had nothing of the sort to fear. The whole +appearance of the night was of the calmest, most serene beauty---- + +But what was that dark shadow? From whence had come that spectre +which glided over the waters? Standing erect at the prow of a little +boat which a fisherman was rowing, keeping rhythmic time with the two +oars, I recognized the form of Larsan. Why should I try to deceive +myself by saying even for one moment that I was wrong? He was only too +easily to be recognized. And if those who beheld him should have had +the slightest doubt as to his identity, he seemed to desire to set +it entirely at rest by this open display of himself, utterly without +disguise, as entirely convincing as though he had shouted aloud, “It is +I!” + +Oh, yes! it was he! It was “the great Fred,” as we used to call him +when we looked upon him only as the wonderfully resourceful and +brilliant Secret Service agent. The boat, silent, with its motionless +statue at the prow, rowed completely around the peninsula. It passed +beneath the windows of the Square Tower and then directed its course +to the shores of the Pointe de Garibaldi. And the man still stood +erect, his arms folded, his face turned toward the tower, a diabolical +apparition on the threshold of the night, which slowly crept up behind +him, enveloped him in its shades and carried him away. + +When he had vanished, I lowered my eyes and beheld two figures in the +court of Charles the Bold. They were at the corner of the railing +near the little door of the Square Tower. One of these forms--the +taller--was supporting the other and speaking in tones of entreaty. The +smaller attempted to break away--one would have said that it wished to +throw itself into the sea. And I heard the voice of Mme. Darzac say: + +“Be careful. It is a gage of defiance which he has thrown down. You +shall not leave me this evening.” + +And then came Rouletabille’s voice answering: + +“He must land upon the bank! Let me hurry to the bank.” + +“What will you do there?” moaned Mathilde. + +“Whatever may be necessary.” + +And then Mathilde spoke again, and her voice was terrible to hear. + +“I forbid you to touch that man!” + +And I heard no more. + +I descended to the court, where I found Rouletabille alone, seated upon +the edge of the oubliette. I spoke to him, but he did not answer. I +felt no surprise, for this had often happened of late. I went on into +the outer court, and I saw M. Darzac coming toward me, evidently in the +greatest excitement. Before I came up to him, he called out: + +“Did you see him?” + +“Yes, I saw him,” I replied. + +“And she--my wife--do you know whether she saw him?” + +“She saw him, too. She was with Rouletabille when he passed. What +bravado the creature showed!” + +Robert Darzac was trembling like an aspen leaf from the shock which he +had just experienced. He told me that as soon as he had caught sight of +the boat and its passenger, he had rushed like a madman to the shore, +but that before he had reached the Pointe de Garibaldi the bark had +disappeared as if by enchantment. But even before he finished speaking, +Darzac left me and hurried away to seek Mathilde, dreading the thought +of the state of mind in which he felt that he would find her. But he +returned almost immediately, gloomy and grieved. The door of his wife’s +apartment was locked, and she had said to him that she wished to be +alone for awhile. + +“And Rouletabille?” I asked. + +“I have not seen him.” + +We remained together upon the rampart gazing at the night which had +carried Larsan away. Robert Darzac was infinitely sorrowful. In order +to change the direction of his thoughts, I asked him a few questions +regarding the Rance household. Here is in substance the information +which I succeeded in extracting from him little by little: + +After the trial at Versailles, Arthur Rance had returned to +Philadelphia, and there, one evening, at a family dinner party, he had +found himself seated beside a charming young girl, who had interested +him at once by a display of interest in literature and art, the +like of which he had not often seen in his beautiful countrywomen. +She was not in the least like the quick, independent and audacious +type of young women who are often found in America, nor was she of +the “Fluffy Ruffles” variety, so much in favor at present. Somewhat +haughty in mien, yet gentle and melancholy, she at once recalled to +the young man the heroines of Walter Scott, who he soon learned was +her favorite author. From the first, she attracted him strongly. How +could this delicate little creature so quickly have impressed Arthur +Rance, who had been madly in love with the majestic Mathilde? Of such +are the mysteries of the heart. Now, fortunately or unfortunately, +as you prefer, Arthur Rance had upon that evening so far forgotten +himself as to drink considerably more wine than was good for him. He +never realized what his offense had been, but he knew that he must +have committed some frightful blunder or breach of politeness, when +Miss Edith in a low voice and with heightened color, requested him not +to address her again. Upon the morrow, Arthur Rance went to call on +the young lady and entreated her pardon, swearing that he would never +permit wine to pass his lips again. + +Arthur Rance had already known for some time Miss Prescott’s uncle, +the fine old man who still bore among his friends the nickname of “Old +Bob,” which had been given him in his college days, and who was as +celebrated for his adventures as an explorer as for his discoveries as +a geologist. He seemed as gentle as a sheep, but he had hunted many +a tiger through the pampas of South America. He had spent half his +life south of the Rio Negro among the Patagonians, in seeking for the +man of the tertiary period--or, at least, for his fossils, not as the +anthropological relic or some other pithecanthropus, approaching in +a greater or less extent the race of monkeys, but as the real living +man, stronger, more powerful, than those who inhabit this planet in our +own day--the man, to speak clearly, who must have been contemporaneous +with the immense mammoths and mastodons, which appeared upon the +globe before the quarternary epoch. He generally returned from these +expeditions with closely filled notebooks and a respectable collection +of tibias and femurs, which may or may not have belonged to the +aboriginal man, and also with a rich display of skins of wild beasts, +which showed that the spectacled old savant knew how to use more +modern arms than the stone ax and bow and arrow. As soon as he was +back in Philadelphia, he would dispose of his treasures either in his +private cabinets or in those of the Museum, and, opening his notebooks, +would resume his lectures, amusing himself as he talked by making the +splinters from the long pencils, which he was always sharpening but had +never been seen to use, fly almost into the eyes of the students on the +front benches. + +All these details were given me later by Arthur Rance himself. He had +been one of “Old Bob’s” pupils, but had not seen him in many years +until he made the acquaintance of Miss Edith. If I have seemed to +dwell too minutely on such apparently unimportant things, I have done +so because, by quite a natural train of events, we were to make “Old +Bob’s” acquaintance at Rochers Rouges. + +Miss Edith, upon the occasion when Arthur Rance had been presented to +her and had forgotten himself on account of overindulgence in wine, had +seemed somewhat more melancholy than she usually was, because she had +received disquieting news of her uncle. The latter for four years back +had been absent on a trip to Patagonia. In his last letter, he had told +his niece that he was ill, and that he feared that he should not live +to see her again. One might be tempted to wonder why so tender-hearted +a niece, under such circumstances, had not refrained from attending a +dinner, no matter how quiet, but Miss Edith, during her uncle’s many +absences from home, had so frequently received such communications from +him and had afterward seen him return in such perfect health that she +could scarcely be blamed for not having remained at home to mourn that +evening. Three months later, however, having received another letter, +she suddenly resolved to go all alone to South America and join her +uncle. During those three months important events had transpired. Miss +Edith had been touched by the remorse of Arthur Rance, and when Miss +Prescott departed for Patagonia, no one was astonished to find that +“Old Bob’s” old pupil was going to accompany her. If the engagement was +not officially announced, it was because the pair preferred to wait for +the consent of the geologist. Miss Edith and Arthur Rance were met at +St. Louis by the young woman’s uncle. He was in excellent health and in +a charming humor. Rance, who had not seen him in years, declared to him +that he had grown younger--the easiest of compliments to pay and the +pleasantest to receive. When his niece informed him of her engagement +to this fine young fellow, the uncle manifested the greatest delight. +The three returned to Philadelphia, where the wedding took place. +Miss Edith had never been in France, and Arthur determined that their +honeymoon should be spent there. And it was thus that they found, as +will be told a little later, a scientific reason for locating in the +neighborhood of Mentone, not exactly in France, but an hundred meters +from the frontier, in Italy, at Rochers Rouges. + + * * * * * + +The gong had sounded for dinner, and Arthur Rance was coming to look +for us, so we repaired to “la Louve,” in the lower hall of which we +were to dine. When we were all assembled (save “Old Bob,” who, as has +been mentioned, was absent), Mme. Edith asked whether any of us had +noticed a little boat which had made the circle of the fortress, and +in which a man was standing erect. The man’s strange attitude had +struck her, she said. No one replied, and she added: + +“Oh, I know who it is, for I know the fisherman who rowed the boat. He +is a great friend of Old Bob.” + +“Ah, then you know the fisherman, madame?” asked Rouletabille. + +“He comes to the castle sometimes to sell fish. The people around the +village have given him an odd name, which I don’t know how to say in +their impossible patois, but I can translate it. They call him, ‘the +hangman of the sea.’ A pretty name, isn’t it?” + + + + + CHAPTER VII + +WHICH TELLS OF SOME PRECAUTIONS TAKEN BY JOSEPH ROULETABILLE TO DEFEND + THE FORT OF HERCULES AGAINST THE ATTACK OF AN ENEMY + + +Rouletabille had not even the politeness to inquire into the +explanation of this amazing sobriquet. He appeared to be plunged in the +deepest meditation. A strange dinner! a strange castle! strange guests! +All the graces and coquetries of Mme. Edith had no effect in awakening +us to any semblance of life. There were two newly married pairs, four +lovers, who ought to have been radiant with the joy of life, and to +have made the hours pass gayly and happily. But the repast was one +of the most gloomy at which I have ever been present. The spectre of +Larsan hovered about our festivities, and it seemed almost as though +the man whom we knew to be so near was actually among us. + +It is as well to say here that Professor Stangerson, since he had +learned the cruel, the miserable truth, had not for one moment been +able to free himself from the thought of it. I do not think that I +am saying too much in declaring that the first victim of the affair +at the Glandier, and the most unfortunate of all, was this good old +man. He had lost everything--his faith in science, his love of work, +and--more bitter than all the rest--his belief in his daughter. His +faith in her had been his religion. She had been such an object of +joy and pride. He had thought of her for so many years as a vestal +virgin, seeking, with him, the unknown in the world of higher things. +He had been so marvellously dazzled with the thought of her angelic +purity, and had believed that her reason for having remained unmarried +was that she was unwilling to resign herself to any life which would +withdraw her from science and her father, to both of which she had +dedicated her existence. And while he was thinking of her almost with +reverence, he discovered that the reason that his daughter refused to +marry was because she was already the wife of Ballmeyer. The day in +which Mathilde had decided to confess everything to her father, and +to tell him the story of the past, which must clear up the present +with a tragic light to the eyes of the professor, already warned by +the mysteries of the Glandier--the day when, falling at his feet and +embracing his knees, she had told him the story of her youth, Professor +Stangerson had raised the form of his beloved child from the ground +and had pressed her to his heart; he had placed a kiss of pardon on +her brow; he had mingled his tears with the sobs of her whose fault +had been so bitterly expiated, and he had sworn to her that she had +never been more precious than since he had known how she had suffered. +And by these words, she was a little comforted. But he, when she left +his presence, was another man--a man alone, all alone----. Professor +Stangerson had lost his daughter and his goddess. + +He had experienced only indifference in regard to her marriage to +Robert Darzac, although the latter had been the best beloved of his +pupils. In vain Mathilde, with the warmest tenderness, had endeavored +to rekindle the old feeling in the heart of her father. She knew well +that he had changed toward her, that his glance never dwelt upon her +in the old fond way, and that his weary eyes were looking back into +the past at an image which he had only dreamed was her own. And she +knew, too, that when those eyes rested upon her--upon her, Mathilde +Darzac--it was to see at her side, not the honored figure of a good +man and tender husband, but the shadow, eternally living, eternally +infamous, of the other--the man who had stolen his daughter. The +Professor could work no longer. The great secret of the dissolution of +matter which he had promised to reveal to mankind, had returned to the +unknown from which, for a moment, the scientist had drawn it, and men +will go on, repeating for centuries to come the imbecile phrase, “From +nothing, nothing.” + + * * * * * + +The evening meal was rendered still more doleful by the setting in +which it was served--the sombre hall, lighted by a gothic lamp, with +old candelabra of wrought iron, and the walls of the fortress adorned +with oriental tapestries, against which were ranged the old suits of +armor dating back to the first Saracen invasion and the sieges of +Dagobert. + +I looked at the members of the party, and it seemed to me that I was +able to see reason enough for the general sadness. M. and Mme. Darzac +were seated beside each other. The mistress of the house had evidently +not desired to separate a bridal pair, whose union only dated back to +yesterday. Of the two, I must say that the more unhappy looking was, +beyond a doubt, our friend, Robert. He never spoke one word. Mme. +Darzac joined to some extent in the conversation, exchanging now and +then a few commonplaces with Arthur Rance. Is it necessary for me +to add that at this time, after the scene between Rouletabille and +Mathilde, which I had witnessed from my window, I expected to see her +in a most wretched state--almost overcome by the vision of Larsan, +which had surged up in front of her eyes? But no: on the contrary, I +discovered a remarkable difference between the terrified aspect with +which she had approached us at the station, for instance, and the +easy, composed manner which was hers, at present. One would have said +that she had been relieved by the sight of the apparition, and when I +expressed my opinion to Rouletabille later in the evening, I discovered +that he shared it, and he explained the reason for Mathilde’s change +of manner in the simplest possible fashion. The unhappy woman had +dreaded nothing so much as the thought that she was going mad, and +the certainty that she had not been the victim of a mental delusion, +cruel as that certainty was, had served to make her a little more calm. +She preferred to fight even against the living Larsan than against a +phantom. In the first interview which she had had with Rouletabille in +the Square Tower, while I was dressing for dinner, she had, my young +friend told me, been completely possessed by the dread that insanity +was coming upon her. Rouletabille, in telling me of this interview, +acknowledged to me that he had taken altogether different means to +calm Mathilde from those which Robert Darzac had employed--that is, +he made no effort to conceal from her that her eyes had seen clearly +and had seen Frederic Larsan. When she was told that Robert Darzac had +only denied the truth to her because he feared for its effect upon +her, and that he had been the first to telegraph to Rouletabille to +come to their aid, she heaved a sigh so long and so deep that it was +almost a sob. She took Rouletabille’s hands in her own and covered +them with kisses, just as a mother kisses the hands of her little +child. Evidently she was instinctively drawn toward the youth by all +the mysterious forces of maternal affection, in spite of the fact that +she had every reason to believe that her child had died years before. +It was just at this point that the two had first noticed through the +window of the tower the form of Frederic Larsan, standing erect in +the boat. At first, both had remained, stupefied, motionless and mute +at the sight. Then a cry of rage escaped from the agonized heart of +Rouletabille, and he longed to pursue the man and reckon with him, face +to face. I have told how Mathilde held him back, clinging to him upon +the parapet. In her mind, apparently, horrible as was this resurrection +of Larsan, it was less horrible than the continual and supernatural +resurrection of a Larsan who had no existence save in her own diseased +brain. She no longer saw Larsan everywhere around her. She saw him in +the flesh, as he was. + +At one moment trembling with nervousness, the next gentle and composed, +now patient and in another instant impatient, Mathilde, even while +conversing with Arthur Rance, showed for her husband the most charming +and sweetest solicitude imaginable. She was attentive to him at every +moment, serving him herself, and smiling gently at him as she did +so, watching him carefully, to be sure that he was not overtired and +that the light did not strike too near his eyes. Robert thanked her +for her cares, but seemed none the less frightfully unhappy. And his +demeanor compelled me to recollect the fact that the resuscitation of +Larsan would undoubtedly recall to Mme. Darzac that before she was Mme. +Darzac, she had been Mme. Jean Roussel Ballmeyer Larsan before God and +herself, and even, so far as the transatlantic laws are concerned, +before men as well. + +If the design of Larsan in showing himself had been to deal a frightful +blow to a happiness which had yet scarcely begun, he had completely +succeeded. And, perhaps, as the historian of all parts of this strange +affair, I ought to mention the fact that Mathilde had given Robert +Darzac at once to understand that she did not regard herself as his +wife, since the man to whom she had pledged herself in her early +girlhood was still living. I have said that Mathilde Stangerson had +been brought up in a very religious manner, not by her father, who +cared little for such things, but by her female relatives, especially +her old aunt in Cincinnati. The scientific studies which she had +pursued with her father had in no wise impaired her faith, while +the latter had taken care never to speak against religion to his +daughter. She had preserved it, even in the deepest researches into +the professor’s theory of the creation. She said to him that no matter +how plausibly he might prove that everything came from nothingness, +that is to say, from the atmosphere, and returned to nothingness in the +end, it remained to prove that that nothing, originating from nothing, +had not been created by God. And, as she was a good Catholic, she +believed that the Vicar of Christ on earth was the Pope. I might have +perhaps passed over these religious beliefs of Mathilde in silence, if +they had not had so strong an influence on the resolution which she +had taken in regard to her second husband, when she discovered that +her first husband was still alive. It had seemed to her that Larsan’s +death had been proven beyond the slightest doubt, and she had gone to +her new husband as a widow with the approval of her confessor. And +now she learned that in the sight of Heaven, she was not a widow, +but a bigamist! But, at all events, the catastrophe might not be +irremediable, and she herself proposed to poor M. Darzac that the +case should be propounded to the ecclesiastical courts of Rome for a +settlement as quickly as possible. Thus it was that M. and Mme. Robert +Darzac, forty-eight hours after their marriage in the Church of St. +Nicolas du Chardonnet, were separated by a gulf over which one could +not and the other would not pass. The reader will comprehend from +this brief explanation the mournful demeanor of Robert and the gentle +sweetness displayed toward him by Mathilde. + +Without being entirely conversant with all these details on the evening +of which I write, I nevertheless suspected most of them. Leaving the +Darzacs, my eyes wandered to the neighbor of Mme. Darzac, M. Arthur +William Rance, and my thoughts were taking a new turn, when they were +suddenly arrested by the butler’s coming to say that Bernier, the +concierge, requested to speak to M. Rouletabille. My friend arose, +excused himself, and left the room. + +“What!” I cried. “The Berniers are no longer at the Glandier?” + +Readers of “The Mystery of the Yellow Room” will recall that these +Berniers--the man and his wife--were the concierges of M. Stangerson +at Ste. Genevieve-des-Bois. I have told in that work how Rouletabille +had had them set at liberty when they were accused of complicity +in the attempt made at the pavilion de la Chenaie. Their gratitude +to the young reporter on this account had been of the greatest, +and Rouletabille had been ever since the object of their devotion. +M. Stangerson replied to my exclamation by informing me that all +the servants had left the Glandier at the time that he himself had +abandoned it. As the Rances had need of concierges for the Fort of +Hercules, the Professor had been glad to send them his faithful +domestics, of whom he had never had reason to complain except for +one slight infraction of the game laws, which had turned out most +unfortunately for them. Now they were lodged in one of the towers of +the postern, where they kept the gate, and from which they admitted +those who entered and dismissed those who wished to go out of the fort. + +Rouletabille had not appeared in the least astonished when the butler +announced that Bernier wished to say a word to him, and from that fact, +I drew the conclusion that he must be already aware of his presence at +Rochers Rouges. So I discovered, without being very greatly surprised +at it, that Rouletabille had made excellent use of the few minutes +during which I believed him to be in his room, and which I had given up +to my toilet and to chatting with M. Darzac. + +The unexpected exit of Rouletabille sent a chill to my heart and seemed +to spread a general sensation of alarm throughout the company. Every +one of us who was in the secret asked himself whether this summons +had not something to do with some important event connected with the +return of Larsan. Mme. Darzac was very restless. And because Mathilde +showed herself to be disturbed and nervous, I fancied that M. Arthur +Rance thought that it behooved him to display some little anxiety. And +it may be as well to say at this point that M. Arthur Rance and his +wife were not aware of the whole of the unfortunate story of Professor +Stangerson’s daughter. It had seemed useless to inform them of the +fact of Mathilde’s secret marriage to Jean Roussel, afterward known +as Larsan. That was something which concerned only the family. But +they were fully aware--Arthur Rance from having been mixed up in the +Glandier business, and his wife from what he had told her--of the way +in which the Secret Service agent had pursued the young woman who was +now Mme. Darzac. The crimes of Larsan were explained in the eyes of +Arthur Rance by a mad passion for Mathilde, and this was by no means +surprising to the young American who had been for so long in love +with her himself, and who perceived in all of Larsan’s acts merely +the indications of an insane and hopeless love. As to Mme. Edith, I +soon found out why the events which had transpired at the Glandier +had not seemed so simple to her when they were related to her as they +had to her husband. For her to share his opinions on the subject, it +would have been necessary for her to have seen Mathilde with eyes +as enthusiastic as those of Arthur Rance, and, on the contrary, her +thoughts (which I had good opportunities to read without her suspecting +it) ran about in this way: “But what on earth is there about this woman +which could inspire such an insane passion, lasting for years and years +in the heart of any man! Here is a woman for whose sake a detective +officer becomes a murderer; for whom a temperate man becomes a +drunkard, and for whom an innocent man permits himself to be pronounced +guilty of a felony. What is there about her more than there is about +myself who owe my husband to the fact that she refused him before he +ever saw me? What is the charm about her? She isn’t even young. And yet +even now my husband forgets all about me while he is looking at her.” +That is what I read in Edith’s eyes as she watched her husband gazing +at Mathilde. Ah, those black eyes of the gentle, languid Mme. Edith! + +I am congratulating myself upon the explanations which I have made to +the reader. It is as well that he should know the sentiments which +dwelt in the heart of each one concerned at the moment when all were +about to have their own parts to play in the strange and awful drama +which was already drawing near in the shadow which enveloped the Fort +of Hercules. As yet, I have said nothing of Old Bob nor of Prince +Galitch, but, never fear, their turn will come! I have taken as a rule +in the narration of this affair to paint things and people as nearly as +possible as they appeared to me in the development of events. Thus the +reader will pass through all the phases of the tragedy as we ourselves +passed through them--anguish and peace, mysteries and their unraveling, +misunderstanding and comprehension. If the light breaks upon the mind +of the reader before the hour when it broke upon mine, so much the +better. As he will be conversant with the same circumstances, neither +more nor less, which came under our observation, he will prove to +himself if he solves the mystery before it is revealed to him, that he +possesses a brain worthy to rank with that of Rouletabille. + + * * * * * + +We finished our repast without our young friend having reappeared, and +we arose from the table without having mentioned to each other any of +the thoughts which troubled us. Mathilde immediately asked me where +I thought Rouletabille had gone. As she left the dining room, and I +walked with her as far as the entrance to the fort; M. Darzac and Mme. +Edith followed us. M. Stangerson had bidden us good-night. Arthur +Rance, who had disappeared for a moment, joined us while we were at the +passageway. The night was clear and the moon shone brightly. Someone +had lighted the lanterns in the archway, however, in spite of the fact +that their rays were not needed for seeing. As we passed beneath the +arch, we heard Rouletabille speaking, as though he were encouraging +those whom he addressed. + +“Come on! One more effort!” he cried, and the voice which answered him +was husky and panting, like that of a sailor who was working with his +fellows to bring his bark into port. Finally, a great tumult filled +our ears. It was the two portals of the immense iron doors, which were +being closed for the first time in more than an hundred years. + +Mme. Edith looked astonished at the act of her guest, and asked what +had happened to the gate, which had always served in place of the doors +since she had been mistress of the place. But Arthur Rance caught her +arm, and she seemed to understand that he was impressing upon her that +she must keep silence. But that did not keep her from exclaiming in a +not-too-well pleased tone: + +“Really! Anyone would think that we expected to undergo a siege!” + +But Rouletabille beckoned our group into the garden and announced to +us in a jesting tone that if any of us had any desire to make a trip +to the village, we must give it up for that evening, for the order +had gone forth and no one could leave the château or enter it. Pere +Jacques, he added, still pretending to jest, was charged with the +carrying out of the command, and everyone knew that it was impossible +to bribe the faithful old servitor. It was then that I learned for the +first time that Pere Jacques, whom I had known so well at the Glandier, +had accompanied Professor Stangerson on his visit and was acting as his +valet. That night he was sleeping in a tiny closet in “la Louve,” near +his master’s bed room, but Rouletabille had changed that, and it was +Pere Jacques who took the place of the concierges in the tower marked A. + +“But where are the Berniers?” cried Mme. Edith. + +“They are installed in the Square Tower, in the room on the left, near +the entrance; they are to act as caretakers of the Square Tower,” +replied Rouletabille. + +“But the Square Tower doesn’t need any caretakers!” exclaimed Edith, +whose vexation was plainly visible. + +“That, Madame,” returned the young reporter, “is what we cannot be sure +of.” + +He made no further explanations, but he took M. Arthur Rance to +one side and informed him that he ought to tell his wife about the +reappearance of Larsan. If there was to be the slightest chance of +hiding the truth from M. Stangerson, it could scarcely be accomplished +without the aid and intelligence of Mme. Edith. And, then, too, +it would be as well, henceforward, for all of those in the Fort +of Hercules to be prepared for everything, _and surprised at +nothing_! + +The next act of Rouletabille was to make us walk across the court and +place ourselves at the postern of the gardener. I have said that this +postern (H) commanded the entrance to the inner court; but at that +point the moat had been filled up a long time ago. Rouletabille, to our +amazement, declared that the next day he intended to have the moat dug +out and to replace the drawbridge. For the present, he busied himself +with ordering the postern to be closed more securely by the servants +of the château by means of a sort of fortification built from the +boards and bricks which had been used in the repairs of the château, +and which had not yet been taken away by the workmen. Thus the château +was barricaded and Rouletabille laughed softly to himself, for Mme. +Edith, having been apprised by her husband of the facts of the case, +made no further objection, but contented herself with smiling a little +contemptuously at the timidity of her guests, who were transforming the +old stronghold into an absolutely impenetrable spot, because they were +afraid of just one man--one man, all alone. But Mme. Edith did not know +what manner of man this was. She had not lived through the mysteries of +the yellow room. + +As to the others--Arthur Rance among them--they found it perfectly +natural and reasonable that Rouletabille should fortify the place +against that which was unknown and mysterious and invisible, and which +plotted in the night they knew not what against the Fort of Hercules. + +At the newly fortified postern, Rouletabille had stationed no one, for +he reserved that place that night for himself. From there he could +obtain a complete view of both the inner and outer courts. It was a +strategic point which commanded a view of the whole château. One could +reach the apartment of the Darzacs only after passing by Pere Jacques +in A; by Rouletabille at H, and by the Berniers, who guarded the Square +Tower at the door marked K. The young man had decided that it would be +better for those on guard not to retire that night. As we passed by the +“oubliette” in the Court of Charles the Bold, I saw by the light of +the moon that someone had displaced the circular board which covered +it. I saw also on the margin a flask attached to a cord. Rouletabille +explained to me that he had wished to know if this old oubliette (which +was really nothing but a well) corresponded with the sea, and that +he had found that the water was clear and sweet--a proof that it had +nothing to do with the Mediterranean. + +The young man walked for a few steps with Mme. Darzac, who immediately +took leave of us and entered the Square Tower. M. Darzac and Arthur +Rance, at the request of Rouletabille, remained with us. Some words of +excuse addressed to Mme. Edith made her understand that she was being +politely asked to retire, and she bade us good-night with a nonchalant +grace, flinging the words, “Good-night, M. le Captain,” at Rouletabille +over her shoulder as she passed him. + +When we were alone, we men, Rouletabille beckoned us toward the postern +into the little room of the gardener, a dark, low-ceiled apartment, +where we were surprised to find how easily we could see anything that +passed near by without being seen ourselves. There, Arthur Rance, +Robert Darzac, Rouletabille and myself, without even lighting a lamp, +held our first council of war. In truth, I know not what other name +to give to this reunion of frightened men, hidden behind the stones of +this old fortress. + +“We may make our plans here in tranquillity,” began Rouletabille. +“No one can hear us, and we shall not be surprised by anyone. If any +person should attempt to pass the first gate which Jacques is guarding +without the old man’s seeing him, we shall be immediately warned by the +sentinel whom I have stationed in the very middle of the court, hidden +in the ruins of the chapel. I have placed your gardener, Mattoni, at +that point, M. Rance. I believe from what I have been told that you can +depend upon the man. Is not that your opinion?” + +I listened to Rouletabille with admiration. Mme. Edith was right. He +had indeed constituted himself a captain, and he had not left one +impregnable spot without defense, and had neglected nothing in his +cogitations. I felt certain that he would never surrender, no matter +on what terms, and that he would prefer death to capitulation, either +for himself or for any of the rest of us. What a brave little commander +he was! And, indeed, it seemed to me that he displayed more bravery in +undertaking the defense of the Fort of Hercules against Larsan than the +Lords of Mortola had shown in holding the castle against a thousand +of the enemy. For they had fought merely against shot and shell and +spears. And what had we to fight against? The darkness. Where was our +enemy? Everywhere and nowhere. We were able neither to see him, nor +to know his whereabouts, nor to guess his designs, nor to take the +offensive ourselves, ignorant as we were of where our blows might fall. +There remained for us only to be on guard, to shut ourselves in, to +watch and to wait. + +M. Arthur Rance assured Rouletabille that he could answer for his +gardener, Mattoni, and our young man proceeded to explain to us in a +general fashion the situation. He lit his pipe, took three or four +puffs, and said: + +“Well, here we are. Can we hope that Larsan, after having so insolently +flaunted himself before us, at our very doors, in order to defy us, +will confine himself to such a platonic manifestation? Will he consider +that he has accomplished enough in bringing trouble, terror and +consternation among the members of the besieged party in the garrison? +And content with what he has done, will he go away? I hardly think so. +First, because such a thing would be foreign to his character--for he +loves a fight, and is never satisfied with a partial success; and, +secondly, because no one of us has the power to drive him off. Consider +that he can do anything that he will to injure us, but that we can make +no move against him save to defend ourselves if he strikes, provided we +are able when it may suit him to do so. We have, of course, no hope of +any help from outside. And he knows it well; that is what makes him so +bold and audacious. Whom can we call to our aid?” + +“The authorities,” suggested Arthur Rance. He spoke with some +hesitation, for he felt that if this plan had not been entertained by +Rouletabille, there must be some reason for it. + +The young reporter looked at his host with an air of pity, which was +not entirely free from reproach. And he said in a chilly tone, which +showed plainly to Arthur Rance how little value there was in his +proposition: + +“You ought to understand, Monsieur, that I did not save Larsan from +French justice at Versailles to deliver him over to Italian justice at +Rochers Rouges.” + +M. Arthur Rance, who was, as I have said, ignorant of the first +marriage of Professor Stangerson’s daughter, could not understand, +as did the rest of us, the impossibility of revealing the existence +of Larsan without stirring up (especially after the ceremony at St. +Nicolas du Chardonnet) the worst of scandals and the most dreadful +of catastrophes; but certain inexplicable incidents of the trial at +Versailles had impressed him sufficiently to make him realize that we +dreaded above all things to bring again to the public mind what someone +had called “The Mystery of Mlle. Stangerson.” + +He comprehended this on the evening of which I speak better than he had +ever done before, and knew that Larsan must hold one of those terrible +secrets on which life and honor depend, and with which the magistrates +of the world can have no concern. + +M. Rance bowed to M. Robert Darzac without uttering a word; but the +salute signified the declaration that M. Arthur Rance was ready to +combat for the cause of Mathilde, whatever it might be, as a noble +chevalier, who does not bother himself about the reason of the battle +in the moment when he dies for his lady. At least, I thus interpreted +his gesture, and I felt certain that, in spite of his recent marriage, +the American had by no means forgotten his old love. + +M. Darzac said: + +“This man must disappear, but in silence, whether we move him by our +entreaties, or bribe him or kill him. But the first condition of his +disappearance is to keep the fact that he has reappeared at all a +secret. Above all--and I am speaking of the heartfelt wish of Mme. +Darzac as well as my own--M. Stangerson must never know that we are +menaced by the blows of this monster.” + +“Mme. Darzac’s wishes are commands,” replied Rouletabille. “M. +Stangerson shall know nothing.” + +We went on to discuss the situation in regard to the servants and to +what one might expect from them. Happily, Pere Jacques and the Berniers +were already partly in the secret and would be astonished at nothing. +Mattoni was devoted enough to render unquestioning obedience to Mme. +Edith. The others did not count. Later there would be Walter, the +servant of Old Bob, but he had accompanied his master to Paris, and +would not return until he did. + +Rouletabille arose, exchanged through the window a signal with Bernier, +who was standing erect upon the threshold of the Square Tower. Then he +came back to us and sat down again. + +“Larsan probably is not far off,” he said. “During dinner I made a tour +of observation around the place. We possess at the North gate a natural +means of defense which is really marvellous, and which completely +replaces the old fortifications of the château. We have there fifty +paces away, at the western shore, the two frontier posts of the French +and Italian revenue officers, whose untiring vigilance may be of the +greatest assistance to us. Pere Bernier is on the most friendly terms +with these worthy people, and I am going with him to talk to them. The +Italian customs officer speaks only Italian, but the French officer +speaks both languages, as well as the patois of the country, and it is +this man, whom Bernier tells me is called Michael, to whom I look to be +of the greatest use to us. Through his means we have already learned +that the two revenue posts are much interested in the strange manœuvres +of the little boat, which belongs to Tullio, the fisherman, whom +they call ‘the hangman of the sea.’ Old Tullio is one of the former +acquaintances of the customs men. He is the most skillful smuggler +on the coast. He had with him this evening in his boat an individual +whom the revenue officers had never seen. The boat, Tullio and the +passenger, all disappeared at the Pointe de Garibaldi. I have been +there with Pere Bernier, and we found nothing, any more than M. Darzac, +who visited the spot before us. However, Larsan must have landed. * * * +I have a presentiment of the fact. In any case, I am sure that Tullio’s +little boat is anchored near the Pointe de Garibaldi.” + +“You are sure of that?” cried M. Darzac. + +“What reason have you for thinking so?” I demanded. + +“Bah!” exclaimed Rouletabille. “It left the marks of the keel in the +sand on the bank, and when they anchored, they let fall a little +lantern, which I picked up and which the revenue officers recognized as +the one used by Tullio when he fishes in the waters on calm nights.” + +“Larsan certainly landed!” repeated M. Darzac. “He is at Rochers +Rouges.” + +“In any case, if the boat has been left at Rochers Rouges, he has +not come back here,” exclaimed Rouletabille. “The two revenue posts +are situated upon the narrow road which leads from Rochers Rouges to +France, and are placed in such a manner that no one can pass by whether +by day or by night without being seen. You know besides that the Red +Rocks from which the village takes its name form a cul de sac, and +that a sentinel is on guard in front of these rocks every hundred +meters around the frontier. The sentinel passes between the rocks and +the sea. The rocks are steep and form a terrace sixty meters high.” + +“That is true,” said Arthur Rance, who had not recently spoken, and who +seemed greatly interested. “It is not easy to scale the rocks.” + +“He will have hidden himself in the grottoes,” said Darzac. “There are +some deep pockets in the terrace.” + +“I thought of that,” said Rouletabille. “And I went back alone to +Rochers Rouges, after I left Pere Bernier.” + +“That was very imprudent!” I said. + +“It was very prudent,” corrected Rouletabille. “I had some things to +say to Larsan which I did not wish a third party to hear. Well, I went +back to Rochers Rouges and called Larsan’s name through all the caves.” + +“You called him?” cried Arthur Rance. + +“Yes, I shouted into the gathering night; I waved my handkerchief as +the soldiers wave their flag of truce. But whether it was that he heard +me and saw my white flag or not, he did not answer.” + +“Perhaps he was not there,” I suggested. + +“Perhaps not: I don’t know. I heard a noise in the grotto.” + +“And you did not enter?” demanded Arthur Rance. + +“No,” replied Rouletabille, quietly. “But you do not think that it was +because I was afraid of him, do you?” + +“Let us run!” we all cried in one breath, rising at the same moment. +“Let us go and finish up the business immediately.” + +“I don’t think that we shall ever have a better chance of meeting +Larsan,” said Arthur Rance. “We can do what we like with him at the +bottom of Rochers Rouges.” + +Darzac and Arthur Rance were already starting off; I waited to see +what Rouletabille would say. He calmed the two men with a gesture, and +begged them to be seated again. + +“It is necessary to remember,” he said, “that Larsan would have acted +exactly as he has done if he had wished to lure us to-night to the +grotto of Rochers Rouges. He has shown himself to us; he has landed +almost under our eyes at the Point of Garibaldi; he might as well have +shouted under our windows, ‘You know I am at Rochers Rouges. I’ll +wait for you there.’ He would have been neither more explicit or more +eloquent.” + +“You went to Rochers Rouges,” resumed Arthur Rance, who I saw was +deeply impressed with the arguments of Rouletabille--“and he did not +show himself. He hid himself, meditating on some horrible crime to be +committed to-night. We must have him out of that grotto.” + +“Doubtless,” replied Rouletabille, “my promenade to Rochers Rouges +produced no result because I was all alone--but if we all go, I can +assure you that we shall find some results on our return.” + +“On our return?” echoed Darzac who did not understand. + +“Yes,” explained Rouletabille; “on our return to the château, where we +have left Mme. Darzac all alone--and where, perhaps, we may not find +her. Oh, of course,” he added, as a general silence fell upon his +companions, “it is only a hypothesis. But at this time we have no other +means of reasoning than by hypothesis.” + +We looked at each other and this hypothesis overwhelmed us. Evidently, +without Rouletabille, we should have committed a terrible blunder and +perhaps have been responsible for a terrible disaster. + +Rouletabille arose and continued, thoughtfully: + +“You see, to-night there is nothing that we can do except to barricade +ourselves. It is only a temporary barricade, for I want the place +put in an absolutely unassailable state to-morrow. I have had the +iron doors closed and Pere Jacques is guarding them. I have stationed +Mattoni as sentinel at the chapel. I have established a barrier under +the postern, the only vulnerable point of the inner court, and I will +guard that myself. Pere Bernier will watch all night at the door of the +Square Tower, and Mere Bernier, who has a good pair of eyes, and to +whom I have given a spyglass, will remain until morning on the platform +of the tower. Sainclair will station himself in the little palm leaf +pavilion upon the terrace of the Round Tower. From the height of this +terrace he will watch as I do all the inner court and the boulevards +and parapets. M. Rance and M. Darzac will go into the garden and walk +until daylight, the one toward the boulevard on the west, the other +toward the boulevard on the east--the two boulevards which are at the +edge of the outer court near the sea. The vigil will be hard to-night, +because we are not yet organized. To-morrow we shall draw up a set of +rules for our little garrison, and a list of the trustworthy domestics +upon whom we may depend with security. + +“If there is one on the place who could come under the slightest +suspicion, he must be dismissed at once. You will bring here to this +cell all the arms which you can gather--rifles and revolvers. We will +divide them among those who do guard duty. The sentinel is to draw upon +every person who does not reply to ‘Who goes there?’ and who is not +recognized. There is no need of a password, it would be useless. Let +the countersign be to utter one’s name and to show one’s face. Besides, +it is only ourselves who have the right to pass. Beginning to-morrow +morning I will have raised at the inner entrance of the North gate the +grating which until to-day formed its exterior entrance--the entrance +which is closed, henceforth, by the iron doors; and in the daytime the +commissaires can come as far as this grating with their provisions. +They will place their wares in the little lodge in the tower where I +have stationed Pere Jacques. At seven o’clock every night, the iron +doors will be closed. To-morrow morning M. Arthur Rance will send for +builders, masons and carpenters. Every person on the place will be +counted, and no one allowed, under any pretext, to pass the door of +the second court. Before seven o’clock in the evening everyone will be +counted again, and the workpeople will be allowed to go out. In this +one day the men must completely finish their work, which will consist +of making a door for my postern, repairing a small breach in the wall +which joins the New Castle to the Tower of Charles the Bold and another +little break near the Round Tower (B in the plan), which defends the +north-east corner of the outer court. After that, I shall be tranquil, +and Mme. Darzac, who is forbidden to leave the château under the new +order, having been placed in security, I may attempt a sortie and +enter seriously into the search for the camp of Larsan. Come, M. Rance, +to arms! Bring me some weapons to pass around this evening. I have +loaned my own revolver to Pere Bernier, who is keeping guard before the +door of Mme. Darzac’s apartments.” + +Anyone not knowing of the events at the Glandier who had heard the +words spoken by Rouletabille would have considered both him who spoke +and us who listened to be beside ourselves. But, I repeat, if anyone +had lived, like myself, through that terrible and mysterious time, he +would have done what I did--loaded his revolver and waited for dawn +without uttering a word. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + WHICH CONTAINS SOME PAGES FROM THE HISTORY OF JEAN ROUSSEL-LARSAN + BALLMEYER + + +An hour later, we were all at our posts, passing along the parapets +in the moonlight, keeping close watch upon the land, the sky and +the water, and listening anxiously to the slightest sounds of the +night--the sighing of the sea and the voices of the birds which began +to sing at about three o’clock in the morning. Mme. Edith, who said +that she could not sleep, came out and talked to Rouletabille at his +postern. The lad called me, placed me in charge of his postern and +of Mrs. Rance, and made his rounds. The fair Edith was in the most +charming humor. She looked as fresh as a rose washed in dew, and she +seemed to be greatly amused at the wan countenance of her husband, to +whom she had brought out a glass of whisky. + +“It’s the funniest thing I ever heard of,” she exclaimed, clapping her +tiny hands. “All of you keeping watch out here like this! How I wish I +knew your Larsan! I’m sure I should adore him!” + +I shuddered involuntarily at the words she uttered so lightly. Beyond +a doubt there do exist romantic little creatures who fear nothing, and +who in their carelessness jest at fate. Ah! if the unhappy girl had +only realized what was to come! + +I spent two delightful hours with Mme. Edith, during the greater +part of which I related to her some facts regarding the history of +Ballmeyer. And since this occasion presents itself, I will at this time +relate to the reader, in historical order--if I may use an expression +which perfectly interprets my meaning--the characteristics and +circumstances in the career of Larsan-Ballmeyer, some of which had been +sufficient to make it doubtful whether he still lived at the time that +he appeared to play so unexpected a part in “The Mystery of the Yellow +Room.” As this man’s powers will be seen to extend in “The Perfume of +the Lady in Black” to heights which some may believe inaccessible, I +judge it to be my duty to prepare the mind of the reader to admit in +the end that I am only the transcriber of an affair the like of which +never has been known before, and that I have invented nothing. And, +moreover, Rouletabille, in the event that I might have the hardihood to +add to such a wonderful and veracious history any rhetorical ornaments +or exaggerations, would certainly contradict me and riddle my story as +with bullets. The great interests at stake are such that the slightest +exaggeration would assuredly entail the most terrible consequences, so +that I shall keep strictly to the exact details of my narrative, even +at the risk of making it seem a little dry and methodical. I will refer +those who believe in actual records to the stenographic reports of the +trial at Versailles. M. Andre Hesse and M. Henri-Robert, who appeared +for M. Robert Darzac, made admirable addresses, to which the public +may easily obtain access. And it must not be forgotten that before +destiny had brought Larsan-Ballmeyer and Joseph Rouletabille into +contact, the elegantly mannered bandit had given considerable trouble +to the authorities. We have only to open the files of the _Gazette +les Tribuneaux_ and to read the account of the day when Larsan was +condemned by the Court of Assizes to ten years at hard labor, to be +assured on this score. Then, one will understand that there is no need +of inventing anything about a man concerning whom one can with truth +relate such a history: and thus the reader, knowing the sort of man +that he is--that is to say, his manner of working and his incredible +audacity--will refrain from smiling because Joseph Rouletabille placed +a drawbridge between Larsan-Ballmeyer and Mathilde Darzac. + + * * * * * + +M. Albert Bataille of _le Figaro_, who has published an admirable +work on “Criminal and Civil Causes,” has devoted some interesting pages +to Ballmeyer. + +Ballmeyer had a happy childhood and youth. He did not become a criminal +as so many others have done because driven to evil doing by the hard +blows of poverty and misery. The son of a rich broker in the Rue Molay, +he might have chosen any vocation that he desired, but his preferred +calling was to lay hands upon the money of other people. At an early +age, he decided to become a swindler, just as another lad might have +decided to become an engineer. His debut was a stroke of genius, and +the history of it is almost incredible. Ballmeyer stole a letter +addressed to his father containing a considerable sum of money. Then he +took the train for Lyons and from there wrote his parent as follows: + +“Monsieur, I am an old soldier, retired and with a medal of honor to +show that I have served my country. My son, a postoffice clerk, has +stolen in the mails a letter addressed to you and containing money, to +pay a gambling debt. I have called the members of the family together. +In a few days we shall be able to raise the sum necessary to repay you. +You are a father. Have pity upon a father. Do not bring me down in +sorrow and shame to my grave.” + +M. Ballmeyer willingly granted the petition. He is still waiting for +his first remittance--or, rather, he has ceased to expect it, for the +law apprised him ten years ago of the identity of the culprit. + +Ballmeyer, relates M. Albert Bataille, seems to have received from +nature all the gifts which go to make the successful swindler: a +wonderful diversity, the talent of persuading new acquaintances to +believe in him, the careful attention to the smallest details, the +genius for completely disguising himself (he even took the precaution +along this line of having his linen marked with different initials +every time that he judged it expedient to change his name). But his +strongest characteristic of all was his astonishing aptitude for +evasion--for coquetting with fraud, for mocking at and defying justice. +This was evinced in the malignant pleasure which he took in speaking of +himself at Parquet as among those who might have been guilty, knowing +how little importance would be attached by the magistrate by the clues +which he gave. + +This delight in jesting at the judges was apparent in every act of his +life. + +While he was doing military duty, Ballmeyer stole his companion’s box +and accused the captain. + +He committed a theft of forty thousand francs from the Maison Furet, +and immediately afterward denounced M. Furet as having stolen it +himself. + +The Furet affair remained for a long time celebrated among judicial +records under the appellation of “the coup of the telephone.” Science, +applied as an aid to knavery, has never given anything better. + +Ballmeyer appropriated a draft for six thousand livres sterling from +the messenger of Messrs. Furet, brothers, who were note brokers in the +Rue Poissoniere, and who allowed him desk room in their offices. + +He went to the Rue Poissoniere, into the house of M. Furet, and, +imitating the voice of M. Edouard Furet, asked over the telephone of +M. Cohen, a banker, whether he would be willing to discount the draft. +M. Cohen replied in the affirmative, and ten minutes later, Ballmeyer, +after having cut the telephone wire to prevent further communication +and possible explanations, sent for the money by a companion named +Rigaud, whom he had known not long before in the African battalion, +where their common interests had made them useful to each other. + +Ballmeyer kept the lion’s share for himself: then he rushed to the +court to denounce Rigaud, and, as I have said, M. Furet himself. + +A dramatic scene took place when accuser and accused were confronted +with each other in the cabinet of M. Espierre, the judge of instruction +who had charge of the affair. + +“You know, my dear Furet,” said Ballmeyer to the amazed broker, “I am +heart-broken at being obliged to expose you, but you must tell the +Justice the truth. It is not an affair from which you need fear serious +consequences. Why don’t you confess? You needed forty thousand francs +to pay a little debt incurred at the race track and you intended to pay +back the sum. It was you who telephoned?” + +“I! I!” stammered M. Edouard Furet, almost breathless with rage and +astonishment. + +“You may as well confess,” said Ballmeyer. “No one could mistake your +voice.” + +The bold thief was detected within eight days and was caught; and the +police furnished such a report upon him that M. Cruppi, then attorney +general, now Minister of Commerce, presented to M. Furet the most +humble excuses of the Department of Justice. Rigaud was also tried and +condemned to twenty years at hard labor. + +One might go on relating this kind of stories about Ballmeyer +indefinitely. At that time, before he had entered upon the darker and +more horrible pages of his career, he played a comedy--and what a +comedy! It may be as well to give in detail the history of one of his +escapes. Nothing could be more immensely comical than the adventure of +the prisoner composing a long memorial during his trial for the sole +purpose of hanging over the table of the judge, M. Villars, and of +turning over the papers in order to obtain a glimpse of the formula of +orders of discharge. + +When he was sent back to jail at Mazas, the fellow wrote a letter +signed “Villars,” in which, according to the prescribed formula, M. +Villars requested the superintendent of the prison to set the prisoner, +Ballmeyer, at liberty without delay. But he had no paper of the kind +used by the Judge for such matters. + +However, so small a thing as that scarcely embarrassed Ballmeyer. He +went back to the courthouse in the morning, hiding the letter in his +sleeve, protested his innocence and feigning great indignation and +anger. He picked up the seal that lay on the table and gesticulated +with it in expressing his wrath, and he knocked the inkstand over on +the blue trousers of his guard. While the poor fellow, surrounded by +the inmates of the court-room, who condoled with him on his ill luck, +was sadly sponging off his “Number One,” Ballmeyer profited by the +general diversion to apply a strong pressure of the stamp upon the +order of discharge, and then began loudly excusing himself to the +soldier. + +The trick succeeded. The thief made his way out amid the confusion, +and, negligently tossing the signed and sealed paper to the guards, +remarked carelessly: + +“What is M. Villars thinking of to order me to carry his papers? Does +he take me for his servant?” + +Then he went back to his seat. The guards picked up the paper, and one +of them carried it to the warden at Mazas, to whom it was addressed. +It was the order to set Ballmeyer at liberty without delay. The same +night, Ballmeyer was free. + +This was his second escape. Arrested for the Furet affair, he had +gotten away once by throwing pepper in the eyes of the guard who was +taking him to the station, and that same evening he was present in +evening dress at a first night at the Comedie Française. Prior to this, +at the time when he had been sentenced by court martial to five years’ +imprisonment because he had robbed his companion, he had made his way +out of the Cherche Midi by having one of his comrades forge an order of +release for him. A variation of the same plan had served him well once +more. + +But one would never finish if one tried to relate all the amazing +adventures of Ballmeyer. + +Known at various times as the Count de Maupas, Vicomte Drouet d’erion, +Comte de Motteville, Comte de Bonneville, and under many other aliases, +as an elegant man about town, setting the fashion, he frequented +the summer resorts and watering places--Biarritz, Aix les Bains, +Luchon, losing in play at the club as much as ten thousand francs in +one evening, surrounded by pretty women, who envied each other his +attentions--for this fellow was extremely popular with the fair sex. +In his regiment, he had made a conquest--happily platonic--of the +Colonel’s daughter. Do you know the type now? + +Well, it was with this man that Joseph Rouletabille was going to fight. + +I thought that morning that I had sufficiently informed Mme. Edith in +regard to the personality of the bandit. She listened so silently that +my attention was finally drawn to the fact that she had not uttered a +remark in some time, and, bending down, I saw that she was fast asleep. +This circumstance should not have given me a very good opinion of the +little creature. But, as I watched her sleeping face at my leisure, I +felt springing up in my soul feelings which I later endeavored in vain +to chase away from my mind. + +The night passed without any event. When the day dawned, I saluted +it with a deep sigh of relief. Nevertheless, Rouletabille did not +permit me to retire until eight o’clock in the morning, after he had +settled on how matters should go on through the day. He was already in +the midst of the workmen whom he had summoned, and who were laboring +actively in repairing the breaches of the tower B. The work was done so +expeditiously and so promptly that the strong château of Hercules was +soon sealed as hermetically close as it was possible for a building +to be. Seated on a big boulder in the bright sunlight, Rouletabille +began to draw upon his note book the plan which I have submitted to the +reader, and he said to me while I, worn out with my vigil, was making +absurd efforts to keep my eyes open: + +“You see, Sainclair, these people believe that I am fortifying the +place to defend myself. Well, that is merely a small part of the truth, +for I am fortifying the place because reason bids me do so. And, if I +close up the breaches, it is less in order that Larsan cannot get in +than for the sake of depriving my reason of any chance of accusing me +of carelessness. For instance, I can never reason in a forest. How will +you reason in a forest? There, reason flies away on every side. But in +a closed up château! My friend, it is like a sealed casket. If you are +inside and are not insane, your reasoning powers must come back to you.” + +“Yes, yes,” I murmured sleepily, nodding. “That’s it--your reason will +come back to you----” + +“Well, well, never mind!” answered Rouletabille. “Go to bed, old +fellow. You are walking in your sleep now.” + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + IN WHICH “OLD BOB” UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVES + + +When I heard a knock at my door about eleven o’clock in the morning and +the voice of Mere Bernier told me that Rouletabille wanted me to get +up, I threw my window wide open and looked out in delight. The bay was +of an incomparable beauty, and the sea was so transparent that the rays +of the sun pierced through it as they would have done through a mirror +without quicksilver, so that one could perceive the rocks, the anemones +and the moss in the sea bottom just as if the waters had ceased to +cover them and left them bared to the eye. The harmonious curve of the +bank on the Mentone side enclosed the sea like a flowery frame. The +villas of Garavan, white and rose, looked like fresh flowers which had +blossomed over night. The peninsula of Hercules was a bouquet which +floated upon the waters and perfumed the old stones of the château. + +Never had nature appeared to me more sweet, more delightful, more +exquisite, nor, above all, more worthy of being loved. The serene +air, the beautiful shore, the balmy sea, the purple mountains, all +this picture to which my Northern senses were so little accustomed, +evoked in my mind the thought of some tender, caressing human being. +As these thoughts passed through my mind, I noticed a man who was +lashing the sea. Oh! he gave it a box on the ear! I could have wept +if I had been a poet! The miserable wretch appeared to be furiously +angry. I could not understand what had excited his wrath in this +tranquil spot, but he evidently felt that he had some serious cause for +vexation, for he never ceased his blows. He was armed with an enormous +cudgel, and, standing erect in a tiny boat, into which a timid child +might have feared to entrust its weight, he administered to the sea, +with the fiercest splashings, such a castigation as provoked the mute +indignation of some strangers who were standing on the shore. But as +everyone under all circumstances dreads to mix himself in what is none +of his affairs, these persons made no protest. What was it that could +have so deeply excited the savage? Perhaps it might have been the very +calm of the sea which, after having been for a moment disturbed by the +insult of the madman, resumed its peaceful tranquillity. + +At this point, I was interrupted by the voice of Rouletabille, who told +me that breakfast was nearly ready. Rouletabille appeared in the garb +of a plasterer, his clothing showing plainly that he had been working +in the fresh mortar. In one hand he held a foot rule and in the other +a file. I asked him whether he had seen the man who was beating the +water, and he told me that it was Tullio who was frightening the fishes +to drive them into his nets. It was for this reason, I realized, that +Tullio had obtained the nickname of the “hangman of the sea.” + +Rouletabille went on to tell me that he had asked Tullio that morning +about the stranger whom he had rowed about in his boat the night +before, and whom he had taken all around the peninsula of Hercules. +Tullio had replied that he had no knowledge whatever of whom the man +might be; that he was a crazy sort of fellow whom he had taken in as a +passenger at Mentone, and who had given him five francs to land him at +the point of Rochers Rouges. + +I dressed myself quickly and joined Rouletabille, who told me that we +were to have a new guest at luncheon, in the person of “Old Bob.” We +waited for a few moments for him to come to the table, and then, as he +did not appear, we began our repast without him in the flowery frame of +the round terrace of Charles the Bold. + +There was served to us a delicious bouillabaisse, smoking hot, which +seemed to have drawn the best of their flavors from fishes of all +species, and was tinted by a little _vino del Paese_, and which, +in the light and brightness of the daytime, contributed as much as all +the precaution of Rouletabille toward making us feel serene and secure. +In truth, we felt not the slightest fear of the dreaded Larsan under +the beautiful sunshine of the brilliant heavens, whatever we may have +felt in the pale gleam of the moon and stars. Ah, how forgetful and +easily impressed human nature is! I am ashamed to say it, but we were +feeling rather proud (I speak for Arthur Rance and myself, and also +for Edith, whose romantic and languid nature was superficial, as such +are likely to be) of the fact that we could smile and speak with scorn +of our nocturnal vigils and of our armed guard upon the boulevards of +the citadel--when Old Bob made his appearance. And--let me say it; let +me say it here--it was not this apparition which could have turned our +thoughts toward anything dark or gloomy. I have rarely seen anything +more droll than Old Bob walking in the blinding sun of the springtime +in the Midi, with a tall hat of black beaver; his black trousers, his +black spectacles, his white hair and his rosy cheeks. Yes, yes, we sat +there and laughed in the tower of Charles the Bold. And Old Bob laughed +with us. For Old Bob was as gay as a child. + + * * * * * + +What was this old savant doing at the Château of Hercules? Perhaps this +is as good a time as any to explain. How could he have made up his +mind to quit his collections in America and his work and his drawings +and his museum in Philadelphia? For these reasons: The reader will not +have forgotten that M. Arthur Rance was already looked upon in his +own country as the anthropologist of the future at the time when his +unhappy infatuation for Mlle. Stangerson had weaned him away from his +studies and made them almost distasteful to him. After his marriage +to Miss Prescott, who was deeply interested in such matters, he felt +that he could resume with pleasure his researches in the science of +Gall and Lavater. But at the self-same time that they visited the azure +shores in the autumn which preceded the events of this history, there +was much discussion in regard to the new discoveries which M. Abbo had +just made at Rochers Rouges. MM. Julien, Riviere, Girardin, Delesot +had come to the spot to work, and had succeeded in interesting the +Institute and the Minister of Public Instruction in their discoveries. +These discoveries soon created a profound sensation, for they proved +beyond the shadow of a doubt that primeval man had lived in this spot +before the glacial epoch. Without doubt, the proof of the existence of +the man of the quarternary epoch had been found long before; but this +epoch, extending certainly two hundred thousand years into the past, +was interesting in that it fixed the quarternary epoch in the proper +period. Learned men were always digging at Rochers Rouges, and they +came upon surprise after surprise. However, the most beautiful of the +grottoes--the Barma Grande, as they called it in the country-side--had +remained intact, for it was the private property of M. Abbo, who kept +the “Restaurant of the Grotto” not far away on the sea shore. M. Abbo +was determined to dig in his own grotto himself. But now, public report +(for the event had passed the bounds of the scientific world and +interested people generally) said that in the Barma Grande there had +been found extraordinary human bones, skeletons remarkably preserved +by the ferruginous earth, contemporaneous with the mammoths of the +beginning of the quarternary epoch, or even of the end of the tertiary +epoch. + +Arthur Rance and his wife hastened to Mentone, and while the husband +passed his days in antiquarian researches, going back two hundred +thousand years, digging up with his own hands the humerus of the Barma +Grande and measuring the skulls of his ancestors, his young wife +seemed to experience an ever renewed pleasure in rambling over the +mediæval ruins of an old fortress which reared its massive silhouette +above a little peninsula, united to Rochers Rouges by a few crumbling +stones. The most romantic legends were attached to this relic of the +old Genoese wars; and it seemed to Edith, pensively leaning from the +highest terrace, in the most beautiful scene in the world, that she +was one of those noble demoiselles of ancient times, whose romantic +adventures she had so dearly loved to read in the pages of her favorite +romances. The castle was for sale and the price was very reasonable. +Arthur Rance purchased it, and by doing so made his wife the happiest +of women. She sent for masons and furnishers, and within three months +she had succeeded in transforming the old fortress into an exquisite +nest of love--an ideal abode for a young person who reveled in “The +Lady of the Lake,” or “The Bride of Lammermoor.” + +When Arthur Rance had found himself standing beside the last skeleton +discovered in the Barma Grande, and knew that the _elephus +antiquus_ had come out of the same bed of earth, he was beside +himself with enthusiasm, and his first impulse had been to telegraph +to Old Bob and tell him that it might be that someone had discovered, +a few kilometers from Monte Carlo, the relics which the old savant had +been seeking for so many years in the mountains of Patagonia. But the +telegram never reached its destination, for Old Bob, who had previously +promised to join his nephew and niece after they had been married for +awhile, had already taken the steamer for Europe. Evidently report +had already brought to him the story of the treasures of the Rochers +Rouges. A few days after the cable had been dispatched, he landed at +Marseilles and arrived at Mentone, where he became the companion of +Arthur Rance and his wife in the Château of Hercules, which his very +presence seemed to fill with life and gayety. + +The gayety of Old Bob appeared to us a little theatrical, but that +feeling arose without doubt from the effects of our apprehensions of +the evening before. The Old Bob had the soul of a child; he was as much +of a coquette as an old woman (that is to say, that his coquetries +frequently changed their object), and, having once for all adopted a +garb of the most severe--black coat, black waistcoat, black trousers, +white hair and rosy cheeks--there was constantly attached to him the +idea of complete harmony. It was in this professional uniform that Old +Bob had chased the tigers in the pampas and this he wore at the present +time while he dug in the grottoes of Rochers Rouges in his search for +the missing bone of the _elephus antiquus_. + +Mrs. Rance presented him to us, and he uttered a few polite phrases, +after which he opened his wide mouth in a great hearty laugh. He was +jubilant, and we were soon to learn the reason why. He had brought back +from his visit to the Museum of Paris the certainty that the skeleton +of the Barma Grande was no more ancient than the one which he had +discovered in his last expedition to Terra del Fuego. All the Institute +was of this opinion, and took for the basis of its reasonings the fact +that the bone of the spine of the _elephus_ which Old Bob had +carried to Paris, and which the owner of the Barma Grande had loaned +him after having declared to him that he had found it in the same bed +of earth as the famous skeleton--that this spinal bone belonged, let +us say, to an _elephus_ of the middle of the quarternary period. +Ah, it would have done your heart good to hear the joyous contempt with +which Old Bob spoke of the middle of the quarternary period. At the +very thought of a spinal bone of the middle of the quarternary period, +he laughed as heartily as though some one had told him the finest joke +in the world. Could it be that in this day and age, a savant, worthy +of being dignified by the name, could find anything to interest him in +a skeleton of the middle of the quarternary period! His own skeleton +(or, to be more exact, that which he had brought from Terra del Fuego) +dated from the commencement of this period, and, in consequence, was +older by two thousand years--you hear? _two thousand years--!_ And +he was sure, because of this shoulder blade having belonged to the cave +bear, the shoulder blade which he had found, he, Old Bob, between the +arms of his own skeleton. (He said “my own skeleton” in his enthusiasm, +making no distinction between the living skeleton which he was carrying +about under his black coat, his black trousers, his white hair and his +rosy cheeks, and the prehistoric skeleton of Terra del Fuego.) + +“Therefore, my skeleton dates from the cave. But that of +Baousse-Raousse! Oh, no, no, my children! at furthest from the epoch +of the mammoth, and yet--no--no--from the rhinoceros with the cloven +nostrils. Therefore--One has nothing left to discover, ladies and +gentlemen, in the period of the rhinoceros with the cleft nostrils.--I +swear it, upon the honor of Old Bob. My skeleton comes from the +chelleenne epoch, as you say in France. Well, what are you laughing at? +I am not even sure that the _elephus_ of Rochers Rouges dates from +the Mousterian epoch. And why not from the Silurian epoch--or yet--or +yet--from the Magdalenian epoch? No, no--that’s too much. An _elephus +antiquus_ from the Magdalenian epoch would be an impossibility. +That _elephus_ will drive me mad! Ah, I shall die of joy. Poor +Baousse-Raousse!” + +Mme. Edith had the unkindness to interrupt the jubilations of her +uncle by announcing to him that Prince Galitch, who had purchased the +Grotto of Romeo and Juliet at Rochers Rouges, must have made some +sensational discovery, for she had seen him, the very morning of Old +Bob’s departure for Paris, passing by the Fort of Hercules, carrying +under his arm a little box which he had touched as he went by, calling +out to her, “See, Mrs. Rance! I have found a treasure!” She said that +she had asked him what the treasure was, but he had walked on laughing, +with the remark that he would have a surprise for Old Bob on his +return. And later, she had heard that Prince Galitch had declared that +he had discovered “the oldest skull in the history of the human race.” + +Mrs. Rance had scarcely pronounced these last words when every vestige +of gayety fled from Old Bob’s face and manner. His eyes shot fire and +his voice was husky with passion as he exclaimed: + +“That is a lie--an infernal lie! The oldest skull in the history of the +human race is Old Bob’s skull--do you understand me?--it is Old Bob’s +skull.” + +And he shouted out: + +“Mattoni! Mattoni! Bring my trunk here at once!” + +Almost as soon as the words were spoken, we saw Mattoni crossing the +Court of Charles the Bold with Old Bob’s trunk on his shoulder. He +obeyed the professor to the letter, and carried the trunk through the +room and up to his master. Old Bob took his bunch of keys, got down on +his knees and opened the box. From this receptacle, which contained his +clothing and piles of clean linen, neatly folded, he took a hat box, +and from the hat box he drew out a skull, which he placed in the middle +of the table among our coffee cups. + +“The oldest skull in the history of humanity!” he echoed. “Here it is! +It is Old Bob’s skull! Look at it! Oh, I can tell you, Old Bob never +goes anywhere without his skull!” + +And he took up the frightful object and began to caress it, his eyes +sparkling and his thick lips parting once more in a broad smile. +If you will represent to yourself that Old Bob knew French only +imperfectly and pronounced it like English or Spanish (he spoke Spanish +like a native), you will see and hear the scene. Rouletabille and I +were unable longer to control ourselves, and nearly split our sides +with laughter--all the more, because Old Bob every few moments would +interrupt himself in the midst of a peal of merriment to demand of us +what was the object of our mirth. His wrath was almost as funny as +his mirth, and even Mme. Darzac could not refrain from laughter, for, +in truth, Old Bob, with his “oldest skull of the human race,” was a +droll sight to see. I must acknowledge, too, that a skull two hundred +thousand years old is not such an unpleasant sight as one might expect +it to be, especially when, like this one, it has all its teeth. + +Suddenly Old Bob grew serious. He lifted the skull in his right hand +and placed the forefinger of the left hand upon the forehead of his +ancestor. + +“When one looks at the skull from above, one notices very clearly a +pentagonal formation which is due to the notable development of the +parietal bumps and the jutting out of the shell of the occipitals. The +great breadth of the face comes from the exaggerated development of +the zygomatic proportions. While in the head of the troglodytes of the +Baousse-Raousse, what do we find?” + +I shall never know what it was that Old Bob found in the head of the +troglodytes, for I did not listen to him, _but I looked at him_. +And I had no further inclination for laughter. Old Bob seemed to +me terrifying, horrible, as false as the Father of Lies, with his +counterfeit gayety and his scientific jargon. My eyes remained fixed +upon him as if they were fascinated. It seemed to me that I could +see his hair move, just as a wig might do. One thought--the thought +of Larsan, which never left me completely, seemed to expand until it +filled my entire brain. I felt as if I must speak it out, when all at +once, I felt an arm locked in mine, and I saw Rouletabille looking at +me with an expression which I did not know how to read. + +“What is the matter, Sainclair?” whispered the lad, anxiously. + +“My friend,” I returned in a tone as low as his own. “I dare not tell +you; you would make sport of me.” + +He drew me away from the table and we walked toward the west boulevard. +After he had looked closely on every side and made sure that no one was +near us, he said: + +“No, Sainclair, no: I won’t make sport of you, for you are in the +right in seeing _him_ everywhere around us. If he were not there +a little while ago, he is perhaps there now. Ah, he is stronger than +the stones! He is stronger than anything else in the world. I fear him +less within than without. And I should be very glad if the stones which +I have called to my aid in hindering his entrance shall aid me to hold +him inside. For, Sainclair, _I feel that he is here_!” + +I pressed Rouletabille’s hand, for, strange as it may seem, I shared +the same impression--I felt that the eyes of Larsan were upon me--I +could hear him breathe. When and how this sensation had first come over +me, I was unable to say. But it seemed to me that it had come with the +appearance of Old Bob. + +I said to Rouletabille, scarcely daring to put into words what was in +my mind: + +“Old Bob?” + +He did not answer. At the end of a few moments, he said: + +“Hold your left hand in your right for five minutes and then ask +yourself: _‘Is it you, Larsan?’ And when you have replied to +yourself, do not feel too sure, for he may, perhaps, have lied to you, +and he may be in your own skin without your knowing it._” + +With these words, Rouletabille left me alone in the west boulevard. +It was there that Pere Jacques came to look for me. He brought me a +telegram. Before reading it, I congratulated him on his appearance, +for he showed no trace of the fact that, like all the rest of us, he +had passed a sleepless night; but he informed me that the pleasure he +experienced in seeing his “dear Mlle. Mathilde” happy had made him +ten years younger. Then he tried to obtain from me some information +in regard to the motives for the strange vigil of the night before, +and the reason for the events which had occurred at the château since +Rouletabille’s arrival and for the exceptional precautions which had +been taken to prevent the entrance of any stranger. He added that if +“that monster, Larsan,” were not dead, it would seem as if we dreaded +his return. I told him that this was not the moment for explanations +and reasoning, and that, as he was a worthy man, he ought, like all +other soldiers, to observe the rules without seeking to understand them +or to discuss them. He saluted me with a military gesture and started +off, shaking his head. The old man was evidently puzzled, and it did +not displease me at all that, since he had the watch of the North Gate, +he had thought of Larsan. He also had narrowly escaped being one of +Larsan’s victims; he had not forgotten the fact. It would make him a +better sentinel. + +I was not in much of a hurry to open the dispatch which Pere Jacques +had brought me, and in this I was wrong, for as soon as I cast my +eyes over the words which it contained, I realized that it was of the +deepest importance. My friend at Paris, whom I had requested to keep +an eye upon Brignolles, sent me word that the said Brignolles had left +Paris the evening before for the Midi. He had taken the 10:35 train. My +friend informed me that he had reason to believe that Brignolles had +taken a ticket for Nice. + +What should Brignolles be doing in Nice? That was the question which I +propounded to myself, and which I have since so often regretted that a +foolish impulse of self-esteem kept me from putting to Rouletabille. +The young reporter had made so much fun of me when I showed him the +first dispatch, which stated that Brignolles had not quitted Paris, +that I resolved to tell him nothing about the one which announced his +departure. Since Brignolles amounted to so little, in his opinion, I +would not bother him with Brignolles. And I kept Brignolles to myself, +all alone and so well, that when, assuming my most indifferent air, +I rejoined Rouletabille in the Court of Charles the Bold, I never +mentioned the subject. + +Rouletabille was ready to fasten down with bars of iron the heavy +circularly cut oak board which closed the opening to the “oubliette,” +and he showed me that even if the shaft communicated with the sea, it +would be impossible for anyone to succeed in an attempt to introduce +himself into the château by this means, for the reason that he could +not raise the board and would be driven to give up his plan. His +brow was dripping with perspiration, his arms were bared, his collar +thrown off, a heavy hammer was in his hand. It seemed to me that he was +devoting considerable time and energy to a comparatively simple task, +and, like a fool who does not see beyond the end of his own nose, I +could not refrain from telling him so. How could I have helped guessing +that the boy was voluntarily exerting himself beyond necessity, and +that he was delivering himself up to all sorts of physical fatigue in +order to efface the memory of the grief which filled his poor heart? +But no! I was only able to understand that, half an hour later, when I +came upon him lying beside the ruins of the chapel, murmuring in his +dreams the one word which betrayed the sorrow of his heart--“Mother.” +Rouletabille was dreaming of the Lady in Black! He dreamed, perhaps, +that her arms were around him as in days gone by, when he was a little +fellow and came into the school parlor, flushed and breathless with +running. I waited beside him for a moment, asking myself nervously +if I ought to leave him in there, or whether there was any danger +of anyone’s else passing by and discovering his secret. But, after +having relieved his overcharged heart with that one word, the lad left +nothing more to be heard except his heavy breathing. He was completely +exhausted. I believe that it was the first time that the boy had really +slept since we had come from Paris. + +I profited by his slumbers to leave the château without informing +anyone of my intention, and soon, my dispatch in my pocket, I took the +train for Nice. On the way, I chanced to read this item on the first +page of the _Petit Nicois_: “Professor Stangerson has arrived +at Garavan, where he will spend a few weeks with M. Arthur Rance, the +recent purchaser of the Fort of Hercules, who, aided by the beautiful +Mme. Arthur Rance, will dispense the most gracious hospitality to +his friends in this fine old mediæval stronghold. As we go to press, +we learn that Professor Stangerson’s daughter, whose marriage to M. +Robert Darzac has just taken place in Paris, has also arrived at the +Fort of Hercules with her husband, the brilliant young professor of la +Sorbonne. These new guests descend upon us from the North at the time +when strangers usually leave us. How wise they are! There is no more +beautiful springtime in the world than that of the ‘azure shore.’” + +At Nice, hidden behind the blinds of a buffet, I awaited the arrival +of the train from Paris, by which Brignolles was due to arrive. And +the next moment I saw him alighting from a car. Ah, how my heart beat, +for I knew that there must be some strange reason for this journey +of which he had not informed M. Darzac beforehand. And I knew that +the trip was a secret one, when I saw that Brignolles was trying to +avoid observation, was bending his head as he hurried along, gliding +rapidly as a pickpocket among the passengers, so that he was soon lost +to sight. But I was behind him. He jumped into a closed hack and I +hastily got into another closed just as tightly. At the Place Massena +he left his carriage and turned toward the Jetee Promenade, where he +took another cab. I still followed him. These manœuvres seemed to me +more and more ambiguous. Finally, Brignolles’ carriage came out upon +the road de la Corniche, and I directed my coachman to take the same +way. The numerous windings of this road, its accentuated curves, +permitted me to see without being seen. I had promised my coachman a +large tip if he helped me to keep in sight of my quarry, and he did his +very best. Finally, we reached the Beaulieu railway station, where I +was astonished to see Brignolles’ carriage stop and the man himself get +out, pay the driver and enter the waiting room. He was going to take +the train. For what purpose? If I should attempt to get into the same +car as he, would he not be certain to see me in this little station +or on the almost deserted platform? But I decided to try it anyway. +If he were to see me, I could get out of the difficulty by feigning +surprise at his presence, and by sticking to him until I was sure of +what he was going to do in this part of the world. But luck was with me +and Brignolles did not see me. He got into a passenger coach which was +bound for the Italian frontier. I realized that all his movements were +bringing him nearer to the Fort of Hercules. I got in the car behind +his and watched from my window all the travellers who got out at every +station. + +Brignolles did not get off until we reached Mentone. He certainly had +some reason for reaching there by a different train than the one from +Paris, and at an hour when there was little chance of his seeing any +acquaintances at the station. I saw him alight: he had turned up the +collar of his overcoat and pulled his hat down over his eyes. He cast +a stealthy glance around the quay, and then, as if reassured, mingled +with the other passengers. Once outside the trainshed, he got into a +shabby old stage coach which was standing by the sidewalk. I watched +him from the corner of the waiting room. What was he doing here? And +where was he going in that rackety old vehicle? I inquired of an +employé, who told me that that carriage was the stage to Sospel. + +Sospel is a picturesque little city lost between the last counterfores +of the Alps, two hours and a half from Mentone by coach. No railroad +passes through there. It is one of the most retired and quietest +corners of France, the most dreaded by revenue officers and by the +Alpine hunters. But the road which leads to it is one of the most +beautiful in the world, for, in order to reach Sospel, it is necessary +to wind through I do not know how many mountain passes, to climb +countless precipices, and to follow, until one reaches Castillon, the +deep and narrow valley of Carei, as wild as a field in Judæa, but +covered with luxuriant herbage, bright with beautiful flowers, fertile +and beautiful with the shimmering gold of its forests of olive trees, +which descend from the heights to the clear bed of the stream by the +terraces of a giant staircase formed by nature. I had been at Sospel +a few years previously with a party of English tourists in an immense +carriage, drawn by eight horses, and I had brought from the trip a +remembrance of vertigo which came over my mind in the future every time +the name was mentioned. Why was Brignolles going to Sospel? I must +find out. The diligence was crowded and had already started on its way +with a loud noise of creaking springs and of shaking window panes. I +hired a carriage from the station and in a few moments I, too, was +climbing over the rocks to the valley of Carei. How I regretted not +having spoken of my telegram to Rouletabille! The strange behavior of +Brignolles would have given him ideas, useful and reasonable, while, +for my part, I had not the slightest idea of how to reason. I only +knew how to follow this Brignolles as a dog follows his master or a +policeman follows his quarry by the clues which he finds. And yet, had +I followed them well, these clues? It was at the moment that I felt +certain that nothing in the world in regard to this man’s movements +could be small enough to escape me that I made a formidable discovery. +I had let the diligence keep a little way in advance, a precaution +which I deemed necessary, and I reached Castillon ten minutes later +than Brignolles. Castillon is at the highest point of the road between +Mentone and Sospel. My driver asked my permission to let his horse +rest for a moment, and while he watered the beast, I descended from +the carriage, and, at the entrance of a tunnel through which it was +necessary to pass to reach the opposite turn of the mountain, I beheld +Brignolles and Frederic Larsan! + +I stood staring at them, my feet as helpless as though they had taken +root in the soil. I could not utter a sound nor make a gesture. Upon my +honor, I was completely stupefied by the revelation. Then I recovered +my wits, and at the same time felt myself overwhelmed by a feeling +of horror for Brignolles, and by a feeling of admiration for my own +intuition in regard to him. Ah, I had known from the start! I had +been the only one to guess that the companionship of this devil of a +Brignolles had been of the gravest danger to Robert Darzac. If they +would have listened to me, the Professor of la Sorbonne would have +gotten rid of the creature’s presence long ago. Brignolles, the tool of +Larsan--the accomplice of Larsan!--what a discovery! Why, I had known +all along that those accidents in the laboratory had not happened by +chance! They would believe me now! I had seen with my own eyes Larsan +and Brignolles, talking and consulting together at the entrance of the +Castillon tunnel. I _had_ seen them--but where were they gone +now? For I saw them no longer. They must be in the tunnel. I hastened +my steps, leaving my coachman behind me, and reached the tunnel in a +few moments, drawing my revolver from my pocket. My state of mind was +beyond description. What would Rouletabille say when I told him all +about my adventure? It was I--I--who had discovered Brignolles and +Larsan. + +But where were they? I walked through the dark tunnel--no Larsan, no +Brignolles! I looked down the road which descends toward Sospel. Not a +living creature! But upon my left, toward ancient Castillon, it seemed +to me that I could perceive two forms that hastened. They disappeared. +I ran after them. I arrived at the ruins. I stopped. Who could say that +those two figures were not lying in wait for me behind a wall? + +The old Castillon was no longer inhabited, and for a good reason. It +had been entirely ruined--destroyed by the earthquake of 1887. Nothing +of it remained but a few piles of stone and a few mural windows, gently +covered with dust by time; some headless statues, a few isolated +pillars which remained standing upright, spared by the shock, and +leaning sorrowfully toward the earth, melancholy at having nothing +to support. What a silence there was all around me! With a thousand +precautions I searched through the ruins, contemplating with horror +the depth of the crevices which the earthquake of 1887 had opened in +the rocks. One of these in particular seemed to be a shaft without a +bottom, and as I leaned above it, hanging on to an olive tree to keep +from falling in, I was almost swept into the abyss by a gust of wind. +I felt the draught on my face and recoiled with a cry. An eagle darted +out of the abyss, quick as a flash. He rose straight to the sun, and +then I saw him descend toward me, and describe some menacing circles +above my head, uttering savage shrieks, as though he reproached me for +having come to trouble him in his realm of solitude and of death which +the elements had given him. + +Had I been the victim of an illusion? I could no longer see my two +shadows. Was I also the plaything of my imagination, when I stooped +and picked up from the road a bit of letter paper which looked to me +singularly like that which M. Robert Darzac used at la Sorbonne? + +Upon this bit of paper I deciphered two syllables which I believed +Brignolles had written. These syllables seemed to be the end of a word +the beginning of which was missing. All that it was possible to make +out was “bonnet.” + + * * * * * + +Two hours later I reëntered the Fort of Hercules and told my story +to Rouletabille, who placed the bit of paper in his portfolio and +entreated me to be as silent as the grave in regard to my expedition. + +Astonished at having produced so different an effect from the one which +I had anticipated at a discovery which I believed so important, I +stared at Rouletabille. He turned his head away, but not quickly enough +to hide from me that his eyes were filled with tears. + +“Rouletabille!” I exclaimed. + +But again, he motioned me not to speak. + +“Silence, Sainclair!” + +I took his hand; it was burning with fever. And I thought that this +agitation could not come entirely from his apprehensions in regard +to Larsan. I reproached him with concealing from me what had passed +between him and the Lady in Black, but, as often happened, he made me +no answer, and turned away, heaving a deep sigh. + +They had waited dinner for me. It was late. The dinner was a dismal +affair, in spite of the gayety of Old Bob. We scarcely attempted to +hide the deep anxiety which froze our hearts. One would have said that +each one of us was resigned to the blow which was threatening and that +we had lost hope that it might be averted. M. and Mme. Darzac ate +nothing. Mme. Edith kept looking at me with a strange expression. At +ten o’clock I went to take up my station at the tower of the gardener, +almost with relief. While I was in the little room where we had +consulted together the night before, the Lady in Black and Rouletabille +passed beneath the arch. The glimmer of the lantern fell on their +faces. Mme. Darzac appeared to me to be in a state of the greatest +excitement. She was urging Rouletabille to something which I could +not hear. The conversation between them looked like an argument and I +caught only one word of Rouletabille, “Thief!” + +The two entered the Court of the Bold. The Lady in Black stretched +her arm toward the young man, but he did not see it, for he left her +immediately and went toward his own room. She remained standing alone +for a moment in the court, leaning against the trunk of the eucalyptus +tree in an attitude of unutterable sadness, then, with slow steps, she +entered the Square Tower. + +It was now the tenth of April. The attack of the Square Tower occurred +on the night between the eleventh and twelfth. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + THE EVENTS OF THE ELEVENTH OF APRIL + + +This attack took place under circumstances so mysterious and so +inexplicable, to all appearances, under any reasonable hypothesis, that +the reader will permit me, in order to make him comprehend the issue +more fully, to dwell upon certain details in regard to the manner in +which we spent our time on the eleventh day of April, 1895. + + (1) _The Morning._ + +The day, almost from the rising of the sun, was intolerably hot and +the hours on guard were almost overpowering. The sun was as torrid as +in the heart of Africa and it would have blinded us to keep watch over +the waters which burned like a sheet of steel, brought to a white heat, +if we had not been furnished with eyeglasses of smoked glass, without +which it is difficult to pass the season of departing winter in this +part of the country. + +At nine o’clock, I came down from my room and went to the postern +and entered the room which we had styled “the hall of counsel” to +relieve Rouletabille of his guard. I had no time to say a single word +to him before M. Darzac appeared, following almost upon my heels, and +announcing that he had something very important to communicate to us. +We inquired anxiously the cause of his agitation and he replied that he +intended to quit the Fort of Hercules at once, taking his wife with +him. This declaration left Rouletabille and myself dumb with surprise. +I was the first to speak and endeavored to dissuade M. Darzac from even +thinking of such an imprudence. Rouletabille frigidly inquired the +reason for our friend’s sudden resolution and the latter replied by +informing us of a scene which had occurred during the previous evening +at the château and which revealed to us in how difficult a position the +Darzacs were placed by remaining at the Fort of Hercules. The story +may be summed up in a few words: Mme. Edith had had a nervous attack. +We understood the reason at once for there was no doubt in the mind of +either Rouletabille or myself that Mrs. Rance’s jealousy of Mme. Darzac +was increasing every hour and that each act of courtesy performed by +the husband toward the former object of his admiration was positively +insupportable to his wife. The sounds of the fit of hysterics to which +she had treated M. Rance and the words which she had spoken the night +before had penetrated even through the heavy walls of “la Louve,” and +M. Darzac, who was doing sentinel duty in the outer court, had been +unable to help hearing some of the echoes of the young woman’s anger. + +Rouletabille implored M. Darzac to endure the situation with fortitude, +unpleasant as were the circumstances. He assured him that he agreed +with his feeling that the stay of himself and Mme. Darzac at the Fort +of Hercules must be made as brief as possible; but he also assured him +that the security of both depended in great measure on their remaining +in their present quarters for the time being. A new struggle had been +begun between them on the one side and Larsan on the other. If they +were to go away Larsan would know on the moment how to overtake them +and in a time and place that they expected him the least. Here, they +were forewarned, they were upon their guard, for they _knew_. +Elsewhere, they would be at the mercy of everything and every person +that surrounded them, for they would not have the ramparts of the +Fort of Hercules to defend them. Certainly, this situation could not +endure very long, but Rouletabille asked M. Darzac to wait eight days +longer--not a single one more. “Eight days,” said Columbus long ago, +“and I will give you a new world.” “Give me eight days and I will +deliver Larsan into your hands,” was not what Rouletabille said, but it +was what we knew that he was thinking. + +M. Darzac left us, shaking his head, doubtfully. He was angrier than we +had ever seen him. Rouletabille remarked: + +“Mme. Darzac will not leave us and M. Darzac will stay if she does.” + +And he started off on his rounds. + +A few moments later, I caught sight of Mme. Edith. She was charmingly +dressed, with a simplicity which suited her marvellously. She smiled at +me coquettishly, but her gayety seemed a little forced as she jested +at my “new trade.” I answered her, perhaps a little too quickly, that +she was uncharitable in her jests, because she knew quite well that all +the trouble which we were taking and the careful watch which we were +maintaining might be the means, at any moment, of saving the sweetest +of women from untold misery and danger. + +She looked at me mockingly and cried with a sharp little laugh: + +“Oh, surely. ‘The Lady in Black!’ She has you all under her spell.” + +What a ringing laugh she had! At another time, rest assured, I would +not have allowed anyone to speak so lightly of “the Lady in Black,” but +this morning I had not the strength of mind to assert myself. On the +contrary, I laughed, too. + +“Perhaps, there is a little truth in that speech,” I returned. + +“My husband is crazy about her! I never would have believed that he +could be so romantic. But, then,” she went on, with a droll little +sigh, “I am romantic, too!” + +And she turned upon me that same curious look which had disturbed me +before. + +“Ah?” That was all that I could find to answer. + +“And, therefore,” she continued, “I take very great pleasure in the +conversation of Prince Galitch, who is more romantic than all the rest +of you put together.” + +Whereupon I asked her who was this Prince Galitch of whom I had +heard so much but had not yet seen. She told me that he was coming +to luncheon--that she had invited him on our accounts; and she gave +me a few particulars in regard to him from which I learned that +Prince Galitch was one of the richest landholders in his own part +of Russia--that portion called the “Black Lands,” fertile above all +others, and situated between the forests of the North and the steppes +of the Midi. + +Fallen heir, at the age of twenty, to one of the greatest of Muscovite +estates, he had increased his patrimony by economical and intelligent +management of which no one would have believed a man so young to be +capable--especially one who had heretofore had his hounds and his books +as his principal objects in life. He was called a hermit, a miser and +a poet. He had inherited, from his father a high position at court. +He was a chamberlain to His Majesty and, on account of the immense +services rendered by the parent, the Emperor was supposed to regard the +son with a great deal of affection. He was at once as gentle as a woman +and as strong as a Turk--in brief, a thorough Russian gentleman. + +I cannot tell why, but I felt a singular antipathy for the Prince +without ever having set eyes on him. + +His relations with the Rances were those of friendly neighborliness. +Having purchased two years before the magnificent property whose +hanging gardens, flowery terraces, and beautiful balconies had made it +known at Garavan as “the Garden of Babylon,” he had had the opportunity +to be of assistance to Edith when she had begun to make the outer court +of the Château of Hercules into an exotic garden. He had presented her +with certain plants which had revived, in some corners of the Fort of +Hercules, a tropical vegetation hitherto scarcely known except on the +banks of the Tigris and the Euphrates. M. Rance sometimes invited the +Prince to dinner, and always after one of these functions the Prince +would send to his hostess a wonderful palm tree from Nineveh or a +cactus, fabled to have belonged to Semiramis. He declared that they +cost him nothing. He had too many; he was tired of them and he did not +want them among his roses. Edith said that she was interested in the +young Russian because he dedicated such beautiful verses to her. After +he had repeated them in Russian, he would translate them into English +and he had even composed them in English for her and for her alone. +Verses--the verses of a real poet, dedicated to Mme. Edith! This had +so flattered her that she had requested the poet to compose English +verses for her and translate them into Russian. This “literary game” +greatly amused Mme. Edith, but Arthur Rance cared for it not at all. +The young anthropologist did not attempt to conceal that his feelings +toward Prince Galitch were not of the most friendly, and I felt assured +that the traits which the husband disliked most heartily were those +which the wife found most attractive in the Russian, for M. Rance had +no use for “verse writing fellows,” nor did he care for those who were +quite so prudent in their expenditures. He could not understand how a +poet could be something very like a miser. The Prince kept no carriage +nor motor car. He used the street cars and often did his own marketing, +attended by his servant, Ivan, who carried a basket for the provisions. +And--so said Mrs. Edith, who had heard these details from the cook--he +haggled over prices with the fishwife when there was only two sous +between what she asked and what he offered. Strangely enough, this +avariciousness did not seem in the least distasteful to Mme. Edith, who +appeared to consider it a mark of originality. And, she finished by +saying, “No one has ever set foot within his doors. He has never even +invited us to come and see his gardens.” + +“Isn’t it beautifully fascinating?” demanded the young woman when she +had completed her description. + +“Too beautifully fascinating!” I replied. “You will see!” + +I do not know why this answer should have displeased my hostess, but +I could see that it did so. Mme. Edith turned away and left me and I +finished my guard duty which was an hour and a half long. + +The first stroke of the luncheon bell sounded: I hurried to my room +to bathe my hands and face and make a hasty toilet and I mounted the +steps of “la Louve” rapidly fearing that I should be late; but I paused +in the vestibule, amazed to hear the sound of music. Who, under the +present circumstances, cared or dared to play a piano in the Fort of +Hercules? And, hark! Someone was singing. It was a voice at once soft +and sonorous singing a strange song which sounded now plaintive, now +threatening! I know the song now by heart; I have often heard it since. +Ah, reader, you, too, know it well, perhaps, if you have ever passed +the frontiers of chill Lithuania, if you have ever entered the vast +empires of the North. It is the song of the virgins who surround the +traveller as he sails and destroy him without pity; it is the song that +Sienkiewicz, one immortal day, made for Michel Vereszezaka. Listen. + + “_If you approach the Swiss lakes at the hour of nightfall, the face + turned toward the lake, the stars above your head, the stars beneath + your feet, and two moons shining before your eyes--you shall see this + plant that caresses the bank--the wives and daughters of the Swiss + whom God has changed into flowers. They balance their forms above the + abyss, their heads white like the moths; their leaves are green as the + needle of the maize tipped with gold._ + + “_Images of innocence during life, they have kept their virginal + robe after death; they live in the shadow and no blemish comes near + them; mortal hands dare not touch them._ + + “_The Tsar and his guard one day made the attempt when, after having + gathered the beautiful flowers, they wished to wreath their brows and + adorn their swords with them._ + + “_All those who had gathered the blossoms were smitten with great + ill or struck with sudden death._ + + “_When time would have effaced these things from the memory of the + people, the memory of the punishment is preserved, and in perpetuating + it, the flowers are still called the doom of the Tsars._ + + “_Thus saying the lady of the lake departed slowly; the lake opened + for her the most profound of its depths; but the eye seeks in vain for + the fair unknown whose face was born out of the mist and whose voice + the traveller never heard again._” + +These were the words, translated into our language, of the song which +was sung by the soft yet resonant voice while the piano played a weird +accompaniment. I opened the door and found myself face to face with a +young man who was standing. I heard the footsteps of Mme. Rance behind +me and the next moment she was introducing me to Prince Galitch. + +The Prince was of the type that one reads of in romances, “handsome, +pensive young man”; his clear cut and rather stern profile might have +given a somewhat severe expression to his face if his eyes, as mild and +clear as those of a child, and with an expression of perfect candor, +had not told an altogether different story. They were framed in long +black lashes so black that they almost looked as though they had been +touched with a pencil; and when one had noticed this peculiarity, one +realized why it was that his countenance looked so strange. His skin +was fresh and rosy, almost like that of a young girl. Such was my first +impression of him but I felt the prejudice which I had experienced +before I saw him rise up in my heart again. But it seemed to me, in +spite of this, that he was too young to be of any special importance. + +I could find nothing to say to this beautiful youth who chanted foreign +poems. Mme. Edith smiled at my embarrassment, took my arm (which gave +me great satisfaction) and led me away to walk in the perfumed gardens +of the outer court while we waited for the second bell for luncheon +which was to be served to us in the cabin of palm trees on the platform +of the Tower of the Bold. + + + (2) _The Luncheon and What Followed--A Contagious Terror Spreads + Through Our Midst._ + +At noon we seated ourselves at the table on the terrace of Charles the +Bold, the view from which was incomparable. The palm leaves covered us +with their grateful shade, for the heat of the earth and the heavens +was so intense that our eyes would not have been able to endure +the glare if we had not taken the precaution to put on the smoked +spectacles of which I have spoken before. + +Those of us at the table were M. Stangerson, Mathilde, Old Bob, M. +Darzac, M. Arthur Rance, Edith, Rouletabille, Prince Galitch and +myself. Rouletabille, turning his back to the sea, concerned himself +very little with his companions and had placed himself in such a +position that he could observe everything which transpired along +the entire length of the fort. The servants were at their posts. +Pere Jacques was at the entrance gate, Mattoni at the postern of the +gardener, and the Berniers in the Square Tower before the door of the +apartments occupied by M. and Mme. Darzac. + +The first part of the meal was rather silent. I looked at the others. +We were rather a solemn sight to contemplate around a table spread for +good cheer--mute, and turning upon each other our dark smoked glasses +behind which it was as impossible to see our eyes as to read our +thoughts. + +Prince Galitch was the first to make a remark. He spoke politely to +Rouletabille mentioning the fame which the young reporter had won. +This appeared to embarrass the lad a little and he made a confused and +rather ungracious reply. The Prince did not seem to feel rebuffed, but +went on to explain that he was particularly interested in the exploits +of my friend for the reason that, as a subject of the Tsar, he knew +that Rouletabille would shortly be sent to Russia. But the reporter +replied that nothing had yet been decided and that he would prefer to +say nothing on the subject until he had received his directions from +his paper; whereupon, the Prince astonished us by drawing a newspaper +from his pocket. It was a journal of his own country from which he +translated to us a few lines announcing the fact that Rouletabille +was soon to be in St. Petersburg. There was occurring in that city, +the Prince went on to read to us, a series of events so strange and +inexplicable in high governmental circles that, upon the advice of the +Chief of the Secret Service at Paris, the Superintendent of Police had +decided to ask the Epoch to lend him the young reporter. Prince Galitch +had presented the affair so vividly that Rouletabille blushed to the +roots of his hair as he replied dryly that he had never in the course +of his short life done detective work and that the Chief of the Secret +Service at Paris and the Superintendent of Police at St. Petersburg +were two idiots. The Prince showed his fine teeth in a hearty laugh +and it seemed to me that his laughter was not pleasant but cruel and +savage. He seemed to be of Rouletabille’s opinion in regard to the +Government officers, and, as if to prove the fact, he added: + +[Illustration: + +M. and Mme. Darzac. M. Rance. Rouletabille. Old Bob. +Professor Stangerson. Sainclair. Mrs. Rance. Prince Galitch. + +It made us nervous and restless to look at each other, seated around +the table, mute, leaning forward, wearing our black spectacles, behind +which it was as impossible to read our eyes as our thoughts.] + +“It sounds good to hear anyone talk like that, for now one expects +tasks of journalists which have nothing in the world to do with their +profession.” + +Rouletabille made no reply and the subject was abandoned. + +Mme. Edith arose from her chair, speaking ecstatically of the beauty +of nature. But, in her opinion, she declared, there was nothing more +beautiful anywhere near than the “Gardens of Babylon.” She added, +mischievously: “They seem so much more beautiful, because one may only +see them from a distance!” + +The attack was so direct that it seemed as though the Prince must reply +to it by an invitation. But he said nothing. Mme. Edith looked vexed +and a moment later, said suddenly: + +“I’m not going to deceive you any longer, Prince. I have seen your +gardens.” + +“Indeed! And how was that?” inquired Galitch, not losing his presence +of mind for an instant. + +“Yes, I have been there, and I’ll tell you all about it.” + +And she related while the Prince listened with an air of cold +imperturbability the story of her visit to the “Gardens of Babylon.” + +She had come upon them, inadvertently, from the rear, in climbing over +a hillock which separated the gardens from the mountains. She had +wandered from enchantment to enchantment, but without being in the +least astonished. When she had walked upon the seashore, she had seen +enough of the “Gardens of Babylon” to prepare her for the marvels, +the secrets of which she had so audaciously stolen. She had finally +reached the edge of a little pond, black as ink, upon the bank of which +she saw a great water lily and a little old woman with a long, peaked +chin. When they saw her the water lily and the little old woman had +fled away, the latter so light on her feet in running that she fairly +skimmed over the ground. Mme. Edith had laughed and had called after +her: + +“Madame! Madame!” + +But the little old woman had seemed only more terrified and had +disappeared with her lily behind the barberry hedge. Mme. Edith had +continued her stroll but not quite so carelessly. Suddenly she had +heard a rustle in the bushes and the strange cry which is made by wild +birds when, surprised by the hunter, they escape from the prison of +verdure in which they have hidden themselves. It was another little old +woman, still more shriveled and wrinkled than the first, but heavier of +build and who carried her cane like a battle axe. She vanished--that +is to say, Edith lost sight of her in a turn of the path. And a third +little old woman, leaning on two canes appeared a little further on +in the mysterious garden: she escaped behind the trunk of a giant +eucalyptus tree and she went so much the faster than she had done +before, by running on her hands and knees so rapidly that it was +amazing that she did not get all tangled up. Mme. Edith still went +on. And at last she came to the marble steps of the villa with their +climbing roses over head, but the three little old women were standing +guard on the highest step like three rooks on a branch and they opened +their threatening beaks from which escaped threatening sounds. It was +then Mme. Edith’s turn to flee. + +The little woman had related her adventure in a manner so charming and +with such grace, borrowed as it was from the fairy tales of childhood, +that I was enraptured and began to comprehend how certain women who +have nothing natural about them can supplant in the heart of men those +whose gifts are only those of nature. + +The Prince did not seem in the least embarrassed by the little history. +He said without a smile: + +“Those are my three fairy godmothers. They have never left me since the +hour of my birth. I can neither work nor live without them, I can only +leave them when they permit it and they watch over my verse making with +a fierce jealousy.” + +The Prince had scarcely ceased giving us this fantastic explanation of +the presence of the three old women in the “Gardens of Babylon” when +Walter, Old Bob’s man servant, brought a dispatch to Rouletabille. The +latter asked permission to open it and read aloud: + +“Return as soon as possible. We are waiting for you very anxiously. A +magnificent assignment at St. Petersburg.” + +This dispatch was signed by the Editor in chief of the Epoch. + +“Well, what do you say to that, M. Rouletabille?” demanded the Prince. +“Will you admit now that I was pretty well informed?” + +The Lady in Black could not repress a sigh. + +“I shall not go to St. Petersburg!” declared Rouletabille. + +“They will regret your decision at the Court,” said the Prince. “I am +certain of that, and, allow me to say, young man, that you are missing +a wonderful opportunity.” + +The term “young man” seemed extremely displeasing to Rouletabille, who +opened his lips as though to answer the Prince, but closed them again, +to my great surprise, without uttering a word. Galitch went on: + +“You would have found an adventure worthy of your skill. One may hope +for everything when one has been strong enough to unmask a Larsan!” + +The word fell into the midst of us like a bombshell and, as if by +a common impulse, we took refuge behind our smoked glasses. The +silence which followed was horrible. We sat as motionless as statues. +_Larsan!_ Why should this name which we ourselves had so often +pronounced within the last forty-eight hours and which represented a +danger with which we were commencing to almost feel familiar--why, I +say, should that name, spoken at that precise moment, have produced an +effect upon us, which, speaking for myself, was like nothing ever felt +before? It seemed to me as though I had been struck by a thunderbolt. +An indefinable terror glided through my body. I longed to flee but it +seemed to me that if I were to stand up my limbs would not be able to +support me. The unbroken silence on every hand contributed to increase +this indescribable state of hypnosis. Why did no one speak? Where had +old Bob’s gayety vanished? He had scarcely uttered a word during the +meal. And why did all the others sit so silent and so motionless behind +their dark glasses? All at once, I turned my head and looked behind me. +Then I understood, more by instinct than anything else, that I was the +object of a common psychical attraction. Someone was looking at me. Two +eyes were fixed upon me--_weighing_ upon me. I could not see the +eyes and I did not know from where the glance fixed upon me came, but +it was there. I knew it--and it was _his_ glance. But there was +no one behind me, nor at the right, nor the left, nor in front, except +the people who were seated at the table, motionless, behind their dark +glasses. And then--then I knew that Larsan’s eyes were glaring at me +from behind a pair of those glasses--ah! the dark glasses--the dark +glasses behind which were hidden Larsan’s eyes. + +And then, all at once, the sensation passed. The eyes, doubtless, were +turned away from me. I drew a long breath. Another sigh echoed my own. +Was it from the breast of Rouletabille--was it the Lady in Black, who +perhaps, had at the same time as myself endured the weight of those +piercing eyes? + +Old Bob spoke: + +“Prince, I do not believe that your last spinal bone goes any further +back than the middle of the quarternary period.” + +And all the black spectacles turned in his direction. + +Rouletabille arose and made a sign to me. I hastened to the council +room where he was waiting for me. As soon as I appeared, he closed the +door and whispered: + +“Well, did you feel it, too?” + +I felt smothered. I could scarcely articulate. + +“He was there--at that table--unless we are going mad.” + +There was a pause and then I resumed, more calmly: + +“You know, Rouletabille, that it is quite possible that we are going +mad. This phantasm of Larsan will land us all in a madhouse yet! We +have been shut up here only two days and see the state we are in!” + +Rouletabille interrupted me. + +“No, no; I felt him. He is there. I could have touched him! But +where--but when? Since I came into that room, I have known that it was +not necessary for me to go further. I will not fall into his trap. I +will not go and look for him outside the castle even though I have seen +him outside with my own eyes--even though you saw him with yours.” + +All in a moment he seemed to grow perfectly calm, passed his hand +across his eyebrows, lighted his pipe and said, as he had so often said +before, in happier hours when his reasoning powers, which were yet +ignorant of the ties which united him to the Lady in Black, were not +disturbed by the tumult of his heart: + +“Let us reason it out!” + +And he returned on the instant to that argument which had already +served us and which he repeated again and again to himself (in order +that, he said, he should not be lured away by the outer appearance +of things): “Do not look for Larsan in that place where he reveals +himself; seek for him everywhere else where he hides himself.” + +This he followed up with the supplementary argument: + +“He never shows himself where he seems to be except to prevent us from +seeing him where he really is.” + +And he resumed: + +“Ah! the outer appearance of things! Look here, Sainclair! There are +moments when, for the sake of reasoning clearly, I want to get rid of +my eyes! Let us get rid of our eyes, Sainclair, for five minutes--just +five minutes, and, perhaps, we shall see more clearly.” + +He seated himself, placed his pipe on the table, buried his face in his +hands and said: + +“Now, I have no eyes. Tell me, Sainclair--_who is within these +walls?_” + +“What do I see within these walls?” I echoed stupidly. + +“No, no! You have no eyes at all; you see nothing. Enumerate them +without seeing. Count them ALL.” + +“There is, first of all, you and I,” I said, understanding, at last, +what he wished to reach. + +“Very well.” + +“Neither you nor I,” I continued, “is Larsan.” + +“Why?” + +“Why?” I echoed. + +“Yes, why. Tell me. You must give a reason why you believe so. +I acknowledge that I am not Larsan; I am sure of that, for I am +Rouletabille; but, face to face with Rouletabille, tell me why you +cannot be Larsan?” + +“Because you saw him----” + +“Idiot!” exclaimed Rouletabille closing his eyes in with his clasped +hands more firmly than before. “I have no eyes. I can’t see anything! +If Jerry, the croupier at Monte Carlo, had not seen the Comte de Maupas +sit down at his table, he would have sworn that the man who picked +up the cards was Ballmeyer! If Noblet at the garrison had not found +himself face to face one evening at the Troyons, with a man whom he +recognized as the Vicomte Drouet d’Eslon, he would have sworn that +the man whom he came to arrest and whom he did not arrest because he +had _seen_ him, was Ballmeyer. If Inspector Giraud, who knew the +Comte de Motteville as well as you know me, had not _seen_ him one +afternoon at the race course at Longchamps, chatting with two of his +friends--had not _seen_, I say, the Comte de Motteville, he would +have arrested Ballmeyer. Ah, you see, Sainclair!” ejaculated the lad in +a voice shaken with sobs, “my father was born before I was! One will +have to be very strong and very shrewd to capture my father!” + +The words were uttered so despairingly that the little force of +reasoning I possessed vanished completely. I threw out my hands before +me, a gesture which Rouletabille did not see, for he saw nothing. + +“No--no! It isn’t necessary to _see_ any of them!” he repeated. +“Neither you, nor M. Stangerson, nor M. Darzac, nor Arthur Rance, nor +Old Bob, nor Prince Galitch. But we must know some good reason why each +of these cannot be Larsan. Only when that is accomplished shall I be +able to breathe freely behind these stone walls!” + +There was no freedom in my breathing. We could hear, under the arch of +the postern, the regular steps of Mattoni as he kept guard. + +“Well, how about the servants?” I asked, with an effort. “Mattoni and +the others?” + +“I am absolutely certain that none of them was absent from the Fort of +Hercules when Larsan appeared to Mme. Darzac and to M. Darzac at the +railway station at Bourg.” + +“Own up, Rouletabille!” I cried. “That you don’t trouble yourself about +them because none of their eyes were behind the black spectacles.” + +Rouletabille tapped the ground impatiently with his foot and said: + +“Be quiet, please, Sainclair. You make me more nervous than my mother.” + +This phrase, uttered in vexation, struck me strangely. I would have +questioned Rouletabille in regard to the state of mind of the Lady in +Black, but he resumed, meditatively: + +“First, Sainclair is not Larsan, because Sainclair was at Trepot with +me while Larsan was at Bourg. + +“Second: Professor Stangerson is not Larsan because he was on his way +from Dijon to Lyons while Larsan was at Bourg. As a fact, reaching +Lyons one minute before him, M. and Mme. Darzac saw him alight from the +train.” + +“But all the others, if it is necessary to prove that they were not at +Bourg at that moment, might be Larsan, for all of them might have been +at Bourg. + +“First M. Darzac was there. Arthur Rance was away from home during +the two days which preceded the arrival of the Professor and of M. +Darzac. He arrived at Mentone just in time to receive them (Mme. Edith +herself informed me in reply to a few careless questions of mine that +her husband had been absent those two days on business). Old Bob made +his journey to Paris. Prince Galitch was not seen at the grottoes nor +outside the Gardens of Babylon. + +“First, let us take M. Darzac.” + +“Rouletabille!” I cried. “That is a sacrilege.” + +“I know it.” + +“And it is a piece of the grossest stupidity.” + +“I know that, too. But why?” + +“Because,” I exclaimed, almost beside myself, “Larsan is a genius, +we are aware; he might be able to deceive a detective, a journalist, +a reporter, and even a Rouletabille--he might even deceive a friend, +under some circumstances, I admit. But he could never deceive a +daughter so far that she would take him for her father. That ought +to reassure you as to M. Stangerson. Nor would he deceive a woman to +the point of taking him for her betrothed. And, my friend, Mathilde +Stangerson knew M. Darzac and threw herself into his arms at the +railway station.” + +“And she knew Larsan, too!” added Rouletabille coldly. “Well, my dear +fellow, your reasons are powerful but as I do not know at present what +form the genius of my father has assumed as a disguise, I prefer rather +to bestow, for the sake of supposition, a personality on M. Robert +Darzac which I have never expected to fasten upon him, in order to base +my argument against the possibility a little more solidly: If Robert +Darzac were Larsan, Larsan would not have appeared on several occasions +to Mathilde Stangerson, for it is the apparition of Larsan that has +created a gulf between Mathilde Stangerson and Robert Darzac.” + +“Pshaw!” I cried. “Of what use are such vain reasonings when one has +only to open his eyes--open them, Rouletabille!” + +He opened them. + +“Upon whom?” he asked with a trace of bitterness in his voice. “Upon +Prince Galitch?” + +“Why not? Do you like him, this prince from the Black Lands who sings +Lithuanian folk songs?” + +“No,” replied Rouletabille. “But he entertains Mme. Edith.” + +And he smiled. I pressed his hand. He acted as though he had not felt +the touch, but I knew that he did. + +“Prince Galitch is a Nihilist and I am not troubled over him in the +least degree,” he said, tranquilly. + +“Are you sure of it? Who told you?” + +“Bernier’s wife, who knows one of the three old women whom Mrs. Edith +told about at luncheon. I have made an investigation. She is the mother +of one of the three men hanged at Kazan for the attempted assassination +of the Emperor. I have seen the photograph of the poor wretches. +The other two old women are the other two mothers. There’s nothing +interesting about that!” + +I could not refrain from a gesture of admiration. + +“Ah, you haven’t lost any time.” + +“Neither has _he_!” he muttered. + +I folded my arms. + +“And Old Bob?” I asked. + +“No, dear boy, no!” scoffed Rouletabille, almost angrily. “Not he, +either. You have noticed that he wears a wig, I suppose. Well, I assure +you that when my father wears a wig, it will fit him.” + +He spoke so mechanically that I rose to leave him, thinking he had no +more to say to me. He stopped me: + +“Wait a minute. We have said nothing of Arthur Rance.” + +“Oh, he has not changed at all since we were at Glandier,” I exclaimed. +“That is out of the question.” + +“Always the eyes! Take care of your eyes, Sainclair!” + +And he put his hand on my shoulder for a moment as I turned away. +Through my clothing I felt that his flesh was burning. He left the room +and I remained for a moment where I stood, lost in thought. In thought +of what? Of the fact that I had been wrong in saying that Arthur Rance +had not changed at all. For one thing, now, he wore a slight moustache, +something very rarely seen in an American of his type; next, his hair +had grown longer with a lock falling over the forehead. And again, I +had not seen him in two years--and everyone changes in two years--and +again, Arthur Rance, who had used to drink heavily, now tasted only +water. But then, there was Edith--what about Edith? Ah! was I going +insane, I, too? Why do I say, ‘I, too,’ like--like the Lady in Black; +like--like Rouletabille. Did I believe that Rouletabille’s brain was +becoming slightly turned? Ah, the Lady in Black had us all under her +spell. Because the Lady in Black lived in the perpetual fear of her +memories, here were we all trembling with the same horror as she. Fear +is as contagious as the cholera. + + + (3) _How I Spent My Afternoon up to Five O’clock._ + +I profited by the fact that I was not on guard to go to my room for +a little rest; but I slept badly and dreamed that Old Bob, M. Rance +and Mme. Edith had formed themselves into a band of brigands who had +sworn death to Rouletabille and myself. And when I awakened under this +pleasant impression and saw the old towers and the old château with +their menacing walls rising before me, I came near thinking that my +nightmare was real and I said to myself half aloud: “It’s a fine place +in which we have taken refuge!” I put my head out of the window. Mrs. +Edith was walking in the Court of the Bold, chatting carelessly with +Rouletabille and twisting the stem of a beautiful rose between her +pretty fingers. I went down immediately. But when I reached the court, +I found no one there. I followed Rouletabille whom I saw on his way to +make his inspection of the Square Tower. + +I found him quite calm and entirely master of himself--and also, +entirely the master of his eyes, which were not closed now but open +wide and keenly on the watch for anything that might turn up. Ah, it +was worth while to see the manner in which he looked at everything +around him! Nothing escaped him. And the Square Tower, the abode of the +Lady in Black, was the object of his constant surveillance. + +And at this point, it seems to me opportune, a few hours before the +moment at which that most mysterious attack occurred, to present to +the reader the interior plan of the inhabited story of the Square +Tower--the story which was on a level with the Court of Charles the +Bold. + +When one entered the Square Tower by the only door (K) one found +himself in a large corridor which had previously formed a part of the +guard room. The guard room had formerly taken up all the space at O, +O′, O″ and O‴ and was shut in by walls of stone which still existed +with their doors opening upon the other rooms of the Old Castle. It +was Mrs. Arthur Rance who in this guard room had had wooden partitions +raised to make quite a large room which she wished to use for a +bathroom. This room, also, was now surrounded by the two passages at +right angles to each other. The door of the room which served as the +lodge of the Berniers was situated at S. It was necessary to pass +in front of this door to reach R, where was the only door affording +admission to the apartment of the Darzacs. One or other of the Berniers +was always in the lodge. And no one save themselves had a right to +enter it. From this lodge one could easily see from a little window at +Y, the door V which opened off the suite of Old Bob. When M. and Mme. +Darzac were not in their apartment, the only key which opened the door +R was in the keeping of the Berniers; and it was a special kind of key +made purposely for the room within the last twenty-four hours in a +place which no one but Rouletabille knew. The young reporter had let no +one into the secret. + +Rouletabille would have wished that the watch which he had had placed +upon the rooms of the Darzacs might have been kept also upon those of +Old Bob, but the latter had opposed such an idea with an earnestness +so comical that it was necessary to abandon it. Old Bob swore that he +would not be treated like a prisoner and he said that on no account +would he give up the privilege of going and coming to his own rooms +when he saw fit without asking the keys from the lodge-keepers. His +door must remain unlocked so that he might go as many times as he liked +to his rooms, whether it might be to his bed chamber or to his sitting +room in the Tower of Charles the Bold, without disturbing or worrying +himself or any one else. On account of his insistence, it was necessary +to leave the door at K open. He demanded it and Mme. Edith upheld her +uncle in so intense a manner and spoke so pertly to Rouletabille that +he knew she was seeking to convey the idea that she believed that +Rouletabille was treating Old Bob with discourtesy at the instigation +of Professor Stangerson’s daughter. So he had not insisted on what he +believed to be best. Mme. Edith had said with her lips pressed together +in a narrow little line: “But, M. Rouletabille, my uncle doesn’t think +that anyone is coming to carry _him_ away!” And Rouletabille had +realized that there was nothing for him to do save to laugh with the +Old Bob over this absurd idea that one could be trying to steal as +they would a pretty woman, the man who had the oldest skull in the +world. And so he had laughed--had laughed even louder than Old Bob, +but had imposed the condition that the door at K should be locked +with a key after 10 o’clock at night and that the key should be left +in the keeping of the Berniers, who would come and open it whenever +anyone desired. Even this was against the inclination of Old Bob, who +sometimes worked very late in the Tower of Charles the Bold. But, +nevertheless, he declared, he would submit to it for he did not wish +to have the appearance of opposing the worthy M. Rouletabille, who had +told him that he was afraid of robbers. For, be it said in exculpation +of Old Bob, that, if he lent himself so ungraciously to the defensive +plans of our young friend it was because it had not been judged +expedient to inform him in regard to the resurrection of Larsan. He +had, of course, heard of the extraordinary series of fatalities which +had formerly occurred in the history of poor Mlle. Stangerson; but he +was a thousand miles from doubting that all her troubles had ceased +long before she had become Mme. Darzac. And then, too, Old Bob was an +egoist, like nearly all savants. Happy because he possessed the oldest +skull in the history of the human race, he could not conceive that the +whole world did not revolve around his treasure. + + * * * * * + +Rouletabille, after having politely inquired after the health of Mere +Bernier, who was gathering up potatoes and putting them in a bag at her +side, requested Pere Bernier to open the door of the Darzacs’ room for +us. + +This was the first time that I had entered the apartment. The +atmosphere was almost freezing, and the whole place seemed to me +cold and sombre. The room, very large, was furnished with extreme +simplicity, containing an oak bed, and a toilet table which was placed +at one of the two openings in the wall around which there had formerly +been loopholes. So thick was the wall and so large the opening that +this embrasure (J) formed a kind of little room beside the big one and +of this M. Darzac had made his dressing closet. The second window (J′) +was smaller. The two windows were fitted with bars of iron between +which one could scarcely pass one’s arm. The high bedstead had its back +to the outer wall and had been drawn up against the partition of stone +which separated M. Darzac’s apartment from that of his wife. Opposite +in the angle of the tower was a panel. In the centre of the room +was a reading table on which were some scientific books and writing +materials. And there was an easy chair and three straight-backed +chairs. That was all. It would have been absolutely impossible for +anyone to hide in this chamber, unless, of course, behind the panel. +And then, too, Pere and Mere Bernier had received orders to look every +time they visited the room both behind the panel and in the closet +where M. Darzac hung his clothes, and Rouletabille himself, who, during +the absence of the Darzacs often came to cast his eye around this room, +never neglected to search it thoroughly. + +[Illustration: The Plan of the Inhabited Floor of the Square Tower.] + +He did so now, as I stood there. When we at length passed into the +sleeping room of Mme. Darzac, we were absolutely certain that we had +left nothing behind us of which we did not know. As soon as we entered +the room, Bernier, who had followed us, had taken care, as he always +did, to draw the bolt which closed from the inside the only door by +which the apartment communicated with the corridor. + +Mme. Darzac’s room was smaller than that of her husband. But it was +bright and well lighted from the way that the windows were placed. As +soon as we set foot over the threshold, I saw Rouletabille turn pale +and he turned to me and said: + +“Sainclair, do you perceive the perfume of the Lady in Black?” + +I did not. I perceived nothing at all. The window, barred, like all the +others which looked out on the sea, was wide open and a light breeze +rustled the hangings which had been drawn in front of a set of hooks +for gowns which had been placed in one corner. The other corner was +occupied by the bed. The hooks were placed so high that the gowns and +peignoir which they held were covered by the hangings in front scarcely +more than half way down, so that it would have been entirely out of +the question for any person to conceal himself there without leaving +his legs exposed to view from the knees to the feet. Nor would anyone +have been able to hide in the corner where the portmanteaux and trunks +were placed, although, nevertheless, Rouletabille examined it with the +greatest care. There was no panel in this room. Toilet table, bureau, +an easy chair, two other chairs, and the four walls between which there +was no one but ourselves, as we could have sworn by all that we held +most sacred. + +Rouletabille, after having looked under the bed, gave the signal for +departure and motioned us from the room. He lingered for a moment, +but no longer. Bernier locked the door with the tiny key which he +put in his inside pocket and tightly buttoned his coat over it. We +made the tour of the corridors and also that of Old Bob’s apartment +which consisted of a bedroom and sitting room as easy to examine and +as incapable of hiding anyone as those of the Darzacs. No one was in +the suite, which was furnished rather carelessly, the chief article +noticeable being an almost empty book case with the doors standing +open. When we left the room Mere Bernier brought up her chair and +placed it on the threshold where she could see clearly and still go on +with her work, which seemed to be always that of paring potatoes. + +We entered the rooms occupied by the Berniers and found them like all +the others. The other stories were inhabited and communicated with the +ground floor by a little inner stairway which began at the angle O′ +and ascended to the summit of the tower. A trap door in the ceiling +of the Berniers’ room closed this stairway. Rouletabille asked for a +hammer and nails and nailed up the trap door, thus making the stairway +unusable. + +One might say, in short and in fact, that nothing escaped Rouletabille +and that when we had made the rounds of the Square Tower we had left no +one behind us save M. and Mme. Bernier. One would have said, too, that +there could have been no human being in the apartment of the Darzacs +before Bernier, a few minutes later, opened the door to M. Darzac +himself as I am now about to relate. + + * * * * * + +It was about five minutes before five o’clock when, leaving Bernier in +his corridor in front of the door of the Darzacs’ room, Rouletabille +and myself found ourselves again in the Court of the Bold. + +At that moment we climbed to the platform of the ancient tower at +B″. We seated ourselves upon the parapet, our eyes looking down to +the ground, attracted by the echoes of the Rochers Rouges. At that +moment, we noticed upon the edge of the Barma Grande which opened its +mysterious mouth in the flaming face of Baousse-Raousse, the disturbed +and wrathful countenance of Old Bob. His shadow was the only dark thing +about. The red cliffs rose from the waters with such a vivid radiance +that one might have readily believed that they were still glowing +with the same fires which are found in the interior of the earth. By +what a prodigious anachronism it was that this modern scholar with +his coat and hat in the height of fashion should be moving about, +grotesque and ghoulish, in front of this cavern three hundred thousand +years old formed by the ardent lava to serve as the first roof for +the first family in the first days of the world! Why this sinister +gravedigger in this beautiful corner of the earth? We could see him +brandishing his skull as he had done at the table and we could hear +him laugh--laugh--laugh! Ah, his laughter made us ill even to think of +it! It tore our ears and our hearts. + +From Old Bob our attention was drawn to M. Darzac, who was coming +through the postern of the gardener and crossing the Court of the +Bold. He did not see us. Ah, he was not laughing! Rouletabille felt +the deepest pity for him for he saw that he was at the end of his +endurance. In the afternoon he had said to my friend, who now repeated +the words to me: “Eight days is too much! I do not believe that I can +bear this torment for eight days!” + +“And where would you go?” Rouletabille had asked him. + +“To Rome,” he had replied. Evidently Professor Stangerson’s daughter +would accompany him nowhere else and Rouletabille believed that it was +the idea that the Pope could arrange the affair which was driving him +wild with grief that had put the journey to Rome into the mind of poor +M. Darzac. Poor, poor M. Darzac! No, in truth, his face wore no smile. + +We followed him with our eyes to the door of the Square Tower. We could +see from his looks that he could endure no more. His head was moodily +bent toward the ground; his hands were in his pockets. He had the air +of a man fatigued and disgusted with the whole world. Yes, with his +hands buried in his pockets, he looked out of humor with everything. +But, patience! he will take his hands out of his pockets and one will +not smile at him always. I confess that I smiled. Well, M. Darzac a +little after this gave me cause to experience the most frightful thrill +of terror which could freeze human bones! And I did not smile then. + +M. Darzac went straight to the Square Tower, where, of course, he found +Bernier, who opened the door for him. As Bernier had been keeping +constant guard before the door of the room, as he had kept the key in +his pocket and as we had proven by our investigation that the place was +empty when we had left it, we had established the fact that _when M. +Darzac entered his room, there could be no one else there_. And this +is the truth. + +Everything that I have said could have been sworn to “after” by each +one of us. If I tell it to you “before,” it is that I am haunted by the +mystery which lurks in the shadow and makes ready to reveal itself. + +At the moment that we saw M. Darzac go to his room, we heard a clock +strike five. + + + (4) _What Happened from Five O’clock that Night Until the Moment + When the Attack on the Square Tower Began._ + +Rouletabille and I remained chatting, or, rather, trying to reason +things out, upon the platform of the Tower B for another hour. +Suddenly, my friend struck me a little tap on the shoulder and +exclaimed, “For my part, I think--” and then, without completing the +sentence, he started for the Square Tower. I followed him. + +I was a thousand miles from guessing what he thought. He thought of +Mere Bernier’s bag of potatoes which he emptied out on the white floor +of the room to the great amazement of the good woman; then, satisfied +with this act which evidently corresponded to the state of his mind, he +returned with me to the Court of the Bold, while, behind us, we could +hear Pere Bernier laughing as he picked up the potatoes. + +As we reached the court we saw the face of Mme. Darzac appearing for a +moment at the window of the room occupied by her father on the first +story of “la Louve.” + +The heat had become insupportable. We were threatened with a violent +storm and we believed that it would begin to lighten immediately. + +Ah, how much the storm would relieve us, we thought. The sea had a +thick and heavy quietude as though it had been saturated with oil. +The sea was heavy and the air was heavy and our hearts were heavy. No +one or nothing on the earth or in the heavens was lighter than Old +Bob, whose form had appeared again at the edge of the Barma Grande +and who was still moving around agitatedly. One would have said that +he was dancing. No, he was making a speech! To whom? We leaned over +the railing to see. There was apparently some one upon the strand to +whom Old Bob was addressing some long-winded scientific discourse. But +the palm leaves hid his auditor from us. Finally, the listener moved +and advanced, and approached the “black professor,” as Rouletabille +called him. And we saw that Old Bob’s congregation was composed of two +persons. One was Mme. Edith--we could easily recognize her with her +languishing graces, clinging like a vine to her husband’s arm. To her +husband’s arm! But this was not her husband? Who, then, was the young +man upon whom Mme. Edith was playing off so many pretty airs? + +Rouletabille turned around, looking for someone of whom to make +inquiries--either Mattoni or Bernier. We saw Bernier upon the +threshold of the door of the Square Tower and Rouletabille beckoned +him. Bernier approached and his eye followed the direction indicated by +Rouletabille’s finger. + +“Who is that with Mme. Rance?” asked the young reporter. + +“The young man?” responded Bernier without hesitation. “That is Prince +Galitch.” + +Rouletabille and I looked at each other. It is true that we had never +seen Prince Galitch walking at a distance, but I would not have +imagined that his manner of walking would be like this, and he had not +seemed to me to be so tall. Rouletabille understood my thoughts, I +knew. He shrugged his shoulders. + +“All right,” he said to Bernier. “Thanks.” + +And we continued to gaze at Mme. Edith and her Prince. + +“I can only say one thing,” said Bernier as he turned to leave us. +“And that is that I don’t care for this prince at all. He is too soft +spoken and too blonde and his eyes are too blue. They say that he is a +Russian. That may be, but there are some who leave the country because +they have to. But he comes and goes in a strange fashion and takes no +leave beforehand. The time before the last that he was invited here +to luncheon Madame and Monsieur waited and waited for him and dared +not begin without him. Well, after an hour or two they received a +wire, begging them to excuse him because he had missed the train. The +dispatch was sent from Moscow.” + +And Bernier, chuckling, returned to his vantage post. + +Our eyes remained fixed upon the beach. Mme. Edith and her prince +continued their stroll toward the grotto of Romeo and Juliet; Old Bob +suddenly ceased to gesticulate, descended from the Barma Grande and +came toward the château, entered the gate, crossed the outer court, +and we saw, even from the height of the platform of the tower, that he +had ceased to smile. Old Bob’s face had become sadness itself. He was +silent. He passed beneath the arch of the postern. We called him, he +did not seem to hear us. He carried before him in the crook of his arm +his “oldest skull in the world,” and all at once we saw him fly into +the fiercest of passions. He addressed the worst of insults to the +skull. He descended into the Round Tower and we heard the mutterings +of his wrath for moments after he was out of sight. Then heavy blows +resounded. One would have said that he was hurling himself against the +wall. + +At this moment six strokes resounded from the old clock of the New +Castle. And at almost the same instant a clap of thunder echoed over +the sea. And the line of the horizon grew black. + +Then a groom of the stables, Walter, a brave, stupid fellow who was +incapable of a single idea, but who had shown for years past the +blind devotion of a brute toward his master, Old Bob, passed under +the postern of the gardener, entered into the Court of Charles the +Bold, and came to us. He held in his hand a letter which he gave to +Rouletabille. He handed me another and continued on his way toward the +Square Tower. + +Rouletabille, calling after him, inquired what errand was taking him to +the Square Tower. He answered that he was taking the mail for M. and +Mme. Darzac to Pere Bernier. He spoke in English for Walter understood +no other language; but we spoke it well enough to understand him and +make him understand. Walter was charged with distributing the mail +because Pere Jacques had no right to leave his lodge on any account. +Rouletabille took the letters from the man’s hands and said to him that +he would take it in himself. + +A few drops of water had begun to fall. + +We turned to the door of M. Darzac’s room. Bernier was smoking his pipe +in the corridor, sitting astride a chair. + +“Is M. Darzac still there?” asked Rouletabille. + +“He hasn’t stirred since he went in,” Bernier replied. + +We knocked. We heard the heavy bolt drawn from the inside. (These bolts +can only be used by the person within the room.) + +M. Darzac was writing letters when we entered. He had been seated +beside the little reading table facing the door R. + +Now mark well all our movements. Rouletabille complained that the +letter which he held in his hand confirmed the telegram which he had +received in the morning and pressed him to return to Paris. His paper +insisted upon his proceeding at once to Russia. + +M. Darzac read indifferently the two or three letters which we had +brought him and put them in his pocket. I held out to Rouletabille +the letter which I had received. It was from my friend in Paris who, +after having given me some important details regarding the departure +of Brignolles, informed me that the laboratory assistant had left his +address for mail to be forwarded to Sospel, the Hotel des Alps. This +was extremely interesting and M. Darzac and Rouletabille were greatly +excited over it. We decided to go to Sospel as soon as it could be +arranged and, after talking of the matter for a few minutes, we went +out of the room. The door of Mme. Darzac’s sleeping room was not +closed. Here is what we noticed as we passed out: + +I have mentioned that Mme. Darzac was not in her own room. As soon as +we made our exit, Pere Bernier immediately--immediately, I say, for I +saw him--turned the key in the lock and then took it out and put it in +his pocket--in the little inside pocket of his waistcoat. Ah, I can +still see him putting the key into his inside pocket--I swear it!--and +he buttoned his coat over it! + +Then the three of us went out of the Square Tower, leaving Pere Bernier +in his corridor like the good watch dog that he never ceased to be +until the last day of his life. One may be a poacher and a good watch +dog into the bargain, you know. Even watch dogs poach sometimes. And I +bear witness here and now, among all the events which followed, Pere +Bernier always did his duty and never told lies. And his wife, Mere +Bernier, was an excellent servant, faithful, intelligent and not too +talkative. Since she has been a widow, I have had her in my service. +She will be glad to read here the tribute which I pay to her and to her +husband. They both deserved it. + + * * * * * + +It was about half past six o’clock when, in emerging from the +Square Tower, we went to pay a visit to Old Bob in the Round Tower, +Rouletabille, M. Darzac and I. As soon as we entered the low basement +M. Darzac uttered an exclamation of surprise and indignation at seeing +the destruction which had been wrought upon a wash drawing upon which +he had been working ever since the evening before in the endeavor to +distract his mind, and which represented the plan for a great scaling +ladder for the Fort of Hercules of the kind which had existed in the +Fifteenth Century and of which Arthur Rance had shown us the pictures. +This drawing had been gashed with a knife and paint had been smeared +over it. He endeavored in vain to obtain some explanation from Old Bob, +who was kneeling beside a box containing a skeleton and was so wrapped +up in a shoulder blade that he did not even answer us. + + * * * * * + +I desire here, by way of parenthesis, to ask the pardon of the reader +for the mathematical precision with which for the last few pages, I +have enumerated our every act and movement, but I will assure him, once +and for all, that even the smallest circumstances have in reality a +considerable importance, for everything which we did at this time was +done, though alas, we did not guess it, on the brink of a precipice. + +As Old Bob seemed to be in a churlish humor, we left him--that is, +Rouletabille and myself did. M. Darzac remained gazing at his spoiled +drawing, but thinking, doubtless, of altogether different things. + +As we went out of the Round Tower, Rouletabille and I raised our eyes +to the sky which was rapidly becoming covered with great, black clouds. +The tempest was near at hand. In the meantime, the air seemed to grow +more and more stifling. + +“I am going to lie down in my room,” I said. “I can’t stand any more of +this. Perhaps it may be cooler there with all the windows open.” + +Rouletabille followed me into the New Castle. Suddenly, as we reached +the first landing of our winding staircase, he stopped me: + +“Ah,” he said in a low voice; “_she_ is there!” + +“Who?” + +“The Lady in Black. Can’t you smell the perfume?” + +And he hid himself behind a door, motioning me to continue without +waiting for him. I obeyed. + +What was my amazement in opening the door of my room to find myself +face to face with Mathilde! + +She uttered a low cry and disappeared in the shadow, gliding away +like a surprised bird. I rushed to the staircase and leaned over the +balustrade. She swept down the steps like a ghost. She soon gained the +ground floor and I saw below me the face of Rouletabille, who, leaning +over the rail of the first landing, looked at her, too. + +He mounted the steps to my side. + +“Oh, my God!” he cried. “What did I tell you! Poor, poor soul!” + +He seemed to be in the greatest agitation. + +“I asked M. Darzac for eight days!” he went on. “But this thing must be +ended in twenty-four hours or I shall no longer have strength to act.” + +He entered my room and threw himself into a chair as if exhausted. “I +am smothering!” he moaned. “I can’t breathe!” He tore his collar away +from his throat. “Water!” he entreated. “Water!” + +I started to fetch some, but he stopped me. + +“No--I want the water from the heavens! I must have it!” and he waved +his hands toward the dark skies from which huge drops were slowly +beginning to fall. + +For ten minutes he remained stretched out in the chair, thinking. What +surprised me was that he asked no question or uttered no conjecture as +to what the Lady in Black had been seeking in my room. I would not have +known how to answer, if he had done so. At length, he rose. + +“Where are you going?” I asked. + +“To take the guard at the postern.” + + * * * * * + +He would not even come in to dinner and sent word to have some soup +brought out to him as though he were a soldier. The dinner was served +in la Louve at half past eight. Darzac, who came to the table from Old +Bob’s workroom, said that the latter refused to dine also. Mme. Edith, +fearing that her uncle might be ill, went immediately to the Round +Tower. She would not even allow her husband to accompany her--indeed, +she seemed to be much out of humor with him. + +The Lady in Black came in on the arm of her father. She cast on me a +look of sorrowful reproach which disturbed me greatly. Her eyes seemed +never to wander from me. + +It was a gloomy meal enough. No one ate much. Arthur Rance looked every +moment in the direction of the Lady in Black. All the windows were +open. The atmosphere was suffocating. A flash of lightning and a heavy +clap of thunder came in rapid succession--and then, the deluge! A sigh +of relief issued from our overcharged breasts. Mme. Edith reappeared +just in time to escape being drenched by the furious rain which beat +down like cannon balls upon the peninsula. + +The young woman told us in excited tones and with her hands clasped, +how she had found Old Bob bending over his desk with his head buried +in his hands. He had refused to have anything to say to her. She had +spoken to him affectionately and he had treated her like a bear. Then, +as he had obstinately held his hands to his ears, she had pricked one +of his fingers with a little pin set with rubies which she used to +fasten the lace scarf which she wore in the evening over her shoulders. +Her uncle, she said, had turned upon her like a madman, had snatched +the little pin from her and thrown it upon the desk. And then he had +spoken to her--“brutally, rudely as he had never done before in his +life!” she ejaculated. “Get out of here and leave me alone!” was what +he had said to her. Mme. Edith had been so much pained that she went +out without saying a word, promising herself, however, that she would +not soon set foot again in the Round Tower. But she had turned her head +for a last look at her old uncle and had been almost struck dumb by +what she saw. + +The “oldest skull in the history of the human race” was upon the +desk, and Old Bob, a handkerchief stained with blood in his hand, was +spitting in the skull. He had always treated it with the most severe +respect and had insisted that others should do the same. Edith had +hurried away, almost frightened. + +Robert Darzac reassured her by telling her that what she had taken for +blood was only paint and that Old Bob’s skull had been spattered by the +paints which had been used in the wash drawing. + +I left the table to hurry out to Rouletabille and also to escape +from Mathilde’s glances. What had the Lady in Black been doing in my +bedroom? I was not to wait long to know! + + * * * * * + +When I started out the thunder was pealing loudly and the rain falling +with redoubled force. It took me only one bound to reach the postern. +No Rouletabille was there! I found him on the terrace B″, watching the +entrance to the Square Tower and receiving the full strength of the +storm at his back. + +I entreated him to take shelter under the arch. + +“Leave me alone!” he said impatiently. “Leave me alone. This is the +deluge. Ah, how good it is! how good--all this anger of the heavens! +Have you ever had a desire to roar with the thunder? I have--and I am +roaring now. Listen, while I cry out--alas! alas! alas! My voice is +stronger than the thunder!” + +And he plunged into the darkness making the shadows resound with his +savage clamors. I believed this time that he had surely gone mad! But +in my heart I knew that the unhappy lad was breathing forth in these +indistinct articulations of frightful anguish the misery that burned +him, and which he was constantly trying to hinder from burning up the +heart and the soul in his body--the misery of being the son of Larsan. + +I turned helplessly and as I did so, I felt a hand seize my wrist and a +dark form cried out to me above the tempest: + +“Where is he?” + +It was Mme. Darzac who was also seeking Rouletabille. A new peal of +thunder burst and we heard the boy in his mad delirium hurling wild +shouts of defiance to the heavens. She heard him. She saw him. We were +drenched with water from the rain and the breaking of the sea on the +terrace. Mme. Darzac’s clothing clung around her like a rag and her +skirt dripped as she walked. I took the wretched woman’s arm and held +her up, for I saw that she was about to fall, and at that moment, in +the midst of that terrible unchaining of the elements, in that mad +tempest, under this terrible downpour on the breast of the raging sea, +I all at once breathed the perfume--the odor so sweet and penetrating +and haunting that its fragrance has remained with me ever since--the +Perfume of the Lady in Black. Ah, I understood now how Rouletabille had +remembered it all these years. + +Yes, it was a fragrance full of sadness--something like the perfume of +an isolated flower which has been condemned to be seen by no one but to +blossom for itself all alone. It was a fragrance which set such ideas +as these running through my brain, although I did not analyze them at +the time--a sweet, soft and yet insistent perfume which seemed to steal +away my senses in the midst of this battle of the elements, as soon as +I perceived it. A strange perfume! Surely it was that, for I had seen +the Lady in Black hundreds of times without noticing it, and now that I +had done so, it was everywhere and above all things and I knew that the +memory of it would abide with me while life should last. I understood +how when one had--I will not say smelled but seized (for I do not think +that everyone would have been able to catch the subtle fragrance of the +perfume of the Lady in Black, any more than I myself had done before +this night in which my senses seemed to have become sharpened to the +keenest point)--yes, when one had seized this adorable and captivating +odor, it was for life. And the heart would be perfumed by it, whether +it was the heart of a son, like Rouletabille; or the heart of a lover, +like M. Darzac; or the heart of a villain, like Larsan. No, no--the +knowledge of it could never pass. And now, by some sudden insight, I +seemed to understand Rouletabille and Darzac and Larsan and all the +misfortunes which had attended the daughter of Professor Stangerson. + + * * * * * + +There in the night and the tempest, the Lady in Black called aloud to +Rouletabille and he fled from us and rushed further into the night, +shrieking aloud, “The perfume of the Lady in Black! The perfume of the +Lady in Black!” + +The unhappy woman sobbed. She drew me toward the tower. She struck with +desperate hands at the door which Bernier opened to us and her weeping +would have melted the heart of a stone. + +I could only utter the veriest commonplaces, begging her to calm +herself, although I would have given everything I had in the world to +find words which, without betraying anyone, might perhaps have made her +understand my own part in the sorrowful drama which was being played +out between the mother and the child. + +Suddenly she seemed to recover herself in some degree and she motioned +me to enter the little parlor at the right which was just outside the +bed chamber of Old Bob. The door stood open but there we were as much +alone as we could have been in her own room, for we knew that Old Bob +worked late in the Tower of Charles the Bold. + +I can assure you that in my memories of that horrible night the thought +of the moments which I spent in the company of the Lady in Black +are not the least sorrowful. I was put to a proof which I had not +expected, and it was like a blow full in the face when, without even +taking time to speak of the way in which we had been treated by the +elements, Mme. Darzac looked me full in the eyes and demanded: “How +long is it, M. Sainclair, that you were at Trepot?” + +I was struck dumb--overpowered more completely than I had been by the +fury of the storm. And I felt that, at the moment when nature, wearied +out, was beginning to grow more quiet, I was to suffer a more dangerous +assault than that of thunderbolts or lightning flashes. I must, by my +expression, have betrayed the agitation which was aroused in my mind by +this unexpected remark, for I could see by her eyes as she looked at me +that she was aware how deeply I was moved. + +At first I made no answer: then I stammered out some disconnected words +of which I remember nothing, save that they were ridiculous. It is +years now since that night, but as I write I am living over the scene +as if I were a spectator instead of the actor which I actually was, and +as if it were even now going on in front of my eyes. + +There are people who may be drenched to the skin and yet not look in +the least ridiculous. The Lady in Black was one of them. Although, +like myself, she had experienced the full fury of the storm, she was +majestic and beautiful with her dishevelled locks, her bare neck and +magnificent shoulders which, through the thin silk which clothed them +seemed to have merely a light veil thrown across the flesh. She seemed +to be a sublime statue, carved by Phidias from the immortal clay to +which his chisel has given form and beauty. I am well aware that, +even after all the years which have elapsed, my description sounds +too glowing and I will not linger on the subject. But those who have +known Professor Stangerson’s daughter will understand me, I think, and +I desire, here, with Rouletabille near me, to affirm the sentiments +of respectful admiration which filled my heart at the sight of this +mother, so divinely beautiful, who, in the state of disorder to which +the fearful tempest had brought her, and with her whole heart filled +with agony, was endeavoring to make me break the oath that I had sworn +to the lad who was my friend. + +She took both my hands in hers and said in a voice which I shall never +forget: + +“You are his friend. Tell him, then, that he is not the only one who +has suffered.” And she added with a sob which shook her whole frame: + +“Why will he insist on not telling me the truth!” + +I had not a word to say. What could I have answered? This woman had +always seemed so cold and formal to the world in general and (as I had +thought) to me in particular that it was as if I had not existed for +her, and now she was laying bare her heart before me as though I were +an old friend. And I had breathed the perfume of the Lady in Black. + +Yes, she treated me as an old friend. She told me everything that I +already knew in a few sentences as piteous and as simple as a mother’s +love itself--and she told me other things which Rouletabille had kept +a secret from me. Evidently the game of hide and seek could not have +lasted long. The relationship between them had been guessed by the +one as surely as by the other. Led by a sure instinct Mme. Darzac +had resolved to take means to learn who was this Rouletabille who +had saved her from death and who was of the age of her own son--and +who resembled the lad whom she had mourned as dead. And since her +arrival at Mentone, a letter had reached her containing the proof that +Rouletabille had lied to her in regard to his early life and had never +set foot in any school at Bordeaux. Immediately, she had sought the +youth and had asked for an explanation, but he had hurried away without +replying. But he had seemed disturbed when she spoke to him of Trepot +and of the school at Eu, and the trip which we had made there before +coming to Mentone. + +“How did you know?” I exclaimed, betraying my secret without realizing +that I was doing so. + +She showed no sign of triumph at my involuntary confession, and in a +few words went on to reveal to me her stratagem. That evening when I +had taken her by surprise, it was not the first time that she had been +in my room. My luggage bore the labels of the hotels at which we had +stopped on our recent journey. + +“Why did he not throw himself into my arms when I opened them to him?” +she moaned. “Ah, my God! If he refuses to be Larsan’s son, will he +never consent to be mine!” + +As she told me her story, it seemed to me that Rouletabille had +conducted himself in an atrocious fashion toward this poor woman who +had believed him dead, who had mourned for him in despair, and who, +in the midst of her terrible dread and mortal anguish, experienced a +thrill of the keenest joy in realizing that her son was still alive. +Ah, the poor mother! The evening before, he had mocked at her when she +had cried out to him with all her soul that she had a son and that that +son was he! He had mocked her, even while the tears had streamed +down his cheeks. I could never have believed that Rouletabille could +have been so cruel or so heartless--or, even, so ill-bred! + +[Illustration: We could see his figure borne along as on the wind, and +could hear the voice calling, “Mother! Mother!”] + +Certainly he behaved in an abominable fashion! He had told her with a +sardonic smile that “he was nobody’s son--not even the son of a thief.” +It was these words that had sent her flying to her room in the Square +Tower and had made her long to die. But she had not found her son only +to give him up so easily and she would--she must have him acknowledge +her! + +I was almost beside myself. I kissed her hands and entreated pardon +for Rouletabille. Here was the result of my friend’s schemes to save +her pain. Under the pretext of saving her from Larsan, he had plunged +a knife into her heart. I felt as though I had no wish to know any +more of the story. I knew too much already and I longed to run away. I +hastened out of the room and called Bernier, who opened the door for +me. I went out of the Square Tower, cursing Rouletabille roundly. I +went to the Court of the Bold to look for him, but found it deserted. + +At the postern gate Mattoni had come to take the ten o’clock watch. +I saw a light in Rouletabille’s room and I hastened up the rickety +stairway of the New Castle and quickly found myself outside his door. I +opened it without knocking. Rouletabille looked up. + +“What do you want, Sainclair?” + +I told him all that I had heard and my opinion of him for his actions +which had so deeply wounded Mme. Darzac. + +“She didn’t tell you everything, my friend,” he replied, coldly. “She +did not tell you that she forbade me to touch that man.” + +“That is true!” I cried. “I heard her.” + +“Well, what have you come here to tell me then?” he went on, roughly. +“Do you know what she said to me yesterday? She ordered me to go away. +She would rather die than see me take issue _against my father_.” + +And he laughed--laughed. Such laughter, I hope not to hear again. + +“Against my father! She thinks, I suppose, that he is stronger than I!” + +His face was not a pleasant sight to see as he uttered the words. + +But suddenly it seemed to be transformed and to glow with unearthly +beauty. + +“She is afraid for me!” he said, softly. “And I--I am afraid for +her--only for her. And I do not know my father. And, God help me! I do +not know my mother!” + +At that moment the sound of a shot rang out on the night, followed by +a cry of mortal agony! Ah, it was again the cry that I had heard two +years ago in the “inexplicable gallery.” My hair rose on my scalp and +Rouletabille tottered as though the bullet had struck himself. + +And then he bounded toward the open window, filling the fortress with a +despairing burst of anguish: + +“Mother! Mother! Mother!” + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + THE ATTACK OF THE SQUARE TOWER + + +I leaped after him and threw my arms around his body, dreading what +he might attempt. There was in that cry, “Mother! Mother! Mother!” +such a madness of despair, a call, or rather, an assurance of coming +aid so beyond the realization of human strength, that I was obliged +to fear that the young fellow had forgotten that he was only a man +and had not the power to fly straight out of the window of the tower +and to traverse, like a bird or a flash of lightning, the black space +which separated him from the crime which had been committed and which +he filled with his frightful cries. Quickly, he turned on me, threw me +off, and precipitated himself wildly, through corridors, apartments, +stairways and courts toward the accursed tower from which had come that +same death cry that we both had heard--a moment ago, and also two years +before when it had resounded through the “inexplicable gallery.” + +As for me, I had thus far only had the time to gaze out of the window, +rooted to my place by the horror of that cry. I was still there when +the door of the Square Tower opened, and in its frame of light, there +appeared the form of the Lady in Black. She was standing upright, +living and unharmed, in spite of that cry of death, but her pale +and ghastly visage reflected a terror like that of death itself. +She stretched out her arms toward the night and the darkness cast +Rouletabille into them, and the arms of the Lady in Black closed around +him and I heard no more only sobs and moans and again the two syllables +which the night repeated over and over, “Mother! Mother!” + +I descended from my tower into the court, my temples throbbing, my +heart beating so fast that it almost stifled me. What I had seen on +the threshold of the Square Tower had not by any means assured me that +nothing terrible had taken place. It was in vain that I attempted to +reason with myself and to say: “Nonsense! At the very moment when we +believed that all was lost, is not, on the contrary, everything found? +Are not the mother and son united?” + +But why, then, this cry of death when she was alive and well? Why that +scream of agony before she had appeared standing on the threshold of +the tower? + +Strange to say, I found no one in the Court of the Bold when I crossed +it. No one then had heard the pistol shot! No one had heard the cries! +Where was M. Darzac? Where was Old Bob? Was he still working in the +lower basement of the Round Tower? I might have believed so, for I +perceived a light in the window of the tower. But Mattoni--Mattoni--had +he heard nothing, either?--Mattoni, who kept watch at the postern of +the gardener? And the Berniers? I saw neither of them. And the door +of the Square Tower still stood open. Ah, the soft murmur, “Mother! +Mother! Mother!” And I heard her voice answer back, tenderly, though +choked with sobs, “My boy! My little one!” They had not even taken the +precaution to close the door of Old Bob’s parlor. It was into that +room where I had talked with her a little while before that she had led +her child. + +And they were there alone, clasped in each other’s arms, repeating over +and over again, “Mother!” and “My little one!” And then they murmured +broken sentences, phrases without end--with the divine foolishness of a +mother and her child. “Then, you were not dead!” That was sufficient to +make them both fall to sobbing. And then, how they embraced each other, +as though to make up for all the years they had lost. I heard him +murmur, “You know, mamma, it was not true that I stole!” And one would +have thought from the sound of his voice that he was still the little +lad of nine years--my poor Rouletabille. “No, my darling--you never +stole! My little boy! my little boy!” Ah, it was not my fault that I +heard--but my heart was torn in two as I listened. + + * * * * * + +But where was Bernier? I entered the lodge from the left, for I wished +to know the meaning of the cry and of the shot which I had heard. + +Mere Bernier was at the back of the room which was lighted only by +a tiny taper. She was like a black bundle on a sofa. She must have +been in bed when the shot was heard and she had hastily donned some +clothing. I picked up the taper and brought it near. Her features were +distorted with fear. + +“Where is Bernier?” I asked. + +“He is there,” she replied, trembling. + +“There. Where is that?” + +But she made no answer. + +I took a few steps toward the interior of the lodge and I stumbled. I +bent down to know what I had stepped upon and found out that it was +Mere Bernier’s potatoes. I lowered the light and looked at the floor; +it was strewn with potatoes; they had rolled everywhere. Could it be +that Mme. Bernier had not gathered them up after Rouletabille had +emptied out the bag? + +I arose and turned to Mere Bernier. + +“Someone fired off a pistol!” I said. “What has happened?” + +“I do not know,” she responded. + +And, at that moment, I heard someone open the door of the tower and +Pere Bernier stood on the threshold. + +“Ah! it is you, M. Sainclair?” + +“Bernier! What has happened?” + +“Oh, nothing very serious, M. Sainclair, I am glad to say.” (But his +voice was too palpably endeavoring to sound strong and brave for me to +feel as reassured as he was trying to make me!) “An accident without +any importance whatever. M. Darzac, while placing his revolver on the +stand beside his bed, accidentally fired it off. Madame, naturally, was +frightened, and screamed; and, as the window of their room was open, +she thought that you and M. Rouletabille might have heard something and +started out to tell you that it was nothing.” + +“M. Darzac has come in, then?” + +“He got here almost as soon as you had left the tower, M. Sainclair. +And the shot was fired almost immediately after he entered his bedroom. +You can guess that I had a pretty fright! I rushed to the door! M. +Darzac opened it, himself. Happily, no one was injured!” + +“Did Mme. Darzac go to her own room as soon as I left the tower?” + +“At once. She heard M. Darzac when he came in and followed him directly +to their apartments. They went in almost at the same moment.” + +“And M. Darzac? Is he still in his room?” + +“Here he is now.” + +I turned and saw Robert Darzac; despite the gloom of the place, I saw +that his face was ghastly pale. He made me a sign and then said very +calmly and quietly: + +“Listen, Sainclair! Bernier told you about our little accident. It is +not worth mentioning to anyone, unless someone should speak of it to +you. The others, perhaps, have not heard the shot. It would be useless +to frighten all these good people; don’t you think so? Now I have a +little favor to ask of you.” + +“Speak, my friend,” I bade him. “Whatever it is, I will do it: you know +that without my saying so. Make any use of me that you like.” + +“Thanks; but it is only to persuade Rouletabille to go to bed; when +he is gone, my wife will calm herself and will try to get the rest +that she needs. Every one of us has need of rest--and of calmness, +Sainclair. We all need repose--and silence.” + +“Surely, my friend; you may count upon me.” + +I pressed his hand with a force which attested my sentiments toward +him; I was persuaded that both he and Bernier were concealing something +from us--something very grave! + +Darzac reëntered his room and I went to find Rouletabille in the +sitting room of Old Bob. + +But upon the threshold of the apartment, I jostled against the Lady +in Black and her son who were passing out. They were both so silent +and wore an expression so unexpected to me who had overheard their +exclamations of love and joy only a few moments before that I stood +before them without saying a word or making a movement. The extremity +which induced Mme. Darzac to leave Rouletabille so soon under such +extraordinary circumstances as those which had attended their reunion, +puzzled me so greatly that I could not find words to say what I +thought and the submission of Rouletabille in taking leave of her so +quickly amazed me. Mathilde pressed a kiss upon the lad’s forehead and +murmured: “Good-night, my darling,” in a voice so soft, so sweet and +at the same time so solemn that it seemed to me that it must resemble +the leave-taking of one who was about to die. Rouletabille, without +answering his mother, took my arm and led me out of the tower. He was +trembling like a leaf. + +It was the Lady in Black herself who closed the door of the Square +Tower. I was sure that something strange was passing within those +walls. The account of the pistol shot which had been given me satisfied +me not at all; and it is not to be doubted that Rouletabille would have +agreed with me if his reasoning powers and his heart had not been giddy +from the scene which had taken place between the Lady in Black and +himself. And then, after all, how did I know that Rouletabille did not +agree with me? We had scarcely gotten outside the Square Tower before +I demanded of Rouletabille the meaning of his strange manner. I drew +him into that corner of the parapet which joins the Square Tower to the +Round Tower in the angle formed by the jutting out of the Square Tower +upon the court. + +The reporter, who had allowed me as docilely as a little child to lead +him wherever I would, spoke to me in a low tone: + +“Sainclair, I have sworn to my mother that I will see nothing or hear +nothing of that which may pass this night in the Square Tower. It is +the first promise that I have made to my mother, Sainclair; but I will +break it for her sake just as I would give up my hope of heaven for +her. I must see and I must hear!” + +We were at that moment not far from a window in which a light was +still burning and which opened upon the sitting room of Old Bob and +sloped out upon the sea. This window was not closed, and it was this, +doubtless, which had permitted us to hear so distinctly in spite of +the thickness of the walls of the tower, the pistol shot and the +cry of agony that had followed it. From the spot where we were now +stationed, we could see nothing through this window, but was it not +something to be able to hear? The storm was past, but the waters were +not yet appeased and the waves broke on the rocks of the peninsula +with a violence that would have rendered the approach of any vessel +impossible. The thought of a vessel crossed my mind because I believed +for an instant that I could see the shadow of a vessel of some sort +appearing or disappearing in the gloom. But what could it be? Evidently +a delusion of my mind which beheld hostile shades everywhere--an +illusion of a mind which was assuredly more agitated than the waters +themselves. + +We stood there, motionless, for more than five minutes, before we heard +a sigh--ah, how long it was, that mournful sound!--a groan, deep as an +expiration, like a moan of agony, a heavy sob, like the last breath of +a departing soul--which reached our ears from that window, and brought +the sweat of terror to our brows. And then, nothing more--nothing +except the intermittent sobbings of the sea. + +And suddenly the light in the window went out. The outline of the +Square Tower blended with the blackness of the night. + +My friend and I grasped each other’s hand as if instinctively, +commanding each other, by this mute communication, to remain motionless +and silent. _Someone was dying, there, in that tower!_ Someone +whom they had hidden. Why? And who? Someone who was neither M. Darzac +nor Mme. Darzac, nor Pere Bernier, nor Mere Bernier, nor--almost beyond +the shadow of a doubt, Old Bob; _someone who could not have been in +the tower_. + +Leaning against the parapet to support ourselves, our necks stretched +toward that window through which there had come to us that sigh of +agony, we listened. A quarter of an hour passed thus--it might have +been a century! Rouletabille pointed out to me the window of his own +room in the New Castle which was still illuminated. I understood: it +was necessary to extinguish this light and return. I took a thousand +precautions. Five minutes later, I was back again with Rouletabille. +There was now no other light in the Court of the Bold than the feeble +ray which told of the late vigil of Old Bob in the lower basement of +the Round Tower and the light at the gardener’s postern where Mattoni +was standing sentinel. In truth, considering the positions which they +occupied, one might easily understand how it was that neither Old Bob +nor Mattoni had heard anything that had passed in the Square Tower, nor +even, in the heart of the storm, could the clamors of Rouletabille have +reached their ears. The walls of the postern were heavy and Old Bob was +entombed in a veritable subterranean cavern. + +I had scarcely time to steal back to Rouletabille in the corner of +the parapet, the post of observation which he had not quitted, before +we distinctly heard the door of the Square Tower moving softly upon +its hinges. As I attempted to lean further out of my corner, and see +further down into the court, Rouletabille pushed me back and allowed +only his own head to look over the wall; but as he was leaning far +over, I allowed myself to violate his command and looked over his head; +and this is what I saw. + +First, Pere Bernier, perfectly recognizable, in spite of the darkness, +who came out of the tower and directed his steps noiselessly to the +gardener’s postern. In the middle of the court, he paused, looked up +at the side where our windows were, and then returned to the side of +the court and made a signal which we interpreted as a sign that all +was well. To whom was this signal addressed? Rouletabille leaned still +further over; but he quickly retreated, pushing me back with him. + +When we dared to look out in the court again, no one was there. But in +a few moments, we again beheld Pere Bernier (or, rather, we heard him +first, for there ensued between him and Mattoni a brief conversation +the echoes of which were carried to us). And then we heard something +which climbed under the arch of the gardener’s postern and Pere Bernier +reappeared with the black and softly rolling form of a carriage beside +him. We could see that it was the little English cart, drawn by Toby, +Arthur Rance’s pony. The Court of the Bold was of beaten earth and the +little equipage made no more sound than as if it were gliding over a +carpet. Toby was so intelligent and so quiet that one would have said +that he had received his instructions from Pere Bernier. The latter, +reaching, at length, the “oubliette,” raised again his face toward our +windows, and then, still holding Toby by the bridle, came to the door +of the Square Tower. Leaving the little equipage before the door, he +entered the tower. A few moments passed by which seemed to us like +hours, particularly to Rouletabille, who was seized with a fit of +trembling which shook his frame like an aspen leaf. + +Pere Bernier reappeared. He crossed the court alone and returned to +the postern. It was then that we were obliged to lean further out +and, certainly, the persons who were now upon the threshold of the +Square Tower might have perceived us, if they had looked up at our +side, but they were not thinking of us. The night had become clear +and a beautiful moon had arisen which threw its rays over the sea and +stretched its radiance across the Court of the Bold. The two persons +who came out of the tower and approached the carriage appeared so +surprised that they almost recoiled at what they saw. But we could +hear the Lady in Black repeating again and again in low, firm tones: +“Courage, Robert, courage! You must be brave now!” + +And Robert Darzac replied in a voice which froze my blood: “It is not +courage which I lack!” He was bending over something which he dragged +before him and then raised in his arms as though it were a heavy burden +and tried to slip under the long seat of the English cart. Rouletabille +had taken off his cap. His teeth were chattering. As well as we could +distinguish, the thing was in a sack. To move this sack M. Darzac +was making the greatest efforts and we heard him breathe a sigh of +exhaustion. Leaning against the wall of the tower, the Lady in Black +watched him without offering any assistance. And, suddenly, at the +moment that M. Darzac had succeeded in loading the sack into the cart, +Mathilde pronounced these words in a voice shaken with horror: + +“_It is moving._” + +“It is the end!” said M. Darzac, wiping his forehead with his pocket +handkerchief. Then he took Toby by the bridle and started off, making a +sign to the Lady in Black, but she, still leaning against the wall, as +though she had been placed there for some punishment, made no signal in +reply. M. Darzac seemed to us to be quite calm. His figure straightened +up: his step grew firm--one might almost say that his manner was +that of an honest man who has done his duty. Still with the greatest +precaution, he disappeared with his carriage beneath the postern of the +gardener and the Lady in Black went back into the Square Tower. + +After this, I wished to emerge from our corner, but Rouletabille +restrained me. It was well that he did so, for Bernier came up to the +postern and crossed the court, directing his way again toward the +Square Tower. When he was not more than two meters from the door, which +was closed, Rouletabille glided softly from the corner of the parapet, +stepped between the door and the figure of Bernier, who was struck with +terror. He put his hands upon the shoulders of the concierge. + +“Come with me!” he commanded. + +Bernier seemed absolutely powerless. I, too, came out of my hiding +place. The old man looked at us both standing there in the moonlight: +his face was sorrowful and he murmured sadly: + +“This is a great misfortune!” + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + THE IMPOSSIBLE BODY + + +“It will be a great misfortune if you don’t tell the truth,” muttered +Rouletabille, in smothered tones. “But if you conceal nothing, the +trouble may not be so great. Come this way.” + +And he drew him, clasping him by the fist, toward the New Château, I +following. I saw that a great change had come over Rouletabille. He +was completely his old self again. Now that he was so happily relieved +of the sorrow of separation from his mother which had pressed on his +mind ever since his early childhood, now that he had again found the +perfume of the Lady in Black, he seemed to have reconquered all the +forces of his spirit and was ready to enter eagerly into the strife +against the mysteries which surrounded us. And, until the day when +all was ended--until the last supreme moment--the most dramatic that +I have ever lived through in the whole course of my existence--_the +moment in which life and death spoke out and were explained by his +lips_--he never again made a sign of hesitation in the forward +march: he never spoke another word which could have been taken as an +attempt to warn us against the dreadful situation which arose from +the siege of the Square Tower by the attack of that night between the +twelfth and thirteenth of April. + +Bernier resisted him no further. When others tried to do so, he held +them in his grasp until they cried for mercy. + +Bernier walked in front of us, his head bent, looking like an accused +man who is being led on his way to trial. And when we reached +Rouletabille’s room, the young reporter bade Bernier sit down facing +us. I lighted the lamp. Rouletabille sat silent for a moment, looking +at Bernier, lighting his pipe the while, and evidently seeking to read +in the face of the concierge all the honesty which he could find. Soon +his knitted brows relaxed, his eye grew clearer and, after he had blown +a few rings of smoke toward the ceiling, he said: + +“Well, Bernier, how did they kill him?” + +Bernier shook his shaggy head. + +“I have sworn to say nothing and I will say nothing, monsieur. And, +upon my word of honor, I know nothing.” + +“All right,” went on Rouletabille, unconcernedly. “Tell me what you +don’t know. For if you do not tell me what you don’t know, Bernier, I +will be responsible for nothing, no matter what happens.” + +“And for what could you be responsible in any case, monsieur?” + +“For one thing, I won’t answer for your safety, Bernier.” + +“For my safety? I have done nothing.” + +“For the safety of all of us, then--for our lives, even!” replied +Rouletabille, arising from his chair and pacing restlessly across the +room, in order, doubtless, to give himself an opportunity to perform +some necessary mental algebraic operation. Then he paused and went on, +“Where was he? In the Square Tower?” + +Bernier did not speak but he nodded assent. + +“Where? In Old Bob’s bedroom?” + +“No,” Bernier shook his head. + +“Hidden in your rooms?” + +Bernier shook his head vehemently. + +“Well, where was he then? He could certainly not have been in the +apartments of M. and Mme. Darzac!” + +Bernier bowed his head. + +“Miserable hound!” cried Rouletabille and he leaped at Bernier’s +throat. I rushed to the rescue of the concierge and snatched him from +the young man’s clutches. As soon as he could breathe, the old servant +looked up, piteously. + +“Why did you try to strangle me, M. Rouletabille?” he asked. + +“How dare you ask, Bernier? How dare you? And you acknowledge that +_he_ was in the apartment of M. and Mme. Darzac! Who, then, gained +him entrance to that apartment? No one but yourself. You, the only +person who had the key when the Darzacs were not there!” + +Bernier arose to his feet. He was as pale as a ghost, but his look and +attitude were full of dignity. + +“M. Rouletabille, do you accuse me of being an accomplice of Larsan?” + +“I forbid you to pronounce that name!” shouted the reporter. “You know +very well that Larsan is dead--and has been dead for months!” + +“For months!” echoed Bernier, ironically. “Yes, that is true--I was +wrong to forget it. When one devotes oneself to his masters and permits +himself to be beaten and abused for them, it is necessary to ignore +everything, no matter what they may do to you. I beg your pardon, sir.” + +“Listen to me, Bernier. I know that you are a brave man and I respect +you. It is not your good faith that I am questioning, but I am +censuring your negligence.” + +“My negligence!” Bernier, as pale as his face had been, flushed +crimson. “My negligence! I have not budged from my lodge--not even +from the corridor. I have always worn the key in my breast pocket and +I swear to you that no one entered that room--no one at all--after you +were there at five o’clock, except M. and Mme. Darzac, themselves. I do +not count, of course, the few moments that you and M. Sainclair were +there at about six o’clock.” + +“What!” exclaimed Rouletabille. “Do you want me to believe that this +individual--you have forgotten his name, I think, Bernier--let us call +him ‘the Man’--that the man was killed in M. Darzac’s rooms if he was +not there?” + +“I do not. And, furthermore, I can swear to you that he _was_ +there.” + +“Yes, but how could he have been? That is what I ask you, Bernier. And +you are the only one who can answer because you alone had the key in +the absence of M. and Mme. Darzac. And M. Darzac never took the key +with him when he left the room and no one could have gotten into the +room to hide while he was there.” + +“That is the mystery, monsieur. That is what puzzles M. Darzac more +than all the rest. But I have only been able to answer him as I have +answered you. There is the mystery.” + +“When you left the room with M. Darzac, M. Sainclair and myself at +about a quarter after six, did you lock the door immediately?” + +“Yes, monsieur.” + +“When did you open it after that?” + +“Not at all.” + +“And where were you in the meantime?” + +“In front of the door of my lodge, watching the door of the apartment. +My wife and I took our dinner in that same spot at about half after +six, on a little table in the corridor, because, on account of the door +of the tower being open, it was quite light and was pleasanter. After +dinner, I sat in the doorway of the lodge, smoking a cigarette and +chatting with my wife. We were so seated that, even if we had wished +to do so, we would not have been able to withdraw our eyes from M. +Darzac’s rooms. It is a mystery!--a mystery more extraordinary than +the mystery of the Yellow Room. For, in the former case, we did not +know of what had passed _before_. But now, monsieur, one knows all +that happened beforehand since you yourself visited the apartment at +5 o’clock and saw that no person was there; one knows all that passed +during the interim, for either I had the key in my pocket, or M. Darzac +was in his room and must have seen the man who opened his door and +entered the room for the purpose of assassinating him. And while I was +sitting in the corridor before the door, I must have seen the man pass! +And we know what took place _after_. After, there was the death of +the man and that proved that the man was there. Ah, it is a mystery!” + +“And from five o’clock until the moment of the tragedy, you declare +that you never quitted the corridor?” + +“I swear it.” + +“You are absolutely certain?” persisted Rouletabille. + +“Ah, pardon, monsieur--there was one moment--the moment that you called +me.” + +“That is good, Bernier. I wanted to see if you remembered that.” + +“But I was not away from my post more than an instant or two, and M. +Darzac was in his room then. He did not leave it while I was gone. Ah! +what a mystery!” + +“How do you know that M. Darzac didn’t go out during those moments?” + +“Why, because if he had done so, my wife, who was in the lodge, must +have seen him! And then all would be explained and we would not be so +puzzled, nor Madame either. Ah! must I say it to you over again? No one +has entered that room except M. Darzac at five o’clock and you two at +six, and no person got in between the time that M. Darzac went out and +the time when he came in at night with Mme. Darzac. He was like you--he +didn’t want to believe me. I swore it to him upon the corpse that lay +before us!” + +“Where was the corpse?” + +“In M. Darzac’s bedroom.” + +“It was really a dead body?” + +“Oh, he was breathing still--I heard him.” + +“Then it was not a corpse, Pere Bernier.” + +“Oh, M. Rouletabille, where was the difference? He had a bullet in his +heart.” + +At last, Pere Bernier was going to tell us of the body. Had he seen +it? Who was it? One would have said that this seemed of secondary +importance in the eyes of Rouletabille. The reporter seemed engrossed +only with the problem of finding how the body had come to be there. How +had that man happened to be killed? + +But, indeed, Pere Bernier knew only very little. The whole thing had +been as sudden as a rifle shot--so it seemed to him--and he was +behind the door. He told us that he was going to his lodge and felt so +drowsy that he had intended to throw himself down on the bed for a few +moments, when he and Mere Bernier heard such a commotion issue from the +apartment of M. Darzac that they were seized with terror. It was as if +the furniture were being thrown about and blows were rained upon the +walls. + +“What is the matter?” cried Mere Bernier, and the same instant they +heard the voice of Mme. Darzac, shouting, “Help! help!” This was the +cry that we, too, had heard in the New Château. Pere Bernier, leaving +his wife almost fainting from horror, rushed to the door of M. Darzac’s +room and beat against it, crying aloud to him to open, but obtaining +no reply. The struggle within was still going on. Bernier heard the +labored breathing of two men and he recognized the voice of Larsan when +he heard the words: “With this blow, I shall have your life!” Then +he heard M. Darzac, who called his wife to his aid in a voice almost +stifled, as though he were gagged, “Mathilde! Mathilde!” Evidently +he and Larsan must have been engaged in a life and death struggle +when, suddenly, the pistol shot had saved him. This pistol shot had +frightened Pere Bernier less than the cry which had followed it. One +would have thought that Mme. Darzac, who had uttered the cry, had +been mortally wounded. Bernier was unable to understand Mme. Darzac’s +attitude in the matter. Why did she not open the door and admit him +to help her husband? Why did she not draw the shades? Finally, almost +immediately after the pistol shot, the door, upon which Pere Bernier +had not stopped knocking all the time, was opened. The room was +wrapped in darkness, which did not surprise the concierge, for the +light of the chandelier which he had perceived under the door during +the fight had been suddenly extinguished and at the same moment he +had heard the chandelier itself fall heavily to the floor. It was +Mme. Darzac who had opened the door and Bernier could distinguish +through the gloom the form of M. Darzac leaning over something which +the concierge knew was a dying man. Bernier had called to his wife to +bring a light, but Mme. Darzac had cried: “No, no! No light! no light! +And, above all, be sure that _he_ knows nothing.” And immediately +she had rushed to the door of the tower, calling out, “He is coming! +he is coming! I hear him! Open the door, Pere Bernier! I must go and +meet him!” And Pere Bernier had opened the door, the while she kept on +moaning, “Hide yourselves! Go in! Don’t let him know anything!” + +Pere Bernier went on: + +“You came like a waterspout, M. Rouletabille. And she drew you into +Old Bob’s sitting room. You saw nothing. I stayed with M. Darzac. The +rattle in the throat of the man on the floor had ceased. M. Darzac +still bending over him said to me: ‘Get a sack, Bernier, a sack and a +stone, and we will throw him into the sea and no one will ever hear his +voice again!’ + +“Then,” Bernier went on, “I thought of my sack of potatoes; my wife +had gathered them up and put them back in the sack after you had +emptied them out; I emptied the bag again and brought it to him. We +made as little noise as possible. During this time, Madame was, I +suppose, telling you the story in Old Bob’s sitting room and we heard +M. Sainclair questioning my wife in the lodge. Moving very quietly, +we had slipped the body, which M. Darzac had tied up, into the sack. +But I said to M. Darzac: ‘Let me beg of you not to throw it into the +water. It is not deep enough to hide it. There are days when the sea +is so clear that one may look down to the bottom.’ ‘What shall we do, +then?’ whispered M. Darzac. I answered: ‘Heaven help us, I don’t know, +monsieur! All that I could do for you and for Madame and for humanity +against a villain like Frederic Larsan, I have done and willingly. But +don’t ask any more of me and may God protect you!’ And I went out of +the room and found you in the lodge, M. Sainclair. And then you went +for M. Rouletabille at the request of M. Darzac, who had come out of +his own apartment. As for my wife, she was almost swooning with terror +when she suddenly saw that both M. Darzac and myself were covered +with blood. See, messieurs, my hands are red! Pray Heaven, it doesn’t +bring us misfortune! But we have done our duty. Oh, he was a miserable +wretch!--But do you want me to tell you?--well, one could never keep +such a history secret--and, in my opinion, it would be better to go +immediately with it to the justice. I have promised to keep silence +and I did keep silence so long as I was able, but I’m glad enough +to relieve myself of such a burden before you gentlemen who are the +friends of Monsieur and Madame--and who may, perhaps, be able to make +them listen to reason. Why should they hide the facts? Isn’t it an +honor to have killed Larsan!--Pardon me for having spoken his name--I +know well, it was not right--but is it not an honor to have saved the +whole world from a scoundrel in saving oneself? Ah! hold! a fortune! +Mme. Darzac promised me a fortune, if I would keep silence. What do I +care for that? Could one have a better fortune than to be of service to +the poor lady who has had so many troubles? Never in the world! But, +how she looked! Why should she have feared? I asked her when we thought +that you had gone to bed and that we three were all alone in the Square +Tower with our corpse. I said to her, ‘Tell everyone that you have +killed him! All the world will praise you!’ She answered: ‘There has +been too much scandal already, Bernier: and as much as it depends on me +to do, and as much as is possible, I will hide this new horror forever! +It would kill my father!’ I had nothing to say to that, but I wanted to +speak. It was upon the tip of my tongue to say, ‘If the business comes +out later, one will believe that you did something wrong and monsieur, +your father, will die just as surely.’ But it was her idea. She wished +that all should be concealed! Well, I promised her. That’s all!” + +Bernier turned toward the door, showing us his hands. + +“I must rid myself of the blood of the accursed pig!” he said, dryly. + +Rouletabille stopped him. + +“And what was M. Darzac saying all this time? What was his opinion?” + +“He repeated: ‘What Mme. Darzac says is right. She must be obeyed +implicitly.’ His shirt was torn and he had a slight wound in his +throat, but it did not seem to bother him at all, and, indeed, there +was only one thing in which he seemed interested, and that was as to +how the miserable wretch had gotten into his rooms. I told him what I +have told you--that he could not have entered without my seeing him, +and I told him just how I had passed every moment of my time. His first +words on the subject had been: ‘But when I came in a little while ago, +there was no one in my room and I shut and bolted the door.’” + +“Where did this conversation take place?” + +“In the lodge, in the presence of my wife, who was nearly frightened to +death, poor thing!” + +“And the body? Where was that?” + +“It lay in the sleeping room of M. Darzac.” + +“And how was it decided that it should be disposed of?” + +“I can’t say as to that for certain, but their resolution was taken, +for Mme. Darzac said to me: ‘Bernier, I am going to ask of you one last +service: go and bring the English cart from the stable and harness Toby +to it. Don’t waken Walter, if you can help it. If you wake him and he +asks for any explanations, say this to him and also to Mattoni, who has +the watch at the postern: “It is for M. Darzac, who must be at Castelar +at four o’clock in the morning to see the tournament in the Alps.”’ +Mme. Darzac said also: ‘If you meet M. Sainclair, bring him to me, but +if you meet M. Rouletabille, say nothing to him and do nothing that +may attract his attention.’ Ah, Monsieur! Madame did not let me go out +until the window of your room was closed and your light extinguished! +And, then, we were not entirely certain in regard to the body which we +believed to be dead, before it sighed once more--and, my God! what a +sigh! The rest, Monsieur, you saw for yourself and now you know as much +as I. God help us!” + +When Bernier had finished relating this incredible story, Rouletabille +put his hand on his arm, thanking him most earnestly for his great +devotion to his master and mistress, and begged him to use the utmost +discretion. The young reporter entreated the old servant to pardon his +roughness and ordered him to say nothing to Mme. Darzac of anything +that had passed between them. Bernier extended his hand in token of +fidelity, but Rouletabille drew back: + +“No--I can’t, Bernier! You are covered with blood.” + +Bernier left us to look for the Lady in Black. + +“Well!” I said when we were alone. “Larsan is dead!” + +“Yes,” answered Rouletabille. “I fear so!” + +“You fear so! Why, in Heaven’s name?” + +“Because,” he answered in a strange tone, which I could scarcely +recognize as his. “Because the death of Larsan, who is carried out dead +from a place which he never entered dead or alive, terrifies me more +than his life itself!” + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + IN WHICH THE FEARS OF ROULETABILLE ASSUME ALARMING PROPORTIONS + + +It was literally true that he was frightened. And I was more terrified +myself than words could express. I had never seen him in such a state +of mental inquietude. He walked up and down the room nervously, +occasionally stopping in front of the mirror and passing his hand over +his forehead, as if he were asking his own image, “Can it be you, +Rouletabille, who have such thoughts? How dare you harbor them?” What +thoughts? He seemed rather to be upon the point of thinking than to +be actually doing so, and to be using every means of driving thought +away. He shook his head savagely and started for the window as though +he meant to leap out, leaning forth into the night, listening for the +slightest noise on the distant bank of the sea, expecting, perhaps, +to hear the wheels of the little carriage and the echo of Toby’s +shoes. One might have thought him a beast at bay. The surf was quiet; +the waves had grown entirely appeased. A white ray appeared suddenly +shining over the black waters. It was the dawn. And in a moment the old +château seemed to rise out of the night, pale and livid with the same +pallor as our own--the pallor of one who has not slept. “Rouletabille,” +I asked, trembling as I spoke, for I felt that I was intruding upon +ground where my feet had no right to tread; “your interview with your +mother was very brief and you separated in silence. I want to ask +you, my boy, whether she told you the story of the accident with the +revolver on the night stand that Bernier told me?” + +“No,” he answered without turning his face toward me. + +“She told you nothing of that kind?” + +“No.” + +“And you did not ask her for any explanation of the pistol shot nor of +the death cry--the cry that was the echo of the one which we heard two +years ago from her lips in the ‘inexplicable gallery’?” + +“Sainclair, you are too curious--you are more curious than I. I asked +her nothing.” + +“And you swore to see nothing and to hear nothing without her saying +anything to you about the pistol shot and the cry?” + +“Truly, Sainclair, it was necessary for me to believe--for my part, I +respected the secrets of the Lady in Black. I had nothing to ask of +her when she said to me, ‘We must leave each other now, my child, but +nothing can ever separate us again!’” + +“Ah, she said that to you--‘Nothing can ever separate us again’?” + +“Yes, my friend--and there was blood upon her hands.” + +We looked at each other in silence. I was now at the window and beside +the reporter. Suddenly his hand touched mine. Then he pointed to the +little taper which was burning at the entrance to the subterranean door +which led to Old Bob’s study in the Tower of the Bold. + +“It is dawn,” said Rouletabille. “And Old Bob is still at work. This +old fellow is certainly industrious and we will go and have a peep at +him at his labors. That will change our current of thought and I shall +be able to get away from these horrors that are smothering me and +driving me half wild.” + +And he heaved a long sigh. + +“Will Darzac never return!” he murmured, more as though he were +speaking to himself than to me. + +A few moments later we had crossed the court and had descended into the +octagon room of the Tower of Charles the Bold. It was empty. The lamp +was burning on the work table, but there was no sign of Old Bob. + +“Oh!” cried Rouletabille. He picked up the lamp and carried it from +place to place examining everything around him. He tried in turn +the lock of every little window which opened from the walls of the +basement. Nothing had changed its place, and all was arranged in order +and scientific etiquette. While we were looking around at the bones and +shells and horns of the prehistoric ages, the “hanging crystals,” the +rings made out of bone, the buckles formed from teeth, and the other +treasures of the savant, we came to the little desk-table. There we +found the “oldest skull in the history of humanity”; and it was true +that it had been spattered with the red paint of the wash drawing which +M. Darzac had set to dry upon that part of the desk which faced the +window and was exposed to the sun. I went from one window to the other +and shook the iron bars in order to assure myself that they had not +been touched nor tampered with in any way. Rouletabille saw what I was +doing and said: + +“What are you about? Before thinking about how he could have gotten +out at the windows, wouldn’t it be better to find out whether he went +by the door?” + +He set the lamp upon the parapet and looked for traces of footprints. +Then Rouletabille said: + +“Go and knock at the door of the Square Tower and ask Bernier whether +Old Bob has come in. Ask Mattoni at the postern and Pere Jacques at the +iron gate. Go, Sainclair--quick!” + +Five minutes after I went out I was back with the information. No one +had seen Old Bob in any part of the fortress. He had not passed by +anywhere. Rouletabille had his face close to the parapet. He said: + +“He left this lamp burning in order to make people believe that he was +at work.” And then he added, softly: “There is no sign of a struggle of +any sort and in the sand I find the traces of the footprints of only +M. Arthur Rance and M. Robert Darzac, who came to this room during the +storm last night and have brought on their feet a little earth from the +court of the Bold and also of the claylike soil of the outer court. +There is no footprint which could be Old Bob’s. Old Bob reached here +before and, perhaps, went out while the tempest was raging, but, in any +case, he has not come in since.” Rouletabille stood erect. He replaced +upon the desk the lamp the rays of which fell directly upon the skull +which had been splashed by the red paint in a frightful fashion. Around +us there were dozens of skeletons but certainly their presence was less +alarming to me than the absence of Old Bob. + +Rouletabille stood for a moment staring at the crimson skull, then he +took it in his hands and held his eyes close to its empty orbits. Then +he raised the skull higher and held it at arms’ length, gazing at it +with an almost breathless interest; he looked at the profile. Then he +placed the hideous object in my hands and told me to raise it to the +level of my head, as carefully as thought it were the most precious of +burdens while Rouletabille brought the lamp very close to it. + +Like a flash an idea pierced through my brain. I let the skull fall on +the desk and rushed through the court till I came to the oubliette. +I discovered that the iron bars which closed it were still fast. If +anyone had fled by that way or had fallen into the shaft or had thrown +himself down, the bars would have been opened. I hurried back, more +anxious than ever. + +“Rouletabille! Rouletabille! There is no way that Old Bob could have +gotten out except in the sack!” + +I repeated the sentence, but my friend was not listening and I was +surprised to see him deeply engrossed in a task of which I found it +impossible to guess the meaning. How, at a time as tragic as the +present, while we were awaiting only the return of M. Darzac to +complete the circle in which the impossible body was found--while +in the Square Tower, the Lady in Black, like Lady MacBeth, must be +occupied in effacing from her hands the stains of the strangest of +crimes, Rouletabille seemed to be amusing himself by making drawings +with a foot rule, a square, a measure and a compass. There he was, +seated in the old geologist’s easy chair with Robert Darzac’s drawing +board before him and he also was making a plan--quiet and imperturbable +as an architect’s clerk. + +He had pricked the paper with one of the points of his compass while +the other point traced the circle which might represent the Tower of +the Bold as we could see it in the design of M. Darzac. Then, dipping +his brush into a tiny dish half full of the red paint which M. Darzac +had been using he carefully spread the paint over the entire space +occupied by the circle. In doing this, he was extremely particular, +giving the greatest attention to seeing that the paint was of the +same thickness at every point, just as a student might have done in +preparing a lesson. He bent his head first to the right and then to the +left as though to see the effect, moistening his lips with his tongue +as though he were meditating earnestly. In a moment he gave a little +start and then sat motionless. His eyes were fixed on the drawing as +though they had been glued to it. They did not even move in their +sockets. The stillness was horrible, but it was not much better when +his lips opened to utter an exclamation of breathless horror. His face +looked like that of a maniac. And he turned toward me so quickly that +he upset the great easy chair in which he had been seated. + +“Sainclair! Sainclair! Look at the red paint! Look at the red paint!” + +I leaned over the drawing, breathless, terrified by the savage +exultation of his tone. But I could only see a little drawing carefully +done. + +“The red paint! the red paint!” he kept groaning, his eyes staring in +his head as though he were witnessing some frightful spectacle. + +“But what--what is it?” I stammered. + +“‘_What is it?_’ My God, man, can’t you see? Don’t you know that +that is _blood_?” + +No, I did not know it--indeed, I was quite sure that it wasn’t +blood. It was merely red paint. But I took care not to contradict +Rouletabille. I feigned to be interested in this idea of blood. + +“Whose blood?” I inquired. “Do you think that it can be Larsan’s?” + +“Oh! oh! oh! Larsan’s blood? Who knows anything about Larsan’s blood? +Who has ever seen the color of it? To see that, it would be necessary +to open my own veins, Sainclair. That’s the only way!” + +I was completely overwhelmed and astonished. + +“My father would not let his blood be spilled like that!” + +He was speaking again with that strange, desperate pride of his father. + +“When my father wears a wig, it will fit! My father would not let his +blood be spilled like that!” + +“Bernier’s hands were covered with it and you yourself saw it upon the +hand of the Lady in Black.” + +“Yes, yes! That is true--that is true! But they could never kill my +father like that!” + +He seemed to grow more excited every moment and he never ceased gazing +on the little wash drawing. At last he spoke, his breast shaken with a +great sob. + +“O, God! O God! O God, have pity on us! That would be too frightful!” + +He ceased for a moment and then spoke again: + +“My poor mother did not deserve this! I did not deserve it--nor any one +in the world!” A tear ran down his cheek and fell into the little dish +of paint. + +“Ah!” he cried. “It isn’t necessary to fill it any fuller.” And he +picked up the tiny cup with infinite care and carried it to the cabinet. + +Then he took me by the hand and bade me look at him +carefully--carefully--and tell him whether he had not really gone +suddenly insane. + +[Illustration: His eyes seemed glued to his drawing. They never moved +from the paper.] + +“Let us go! let us go!” he said, drearily, at last. “The time is +come, Sainclair. No matter what happens, we can never turn back +now! The Lady in Black must tell us everything--_everything about +the man who is in that sack_! Ah, if M. Darzac were to return +immediately--immediately!--it might be less painful--but I dare wait no +longer!” + +Wait for what? Wait for whom? And why should he be so terrified now? +What fear had made his eyes so wild? Why did his teeth chatter? + +I could not restrain myself from asking him again: + +“What are you afraid of? Do you think that Larsan is not dead?” + +And he answered, gripping my hand as though he would never release it: + +“I tell you I fear his death more than I fear his life!” + +And he knocked at the door of the Square Tower before which we were +standing as he spoke. I asked him whether he did not wish me to leave +him alone with his mother. But, to my great surprise, he begged me not +to abandon him “for anything in the world--so that the circle should +not be closed.” And he added mournfully. “Perhaps it may never be!” + +The door of the Tower remained closed. He knocked again; then it was +opened and we saw Bernier’s face appear. He seemed embarrassed at the +sight of us. + +“What do you want? What are you doing here again?” he demanded. “Speak +low. Madame is in Old Bob’s sitting room. And the old man has not come +in yet.” + +“Let us enter, Bernier!” said Rouletabille. And he pushed the door +further open. + +“But whatever you do, don’t let Madame suspect----” + +“No, no!” replied Rouletabille, impatiently. + +We were in the vestibule of the Tower. The darkness was almost +impenetrable. + +“What is Madame doing in Old Bob’s sitting room?” asked the reporter in +a low voice. + +“She is waiting--waiting for the return of M. Darzac. She dare not +reënter _the room_ until he comes--nor I, either!” + +“Well, go back into your lodge, Bernier!” ordered Rouletabille. “And +wait until I call you.” + +The young reporter opened the door of Old Bob’s salon, and we saw the +form of the Lady in Black, or, rather, her shadow, for the apartment +was very dark and the first faint rays of the sun had scarcely +penetrated it. The tall, sombre silhouette of Mathilde was standing but +it leaned against the corner of the window which looked out upon the +court of Charles the Bold. She never moved at our entrance, but her +lips opened and a voice that I should never have recognized as hers, +murmured: + +“Why are you come? I saw you crossing the court. You have been there +all night. You know all. What do you want now?” + +And she added in a tone of unutterable misery: + +“You swore to me that you would seek to know nothing.” + +Rouletabille went to her side and took her hand reverently. + +“Come, Mother, dearest!” he said and the simple words upon his lips +sounded like a prayer, tender and imploring. “Come--come!” + +And he drew her away. She did not resist in the least. It was as though +as soon as he touched her hand, he could bend her to his will. But when +he led her to the door of the fatal chamber, her whole frame seemed to +recoil. “Not there!” she moaned. + +And she reeled against the wall to keep herself from falling. +Rouletabille tried the door. It was locked. He called Bernier, who +opened the door and then hurried away as though he were bent on +escaping from some deadly peril. + +Once the door was opened, we looked into the room. What a spectacle we +beheld! The chamber was in the most frightful disorder. And the crimson +dawn which entered through the vast embrasures rendered the disorder +still more sinister. What an illumination for a chamber of horrors! +Blood was upon the walls and upon the floor and upon the furniture! +The blood of the rising sun and the blood of him whom Toby had carried +off in the sack, no one knew whither!--in the potato bag! The tables, +the chairs, the sofas were all overturned. The curtains of the bed to +which the man in his death agony had tried desperately to cling were +half torn down and one could distinguish upon one of them the mark of a +bloody hand. + +It was into this scene that we entered, supporting the Lady in Black, +who seemed ready to swoon, while Rouletabille kept murmuring to her in +his gentle and pleading tones: “It has to be done, Mother! It has to be +done!” And as soon as he had placed her upon a couch which I had turned +right side up, he began to question her. She answered in monosyllables, +by signs of the head or movements of the hands. And I saw that the +further the examination progressed, the more troubled and restless +Rouletabille became. He was visibly affected. He endeavored to regain +his composure and to help his mother maintain hers but it was difficult +for him to succeed in either effort. He spoke to the unhappy woman +as though he were still her little child. He called her “mamma” and +tried in every way to show his reverence and love for her. But she had +utterly lost courage. He held out his arms and she threw herself into +them; the son and mother embraced and that seemed to give her a little +more strength and she burst into a fit of weeping which seemed to +relieve a little the terrible weight upon her breast. I made a movement +as if to retire, but both sought to detain me and I saw that they did +not wish to be left alone in this room red with blood. + +Mme. Darzac, after her sobs had ceased, murmured: + +“We are delivered!” + +Rouletabille had fallen upon his knees at her side and, as she +uttered the words, he said entreatingly: “Mother, dearest, in order +that we may be sure of that--quite sure--you must tell me all that +happened--everything that you saw.” + +Then she told us the story. She looked at the closed door; she looked +with what seemed to be new horror at the overturned furniture and the +blood-spattered walls and floor and she narrated the details of the +frightful scene through which she had passed in a voice so low as to +be almost inaudible, and I was obliged to bring my ear close to her to +hear at all. In short, halting phrases, she told us that as soon as +M. Darzac had entered his room, he had drawn the bolt and had walked +straight to the little table which was placed in the center of the +room. The Lady in Black was standing a little nearer the left, ready +to pass into her own sleeping room. The apartment was lighted only by +a wax candle placed on the night commode, at the left, near Mathilde’s +door. And this is what happened: + +The silence of the room was suddenly broken by a loud crash, like that +of a piece of furniture falling to the ground, which made both M. and +Mme. Darzac quickly raise their heads while their hearts were struck at +the same moment by the same thrill of terror. The crash came from the +little panel. And then all was silent. The pair looked at each other +without daring to utter a word, perhaps without being able to do so. +Darzac made a movement toward the panel which was situated at the back +of the room on the right hand side. He was nailed to the spot where he +stood by a second crash, louder than the first, and this time it seemed +to Mathilde that she could see the panel move. The Lady in Black asked +herself whether she were the victim of a hallucination, or if she had +really seen the panel move. But Darzac had seen the same thing, for he +made a hasty step in that direction. But at that very moment, the panel +swung open before them. Pushed by an invisible hand it turned on its +hinges. The Lady in Black tried to cry out, but her tongue clove to the +roots of her mouth. But she made a gesture of terror and bewilderment +which threw the wax candle to the ground at the very moment when a +shadowy form issued from the panel. Uttering a cry of rage, Robert +Darzac rushed upon the figure. + +“And that shadow--that shadow had a face that you could see?” +interrupted Rouletabille. “Mamma, why did you not see the face? You +have killed the shadow, but how do we know that it was Larsan, if you +did not see his face? Perhaps you have not even killed Larsan’s shadow.” + +“Oh, yes,” she replied, almost listlessly. “He is dead.” And then for a +moment, she said no more. + +And I looked at Rouletabille, asking myself: Who could have been killed +if it were not Larsan? If Mathilde had not seen his face, she had +certainly heard his voice. She shuddered yet at the recollection--she +heard it yet. And Bernier, too, had heard the voice and recognized +it--that terrible voice of Larsan’s--the voice of Ballmeyer, who in +that fearful conflict in the middle of the night, had promised death +to Robert Darzac. “This blow will end your life!” while Darzac could +only groan in the tones of a dying man, “Mathilde! Mathilde!” Ah, how +he had cried to her!--how he had called with the rattle in his throat, +as he lay already vanquished and in the shadow of death! And she--she +had only to throw her own shadow, swooning with terror, into the midst +of those two other shadows, while the man she loved called upon her for +the aid she could not give and which could not come from elsewhere. +And then, suddenly, there had come the pistol shot and she had uttered +that terrible shriek--as though she had been wounded, herself. “Who was +dead? Who was living? Who was speaking? Whose voice would she hear?” + +And then it was Robert who spoke. + +Rouletabille took the Lady in Black into his arms once more, lifted her +up and carried her tenderly to the door of her own room. And there, he +said to her: “Mamma, you must leave me now. I have work to do--for you, +for M. Darzac and for myself.” + +“Don’t leave me! I beg of you not to leave me until Robert comes +back!” she cried in terror. Rouletabille begged her to try and take +some rest and promised to remain near her if she would close her door, +when someone knocked at the door of the corridor. Rouletabille asked +who was there and the voice of Darzac answered. + +“At last!” cried Rouletabille, and he threw the door open. + +The man who entered looked like a corpse. Never was human face so +pallid, so bloodless, so devoid of all semblance of life. So many +emotions had ravaged his visage that it expressed not a single one. + +“Ah! you were there!” he said. “Well, it is over.” + +And he fell into the chair from which Rouletabille had just raised the +Lady in Black. He looked up at her. + +“Your wish is realized,” he said. “It is where you wished it to be.” + +“Did you see his face?” questioned Rouletabille excitedly. + +“No,” answered Darzac, wearily. “I have not seen it. Did you think that +I was going to open the sack?” + +I thought that Rouletabille would have shown discomfiture at this +answer but, on the contrary, he turned to M. Darzac and said: + +“Ah, you did not see his face. That’s very good, indeed.” And he +pressed his hand affectionately. + +“The important thing now,” he went on, “is not that, at all. It is +necessary that we should close the circle. And you will help us do +that, M. Darzac. Wait a moment.” + +And almost joyously, he threw himself down on all fours and crawled +around among the furniture and under the bed as I had seen him do in +the Yellow Room. And from time to time, he raised his head to say: + +“Ah, I shall find something--something that will save us.” + +I answered, looking at M. Darzac: “Aren’t we saved already?” + +“Which will save our brains,” Rouletabille went on. + +“The boy is right!” exclaimed M. Darzac. “It is absolutely necessary +for us to know how that man got into the room.” + +Suddenly Rouletabille rose to his feet, holding in his hand a revolver +which he had found under the panel. + +“Ah! you have found his revolver!” cried M. Darzac. “Fortunately, he +did not have time to use it.” + +As he spoke M. Darzac took from his pocket his own revolver--the +revolver which had saved his life--and held it out to the young man. + +“This is a good weapon!” he said. + +Rouletabille examined it closely and looked into the empty barrel out +of which had sped the ball which had dealt death; then he compared +the pistol with that which he had found under the panel and which had +fallen from the hand of the assassin. The latter was a “bull dog” and +bore the mark of a London gunsmith; it seemed to be quite new, every +barrel was filled and Rouletabille declared that it had never been +fired. + +“Larsan only avails himself of firearms in the last extremity,” said +the young man. “He hates noise of any kind. You may be sure that he +intended merely to frighten you with his revolver, otherwise he would +have fired it immediately.” + +[Illustration: Rouletabille examined the barrel of Darzac’s revolver, +and then compared the weapon with the other which he held.] + +And Rouletabille returned M. Darzac’s revolver and put Larsan’s in his +pocket. + +“Of what use is it to be armed now?” cried M. Darzac, shaking his head. +“I assure you it is quite futile.” + +“You believe so?” demanded Rouletabille. + +“I am certain of it.” + +Rouletabille made a few steps through the room and said: + +“With Larsan, one can never be sure of anything. Where is the body?” + +M. Darzac replied. + +“Ask my wife. I want to forget all about it. I know nothing more about +this horrible thing. When the remembrance of that dreadful journey +shall return to me, I shall try to make myself believe that it was a +nightmare. And I will drive it away. Never speak to me of it again. No +one save Mme. Darzac knows where the body is. She may tell you, if she +likes.” + +“I have forgotten, too!” said Mathilde. “I was obliged to do so.” + +“Nevertheless,” insisted Rouletabille, shaking his head, “you must tell +me. You said that he was in his agony. Are you sure that he is dead +now?” + +“I am perfectly sure,” replied M. Darzac, simply. + +“Oh, it is finished. Is it not entirely ended?” pleaded Mathilde. She +arose and walked to the window. “See! there is the sun! This horrible +night is dead--dead, forever! Everything is over!” + +Poor Lady in Black! The yearnings of her soul revealed themselves in +her words. “It is finished!” And the fact, as she believed it, made +her forget all the horror of the scene which had passed in this room. +Larsan no more! Larsan buried! Buried in the potato sack! + +And we all started up in affright, when the Lady in Black began to +laugh--the frantic laugh of a madwoman! She ceased as suddenly as she +had begun and a horrible stillness followed. We dared look neither at +her nor at each other! She was the first to speak. + +“It is all over!” she said. “Forgive me: I won’t laugh again.” + +And then Rouletabille said, speaking in a very low tone: + +“It will be over when we know how he got in.” + +“What good would it do?” replied the Lady in Black. “It is a question +to which he alone knows the answer. He is the only one who could tell +us and he is dead.” + +“He will not be truly dead for us until we know that,” responded +Rouletabille. + +“Evidently,” said M. Darzac, “so long as we do not know that, we shall +be uneasy and he will be there in our minds. He must be driven away! he +must be!” + +“Let us try to drive him away then,” said Rouletabille. + +And he went to the Lady in Black and gently took her hand in his and +attempted to draw her into the next room, begging her to lie down and +rest. But Mathilde declared that she would not go. She said: “What! +you would drive Larsan away and I not here!” And her voice sounded as +though she were about to laugh again. I made a sign to Rouletabille not +to insist upon her absence. + +Rouletabille opened the door leading into the corridor and called +Bernier and his wife. + +They did not wish to enter, but we insisted on their doing so, and a +general consultation took place from which we deduced the following +facts: + +(1) Rouletabille had visited the apartment at five o’clock and searched +behind the panel and at that time there was no one in the room. + +(2) After five o’clock, the door of the apartment had been twice opened +by Pere Bernier, who alone had the right to open it in the absence of +M. and Mme. Darzac. The first time was at five o’clock to permit M. +Darzac to enter; the next at eleven o’clock to admit M. and Mme. Darzac. + +(3) Bernier had locked the door of the apartment when M. Darzac went +out with us between a quarter past and half past six. + +(4) The door of the apartment had been locked and bolted by M. Darzac +as soon as he entered his room, both in the afternoon and in the +evening. + +(5) Bernier had stood guard before the door of the apartment from five +o’clock till eleven o’clock with a brief interruption of not more than +two minutes at six o’clock. + +When we had discussed and fully established these facts, Rouletabille, +who was sitting at M. Darzac’s desk taking notes, arose and said: + +“So far, it is very simple. We have only one hope. It is in the few +moments that Bernier was off guard about six o’clock. At least, at that +time, no one was in front of the door. But there was someone behind +it. It was you, M. Darzac. Can you reiterate, after having thoroughly +searched your memory, that when you went into your room, you instantly +closed the door and drew the bolt?” + +“I can!” replied M. Darzac, solemnly; and he added: “And I opened that +door only when you and Sainclair knocked upon it. I swear it.” + +_And in saying this, as later events proved, the man spoke the +truth._ + +Rouletabille thanked the Berniers and dismissed them to get some rest. +Then, his voice trembling, the lad said: + +“It is well, M. Darzac, you have closed the circle. The apartment in +the Square Tower is now closed as firmly as was the Yellow Room which +was like a strong box, or as the ‘inexplicable gallery.’” + +“One would guess immediately that Larsan was mixed up in the affair!” I +exclaimed. “It is the same mode of procedure!” + +“Yes,” observed Mme. Darzac. “Yes, M. Sainclair, it is the same mode of +procedure.” And she unfastened her husband’s collar to show the wounds +hidden beneath it. + +“See!” she said. “They are the same nail prints. I know them well.” + +There was a sorrowful silence. + +M. Darzac, caring only to solve this strange problem, reviewed the +crime of the Glandier. And he repeated what he had said in the Yellow +Room: + +“There must be a passage in the floor, in the ceiling or in the walls.” + +“There is not,” replied Rouletabille. + +“Then he must have found some way to make one,” persisted M. Darzac. + +“Why?” asked Rouletabille. “Did he do anything of the sort in the +Yellow Room?” + +“Oh, this isn’t the same thing at all!” I exclaimed. “This apartment is +more firmly closed than the Yellow Room since no one could have gotten +into it before nor after.” + +“No, it is not the same thing,” pronounced Rouletabille. “It is just +the opposite. In the Yellow Room, there was a body missing: in the room +in the Round Tower, there is a body too many.” + +And he tottered out, leaning on my arm so as not to fall. The Lady in +Black rushed toward him. He had strength enough left to stop her with a +gesture. + +“Oh--this is nothing!” he said. “I’m a little tired, that’s all!” + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + THE SACK OF POTATOES + + +While M. Darzac, with the assistance of Bernier, busied himself, as +Rouletabille advised, with obliterating all signs of the tragedy, +the Lady in Black, who had hastily changed her dress, hurried to her +father’s rooms in order not to run the risk of encountering any of the +other members of the party. Her last word was to counsel us to prudence +and silence. Rouletabille also took leave of us. + +It was now about seven o’clock in the morning and things began to stir +in and about the château. We could hear the fishermen singing in their +boats. I threw myself upon my bed, and in a few moments I was sleeping +profoundly, vanquished by the physical weariness which was stronger +than my powers of resistance. When I awakened, I lay for a few moments +on my couch in a pleasant bewilderment, but as the events of the night +dawned on my remembrance, I started up in terror. + +“Ah!” I cried out, “A body too many! No, no! It can’t be! It’s +impossible!” + +It was this which surged across the dark gulf of my thoughts, above +the abyss of my memory; this impossibility of “a body too many.” And +the horror which I found in my heart at my awakening was not confined +to myself--far from it! All those who had mingled, near or far, in +this strange drama of the Square Tower, shared it; and even though +the horror of the event itself were appeased--the horror of the body +in its last throes of agony thrown into a sack which a man carried +off at night to cast it into who knows what far off and profound and +mysterious tomb where it might gasp out its last breath of life--even +if, I say, this horror should be forgotten and blotted out of the mind, +and effaced from the vision, yet still the impossibility of this “body +too many” grew and increased and rose up before us higher and higher +and more threatening and more dreadful. Certain persons there are--like +Mme. Edith, for example--who deny almost from habit, anything which +they cannot understand--who deny the presentation of the problem which +destiny holds for us (such as we have established in the preceding +chapter) even while every event and every circumstance among those +which had the Fort of Hercules for their theatre rendered proof of the +exactitude of the presentation. + +First of all, the attack! How had the attack been made? At what moment? +By what means of approach? What mines, trenches, covered paths, +breaches--in the domains of the mental fortifications--have served the +assailant and delivered the château over into his hands? Yes, under +the existing conditions, where was the attack? The answer is--silence. +And yet, the facts must be brought to light. Rouletabille has said so; +he ought to know. In a siege as mysterious as this, the attack may be +in everything or in nothing. The assailant is as still as the grave +itself and the assault is made without clamor and the enemy approaches +the walls walking in his stocking feet. The _attack_? It is, +perhaps, in the very stillness itself, but again, it may, perhaps, be +in the spoken word. It is in a tone, in a sigh, in a breath. It is +in a gesture, but if perhaps it may be in all which is hidden, it may +be, also, in all that is revealed--in _everything which one sees and +which one does not see_. + +Eleven o’clock! Where was Rouletabille? His bed had not been disturbed. +I dressed myself hurriedly and went to look for my friend, whom I found +in the outer court. He took me by the arm and led me into the vast +drawing room of “la Louve.” There, I was surprised to find, although it +was not yet time for luncheon, everybody assembled. M. and Mme. Darzac +were there. It seemed to me that M. Rance’s manner was rather frigid. +When he shook my hand in wishing me good morning, he barely touched +my fingers. As soon as we entered the room Mme. Edith, from the dark +corner where she was reclining carelessly on a sofa, saluted us with +the words: + +“Ah, here is M. Rouletabille with his friend, Sainclair. Now we shall +know why we have all been summoned here!” + +To this remark, Rouletabille responded by first excusing himself for +having requested us all to gather at so early an hour; but he had, he +went on to say, such a serious and important communication to make +to us that he had not wished to delay it one moment longer than was +absolutely necessary. His tone was so grave that Edith pretended to +shiver and counterfeited an infantile terror. But Rouletabille, without +noticing her, continued: “Before you shiver, Madame, wait until you +know what you have to be afraid of. I have some news for you which is +very far from pleasant.” + +We all looked at him, and then at each other! What was he about to say? +I endeavored to read in the faces of M. and Mme. Darzac what they +thought of the matter. Both showed remarkably little evidence of last +night’s horrors! But what was it that Rouletabille had to say to us? +He entreated those who were standing to be seated and then he began to +speak. He addressed himself to Mme. Rance. + +“First of all, Madame, permit me to inform you that I have decided to +suppress the ‘guard’ which surrounded the Château of Hercules, like an +inner wall, and which I judged necessary for the protection of M. and +Mme. Darzac and which you kindly allowed me to establish, although it +vexed you, showing the most charming of good humor and accommodating +spirit.” + +This direct allusion to the mocking remarks and innuendos of Mme. Edith +at the time when we mounted guard made Mr. Rance and his wife both +smile. But no smile arose to the lips of M. or Mme. Darzac nor myself, +for we had begun to ask ourselves anxiously what the boy was preparing +to say. + +“Ah, really, are you going to withdraw the guard from the château, +M. Rouletabille? Well, I am very glad to hear it, although I assure +you that it did not vex me in the least!” exclaimed Mme. Edith with +an affectation of gayety. “On the contrary, it has interested me very +much, because, you know, I am of a very romantic nature, and if I +rejoice at the change, it is because the fact proves to me that M. and +Mme. Darzac are no longer in any danger.” + +“This is true, Madame,” replied Rouletabille, “since last night.” + +Mme. Darzac could not refrain from a hasty movement which no one save +myself perceived. + +“So much the better!” cried Mme. Edith. “May Heaven be praised! +But how is it that my husband and I are the last to hear the news? +Interesting things must have been happening last night! The nocturnal +trip of M. Darzac to Castelar was one of them, without doubt!” + +As she spoke, I could see the embarrassment of M. and Mme. Darzac. The +former, after a glance at his wife, started to speak, but Rouletabille +would not permit him to do so. + +“Madame, I do not know where M. Darzac went last night, but it is +necessary that you should know one thing; and that is the reason why M. +and Mme. Darzac have ceased to run any danger. Your husband, Madame, +has told you of the frightful tragedy of the Glandier two years ago and +of the villainous part played in it by----” + +“Frederic Larsan--yes, monsieur, I know all that.” + +“You know also, of course, that the reason why we have placed such a +strong guard here around M. Darzac and his wife was because we had seen +this man again?” + +“I do.” + +“Well, M. and Mme. Darzac are no longer in danger because this man +cannot appear again ever.” + +“What has become of him?” + +“He is dead.” + +“When did he die?” + +“Last night.” + +“And how did he die last night?” + +“He was killed, madame.” + +“And where was he killed?” + +“In the Square Tower.” + +We all sprang to our feet at this declaration in the greatest +agitation. M. and Mme. Rance seemed completely stupefied by the words +which they had heard and M. and Mme. Darzac and myself were plunged +into the most profound agitation by the fact that Rouletabille had not +hesitated to reveal the secret. + +“In the Square Tower?” cried Mme. Edith. “And who, then, has killed +him?” + +“M. Robert Darzac,” replied Rouletabille. “And he entreats everyone to +sit down.” + +It was astonishing how we seated ourselves with one accord, as though, +at such a moment, we had nothing to do except to obey this youngster. +But almost immediately Mme. Edith arose and seizing M. Darzac by the +hand, she exclaimed with an emphasis which made me decide that I had +judged her wrongly when I called her affected: + +“Bravo, Monsieur Robert! All right! You are a gentleman!” + +Then she paid some exaggerated compliments--for after all, it was +her nature to exaggerate things--to Mme. Darzac. She swore eternal +friendship for her; she declared that she and her husband were ready, +under all circumstances, to stand by the Darzacs and that the latter +might count upon their zeal and their devotion and that they would +swear whatever one liked before all the judges in the tribunal. + +“Gently, dear Madame,” interrupted Rouletabille. “There is no question +of judges and we hope that there may not be. There’s no need of it. +Larsan was a dead man in the eyes of the whole world long before he was +killed last night--he will continue to be dead, that is all! We have +decided that it would be useless to reopen a scandal of which M. and +Mme. Darzac have already been made the innocent victims and we have +counted upon your assistance. The affair has happened in so mysterious +a fashion that even you, if we had not informed you in regard to it, +would never have suspected. But M. and Mme. Darzac are endowed with +sentiments too noble to permit them to forget what they owe to their +hosts. The most simple rules of hospitality ordered them to tell you +that they killed a man in your house last night. How foolish it would +be to lay bare this unfortunate story to some Italian police officer +and subject you to the inconvenience of having your names coupled with +the miserable business, and, it might easily be, to have a search made +of your house and hired servants of the law under your roof! M. and +Mme. Darzac, for your sakes alone, are anxious that you should not run +the risk of being the object of idle gossip, or, perhaps, of having the +police descend upon your home.” + +M. Arthur Rance, who up to this time had remained speechless, arose and +said, his face as pallid as though he had seen a ghost: + +“Frederic Larsan is dead. Well, so far so good, and no one is more +rejoiced than myself to know it. And if he has received the punishment +due to his crimes from the hand of M. Darzac, no one is more to be +congratulated than M. Darzac. But I consider that it would be wrong +for M. Darzac to make any attempt to conceal an act which is an honor +to himself. It would be better to inform the authorities and without +delay. If they should come to learn of this affair from others, rather +than by our means, think of what the situation would be! If we give out +the information ourselves, we shall show that an act of justice has +been committed. If we conceal anything, we shall place ourselves in +the category of malefactors. People might even suppose----” + +To listen to M. Rance’s stammering speech and to observe his demeanor, +one might almost have imagined that he was the slayer of Frederic +Larsan--he who was in danger of being accused of murder and dragged to +prison. + +“It is necessary to think of everything, gentlemen,” he concluded. And +Edith added: + +“I believe that my husband is right. But before we come to a decision, +we ought to know just what has happened.” + +And she addressed herself directly to M. and Mme. Darzac. But both of +the latter were still under the spell of surprise which Rouletabille +had caused them by his remarks--Rouletabille who that very morning, in +my presence, had promised to be silent and had sworn us all to silence. +Neither the one nor the other had a word to say. M. Rance repeated, +nervously: “Why should we conceal anything? Why should we? We must tell +everything.” + +All at once, the reporter seemed to take a sudden resolution. I +understood by the expressions which chased themselves over his face +in rapid succession that something of considerable moment was passing +through his mind. He leaned toward Arthur Rance, whose right hand was +resting on a cane, the head of which was carved in ivory, beautifully +cut by a famous carver at Dieppe. Rouletabille took the cane in his +hand. + +“May I look at it?” he asked. “I am an amateur ivory carver myself and +my friend, Sainclair, here, has told me about this beautiful cane. I +had not noticed it before. It is really very beautiful. It is a figure +by Lambesse and there is no better workman on the Norman shore.” + +The young man seemed to be entirely engrossed in studying the cane. As +he touched the carving, the stick fell from his hand and rolled toward +M. Darzac. I picked it up and returned it immediately to M. Rance. +Rouletabille cast a withering look at me, and I read in that glance +that, somehow or other, I had shown myself an idiot. + +Mme. Edith rose to her feet, tapping her little foot impatiently +and seemingly very nervous at the tension of the situation--by the +carelessness of Rouletabille and the silence of M. and Mme. Darzac. + +“Dearest,” she said to Mme. Darzac, in the sweetest tones. “You are +completely tired out. The experiences of this horrible night have +overpowered you. Let me take you into my own room so that you may rest +a little.” + +“Pardon me for asking you to wait a few moments, Madame,” interrupted +Rouletabille. “What I have yet to say may be of special interest to +you.” + +“Very well, monsieur, but speak out, please. Don’t drag the recital +along so.” + +She was perfectly justified in her remarks. Did Rouletabille realize +it? At all events, he certainly made up for his previous deliberation +by the rapidity and clearness with which he retraced the events of +the night. In no other words could the problem of the “body too many” +have been presented before us with such mysterious horror. Mme. Edith +shivered--and if her shudder was counterfeit, I never saw a real one! +As for Arthur Rance, he sat with his chin resting on the head of his +cane, murmuring with a truly American coolness, but in accents of the +strongest conviction: “What a devilish history! The story of the body +which could not have gotten into the room is a page from the notebook +of Satan himself!” + +While he was speaking, he was gazing at the tip of Mme. Darzac’s shoe +which peeped out from the hem of her gown. In the moment which followed +the closing of Rouletabille’s narration, conversation became a little +more general; but it was less a conversation than such a confused +mixture of exclamations and interruptions, of interjections and +indignation and demands for explanations on one point or another that +the confusion seemed more increased than ever before. They spoke also +of the horrible departure of “the body too many” in the potato sack, +and at this point, Mme. Edith took occasion to once more express her +admiration for M. Robert Darzac as a hero and a gentleman. Rouletabille +never opened his lips during this torrent of words. It was plain to +be seen that he despised this verbal manifestation of perturbation of +spirits, but he endured it with the air of a professor who permits a +few moments relaxation to pupils who have been well behaved in school. +This was a mannerism of his which often vexed me and with which I +sometimes reproached him, but without having any effect on him, for +Rouletabille was likely to give himself whatever airs he chose. + +At length--probably when it appeared to him that the recreation had +lasted long enough, he asked abruptly of Mrs. Rance: + +“Well, Madame, do you think we ought to inform the authorities?” + +“I think so more than ever,” she replied. “That which we are powerless +to discover, they would certainly find out.” (This allusion to the +intellectual incapacity of my friend left him profoundly indifferent). +“And I warn you of one thing, M. Rouletabille, and that is that we +may already be too late in seeking out the officers of justice. If we +had told them of our fears at the very beginning, you would have been +spared some long hours of watching and sleepless nights which have +profited you nothing, since, as now appears, they did not prevent what +you dreaded from coming to pass.” + +Rouletabille seated himself, evidently conquering some strong emotion +which made him tremble as though he were chilled to the bone. Then with +a wave of the hand which he strove to render careless, he motioned Mme. +Edith to a chair and again picked up the cane which M. Rance had laid +down upon a sofa. I said to myself: “What is he trying to do with that +stick? This time, I won’t touch it, I’m certain. I must keep a lookout.” + +Playing with the cane, Rouletabille replied to Mme. Edith with an +attack almost as sharp as her own. + +“Madame, you are wrong in asserting that all the precautions which I +had taken for the safety of M. and Mme. Darzac have been useless. If +I am obliged to acknowledge the unexplainable presence of one body +too many, I am also compelled to refer to the absence--perhaps less +inexplicable--of one member of our own party.” + +We stared at each other, some of us seeking to understand, the others +dreading to do so. + +“What is that?” inquired Mme. Edith, with a mocking little smile. “In +such a case, I fail to see how you find any mystery at all.” And she +added with a flippant imitation of the reporter’s words and manner: +“A body too many on the one side; an unexplained absence on the other! +Everything is for the best.” + +“Perhaps,” rejoined Rouletabille. “But the most frightful thing of +all is that the unexplained disappearance comes just at the right +time to make known to us, apparently, the identity of the ‘body too +many.’ Madame, I deeply regret to tell you that the person for whose +whereabouts we are unable to account, is none other than your uncle, +Monsieur Bob.” + +“Old Bob!” screamed the young woman. “Old Bob has disappeared!” + +And we all cried out with her: + +“Old Bob has disappeared?” + +“Unfortunately, it is true!” said Rouletabille. + +And he let the cane drop to the ground. + +But the news of the sudden disappearance of Old Bob had so seized the +Rances and the Darzacs that no one paid any attention to the cane as it +fell. + +“My dear Sainclair, will you be kind enough to pick up that cane?” +asked Rouletabille. + +I did as I was ordered and quickly, too, but Rouletabille did not even +deign to thank me. Mme. Edith turned like a lioness upon Robert Darzac, +who recoiled from her almost in fear as she shrieked: + +“You have killed my uncle!” + +Her husband and myself, with difficulty, prevented her from flying at +him. We entreated her to be calm and to remember that because her uncle +had absented himself from the peninsula did not necessarily mean that +he had disappeared in the potato sack and we reproached Rouletabille +with his brutality in blurting out an idea which could only be, at the +present time, at all events, an hypothesis of his uneasy mind. And we +added, imploring Mme. Edith to listen to us, that this hypothesis could +under no circumstances be looked upon by her either as an injury or an +insult, even admitting that it might be the true one, as it would only +show the superhuman cunning of Larsan, who must, in that case, have +taken the place of her respected uncle. But the young woman ordered her +husband to be quiet, and said, turning scornfully to me: + +“M. Sainclair, I sincerely hope that my uncle’s absence from here +will only be of short duration; for if it should turn out otherwise, +I should accuse you of being an accomplice in the most cowardly of +murders. As to you, monsieur,” and she turned to Rouletabille, “the +mere idea that you have ever dared to compare a man like Larsan with +my uncle, the gentlest, kindliest soul and the greatest scholar of his +time, forbids me to ever again consider you in the light of a friend, +and I hope that you will have the courtesy to relieve me of your +presence as soon as possible.” + +“Madame,” replied Rouletabille, bowing very low, “I was just about to +ask your permission to take leave of you. I have a short journey of +twenty-four hours to take. At the expiration of that time, I shall +return, ready to be of any possible assistance to you in whatever +difficulties may arise in accounting for the disappearance of your +uncle.” + +“If my uncle has not returned within twenty-four hours, I shall lodge a +complaint in the hands of the police, monsieur.” + +“It is a good plan, Madame; but before having recourse to it, +I advise you to question all the servants in whom you have +confidence--particularly Mattoni. You trust Mattoni, do you not?” + +“Yes, monsieur, I trust Mattoni.” + +“Well, then, Madame, question him--question him. Ah--before I take my +departure, allow me to leave with you this excellent and historical +book.” And Rouletabille drew a small volume from his pocket. + +“What foolery is this?” demanded Mme. Edith, superbly disdainful. + +“This, Madame, is a work of M. Albert Bataille, a copy of his ‘Civil +and Criminal Cases,’ in which I advise you to read the adventures, +disguises, travesties and deceptions wrought by an illustrious swindler +whose true name was Ballmeyer.” + +Rouletabille entirely ignored the fact that he had only the day before +spent two hours in recounting to Mme. Edith the exploits of Ballmeyer. + +“After having read this,” he went on, “ask yourself carefully whether +the cleverness of such an individual would have found very great +difficulty in presenting himself before your eyes under the guise of +an uncle whom you had not seen in four years--for it was four years, +Madame, since you had seen Old Bob, until that time that you started +out to the heart of the Pampas to look for him. As to the memory of +M. Arthur Rance, who started out with you on that journey, it would +be even less distinct than your own and he would be more capable of +being deceived than yourself with your intuition of kinship added to +your recollections of your relative. I implore you on my knees, Madame, +do not lose patience with us. The situation, Heaven knows, is grave +enough for each and every one of us. Let us remain united. You tell +me to rid you of my presence. I am going but I shall return; for if it +is necessary, taking everything into consideration, to arrive at the +intolerable conclusion that Larsan has assumed the name and likeness of +Monsieur Bob, it will remain for us only to seek Monsieur Bob himself, +in which case, Madame, I shall be at your disposal and your most humble +and obedient servant.” + +Mme. Edith assumed the attitude of an outraged tragedy queen and +Rouletabille, turning to Arthur Rance, continued: + +“For all that has happened, M. Rance, I make you my humblest excuses +and also to your wife. And I count upon you as the loyal gentleman that +you are and always have been to persuade her to have patience a little +longer. I realize that you feel that you have reason to reproach me +with having stated my hypothesis too quickly and too abruptly, but, +please remember, it is only a few moments since Madame reproached me +with being too slow.” + +But Arthur Rance seemed to have ceased to listen. He took his wife’s +arm and both moved toward the door and were about to leave the room +when the portals flew open and the stable boy, Walter, Old Bob’s +faithful servant, rushed into our midst. His clothing was torn, muddy +and covered with burs and thistles. Perspiration was streaming down +his forehead and cheeks, his hair was in disorder and his face wore +an expression of rage mingled with terror which made us fear some +new misfortune. He carried in his hand a dirty rag which he threw +upon the table. This repulsive object, stained with great blotches of +reddish brown was (as we divined immediately, recoiling from it in +horror) nothing other than the sack which had served to carry off the +mysterious body. + +With a harsh voice and savage gestures, Walter howled forth a thousand +incomprehensible things in his broken jumble of French and English and +all of us with the exception of Arthur Rance and Mme. Edith, asked each +other, “What is he saying? What is he saying?” + +Arthur Rance interrupted him from time to time, while Walter shook his +fists menacingly at the rest of us and cast fiery glances at Robert +Darzac. Once, for a moment, it seemed as though he intended to seize +Darzac by the throat, but a gesture from Mme. Edith restrained him. +When he finished speaking, Arthur Rance translated his words for us. + +“He says that this morning he noticed blood stains on the English cart +and saw that Toby seemed very greatly fatigued. This puzzled him so +much that he decided to speak of it at once to Old Bob, but he sought +his master in vain. Then, seized by a dark foreboding, he followed the +prints of the horse’s feet and the wheels of the vehicle which he could +easily do because the road was muddy and the wheels had sunk deep. +Finally he reached the old Castillon and noticed that the wheels led +up to a deep chasm into which he descended, believing that he should +find the body of his master; but he saw merely this empty sack which +may have contained the corpse of Old Bob, and now, having caught a ride +in a peasant’s wagon, he has returned to ask for his master, to learn +whether anyone has seen him, and, if he is not found, to accuse Robert +Darzac of having caused his death.” + +We stood confounded. But, to our great astonishment, Mme. Edith was the +first to recover her self-possession. She spoke a few words to Walter +which appeared to quiet him, promising him that she would soon bring +him face to face with Old Bob, who was perfectly safe and well. And she +said to Rouletabille: + +“You have twenty-four hours, Monsieur; make the best use of it.” + +“Thanks, Madame,” said Rouletabille. “But if your uncle should not +return in that time, it will be because my idea was correct.” + +“But where can he be!” she cried. + +“I cannot tell you, Madame. He is not in the sack now, at all events.” + +Mme. Edith cast a withering glance at him and left the room, followed +by her husband. The sight of the sack seemed to have stricken Robert +Darzac speechless. He had thrown the bag into an abyss and it was +brought back empty. After a moment’s pause, Rouletabille spoke: + +“Larsan is not dead, be sure of that! Never has the situation been so +frightful as it is to-day and I must hurry away at once. I have not +a minute to lose. Twenty-four hours--in twenty-four hours, I shall +be back. But promise me--swear to me, both of you, that you will not +quit the château. Swear to me, M. Darzac, that you will watch over +your wife--that you will prevent her from leaving these walls, even by +force, if it is necessary. Ah--and again--it is no longer necessary +that you should sleep in the Square Tower. No, you ought not to do +so. In the same wing where M. Stangerson is lodged, there are two +empty rooms. You must occupy them. It is absolutely necessary that you +should. Sainclair, you will see that this change is made. After my +departure, see that neither the one nor the other of them shall set +foot in the Square Tower. Adieu! Ah, wait!--let me embrace you--all +three.” + +He pressed us to his heart: M. Darzac first, then myself, and then, +falling into the arms of the Lady in Black, he burst into a passion of +sobs. This show of weakness and of grief on the part of Rouletabille, +in spite of the gravity of the circumstances of his departure, appeared +to me very strange. Alas! how easy it was for me to understand it +afterward! + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + THE SIGHS OF THE NIGHT + + +Two o’clock in the morning! Every person and every thing in the castle +seemed wrapped in slumber. Silence brooded over the heavens and the +earth. While I stood at my window, my forehead burning and my heart +frozen, the sea yielded its last sigh and in a moment the moon appeared +riding like a queen in the cloudless sky. Shadows no longer veiled +the stars of the night. There, in that vast, motionless slumber which +seemed to envelope all the world, I heard the words of the Lithuanian +folk song: “But his glance seeks in vain for the beautiful unknown who +has covered her head with a veil and whose voice he has never heard.” +The words were carried to my ear, clear and distinct, in the still air +of the night. Who had pronounced them? Was the voice that of a man or +a woman? or was the song only an hallucination evoked by my memories? +What should the Prince from the Black lands be doing on the Azure shore +with his Lithuanian melodies? And why should his image and his songs +pursue me thus? + +Why was Mme. Edith attracted toward him? He was ridiculous with his +melancholy eyes and his long lashes and his Lithuanian songs! And I--I +was ridiculous, too. Had I the heart of a college boy? I think not. +I would rather believe that the emotion which was excited in me by +the personality of Prince Galitch rose less from my knowledge of the +interest which Mme. Edith felt in him than from the thought of _that +other_. Yes, it was surely that. In my mind the thought of the +Prince and that of Larsan somehow went together. And the Prince had +not returned to the château since the famous luncheon at which he was +presented to us--that is to say since the day before yesterday. + +The afternoon following Rouletabille’s departure had brought us nothing +new. We received no news from him nor from Old Bob. Mme. Edith had +locked herself up in her own apartments, after having questioned the +domestics and visiting her uncle’s rooms and the Round Tower. She made +no effort to penetrate into the apartments of the Darzacs in the Square +Tower. “That is an affair for the police,” she had said. Arthur Rance +had walked for an hour on the western boulevard, his manner restless +and impatient. No one had spoken a word to me. Neither M. nor Mme. +Darzac had stirred out of “la Louve.” All of us had dined in our own +rooms. No one had seen Professor Stangerson. + + * * * * * + +And now, so far as the eye could see, everyone in the château seemed +to be lost in dreams. But a shadow appeared on the bosom of the starry +night--the shadow of a canoe which slowly detached itself from the +shadow of the fort and glided out upon the silvery water. Whose is this +silhouette, which arises proudly in the front of the boat while another +shade bends over a silent oar? It is yours, Feodor Feodorowitch! Ah, +here is a mystery which might be easier to solve than that of the +Square Tower, O Rouletabille! And I who believed that Mme. Edith had +too good a brain and too fine a mind to lend herself to a vulgar +intrigue! + +What a hypocrite is the night! Everything seems to sleep and all +the while slumber is far from all eyes! Who was there that might +be sleeping among those in the château of Hercules? Was Mme. Edith +sleeping, perhaps? Or M. or Mme. Darzac? And how could M. Stangerson, +who seemed to have been slumbering all day, be dreaming away the night +also?--he whose couch, ever since the revelation of the Glandier, had +not ceased to be haunted by the pale ghost of insomnia? And I--could I +sleep? + +I left my bedchamber and went down into the court of the Bold and my +feet bore me rapidly over to the boulevard of the Round Tower--so +rapidly that I arrived there in time to see the bark of Prince Galitch +landing on the strand in front of the “Gardens of Babylon.” He leaped +out of the boat and his man, having picked up the oars, followed. I +recognized the master and servant. It was Feodor Feodorowitch and his +serf, Jean. A few seconds later, they disappeared in the protecting +shade of the century plants and the giant eucalypti. + +I turned and walked around the boulevard of the court. And then my +heart beating wildly, I directed my steps toward the outer court. The +stone slabs of the walks resounded under my tread and I seemed to see +a form arise in a listening attitude from beneath the arch of the +ruined chapel. I paused in the thick darkness of the shadow cast by +the gardener’s tower and drew my revolver from my pocket. The form did +not move. Was it really a human creature who stood there listening? +I glided behind a hedge of vervain which bordered the path that led +directly to “la Louve” through bushes and thickets, heavy with the +perfume of the flowers of the spring. I had made no noise, and the +shadow, doubtless reassured, made a slight movement. It was the Lady in +Black. The moon, under the half ruined arch, showed me that she was as +pale as death. And suddenly her figure vanished as if by enchantment. I +approached the chapel and as I diminished the space which lay between +me and the ruins, I heard a soft murmur of words mingled with such +bitter sobs that my own eyes grew moist as I listened. The Lady in +Black was weeping there behind that pillar. Was she alone? Had she +not chosen in this night of anguish to come to this altar decked with +flowers there to pour out her prayers in solitude to the balmy air? + +Suddenly I perceived a shadow beside the Lady in Black and I recognized +Robert Darzac. From the corner where I was I could now hear all that +they were saying. I knew that my behavior in listening was degraded +and shameless, but, curiously enough, it was borne upon me that it was +my duty to listen. Now I thought no longer of Edith and her Prince +Galitch. I thought only of Larsan. Why? Why was it on account of Larsan +that I bent my ears so anxiously to hear all that went on between those +two? I learned from their words that Mathilde had descended stealthily +from la Louve to be alone in the garden with her agony and that her +husband had followed her. The Lady in Black was weeping. And she took +Robert Darzac’s hands and said to him: + +“I know, dear--I know all your grief. You need not speak of it to me +when I see you so changed--so wretched! I accuse myself of being the +cause of your sorrow. But do not tell me that I no longer love you. Oh, +I will love you dearly, Robert--just as I have always done. I promise +you.” + +And she seemed to sink into a deep fit of thought, while he, almost +as though incredulous, still stood as though he were listening to +her. In a moment, she looked up again and repeated in a tone of firm +conviction: “Yes--I promise you.” + +She pressed his hand and turned away, casting upon him a smile so +sweet and yet so sorrowful that I wondered how this woman could speak +to a man of future happiness. She brushed past me without seeing me. +She passed with her perfume and I no longer smelled the laurel bushes +behind which I was hidden. + +M. Darzac remained standing in the same spot, looking after her. +Suddenly he said aloud with a violence which startled me: + +“Yes, happiness must come! It must!” + +Assuredly, he was at the end of his patience. And before withdrawing +in his turn, he made a gesture of protest--against fate, it seemed to +me--a gesture of defiance to destiny--a gesture which snatched the Lady +in Black through the space which divided them and caught her to his +breast and held her there. + +He had scarcely made this gesture when my thought took form--my thought +which had been wandering about Larsan stopped at Darzac. Oh, how well I +remember that instant! The fancy was gone in a moment, but as I beheld +gesture of defiance and rapture, I dared to say to myself, “If HE +should be Larsan!” + +And in looking back to the depths of my memory, I realize now that my +thought was even stronger than that. To the gesture of this man, my +mind answered with the cry, “This is Larsan!” + +I was white with terror and when I saw Robert Darzac coming in my +direction, I could not refrain from a movement which revealed my +presence while I was trying to conceal it. He saw me and recognized me, +and, grasping me by the arm, he exclaimed: + +“You were there, Sainclair: you were watching. We are all watching, my +friend. And you heard what she said. Sainclair, her grief is too great. +I can bear no more. We would have been so happy. She began to believe +that misfortune had forgotten her when that man reappeared. Then all +was finished; she had no longer strength to desire love or to feel it. +She is bowed down by destiny. She imagines that she is to be pursued by +eternal punishment. It was necessary for the frightful tragedy of last +night to prove to me that this woman did love me--once. Yes, for one +moment, all her fears were for me--and I, alas, have blood on my hands +only because of her. Now she has returned to her old indifference. She +cares no longer--her only desire is that the old man shall be kept in +ignorance.” + +He sighed so sorrowfully and so sincerely that the abominable idea +which it had harbored fled from my mind. I thought only of what he +was saying to me--of the sorrow of this man who seemed to have lost +completely the woman whom he loved in the moment when the woman had +found a son of whose existence the husband continued to be ignorant. In +fact, he had in no way been able to understand the attitude of the Lady +in Black as regards the facility with which she had detached herself +from him--and he found no explanation for this cruel metamorphosis +other than the love heightened by remorse of Professor Stangerson’s +daughter for her father. + +“What good did it do me to kill him?” groaned M. Darzac. “Why did I +fire the shot? Why did she impose upon me such a criminal, horrible +silence if she did not intend to recompense me for it by her love? Did +she fear arrest for me? Ah, no! Not even that, Sainclair, not even +that! She fears only the agony of her father and the danger that he +will succumb entirely under this new disgrace. Her father! Always her +father! I do not exist for her. I have loved her for twenty years and +when I believe at last that I have won her, the thought of her father +takes my place.” + +And I said to myself: “The thought of her father--and of her child.” + +He seated himself on an old moss grown boulder by the chapel and said +again, as if speaking to himself: “But I will snatch her away from this +place--I cannot see her roaming about on the arm of her father--as if I +were not in the world.” + +And, while he said this, I looked up and I fancied that I beheld the +shadow of the father and the daughter passing and repassing in the +dawn, beneath the sombre height of the Tower of the North, and I +likened them in my mind to the old Oedipus and his daughter, Antigone, +walking under the walls of Colone, dragging with them the weight of a +grief beyond human endurance. + +And then suddenly, without my being able to recall myself to reason, +perhaps because Darzac made again the gesture which had startled me +before, the same frightful fancy assailed me, and I demanded: + +“How did it happen that the sack was empty?” + +He was not in the least confused or taken aback. He replied simply: + +“Rouletabille must tell us that.” Then he pressed my hand and wandered +away through the undergrowth of the garden. I looked after him and said +to myself: + +“I have gone mad!” + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + DISCOVERY OF “AUSTRALIA” + + +The moon was shining full on his face. He believed himself to be alone +in the night and certainly it was one of the moments in which he would +cast aside the mask of the day. First the black glasses had ceased to +shade his eyes. And if his figure, during the hours of disguise, was +more bent than nature had made it, if his shoulders were rounded by +pretense instead of study, this was the moment when the magnificent +body of Larsan, away from all observers, must relax itself. Would it +relax now? I hid in the ditch behind the barberry hedge. Not one of his +movements escaped me. + +Now he was standing erect upon the western boulevard which looked like +a pedestal beneath his feet; the rays of the moon enveloped him with +a cold and mournful light. Is it you, Darzac? or your spectre? or the +ghost of Larsan, come back from the house of the dead? + +I felt that I had gone mad. What a piteous state was ours--all of us +madmen! We saw Larsan everywhere, and, perhaps, Darzac himself might +more than once have gazed at me, Sainclair, saying to himself: “Suppose +that he were Larsan!” More than--once! I speak as though it were years +since we had been locked up in the château and it was now just four +days. We came here on the eighth of April in the evening. + +It is true that my heart had never beaten so wildly when I had asked +myself the same terrible question about the others; perhaps, because +it was less terrible when there was question of any of the others. And +then, how strange that such a thought should have come to me! Instead +of my spirit recoiling in affright before the black abyss of such an +incredible hypothesis, it was, on the contrary, attracted, enchained, +horribly bewitched by it. It was as though struck with vertigo which +it could do nothing to evade. It glued my eyes to that figure standing +upon the western boulevard, making me find the attitudes, the gestures, +a strong resemblance from the rear--and then, the profile--and even the +face. Yes, all--all. He did look like Larsan. Yes, but just as strongly +did the face and figure resemble Darzac. + +How was it that this idea had come to me that night for the first time? +Now that I thought of it--it should have been our first hypothesis of +all. Was it not true that, at the time of “The Mystery of the Yellow +Room,” the silhouette of Larsan had been confounded at the moment of +the crime with that of Darzac? Was it not true that the man who was +believed to be Darzac, who had come to inquire for Mlle. Stangerson’s +answer at Post Office Box No. 40, had really been Larsan himself? Was +it not true that this emperor of disguises had already undertaken with +success to appear to be Darzac?--and to such good purpose that Mlle. +Stangerson’s fiancé had been accused of being the perpetrator of the +crimes committed by the other? + +It was true--all true--and yet when I ordered my restless heart to +be quiet and listen to reason, I knew that my hypothesis was absurd. +Absurd? Why? Look at him there, the ghost of Larsan which strides +along with long paces like those of the monster! Yes, but the shoulders +are those of Darzac. + +I say absurd because anyone who was not Darzac might have passed for +him in the shade and the mystery that surrounded the drama of the +Glandier. But here we have lived with the man. We have talked with +him--touched him. + +We have lived with him? No! + +To begin with, he was rarely there among us. Always locked in his own +room or bending over that useless work in the Tower of the Bold. A fine +pretext, that of drawing, to prevent anyone’s seeing your face and to +make it appear natural to answer questions without turning the head! + +But he was not drawing all the time! Yes, but at other times, always, +except to-night, he wore his dark glasses. Ah! that accident in the +laboratory had been well contrived. That little lamp which exploded +knew--I have always thought so, it seems to me--the service which it +was going to do for Larsan when Larsan should have taken the place of +Darzac. It permitted him to evade always and everywhere the full light +of day--because of the weakness of his eyes. How then! Was it not +always Mlle. Stangerson or Rouletabille who had managed to find dark +corners where M. Darzac’s eyes could not be exposed to the sun? But, +lately, he himself, more than anyone else now that I reflected upon it, +had been careful to keep in the shadow--we have seen him seldom and +always in the shadow. That little “hall of counsel” was very dark, “la +Louve” was dark, and he had chosen the two rooms in the Square Tower +which are plunged in semi-darkness. + +But still--still--Rouletabille could not be deceived like that--even +for three days. But, as the lad himself said, Larsan was born before +Rouletabille and was his father. + +And suddenly there recurred to my mind the first act of Darzac when he +came to meet us at Cannes and entered our compartment with us. He drew +the curtain. The shadow--always the shadow! + +The figure on the western boulevard is still standing there. I can look +him full in the face. No spectacles now! He was not moving. He stood +as if he were posing for a photograph. Do not stir! There! that is he! +Yes, it is Robert Darzac--only Robert Darzac! + +He began to walk again--I was certain no longer. There is something in +his walk which is not Darzac’s--something in which I seem to recognize +Larsan--but what? + +Yes, Rouletabille must have seen! And yet--Rouletabille reasons more +often than he looks! And has he ever had a chance to look at him like +this? + +No! We must not forget that Darzac went to spend three months in the +Midi--That is true! Ah, what might not have happened in that time! +Three months during which none of us saw him. He went away ill; he +returned almost well. There could be nothing astonishing in the fact +that a man’s appearance should be changed when he went away with the +look of a dead man and returned with the look of one living and strong! + +And the wedding had taken place immediately after that. How little any +of us had seen of him before the ceremony! And, besides, a week had not +yet elapsed since the marriage. A Larsan could easily wear his mask for +so short a time. + +The man--was it Darzac or was it Larsan?--descended from his pedestal +and came straight toward me. Had he seen me? I crouched down behind my +barberries. + +(Three months of absence during which Larsan might have had a chance to +study every gesture, every mannerism of Darzac! And then--how easy to +put Darzac out of the way and to take his place and his bride! Not a +difficult trick--for a Larsan!) + +The voice? What more easy than to imitate the voice of a native of the +Midi? One has a little more or a little less of accent than the other, +that is all. Occasionally I have fancied that _his_ accent was a +little stronger than before the wedding. + +He was almost upon me. He passed by. He had not seen me. + +“It is Larsan! I could swear that it was Larsan!” + +But he paused for a second and gazed sorrowfully upon all nature +slumbering around him--him whose suffering was in loneliness and +solitude, and a groan escaped his lips, unhappy soul that he was! + +“It is Darzac!” + +And then he was gone--and I remained there behind my hedge overwhelmed +with the horror of the thought which I had dared to harbor. + + * * * * * + +How long did I remain thus, lying on the ground? One hour? Two? When +I arose, I was so stiff that I could scarcely stir and my mind was +as worn out as my body--worn out and distracted. In the course of +my unthinkable hypotheses, I had even gone so far as to ask myself +whether, by chance (by chance!) the Larsan who had been in the +potato sack had not succeeded in substituting himself for Darzac who +had carried him off in the little English cart with Toby drawing it, +meaning to throw him into the gulf of Castillon. I could picture the +body of the victim rising up suddenly and ordering M. Darzac to take +its place. So far from all reason had my wild supposition driven +me, that in order to drive away from my mind this ridiculous idea, +I was compelled to recall word by word a private conversation that +had occurred between M. Darzac and myself that morning when we went +out from the terrible session in the Square Tower at which had been +so clearly presented the problem of the “body too many.” In this +conversation, I had received an absolute proof of the impossibility of +my supposition. I had, while we talked, proposed to M. Darzac a few +questions in relation to Prince Galitch, whose image would not cease +to pursue me, and my friend had answered by making allusion to another +conversation, involving certain scientific facts, which had taken +place between us the night previous, and which could not possibly have +been heard by any other person than our two selves and which had also +concerned Prince Galitch. On this account, there could be no real doubt +in my mind that the Darzac whom I had talked with in the garden was +none other than the same man I had seen the evening before. + +As senseless as was the idea of this substitution, it was, +nevertheless, in a certain degree, pardonable. Rouletabille was a +little to blame for it by his fashion of talking of Larsan as a very +god of metamorphosis. And after casting it aside, I returned to the +sole possible idea under which Larsan could have taken the place of +Darzac--the idea of a substitution before the marriage ceremony at +the time when Mlle. Stangerson’s fiancé returned to Paris after three +months absence in the Midi. + +The despairing plaint which Robert Darzac, believing himself alone, had +allowed to escape his lips only a little while before, in my hearing, +could not entirely banish this supposition from my head. I saw him +again entering the church of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet, in which parish +he had requested that the wedding should take place--perhaps, thought +I, because there is no darker nor more gloomy church in all Paris. + +Ah, one’s fancy plays strange tricks on a moonlight night, when one +is lurking behind a barberry hedge, with a mind and brain filled with +Larsan! + +“I am a veritable imbecile!” I told myself, beginning to wish that I +were in the quiet little room in the New Castle, where my undisturbed +bed awaited me. “For if Larsan had been masquerading as Darzac, he +would have been satisfied with carrying off Mathilde and he would not +have reappeared in his own likeness to frighten her and he would not +have brought her to the Château of Hercules and he would not have +committed the foolhardy act of showing himself again in the bark of +Tullio. For at that moment, Mathilde belonged to him and it was from +that moment that she had cast him off. The reappearance of Larsan had +divided the Lady in Black from Darzac, and, therefore, Darzac could not +be Larsan.” + +Dear Heaven, how my head ached! It was the moonlight above which must +have turned my brain--I was moonstruck. + +And then, too, had not _he_ appeared to Arthur Rance himself in +the gardens at Mentone after he had accompanied Darzac to the train +which had taken him to Cannes, where he met us. If Arthur Rance had +spoken the truth, I might go to my couch in tranquility. And why should +he have lied?--Arthur Rance who had been in love with the Lady in Black +and who had not ceased to love her. Mme. Edith was not a fool--she knew +that Mme. Darzac still held the heart of the young American. Well, it +was time for me to go to bed! + + * * * * * + +I was still beneath the arch of the gardener’s postern and I was just +about to enter the Court of the Bold when it seemed to me that I heard +something moving--it sounded as though a door might have been closed. +Then there was a sound as of wood striking on iron. I thrust my head +out from under the arch and I believed that I could see the shadow of a +person near the door of the New Castle--a shadow which somehow seemed +to mingle with that of the castle itself. I snatched my revolver from +my pocket and with three steps was at the place where I believed I had +seen the shape. But it was there no longer. I could see nothing but +darkness. The door of the castle was closed and I was certain that +I had left it open. I was disturbed and anxious. I felt that I was +not alone--who, then, could be near me? Evidently if that shadow had +existed elsewhere than in my imagination, it could have vanished only +within the New Castle or must still be in the court. + +And the court was deserted. + +I listened attentively for more than five minutes without making the +slightest sound. Nothing! I must have been mistaken. But, nevertheless, +I did not even strike a match, and as silently as I could, I ascended +the staircase which led to my chamber. When I reached it, I locked +myself in and only then began to breathe freely. + +This vision or whatever it had been continued to disturb me more than I +was willing to confess to myself, and even after I had gotten into bed +I could not sleep. Without my being able to account for it at all this +vision and the thought of Darzac-Larsan began to mingle strangely in my +restless spirit. + +The effect on my mind was so strong that, at last, I said to myself: “I +shall never know peace again until I am certain that M. Darzac is not +Larsan. And I shall take means to make myself certain, one way or the +other, on the first occasion.” + +Yes, but how? Pull his beard off? If my suspicion was baseless, +he would take me for a madman, or else he would guess what I was +thinking of and such a knowledge would add yet another to the load of +misfortunes, already too heavy for him to bear. Only this misery was +lacking to him still--to know that he was suspected of being Larsan. + +Suddenly I threw off the bedclothes, jumped up and cried almost aloud: + +“Australia!” + +An episode had returned to my mind of which I have spoken at the +beginning of this story. The reader may remember that, at the time of +the accident in the laboratory, I had accompanied M. Robert Darzac to +a druggist. While his injuries were being attended to, he had been +obliged to remove his study coat, and the sleeve of his shirt had +fallen back, leaving his arm bare through the entire session with +the druggist, and placing in full view just above the right elbow, a +large birth mark, the shape of which resembled that of Australia as +it appears on the maps in the geographies. Mentally, while the chemist +was at work, I had amused myself by trying to locate upon the arm in +the positions which they occupied on an actual map, the cities of +Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, etc.; and directly beneath this large +mark, there was another smaller one which was situated like the country +known as Tasmania. + +And when, by any chance, the thought of that accident had happened +to recur to my mind, I had always thought of the half hour at the +chemist’s and the birthmark shaped like the outlines of Australia. + +And in this sleepless night, it was the thought of Australia that came +to me. + +Seated on the edge of my bed, I had scarcely had time to congratulate +myself upon having found a means to prove decisively the identity +of Robert Darzac and to try to devise some way of bringing it to an +immediate test, when a singular sound made me prick up my ears. The +sound was repeated--one would have said that gravel was cracking +beneath slow and cautious footsteps. + +Breathless, I hurried to my door and, with my ear at the keyhole, +I listened. Silence for a moment and then once more the same +sound--footsteps, beyond a doubt. Someone was now ascending the +staircase--and someone who desired his presence to be unknown. I +thought of the shadow which I had believed I saw as I was entering the +Court of the Bold--whose could this shadow be and what was it doing on +the staircase? Was it coming up or going down? + +Silence again! I profited by it to hastily don my trousers and, armed +with my revolver, I succeeded in opening my door without letting it +creak on its hinges. Holding my breath, I advanced to the head of the +stairs and waited. I have told of the state of dilapidation of the New +Castle. The pale rays of the moonlight entered obliquely through the +high windows which opened at each landing, cutting with exact squares +of soft light the black darkness of the stairway which was very wide +and high. The ruined condition of the château, thus lighted up in +spots, only appeared more complete. The broken balustrade and railings +of the staircase, the walls overrun with lizards over which here and +there hung floating rags of once priceless tapestry--all these things +which I had scarcely noticed in the daylight, struck me strangely in +this lonely night and my whirling brain felt quite prepared to find +in this gloomy scene the fit setting for the appearance of a phantom. +Indeed and in truth, I was afraid. The shadow which I had seen a little +while ago had practically slipped between my fingers--for I had been +near enough to have touched it. But, surely a phantom might walk in an +empty house without making any sound. Though the footsteps were silent +now! + +All at once, as I was leaning on the broken balustrade, I saw the +shadow again--it was lighted up by the moonbeams as though it were a +flambeau. And I recognized Robert Darzac. + +He had reached the ground floor, and, crossing the vestibule, raised +his head and looked in my direction as though he felt the weight of my +eyes upon him. Instinctively, I drew back. And then I returned to my +post of observation just in time to see him disappear into a corridor +which led to another staircase winding up to the battlements. What +could this mean? Was Robert Darzac spending the night in the New +Castle? Why did he take such precautions not to be seen? A thousand +suspicions crossed my mind--or rather all the terrible thoughts that +had come to haunt me since we had been in the Fort of Hercules seized +me again in their grasp and I felt that I must set my spirit at rest, +immediately. I must follow Robert Darzac and discover “Australia.” + +I had reached the corridor almost as soon as he quitted it and I +saw him beginning to climb very quietly the moth eaten wood of the +stairway. I saw him pause at the first landing and push open a door. +Then I saw nothing more. He had been swallowed up by the darkness--and, +perhaps, by the room of which he had opened the door. I reached this +door and finding it locked, I gave three little taps, certain that he +was inside. And I waited. My heart was beating wildly. All these rooms +were uninhabited--abandoned. What should M. Darzac be doing in one of +these haunted chambers! + +I waited for a few moments which seemed to me like hours and as no one +answered and the door did not open, I knocked again and waited again. +Then the door was opened and I heard Darzac’s voice saying: + +“Is it you, Sainclair? What is it, my friend?” + +“I wanted to know what you could be doing here at such an hour?” I +replied, and it seemed to me that my voice was that of another man, so +great was my terror. + +Tranquilly, he struck a match and said: + +“You see. I am preparing for bed.” + +And he lit a candle which was placed on a chair, for there was no night +stand in this dilapidated apartment. A bed in one corner--an iron bed +which must have been brought there during the day, and a single chair, +comprised all the furnishings. + +“I thought that you were going to sleep near Mme. Darzac and the +Professor on the first floor of ‘la Louve’?” + +“The rooms are too small. I was afraid of inconveniencing Mme. Darzac,” +answered the unhappy man, bitterly. “I asked Bernier to fetch me a bed +here. And then what difference does it make where I am, since I do not +sleep?” + +We were both silent for a moment. I was ashamed of myself and of my +wretched suspicions. And, frankly, my remorse was so great that I could +not refrain from giving it expression. I confessed everything to him; +my infamous ideas and how I had even believed when I saw him wandering +so mysteriously over the New Castle that it was upon some evil errand; +and so had decided to go and look for the “Australia” birthmark. For I +did not conceal from him that for a moment, I had placed all my hopes +upon the Australia. + +He listened to me with such an expression of reproachful sorrow that it +wrung my heart; then he quietly rolled up his shirt sleeve and bringing +his bare arm close to the light, he showed me the birthmark, which made +a sane man of me once more. I did not wish to look at it, but he even +insisted upon my touching it and I knew beyond a doubt that it was a +natural scar upon which one might place little dots with the names of +the cities, “Sydney,” “Melbourne,” “Adelaide.” And beneath it there was +another little blotch shaped like Tasmania. + +“You may rub it as much as you choose,” said Darzac, gently, “It will +not come off.” + +I begged his pardon a thousand times over, with tears in my eyes, but +he would not forgive me until he had made me pull at his beard which +remained firmly attached to his chin, instead of coming off in my hand. + +Then, only, he allowed me to go back to my room, which I did, cursing +myself for an idiot. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + OLD BOB’S TERRIBLE ADVENTURE + + +When I awakened my thoughts were still dwelling on Larsan. And, in +truth, I did not know what to think either of myself or any other +person--of Larsan’s death or of his life. Had he been wounded less +seriously than we had thought? Or shall I say, “Was he _less dead_ +than we had thought?” Had he been able to extricate himself from +the sack which Darzac had cast in the gulf of Castillon? After all, +the thing was not impossible, or, rather, the possibility was not +altogether without the bounds of what might be looked for from the +superhuman cunning and prowess of a Larsan--particularly since Walter +had explained that he had found the sack three meters from the mouth +of the abyss upon a natural landing place the existence of which M. +Darzac assuredly did not suspect when he believed that he was throwing +Larsan’s body into the orifice. + +My second thoughts turned to Rouletabille. What was he doing now? Why +had he gone away? Never had his presence at the Fort of Hercules been +so necessary as now. If he delayed his return, this day could scarcely +pass without bringing the unfriendly feeling between the Rances and the +Darzacs to an open issue. + +As I lay there puzzling my brain over the outcome of the affair, I +heard someone knocking at my door. It was Pere Bernier, who brought me +a brief note from my friend which had been handed to Pere Jacques by a +little lad from the village. Rouletabille wrote: “I shall return early +in the morning. Get up as soon as this reaches you and be good enough +to go fishing for my breakfast and catch some of the fine trout which +are so plentiful among the rocks near the Point of Garibaldi. Do not +lose an instant. Thanks and remembrances.--ROULETABILLE.” + +This communication gave me more food for thought, for I knew by +experience that whenever Rouletabille seemed most occupied with trivial +matters, his activity was really most thoroughly engaged with important +subjects. + +I dressed myself in haste, provided myself with some old tackle which +was furnished me by Bernier, and set out to obey the request of my +young friend. As I went out of the North gate, having encountered +nobody at that early hour of the morning (it was about seven o’clock), +I was joined by Mme. Edith, to whom I showed what Rouletabille had +written. The young woman was greatly dejected over the unexplained +absence of her uncle, remarked that the letter was “so queer that it +made her nervous,” and she informed me that she intended to follow me +to the trout streams. On the way, she confided to me the fact that +her uncle had not an enemy in the world, so far as she knew, and she +said that she had been hoping against hope that he would yet return +and that everything would be satisfactorily explained, but now the +idea had entered her brain that by some frightful mistake, Old Bob had +fallen a victim to the vengeance of Darzac and she was nearly wild with +apprehension. + +And she added, between her pretty teeth, a few words of contempt and +wrath for the Lady in Black. “My patience can hold out until noon, I +hope!” she said, and then was silent. + +We started to fish for Rouletabille’s trout. Mrs. Rance and I both +removed our shoes and stockings, but I concerned myself more about +the dainty bare feet of my pretty hostess than about my own. The fact +is, that Edith’s feet, as I discovered in the Bay of Hercules, were +as beautifully shaped and pink as flowers and they made me forget the +trout of my poor Rouletabille to such an extent that he must certainly +have gone without his breakfast if Edith had not shown more energy than +I. She clambered into the pools and crept among the rocks with a grace +which enchanted me more than I dared express. Suddenly we both desisted +from our task and pricked up our ears at the same moment. We heard +cries from the shore where the grottoes are. Upon the very threshold +of the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet we distinguished a little group, the +persons in which were making gestures of appeal. Urged on by the same +presentiment, we hastily rushed to the beach and in a few seconds we +learned that, attracted by moans, two fishermen had just discovered in +a cave in the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet an unfortunate human being who +had fallen into the chasm and who must have been there helpless for +several hours. + +The quick conjecture which rushed into both our minds at once proved to +be the right one. It was Old Bob who had been fished out of the cave. +When he had been drawn up on the beach in the full light of day, he +certainly presented a pitiable spectacle. His beautiful black coat was +torn and covered with mud and his white shirt was as black as tar. Mme. +Edith burst into tears and nearly went into hysterics when she found +that the old man had a broken collar bone and a sprained foot. And he +was so pale that he looked as if he were going to die on the spot. + +Happily, the case was far less serious than it at first appeared. Ten +minutes later he was, according to his own orders, stretched out on +his bed in his room in the Square Tower. But could anyone believe that +he absolutely refused to be undressed, even so far as to have his coat +removed, before the arrival of the doctors? Mme. Edith, more and more +nervous, installed herself as his nurse; but when the physicians came, +Old Bob ordered his niece not only to leave his room but to go out of +the Square Tower altogether. And he insisted that the door should be +locked after her. + +This last precaution was a great surprise to us all. We were assembled +in the Court of the Bold, M. and Mme. Darzac, M. Arthur Rance and +myself, as well as Pere Bernier who haunted my footsteps, awaiting +the news. When Mme. Edith quitted the tower after the arrival of the +medical men, she came to us and said: + +“Let us hope that his injuries won’t be serious. Old Bob is solid as a +rock. What did I tell you about him? I have made his confess, the old +sinner! He was trying to steal Prince Galitch’s skull which he believed +to be more ancient than his own. Just the jealousy of one savant toward +another. We shall all laugh at him when he is cured!” + +At that moment the door of the Square Tower opened and Walter, Old +Bob’s faithful servant, appeared. His face was pale and he seemed very +nervous. + +“Oh, Miss Edith!” he cried out. “He is covered with blood! He doesn’t +want anything to be said about it, but he must be saved----” + +Edith had already rushed into the Square Tower. As to us we dared not +utter a word. Soon the young woman returned. + +“Oh!” she sobbed. “It is frightful. His whole breast is torn open!” + +I started to offer her the support of my arm, for, strangely enough +M. Arthur Rance had withdrawn to some distance and was walking upon +the boulevard, whistling and with his hands behind his back. I tried +to comfort and to soothe Mme. Edith, but neither M. nor Mme. Darzac +uttered a word. + + * * * * * + +Rouletabille reached the castle about an hour after these events. I +watched for his return from the highest part of the western boulevard +and as soon as I saw his form appearing in the distance I hurried to +meet him. He cut short my demands for an explanation and asked me +immediately if I had made a good catch, but I was not at all deceived +by the expression of his countenance, and wishing to reply to him in +his own style of banter, I replied: + +“Oh, yes: a very good catch. I fished up Old Bob.” + +He started violently. I shrugged my shoulders, for I believed that he +was counterfeiting surprise, and I went on: + +“Oh, go on! You knew very well what kind of fish I should find when you +sent your message!” + +He fixed an astonished glance on me. + +“You certainly must be unaware of the purport of your words, my dear +Sainclair, or else you would have spared me the trouble of protesting +against such an accusation.” + +“What accusation?” I cried. + +“That of having left Old Bob in the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet, knowing +that he might be dying there.” + +“Oh, nonsense!” I cried. “Old Bob is far from dying. He has a sprained +foot and a broken collar bone, and his story of his misfortune is +perfectly plain and straightforward. He declares that he was trying to +steal Prince Galitch’s skull.” + +“What a funny idea!” exclaimed Rouletabille, bursting out laughing. He +leaned toward me and looked full into my eyes. + +“Do you believe that story? And--and that is all? No other injuries?” + +“Yes,” I replied. “There is another injury, but the doctors declare +that it is not at all serious. He has a wound in the breast.” + +“A wound in the breast!” repeated Rouletabille, touching my hand, +nervously. “And how was this wound made?” + +“We do not know. None of us have seen it. Old Bob is strangely modest. +He would not even permit his coat to be taken off in our presence; and +the coat hid the wound so well that we should never have suspected it +was there if Walter had not come to tell us, frightened at the sight of +the blood.” + +As soon as we came to the château, we encountered Mme. Edith, who +appeared to have been watching for us. + +“My uncle won’t have me near him,” she said, regarding Rouletabille +with an air of anxiety different from anything I had ever noticed in +her before. “It’s incomprehensible!” + +“Ah, Madame,” replied the reporter, making a low bow to his hostess. “I +assure you that nothing in the world is incomprehensible, when one is +willing to take a little trouble to understand it.” And he offered her +his congratulations upon having had her uncle restored to her at the +moment when she was ready to despair of ever seeing him again. + +Mme. Edith seemed about to inquire into the purport of the enigmatical +words at the beginning of my friend’s remarks when we were joined by +Prince Galitch. He had come to ask for news of his old friend, Bob, of +whose misfortune he had learned. Mme. Edith reassured him as to her +uncle’s condition and entreated the Prince to pardon her relative for +his too excessive devotion to the “oldest skulls in the history of +humanity.” The Prince smiled graciously and with the utmost kindliness +when he was told that Old Bob had been attempting to steal his skull. + +“You will find your skull,” Mrs. Rance told him, “in the bottom of the +cave in the grotto where it rolled down with him. Your collection will +be unimpaired, Prince.” + +The Prince asked for the details. He seemed very curious about the +affair. And Mme. Edith told how her uncle had acknowledged to her +that he had quitted the Fort of Hercules by way of the air shaft +which communicated with the sea. As soon as she said this, I recalled +the experience of Rouletabille with the flask of water and also the +close iron bars, and the falsehoods which Old Bob had uttered assumed +gigantic proportions in my mind, and I was sure that the rest of the +party must hold the same opinion as myself. Mme. Edith told us that +Tullio had been waiting with his boat at the opening of the gallery +abutting on the shaft, to row the old savant to the bank in front of +the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet. + +“Why so many twists and turnings when it was so simple to go out by the +gate?” I could not restrain myself from exclaiming. + +Mme. Edith looked at me reproachfully and I regretted having even +seemed to have taken part against her in any way. + +“And this is stranger yet!” said the Prince. “Day before yesterday, the +‘hangman of the sea’ came to bid me adieu, saying that he was going to +leave the country, and I am sure that he took the train for Venice, his +native city, at five o’clock in the afternoon. How then could he have +conveyed your uncle in his boat late that night? In the first place, he +was not in this part of the world; in the second, he had sold his boat. +He told me so, adding that he would never return to this country.” + +There was a dead silence and Prince Galitch continued: + +“All this is of little importance--provided that your uncle, Madame, +recovers speedily from his injuries and, again,” he added with another +smile, more charming than those which had preceded it--“if you will +aid me in regaining a poor piece of flint which has disappeared from +the grotto and of which I will give you the description. It is a sharp +piece of flint, twenty-five centimeters long and shaped at one end to +the form of a dagger--in brief, the oldest dagger of the human race. I +value it greatly and, perhaps you may be able to learn, Madame, through +your uncle, Bob, what has become of it.” + +Mme. Edith at once gave her promise to the Prince, with a certain air +of haughtiness which pleased me greatly, that she would do everything +possible to obtain for him news of so precious an object. The Prince +bowed low and left us. When we had finished returning his parting +salutes, we saw M. Arthur Rance before us. He must have heard the +conversation for he seemed very thoughtful. He had his ivory-headed +cane in his hand, and was whistling, according to his habit. And he +looked at Mme. Edith with an expression so strange that she appeared +somewhat exasperated. + +“I know exactly what you are thinking, sir!” she said. “It does not +astonish me in the least. And you may keep on thinking so, if it amuses +you, for aught I care.” + +And she stepped nearer Rouletabille, smiling nervously. + +“At all events,” she exclaimed. “You can never explain to me how, when +_he_ was outside the Square Tower, _he_ could have hidden behind +that panel.” + +“Madame,” said Rouletabille, slowly and impressively, looking at the +young woman as though he were trying to hypnotize her, “have patience +and have courage. If God is with me, before night I shall explain to +you all that you wish to know.” + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + HOW DEATH STALKED ABROAD AT NOONDAY + + +A little later, I found myself in the lower parlor of “la Louve,” +tete-a-tete with Mme. Edith. I attempted to reassure her, seeing how +restless and nervous she was; but she buried her pale face in her hands +and her trembling lips allowed the confession of her fears to escape +them. + +“I am frightened!” she murmured. I asked her what frightened her and +she looked at me wildly and said, “And aren’t you afraid, too?” I kept +silence, for I was afraid, myself. She said again. “You know something +of what is going on--here or there or all around us! Ah, I am all +alone! all alone! And I am so frightened.” She turned toward the door. + +“Where are you going?” I asked. + +“I am going to look for someone. I won’t stay here alone.” + +“For whom are you going to look?” + +“For Prince Galitch.” + +“Your ‘Feodor Feodorowitch!’” I cried. “What do you want with him? Am I +not here?” + +Her nervousness, unfortunately, seemed to increase in proportion to my +efforts to drive it away and I began to realize that a fearful doubt as +to the personality of her uncle, Old Bob, had entered her mind. + +“Let us go out into the air!” she said, impatiently. “I can’t breathe +in this place.” We left “la Louve” and entered the garden. It was +approaching the hour of noontide and the court was a dream of perfumed +beauty. As we had not donned our smoked spectacles, we were obliged +to put our hands before our eyes in order to shield them from the +glaring rays of the sun and the too glowing hues of the flowers. The +giant geraniums struck on our eyeballs like bleeding wounds. When we +had grown a little more used to the dazzling sight, we advanced over +the shining sands, Edith clinging to my hand like a little child. Her +hand burned hotter than the sun and seemed like a veritable flame. We +looked down at our feet in order to prevent our eyes from falling on +the blinding expanse of the waters and also, it may be, in order not to +glance toward the buildings in which so many strange things had taken +place--perhaps, were taking place even now. + +“I am afraid!” murmured Edith once more. And I, too, was +afraid--overwhelmed after the mysteries of the night by the vast, +desolate silence of the noon. + +The broad glare of daylight in which one knows that something strange +and terrible is going on is more awful than the deepest and darkest +night. Everything sleeps and yet everything wakes. Everything is dead +and everything is living. Everything is wrapped in silence and still +there are sounds everywhere. Listen to your own ear. It sounds as loud +as a conch shell filled with the most mysterious sounds of the sea. +Close your lids and look into your own eyes; you will find there a +throng of crowding visions more mysterious than the phantoms of the +night. + +I looked at Mme. Edith. Beads of perspiration stood out on her forehead +and her face was pale as death. I was trembling and chilled, for, alas! +I could do nothing to help her and destiny was weaving its inexorable +web all around us and that nothing which we could say or do would +hinder in the slightest degree its slow, undeviating march. Edith led +the way toward the postern gate which opens upon the Court of the Bold. +The vault of this postern formed a black arch in the light and at the +extremity of this tunnel, we perceived, facing us, Rouletabille and +M. Darzac, who were standing at the edge of the inner court, like two +white statues. Rouletabille was holding in his hand Arthur Rance’s +ivory-headed cane. Why this latter fact should have disturbed me, I +do not know, but so it was. Motioning with the cane, he showed Robert +Darzac something on the summit of the vault which we could not see and +then he pointed us out in the same way. We could not hear what he said. +The two talked together for a few moments with their lips scarcely +moving, like two accomplices in some dark secret. Mme. Edith paused, +but Rouletabille beckoned to her, repeating the signal with his cane. + +“Oh, what does he want with me now?” she cried like a frightened child. +“Oh, M. Sainclair, I am so miserable. I am going to tell my uncle +everything and we shall see what will happen then.” + +We went on until we reached the vault and the others watched us without +making a movement to meet us. They stood like two statues, and I said +aloud in a voice which sounded strangely in my own ears: + +“What are you two doing here?” + +We had come up close to them by this time, upon the threshold of the +Court of the Bold, and they bade us turn around with our backs toward +the court so that we could see what they were looking at. There was +on top of the arch, an escutcheon, the shield of the Mortola, barred +with the mark of the cadet branch. This escutcheon had been carved +in a stone now loose, which seemed in imminent danger of falling and +crushing the heads of the passers by. Rouletabille had without doubt +noticed this danger, and he asked Mme. Edith if she had any objections +to its being pulled down until it could be replaced more solidly. + +“I am sure that it will fall before long and it might do serious +damage,” he said, touching it with the end of his cane, and then +passing the stick to Mme. Edith. + +“You are taller than I,” he went on. “See if you can reach it.” + +But both she and I tried in vain to touch the stone; it was too high +for us and I was about to inquire what was the meaning of this singular +exercise when all at once, behind my back, _I heard the cry of a +dying man in his last agony_. + + * * * * * + +We turned with one impulse, uttering an exclamation of horror. Ah, +that cry of mortal agony which rang out on the air of the noonday just +as it had through the night! Would we never be free from murder? When +would that fearful sound which I had heard for the first time that +night at the Glandier, never be done with announcing to us that a new +victim had been struck down among us? that one of our own number had +fallen beneath some fatal blow, as suddenly as though by some frightful +pestilence? Surely, the mark of the epidemic itself is less invisible +and terrible than that of the hand which kills. + +We all stood there, shivering, our eyes wide with horror, questioning +the deeps of the sky still vibrating from that cry of death. Who was +dead? Who was dying? What expiring breath had emitted that terrible +sound? One might have thought that it was the clearness of the day +itself which cried out in suffering. + +Rouletabille was the most terrified of us all. I have seen him, under +the most untoward circumstances, maintain a composure which seemed +greater than any human creature could hold; I have seen him, at a like +horrible cry of death, rush into the danger of the darkness and cast +himself like a heroic rescuer into the sea of shadows. Why should he +tremble so to-day in the full splendor of the noon? He remained fixed +to the spot, as weak as a baby, he, who a little while ago, declared +that he would prove himself the master of the hour. He had not foreseen +this moment then? this moment in which a human life had been snatched +away under the noonday sun! + +Mattoni, who was passing through the garden, and who had also heard the +cry, rushed up. At a gesture from Rouletabille he stood rooted to the +spot an immovable sentinel; and now the young man had gained sufficient +power to advance toward the cry--or, at least, toward the center of the +cry, for it seemed still to echo everywhere around us and to circle +about in the all embracing space. And we hurried behind him, our breath +coming fast, our arms stretched out, as one holds them when one is +groping in the dark and fears to stumble against something which one +does not see. + +We approached the place from which the shriek had come and when we +had passed the shade of the eucalyptus we found the cause. The +cry had come, indeed, from a soul passing into the unknown. It was +Bernier--Bernier in whose throat sounded the death rattle, who was +trying in vain to rise and who was at the last gasp of his life. It was +Bernier from whose breast flowed a stream of blood--Bernier over whom +we leaned, and who, with one last, fearful struggle, summoned strength +enough to utter the two words: “Frederic Larsan!” + +Then his head fell back and he was dead. Frederic Larsan! Frederic +Larsan! He who was everywhere and nowhere! He always and forever. Here, +yet again, was his mark. A dead body--and no one anywhere near who +could have committed the murder, by any possibility of human reason. +For the only means of egress from the spot on which the crime had +occurred was by this postern where we four had been standing. And we +had turned, with one impulse and one movement, at the very instant +that the cry rang out--so quickly that we had almost seen the stroke +of death given. And when we looked, there had not even been a shadow +before our eyes--nothing but the light! + +We rushed, moved by the same sentiment, it seemed to me, into the +Square Tower, the door of which still stood open; we entered in a +body the bedroom of Old Bob, passing through the empty sitting room. +The injured man was lying quietly on his bed within, and near him a +woman was watching--Mere Bernier. Both were as calm and still as the +day itself. But when the wife of the dead concierge saw our faces she +uttered a cry of affright, as though smitten by the knowledge of some +calamity. She had heard nothing. She knew nothing. But she rushed into +the air like a streak of lightning and went straight, as though +impelled by some hidden force, directly to the place where the body was +lying. + +[Illustration: It was Bernier! It was Bernier who lay there, the death +rattle in his throat and a stream of blood flowing from his breast.] + +And now it was her groans that sounded on the air, under the terrible +sun of the Midi, over the bleeding corpse. We tore the shirt from +the dead man’s breast and found a gaping wound just above the heart. +Rouletabille looked up with the same expression which I had seen at the +Glandier when he came to examine the wound of the “inexplicable body.” + +“One would say that it was the same stroke of the knife!” he said. “It +is the same measurement. But where is the knife?” + +We looked for the weapon everywhere without finding it. The man who had +struck the blow had carried the knife away. Where was the man? Who was +he? What we did not know, Bernier had known before he died and it was, +perhaps, because of that knowledge that his life had been forfeited. +“Frederic Larsan!” We repeated the last words of the dying man in fear +and trembling. + +Suddenly on the threshold of the postern, we saw the Prince Galitch, +a newspaper in his hand. He was reading as he came toward us. His air +was jovial and his face wore a smile. But Mme. Edith rushed up to him, +snatched the paper from his hands, pointed to the corpse and cried out: + +“A man has been murdered! Send for the police!” + +The Prince stared at the body and then at us without uttering a word +and then turned hastily away, saying that he would send for the +authorities immediately. Mere Bernier kept up her wild lamentations. +Rouletabille seated himself on the edge of the shaft. He seemed to +have lost all his strength. He spoke to Mme. Edith in a low tone: + +“Let the police come then, Madame, but remember, it is you who have +insisted upon it!” + +Mrs. Rance gave him a withering glance from her black eyes. And I knew +what her thoughts were as well as though she had spoken them out. She +felt that she hated Rouletabille, who had for a single moment been able +to make her suspect Old Bob. While Bernier had been assassinated, had +not Old Bob been quietly in his chamber, watched over by Mere Bernier +herself? + +Rouletabille was examining the iron bars and heavy lid which closed +the shaft, but his manner was distrait and discouraged. After he had +finished what seemed to be a very careless inspection he stretched +himself out on the ground as if it were a couch in which he was trying +to get some rest. Turning once more to his hostess, he said in the same +low voice: + +“And what will you tell the police when they get here?” + +“Everything!” + +Mrs. Rance fairly snapped out the word between her teeth, her eyes +flashing fire. Rouletabille shook his head sorrowfully and closed his +eyes. He seemed utterly exhausted and vanquished. Robert Darzac touched +him on his shoulder. M. Darzac wanted to search through the Square +Tower, the Tower of the Bold, the New Castle--all the dependencies +of the fort from which no one could have made his escape, and where, +therefore, the assassin must still be concealed. The reporter shook his +head drearily, and said that it would be of no use. Rouletabille and I +knew only too well that any search would be in vain. Had we not made +a search at the Glandier after the phenomenon of the dissolution of +matter, for the man who had disappeared in the inexplicable gallery? +No, no! I had learned that there was no use in looking for Larsan with +one’s eyes. + +A man had been murdered just behind our backs. We had heard him cry +out when the blow struck him down. We had turned around and had seen +nothing except the daylight. To see clearly, it was better to close the +eyes as Rouletabille was doing at this moment. + +And when he opened them, he was another man! A new energy animated +his features. He stood erect as though he had thrown off a weight. He +clenched his fist and raised it toward the heavens. + +“That is not possible!” he cried. “Or there is no more good in +reasoning.” + +And he threw himself on the ground, creeping on his hands and knees, +his nose to the earth, like a hound following the scent, going round +the body of poor Bernier and around Mere Bernier, who had blankly +refused to leave her husband--around the shaft--around each of us. He +moved about like a pig, nosing its nourishment out of the mire, and we +all stood still, looking at him curiously and half in alarm. Suddenly +he started to his feet, almost white with dust and uttered a shout of +triumph as though he had found Larsan himself in the gravel. What new +victory did the boy feel that he had achieved over the mystery? What +had given this new firmness to his step and steadiness to his glance? +What had given back to him the strength of his voice? For when he +addressed M. Robert Darzac his tones were full of vigor and resolution. + +“It’s all right, Monsieur! _Nothing is changed!_” + +And, turning to Mme. Edith-- + +“There is nothing more to do, Madame, except to wait for the police. I +hope that they will not be long.” + +The unhappy woman shuddered. I knew that she was again struck with +mortal fear. + +“Yes, let them come!” she cried, taking my arm. “And let them attend to +everything! Let them think for us! Whatever may happen, let it come as +soon as it will.” + +Attracted by the sound of voices we looked around and saw Pere Jacques +approaching, followed by two gendarmes. It was the brigadier of la +Mortola, who, summoned by Prince Galitch, had hurried to the scene of +the crime. + +“The gendarmes! the gendarmes! They say that murder has been done!” +exclaimed Pere Jacques, who as yet knew nothing of what had happened. + +“Be calm, Pere Jacques!” exhorted Rouletabille, and when the old man, +panting and breathless, drew near to the reporter, the latter said to +him in low tones: + +“_Nothing is changed_, Pere Jacques!” + +But Pere Jacques was gazing at Bernier’s body. + +“Only one more dead man!” he sighed. “This is Larsan’s work again!” + +“It is the work of destiny!” answered Rouletabille. + +Larsan and destiny--both were as one. But what did Rouletabille mean by +his “Nothing is changed,” if not that, despite the incidental murder of +Bernier, everything which we dreaded, which made us shudder and which +we had no understanding of, continued just as before? + +The gendarmes were busy examining the body and chattering over it in +their uncomprehensible jargon. The brigadier informed us that they had +telephoned to the Garibaldi Tavern, a few steps away, where at this +moment the delegato, or special commissioner, stationed at Vintimille, +was even now breakfasting. The delegato would have power to begin the +investigation, which would be continued when the examining magistrate +had been notified. + +The delegato arrived. It was easily to be seen that he was enchanted, +even though he had not had the time to finish his repast. A crime! +actually a crime! And in the Château of Hercules. He was fairly +radiant; his eyes shone. He was full of business, full of importance. +He ordered the brigadier to station one of his men at the gate of the +château with directions to permit no person to pass in or out. Then he +knelt down beside the body while a gendarme, despite her protestations +and tears, led Mere Bernier away to the Square Tower, where her groans +sounded louder than ever. The delegato examined the wound and said in +very good French: + +“That was a magnificent stroke!” + +The man was enchanted. If he had had the assassin under arrest, he +would assuredly have paid him his compliments. He looked at us. Then he +looked at us again. Perhaps he was seeking among us for the criminal to +tell him of his admiration. At last he rose from his knees. + +“And now how did all this happen?” he asked encouragingly, smacking +his lips as though in the anticipation of hearing a story of thrilling +interest. “It is terrible!” he added--“terrible! In the five years +that I have been delegato, we have never had a murder. Monsieur the +examining magistrate----.” Here he checked himself but we knew well +what he had been on the point of saying: “Monsieur the examining +magistrate will be very much pleased.” He brushed away the white dust +which covered his knees, wiped the perspiration from his forehead +and repeated “It is terrible!” his Southern accent seeming to grow +stronger. And at that moment, he noticed in a new arrival who entered +the court, a doctor from Mentone who had come to continue his treatment +of Old Bob. + +“Ah, doctor, I am glad that you are here! Just look at this wound and +tell me what you think of such a knife stroke. But be as careful as +possible about changing the position of the corpse before the arrival +of the examining magistrate.” + +The doctor sounded the depth of the wound and gave us all the technical +details which we could desire. There was no doubt about it at all. +It was a truly magnificent stroke of the knife which had penetrated +from high to low in the cardiac region and the point of the knife had +certainly opened a ventricle. During the colloquy between the delegato +and the doctor, Rouletabille never took his eyes off Mme. Edith, who +was still clinging to my arm as though she knew that I was her only +refuge. Her eyes fell before the eyes of Rouletabille which seemed to +hypnotize her and to command her to be silent. But I knew that she was +trembling with the desire to speak. + + * * * * * + +At the request of the delegato, we all entered the Square Tower. We +took our places in Old Bob’s sitting room, where the inquest was to +be held and where each of us in turn recounted what we had seen and +heard. Mere Bernier was first questioned, but little or nothing could +be gained from her testimony. She declared that she knew nothing about +anything. She had been in Old Bob’s bedroom, attending to the needs of +the injured man, when we had rushed madly into the room. She had been +with Old Bob for an hour, having left her husband in the lodge of the +Square Tower, ready to work at making a rope. + +It was a curious fact, but I was less interested at that moment in what +was going on under my eyes than in what I could not see and yet knew +_that I expected_. + +Would Edith speak? She was looking out of the open window, her lips +compressed, her brows drawn. A gendarme was standing near the corpse +over the face of which a handkerchief had been laid. Edith, like +myself, was paying very little heed to what was going on inside the +room. Her eyes were fixed upon Bernier’s body. + +An exclamation from the delegato struck upon our ears. The further the +evidence of the witnesses progressed, the greater became the amazement +of the Commissioner, and the more and more inexplicable he found the +crime. He was on the point of finding it impossible that it should +have been committed at all, when it came Mme. Edith’s turn to be +interrogated. + +They questioned her. Her lips were already opened to answer the first +question when Rouletabille’s quiet voice was heard: + +“Look at the end of the shadow of the eucalyptus.” + +“What is there at the end of the shadow of the eucalyptus?” demanded +the delegato. + +“The weapon with which the crime was committed,” replied the reporter. + +He jumped out of the window to the court and picked up from the bloody +stones a sharp, shining piece of flint. He brandished it in our eyes. +We all recognized it. It was “the oldest dagger of the human race.” + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + IN WHICH ROULETABILLE ORDERS THE IRON DOORS TO BE CLOSED + + +The weapon belonged to Prince Galitch, but there was no doubt in the +mind of any one of us that it had been stolen by Old Bob, and we could +not forget that with his latest breath Bernier had accused Larsan of +being his assassin. Never had the image of Old Bob and that of Larsan +been so inextricably confounded in our restless spirits as since +Rouletabille had found “the oldest dagger known to the human race” +dripping with the blood of Bernier. Mme. Edith had at once realized +that henceforth the fate of Old Bob lay in the hands of Rouletabille. +The latter had only to say a few words to the delegato relative to the +singular incidents which had accompanied the fall of Old Bob into the +cave in the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet, enumerating the reasons which +had given occasion for fear that Old Bob and Larsan were one and the +same, and, finally, repeating the accusation made by the last victim +of Larsan, in order to fix the suspicions of the delegato firmly upon +the wigged head of the professor of geology. And, therefore, Mme. +Edith, who in her filial affection had not ceased to believe that the +man who lay on his bed in the Square Tower was really her uncle, had +begun to imagine, thanks to the bloody weapon, that the invisible +Larsan had woven so strong a web of circumstantial evidence around old +Bob that it could scarcely be broken, with the design, doubtless, of +making the old man suffer the punishment for the wretch’s own crimes +and also the dangerous weight of his personality. Mme. Edith trembled +for Old Bob and for herself. She trembled with fear, like an insect +in the center of the web in which it has lost itself--this mysterious +web woven by Larsan, attached by invisible threads to the old walls +of the Château of Hercules. She felt as though if she were to make a +sudden movement--to say anything even--both she and her uncle would be +lost, and that some horrible beast of prey awaited only this signal to +spring upon and devour her. So she who had been so anxious to speak out +stood silent and when Rouletabille was called upon, it was her turn to +fear. She told me afterward of her state of mind at this time and she +acknowledged to me that her terror of Larsan had reached such a pitch +as even we, who had known so much of his evil power already, had never +experienced. This were wolf whose name she had so often heard spoken +in accents of horror which had made her smile, had begun to interest +her, when she learned of the events of the Yellow Room, because of the +impossibility of the police discovering the manner of his exit. Her +interest had increased when she had heard the story of the attack of +the Square Tower because of the impossibility of anyone’s explaining +how Larsan could have entered; but, now--now, in the full glare of the +noonday sun, Larsan had killed a man almost under her own eyes, and +within a radius in which there was at the time only herself, Robert +Darzac, Rouletabille, myself, Old Bob and Mere Bernier, each and every +one of them far enough away from the body so that not one could have +struck Bernier down. And Bernier had accused Larsan! Where was Larsan? +_In whose body?_--according to the reasoning which I had set forth +to her myself in telling her the story of the “inexplicable gallery”? +She had been under the arch with Darzac and myself, standing between +us, with Rouletabille in front of us, when the death cry had resounded +at the end of the shadow of the eucalyptus tree--that is to say, at +least, seven meters away. As to Old Bob and Mere Bernier, they had +not been separated; the one had watched over the other. If she placed +them outside the realms of possibility, there was no one left to kill +Bernier. Not alone this time was everyone ignorant how _he_ had +departed but also of _how he had been present_. Ah, she understood +now that when one thought of Larsan there were moments in which one +shivered to the marrow of one’s bones! + +Nothing! Nothing anywhere around the corpse but the stone knife which +Old Bob had stolen! It was frightful--it was reason enough for us to +think of everything--to imagine everything! + +She read the certainty of this conviction in the eyes and in the manner +of Rouletabille and of Robert Darzac. But she understood as soon as the +young man began speaking that he seemed to have no other end in view +than to save Old Bob from the suspicions of the authorities. + +Rouletabille was given a seat between the delegato and the examining +magistrate who had arrived while Mme. Edith had been testifying, and +he gave his evidence (or rather, reasoned the matter out) holding +the “oldest knife known to the human race” in his hand. It seemed +definitely established that the guilty person could have been no other +than one of the living men and women who were near the dead man and +whom I have enumerated above, when Rouletabille proved with a logical +accuracy that overwhelmed the examining magistrate and plunged the +delegato into despair that the deed could only have been committed by +the dead man himself. The four persons at the postern gate and the two +persons in Old Bob’s room had each been looking at the others and had +not lost sight of each other while _someone_ was killing Bernier a +few steps away, so it was impossible to believe that the killing could +have been done by any other than the victim. + +To this the examining magistrate, greatly interested, replied by +inquiring whether any of us had reason to suspect any motive for +suicide on the part of Bernier, to which Rouletabille answered that the +supposition of suicide might easily be laid aside and that of accident +substituted for it. “The weapon of the crime,” as he called ironically +the “oldest knife known to the human race,” testified to the truth of +this theory by its presence. Rouletabille declared that there would be +no chance of an assassin meditating the commission of a murder with an +old piece of stone as an instrument. And still less could one believe +that Bernier, if he had resolved upon suicide, would not have found +another means toward his end than the one which had been used. But if, +on the contrary, that stone, which might have attracted his attention +by its strange form, had been picked up by Pere Bernier, and if he had +happened to slip and fall while holding it in his hand, everything +would be explained and very simply. Pere Bernier, undoubtedly, must +have thus unfortunately fallen upon this triangular flint which had +pierced his heart. + +After Rouletabille had stated this hypothesis, the physician was +recalled, the wound examined once more and confronted with the fatal +object from which the scientific conclusion was reached that the wound +was made by the object. From this to the theory of accident, as stated +by Rouletabille, there was only a step. The judges spent six hours +in clearing up the matter--six hours during which they questioned us +without weariness but without result. + +As to Mme. Edith and your humble servant, after some futile and useless +questions, asked while the doctors were at the bedside of Old Bob, we +were allowed to leave the room and we went to sit in the little parlor +just outside the bedroom and were there when the magistrates were ready +to depart. The door of this parlor which opened upon the corridor of +the Square Tower had not been closed. We could hear the sobs and groans +of Mere Bernier, who was watching beside the body of her husband which +had been carried into the lodge. Between this body and the wounded +man, the injury to one as inexplicable as the death of the other, the +situation of both Mrs. Rance and myself had become extremely painful, +in spite of Rouletabille’s efforts, and all the terrors which we had +experienced before grew pale and simple before the thought of what +might be yet to come. Edith suddenly seized me by the hand and cried +out: + +“Do not leave me! I beg of you, don’t leave me! I have only you left. +I do not know where Prince Galitch is--I do not know anything about my +husband. That is what makes this so horrible. Arthur sent me a message, +saying that he was going in search of Tullio. He does not know even yet +that Bernier has been murdered. Has he found the ‘hangman of the sea’? +It is from this man--from Tullio now that I expect the truth! And not a +word has come! It is horrible!” + +As she took my hand so confidingly and held it for a moment in her +own, I felt that I was for Mme. Edith with all my heart and soul and +I assured her that she might rely upon my devotion. We murmured a few +words of trust and eternal fidelity to each other in low voices while +there in the corridor we could see, passing back and forth, the dark +forms of the emissaries of justice, now preceded, now followed by +Rouletabille and M. Darzac. Rouletabille never failed to cast a glance +in our direction every time he had the opportunity. The window remained +open. + +“Ah, he is watching us!” exclaimed Mme. Edith. “Why is that, I wonder? +Probably we are in his way and M. Darzac’s when we remain here. But, +whatever may happen, we shall not stir, shall we, M. Sainclair?” + +“You ought to be grateful to Rouletabille,” I ventured to remind her; +“for his intervention and his silence relative to the ‘oldest knife +known to the human race.’ If the officers had learned that this stone +dagger belonged to your uncle, Bob, what could have hindered them from +placing him under arrest? Or if they knew that Bernier in dying had +accused Larsan of his murder, the story of the accident would have +found very little credence.” + +I placed an emphasis upon these last words. + +“Oh!” she cried, bitterly. “Your friend has as many good reasons to +keep silence as I have! And I dread only one thing, M. Sainclair--I +dread only one thing!” + +“And what is that?” + +She arose, her eyes shining with fever. + +“I fear lest he has saved my uncle from the authorities only to ruin +him more completely.” + +“How can you think such a thing for a moment?” I asked her, convinced +that her fears were robbing her of her senses. + +“I am sure that I could read some such plan in the eyes of your friend +a little while ago. If I were sure that I were right, I would rather +hand my uncle over to the mercies of the authorities!” + +I managed to quiet her a little and to make her cast aside such an +impossible supposition, and, at length, she said: + +“At all events, it is necessary to be ready for anything, and I know +how to defend him so long as I draw breath.” + +And she showed me a tiny revolver which was hidden in her gown. + +“Ah!” she cried again. “Why is Prince Galitch not here?” + +“Again?” I exclaimed, angrily. + +“Is it actual truth that you are ready to defend me?” she demanded, +turning her beautiful eyes full upon my own. + +“I am ready.” + +“Against the whole world?” + +I hesitated. She repeated the words again: + +“Against the whole world?” + +“Yes.” + +“Against your friend even?” + +“If it should be necessary,” I answered with a sigh, passing my hand +across my forehead. + +“Very well: I believe you!” she answered. “In that case, I will leave +you here for a few minutes. You will guard this door _for me_!” + +And she pointed to the door behind which Old Bob was resting. Then she +ran out of the room. Where was she going? She confessed to me later. +She was going to look for the Prince Galitch! Oh, woman, woman! + +She had scarcely disappeared under the arch when Rouletabille and +M. Darzac entered the room. They had heard all that had passed. +Rouletabille advanced to my side and told me quietly that he was aware +that I had betrayed him. + +“You are using a large word, Rouletabille!” I exclaimed. “You know that +I am not in the habit of betraying anyone! Mme. Edith is really very +much to be pitied and you do not pity her enough, my friend.” + +“Ah, well! you pity her too much!” + +I blushed to the roots of my hair. I started to make some reply but +Rouletabille cut short my words with a dry gesture. + +“I ask you only one thing--only one, you understand. It is that, no +matter what may happen--_no matter what may happen_--you shall not +address one word to either M. Darzac or to myself.” + +“That will be a very easy thing to promise!” I replied, foolishly +irritated, and I turned my back upon him. It seemed to me that it was +with difficulty that he refrained from uttering some angry speech. + +But at the same moment, the officers, coming out of the New Castle, +called to us. The inquest was at an end. There was no doubt, in their +eyes, after the declaration of the doctors, that the affair had been an +accident and that was the verdict which they felt obliged to render. +M. Darzac and Rouletabille accompanied them to the outer gate. And as +I stood leaning on my elbows, at the window which opens upon the Court +of the Bold, assailed by a thousand sinister presentiments and awaiting +with an increasing anxiety for the return of Mme. Edith, while a few +steps away in the lodge, where the candles had been lighted around +Bernier’s bier, Mere Bernier kept on sobbing and praying beside the +corpse of her husband, I suddenly heard a sound which fell upon the +evening air like the blow of an immense gong; and I knew that it was +Rouletabille who had ordered the iron gates to be closed. + +Not a single minute passed after that when I saw Mme. Edith rush into +the room and hurry to me as though I were her only refuge. + +Then I saw M. Darzac appear-- + +Then Rouletabille, and leaning on his arm was the Lady in Black. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + IN WHICH ROULETABILLE GIVES A CORPOREAL DEMONSTRATION OF THE + POSSIBILITY OF “THE BODY TOO MANY” + + +Through the window I could see Rouletabille and the Lady in Black +entering the Square Tower. Never had the young reporter walked with +such solemn stateliness. His demeanor might have made one smile, if +instead, at this tragic moment, it had not added to our apprehensions. +Never had magistrate or counsellor, wearing the purple or the ermine, +entered the court room where the accused waited him with more of +threatening yet tranquil majesty. But I fancy, too, that never had a +judge looked so pale. + +As to the Lady in Black, it could easily be seen that she was making +a powerful effort to hide the sentiments of horror which, in spite +of all, pierced through her troubled glance, and to hide from us +the emotion which made her cling feverishly to the arm of her young +companion. Robert Darzac, too, had the sombre and resolute mien of a +judge. But that which most of all added to our surprise and affright +was the entrance of Pere Jacques, Walter and Mattoni into the Square +Tower. All three were armed with muskets, and placed themselves in +silence before the door, where they stood with military precision +while they received from the lips of Rouletabille the order to let no +person _go out_ from the Old château. Edith was overwhelmed with +terror, and demanded of Mattoni and Walter, both of whom were greatly +attached to her, what their presence signified and what their weapons +threatened; but, to my great astonishment, they returned no answer. +Then the little woman rushed to the door which gave access to Old Bob’s +room, and, extending her two arms across the threshold, as if to bar +the passage, she cried: + +“What are you going to do? You do not mean to kill _him_?” + +“No, Madame,” replied Rouletabille, gravely. “We are going to judge +_him_. And in order to be sure that the judges shall not be +executioners we are all going to swear upon the body of Pere Bernier, +after having laid down our arms, that each of us will keep guard over +himself.” + +And he led us into the chamber where Mere Bernier continued to groan +beside the bier of her spouse whom “the oldest knife known to the human +race” had smitten. There we laid aside our revolvers and took the oath +which Rouletabille exacted. Mrs. Rance alone made some difficulties +about giving up the weapon which Rouletabille was well aware that she +had concealed in her clothing. But upon the urging of the reporter who +made her understand that the general disarming ought to reassure her, +she finally consented. + +The oath having been taken, Rouletabille, with the Lady in Black +still on his arm, went from the funereal chamber into the corridor; +but instead of directing our steps toward the apartment of Old Bob as +we expected him to do, he went straight to the door which afforded +entrance to the chamber of “the body too many.” And, drawing from his +pocket the little special key of which I have spoken, he opened the +door. + +We were all astonished in entering the rooms which had been occupied by +M. and Mme. Darzac to see upon M. Darzac’s desk the drawing board, the +wash drawing upon which our friend had worked at the side of Old Bob +in the latter’s workshop in the Court of the Bold, and also the little +dish full of red paint and the tiny brush drenched with the paint. And, +lastly, in the middle of the desk, there was placed, appearing very +much at its ease, upon its bloody jaws, “the oldest skull of humanity.” + +Rouletabille locked and bolted the door and said to us, himself greatly +affected, while we listened with stupefaction: + +“Sit down, if you please, ladies and gentlemen.” + +Some chairs were arranged around the table and in these we seated +ourselves, a prey to the most disquieting fancies--I might almost say +to an agony of suspense. A secret presentiment warned us that all the +familiar appurtenances of drawing which were displayed before us might +hide, under their apparent commonplace tranquility, the terrible causes +which helped to bring about this most fearful of dramas. And as we +looked upon it, the skull seemed to smile like Old Bob. + +“You will acknowledge,” began Rouletabille, “that there is here, around +this table one chair too many, and, in consequence, one person too +few--to particularize, M. Arthur Rance, for whom we cannot wait much +longer.” + +“Perhaps at this very moment my husband possesses the proofs of Old +Bob’s innocence!” observed Mme. Edith, whom all these preparations had +disturbed more than anyone else. “I entreat Mme. Darzac to join me in +imploring these gentlemen to do nothing until Arthur’s return.” + +The Lady in Black had no opportunity to intervene, for before Mme. +Edith finished speaking, we heard a loud noise outside the door of the +corridor. A knock came at the door and we heard the voice of Arthur +Rance begging us to open immediately. He cried: + +“_I have brought the pin with the ruby head!_” + +Rouletabille opened the door. + +“Arthur Rance, you are come then at last!” he exclaimed. + +Edith’s husband seemed plunged in the deepest melancholy. + +“What have you to tell me? What has happened? Some new misfortune? Ah, +I feared so--feared that I had arrived too late when I saw the iron +gate closed and heard the prayers for the dead chanted in the tower. +Yes--I knew that you had _executed_ Old Bob!” + +Rouletabille, who had closed and bolted the door behind Arthur Rance +turned to the American and said: + +“Old Bob is alive and Pere Bernier is dead. Be seated, Monsieur.” + +Arthur Rance stared at the speaker in amazement; then looked in +consternation at the drawing board, the dish of paint and the bloody +skull and demanded: + +“Who killed him?” + +Then, condescending to notice that his wife was there, he pressed her +hand, but his eyes were fixed upon the Lady in Black. + +“Before his death, Bernier accused Frederic Larsan,” answered M. Darzac. + +“Do you mean to say by that that he accused Old Bob?” interrupted M. +Rance indignantly. “I will not suffer that. I, too, had some doubts in +regard to the personality of our beloved uncle, but I tell you that I +have the ruby-headed pin!” + +What was he talking about with his “little ruby-headed pin”? I +remembered that Mme. Edith had told us that Old Bob had snatched one +from her hand when she had playfully pricked him with it on the night +of the drama of the Square Tower. But what relation could there be +between this pin and the adventure of Old Bob? Arthur Rance did not +wait for us to ask him, but hurried on to tell us that this little pin +had disappeared at the same time as Old Bob and that he had found it +in the possession of “the Hangman of the Sea,” fastening a sheaf of +bank notes which the old uncle had paid him on that fated night for his +complicity and his silence in having brought him in the fisher boat +to the grotto of Romeo and Juliet. And M. Rance told us moreover that +Tullio had withdrawn from the spot at dawn, greatly disquieted at the +non-appearance of his passenger. Rance concluded, triumphantly: + +“A man who gives a ruby pin to another man in a boat cannot be at the +same moment tied up in a potato sack in the Square Tower.” + +Upon which Mrs. Rance inquired: + +“What gave you the idea of going to San Remo? Did you know that Tullio +was to be found there?” + +“I received an anonymous letter informing me of his whereabouts.” + +“It was I who sent it to you,” said Rouletabille, tranquilly. And, +then, turning to the rest of us, he said in frigid tones: + +“Ladies and gentlemen, I congratulate myself upon the prompt return of +M. Arthur Rance. At the present moment there are reunited around this +table all the members of the house party of the Château of Hercules for +whom my corporeal demonstration of the possibility of the ‘body too +many’ may have some interest. I entreat you to give me your undivided +attention.” + +But Arthur Rance halted him with a quick movement. + +“What do you mean by the expression: ‘There are united around this +table all the members of the party for whom the corporeal demonstration +of the possibility of the body too many can have any interest’?” + +“I mean,” declared Rouletabille, “all those among whom we may hope to +find Larsan.” + +The Lady in Black, who had up to this time not uttered a word, arose +trembling to her feet. + +“Do you mean,” she breathed, her eyes filled with agonized +apprehension, “that Larsan is now among us?” + +“I am sure of it,” Rouletabille replied, gravely. + +There was an awful silence during which none of us dared look at each +other. + +The reporter continued, still in the same frigid tone: + +“I am sure of it--and there is no reason why the idea should surprise +you, Madame, since it has not for a moment left your own mind. As to +the rest of us, is it not true, gentlemen, that the idea has occurred +to each one of us at the same moment on the day when we took luncheon +on the terrace of the Bold when all our eyes were hidden by the black +glasses? If I except Mrs. Rance, who is there among us that did not +feel the presence of Larsan at that time?” + +“That is a question which ought to be propounded to Professor +Stangerson as well as to the rest of us,” interposed Arthur Rance, +instantly. “For from the moment when we begin any course of reasoning +along these lines, I can see no object in not having the Professor, who +was at the table at luncheon with us on that day, here at this time +also.” + +“Mr. Rance!” cried the Lady in Black. + +“Yes, I must repeat it, if you will pardon me,” replied Edith’s +husband, haughtily. “Monsieur Rouletabille was wrong to generalize when +he said, ‘All the members of the house party----’” + +“Professor Stangerson is so far from us in spirit that I have no need +of his presence here,” pronounced Rouletabille in a tone so stern and +solemn that it fell impressively on the ears of each and every one +among us. “Although Professor Stangerson had lived with us in the +Château of Hercules, he was not one of us in regard to feeling the +presence of Larsan on that day. And Larsan is here among us.” + +This time we stole stealthy glances at each other as though we +suspected each other of stealing, and the idea that Larsan might really +be among us appeared to me so mad that I exclaimed, forgetting that I +had promised not to address Rouletabille: + +“But at that luncheon on the terrace, there was still another person +whom I do not see here.” + +Rouletabille cast an angry look at me as he answered: + +“Still Prince Galitch! I have already told you, Sainclair, with what +task the Prince is occupying himself on this frontier and I swear to +you that it is not the trouble of Professor Stangerson’s daughter which +concerns him. Leave Prince Galitch to his humanitarian labors!” + +“All that is not reasonable,” I remarked almost mechanically. + +“To tell the truth, Sainclair, your nonsense prevents me from +reasoning.” + +But I had launched out, and, forgetting that I had promised Mme. Edith +to defend Old Bob, I started in to attack him for the pleasure of +proving Rouletabille in the wrong--and, besides, I felt, Edith would +not bear rancor against me for very long. + +“Old Bob,” I began, in the clearest and most assured tones that I could +command, “was also at that luncheon on the terrace and you take him +entirely out of your calculations on account of this little ruby pin. +But of what use is this little pin to prove to us that Old Bob was +rowed away by Tullio, who waited for him at the orifice of a gallery +leading from the shaft to the sea, if we cannot discover how Old Bob +could, as he said, have gone by way of the shaft which we found closed +from above and on the outside?” + +“Which _you_ found closed, you mean,” returned Rouletabille, +fixing his eyes upon me with a strange expression which somehow +embarrassed me. “I, on the contrary, found the shaft open. I had sent +you after Mattoni and Pere Jacques. When you came back, you found me in +the same place in the Court of the Bold, but I had had time to run to +the shaft and find out that it had been opened.” + +“And to close it again!” I cried. “And why did you close it? Whom did +you wish to deceive?” + +“_You, monsieur!_” + +He pronounced these two words with a contempt so crushing that the +blood rushed to my face. I arose. Every eye was turned upon me and as I +remembered the rudeness with which Rouletabille had treated me a little +while ago before M. Darzac, I had the horrible feeling that every eye +was suspecting me--accusing me! _Yes! I felt myself entirely wrapped +around by the atrocious fancy in the mind of each and all that I might +be Larsan!_ + +I! Larsan! + +I looked at each one in turn. Rouletabille did not lower his eyes while +my own were seeking to make him feel the fierce protestation of my +whole being and my indignation against such a monstrous supposition. +Anger ran through my veins like a flame. + +“Now, it is high time to end this farce!” I cried. “If Old Bob is +removed from consideration and Professor Stangerson and Prince Galitch, +there remain only ourselves--we who are locked up in this room--and if +Larsan is among us, show us to him, Rouletabille!” + +I repeated the words furiously, for the eyes of the boy, although they +were piercing through me, seemed to be fixed upon something outside of +and apart from me. + +“Show him to us! Name him! You are as slow here as you were at the +Court of Assizes.” + +“Had I not good reason at the Court of Assizes for being as slow as I +was?” he replied, without betraying any emotion. + +“You want him to escape this time, too, then?” + +“No! I swear to _you_ that this time he shall _not_ escape.” + +Why did his voice continue to be so threatening when he addressed me? +Could it be really--_really_ that he suspected me of being Larsan? +My eyes wandered to those of the Lady in Black. She was gazing on me in +terror. + +“Rouletabille!” I cried madly, feeling my voice almost smothered in my +throat. “You do not--you cannot suspect----!” + +At this moment, a pistol shot sounded outside, very near to the Square +Tower. We all leaped to our feet, remembering the order given by the +reporter to the three servants to fire upon anyone who should attempt +to go out of the Square Tower. Edith uttered a cry and tried to run out +of the room, but Rouletabille, who had not made so much as a gesture, +calmed her with a word. + +“If anyone had drawn upon _him_,” he said, “the three men would +have fired together. That pistol shot was merely a signal--a direction +for me to begin.” + +Turning to me, he continued: + +“M. Sainclair, you ought to know that I never suspect any person or +anything without previously having satisfied myself upon the ‘ground of +pure reason.’ That is a solid staff which has never yet failed me on +the road and on which I invite you all to lean with me. Larsan is here +among us, and the power of pure reason is going to show him to you; so +be seated again, if you please, and do not take your eyes from me, for +I am going to begin on this paper the corporeal demonstration of the +possibility of ‘the body too many’!” + + * * * * * + +First of all, he investigated to make sure that the bolts of the door +behind him were closely drawn; then, returning to the table, he took up +a compass. + +“I have the intention of making my demonstration,” he said, “along the +same lines on which the ‘body too many’ has produced itself. It will +be, thereby, only the more irrefutable.” + +And, with his compass, he took, upon M. Darzac’s drawing, the measure +of the radius of the circle which represented the space occupied by the +Tower of the Bold, so that he was immediately afterward able to trace +the same circle upon an immaculate piece of white paper which he had +fastened with copper-headed nails to another drawing board. + +When the circle was traced, Rouletabille, putting down his compass, +picked up the tiny dish of red paint and asked M. Darzac whether he +recognized it as the coloring matter he had used. M. Darzac, who, from +all appearances, understood the significance of the young man’s words +and actions no better than the rest of us, replied that, to the best +of his belief, it was the same paint which he had mixed for his wash +drawing. + +A good half of the paint had dried up in the bottom of the dish, +but, according to the opinion expressed by M. Darzac, the part which +remained would, upon paper, give nearly the same tint with which he had +“washed” the drawing of the peninsula of Hercules. + +“No one has touched it,” said Rouletabille very gravely, “and nothing +has been added to it, save a single tear. Besides, you will see that a +tear more or less in the paint cup would detract nothing from the value +of my demonstration.” + +Thus saying, he dipped the brush in the paint and began carefully to +“wash” all the space occupied by the circle which he had previously +traced. He did this with the care and exactitude which had already +astonished me in the Tower of the Bold when I had been nearly stupefied +in seeing him absorbed in a drawing when we knew that someone had been +assassinated. + +When he had finished he looked at his immense silver watch and said: + +“You may see, ladies and gentlemen, that the coating of paint which +covers my circle is neither more nor less thick than that which covers +the circle of M. Darzac. It is almost the same thing--the same tint.” + +“Undoubtedly,” rejoined M. Darzac. “But what does all this signify?” + +“Wait!” replied the reporter. “It is understood, then, that it is you +who have made this plan and this painting?” + +“I was certainly in enough of an ill humor when I found the state it +was in that time I went with you into Old Bob’s cabinet when we came +out of the Square Tower. Old Bob had ruined my drawing by letting his +skull roll over it.” + +“We are there!” spoke up Rouletabille, quick as a flash. And he lifted +from the bureau the “oldest skull of the human race.” He turned it over +and showed the crimsoned jaws to M. Darzac. Then he inquired: + +“Is it your opinion that the red which we see upon that under jaw is no +different from the red which would be taken off by any object coming in +contact with your plan?” + +“I don’t see how there could be any doubt of it! The skull was upside +down on my drawing when we entered the workshop.” + +“Let us continue then to remain of the same opinion!” said the reporter. + +Then he arose, holding the skull in the crook of his arm, and went into +the alcove in the wall, lighted by a large window and crossed by bars, +which had been a loophole for cannon in the ancient times, and which +M. Darzac had used as a dressing room. There he struck a match and +lighted a lamp filled with spirits of wine which stood upon a little +table. Upon this lamp he set a little pot which he had previously +filled with water. The skull still lay in the crook of his arm. + + * * * * * + +During this weird cookery, we never took our eyes off him. Never had +Rouletabille’s behavior appeared to us so incomprehensible nor so +mysterious nor so disturbing. The more he explained matters to us and +the more he did, the less we understood. And we were afraid because +we felt that someone--_someone among us--one of ourselves_--had +reason for fear. Who was this one? Perhaps the most calm of us all! + +But the calmest of all was Rouletabille between his skull and his +casserole. + +But what? Why did we all suddenly recoil with a single movement? Why +were the eyes of M. Darzac wide with a new terror--why did the Lady in +Black--Arthur Rance--I, myself--utter the same syllable--a name which +expired on our lips: “_Larsan!_”? + +Where had we seen him? Where had we discovered him this time, we who +were gazing at Rouletabille? Ah, that profile, in the red shadow of +the approaching twilight, that brow in the background of the alcove +upon which the sunset rays stream as did the dawn on the morning of +the crime! Oh, that stern jaw, bespeaking an iron will, which appeared +before us, not, as in the light of day, gentle though a little bitter, +but evil and threatening. How like Rouletabille was to Larsan! How in +that moment the son resembled his father! It was Larsan’s very self! + +[Illustration: Ah! that profile standing out darkly from the depths of +the embrasure, lighted up by the red glow of the falling night.] + +Another transformation. At a moan from his mother Rouletabille came out +of his funereal frame and appeared before us as a bandit, and as he +hurried toward us, he was Rouletabille once more. Mme. Edith, who had +never seen Larsan, could not understand. She whispered to me, “What is +going on?” + +Rouletabille was there before us with his hot water in the casserole, a +napkin and his skull. And he washed the skull. + +It was soon done. The paint disappeared. He made us bear witness to +the fact. Then, placing himself in front of the bureau, he stood in +mute contemplation before his own drawing. This lasted for ten minutes, +during which he had, by a sign, ordered us to keep silence--ten minutes +which seemed as long as the same number of hours. What was he waiting +for? What did he expect? Suddenly, he seized the skull in his right +hand, and with the gesture familiar to those who play at bowling, he +tossed it about so that it rolled hither and yon over the drawing; then +he showed us the skull and bade us notice that it bore no trace of red +paint. Rouletabille drew out his watch again. + +“The paint has dried upon the plan,” he said. “It has taken a quarter +of an hour to dry. Upon the 11th of April we saw at five o’clock in the +afternoon, M. Darzac entering the Square Tower and coming from out of +doors. But M. Darzac, after having entered the Square Tower, and after +having fastened behind him the bolts of his door, as he tells us, has +not gone out again until we came to fetch him after six o’clock. As +to Old Bob, we had seen him enter the Square Tower at six o’clock and +there was no paint on this skull then! + +“_How was this paint which has taken only a quarter of an hour to +dry upon this plan, fresh enough still--more than an hour after M. +Darzac had left it--to stain Old Bob’s skull when the savant, with a +movement of anger, threw it down on the plan as he entered the Round +Tower?_ There is only one explanation of this, and I defy you to +find another--and that is that _the Robert Darzac who entered the +Square Tower at five o’clock and whom no one has seen going out again, +was not the same as the one who came to paint in the Round Tower before +the arrival of Old Bob at six o’clock and whom we found in the room in +the Square Tower without having seen him enter there and with whom we +went out. In one word--he was not the same man as the M. Darzac here +present before us. The testimony of pure reason shows that there are +two personalities appearing in the guise of Robert Darzac!_” + +And Rouletabille turned his eyes full upon the man whose name he had +uttered. + +Darzac, like all the rest of us, was under the spell of the luminous +demonstration of the young reporter. We were all divided between a +new horror and a boundless admiration. How clear was every word that +Rouletabille had uttered! How clear--and how terrible! Here again we +found the mark of his prodigious and logical mathematical intelligence! + +M. Darzac cried out: + +“It was thus, then, that _he_ was able to enter the Square Tower +under a disguise which made him, without doubt, my very image! It was +thus that he was able to hide behind the panel in such a way that I did +not see him myself when I came here to write my letters after quitting +the Tower of the Bold, where I left my drawing. But how could Pere +Bernier have opened to him?” + +“Doubtless,” replied Rouletabille, who had taken the hand of the Lady +in Black in both his own as though he wished to give her courage, “he +must have believed that it was yourself.” + +“That then explains the fact that when I reached my door I had only to +push it open. Pere Bernier believed that I was within.” + +“Exactly: that is good reasoning!” declared Rouletabille. “And Pere +Bernier, who had opened to Darzac No. 1, had not troubled himself about +No. 2, since he did not see him any more than yourself. You certainly +reached the Square Tower at the moment that Sainclair and myself called +Bernier to the parapet to see whether he could help us in understanding +the strange gesticulations of Old Bob, talking at the threshold of the +Barma Grande to Mrs. Rance and Prince Galitch.” + +“But Mere Bernier!” cried M. Darzac. “She had gone into her lodge. Was +she not astonished to see M. Darzac come in a second time when she had +not seen him go out?” + +“Let us suppose,” replied the young reporter with a sad smile; “let +us suppose, M. Darzac, that Mere Bernier at that moment--the moment +when you passed into your apartments--that is to say, when the second +apparition of Darzac passed in--was occupied in picking up the potatoes +and putting them back into the sack which I had emptied upon her +floor--and we shall suppose the truth.” + +“Well, then, I can congratulate myself on the fact that I am still upon +earth!” + +“Congratulate yourself, M. Darzac? congratulate yourself!” + +“When I remember that as soon as I entered my room, I drew the bolts +as I have told you that I did, that I began to work and that this +wretch was hidden behind my back. Why, he might have killed me without +hindrance!” + +Rouletabille stepped close to M. Darzac and fixed his eyes upon him +with a look that seemed to read his soul. + +“Why did he not kill you then?” he asked. + +“You know very well that he was waiting for someone else,” replied M. +Darzac, turning his face sorrowfully toward the Lady in Black. + +Rouletabille was now so close to M. Darzac that their shadows on the +floor looked like that of one strangely formed being. The lad put his +two hands on the older man’s shoulders. + +“M. Darzac,” he said, his voice again clear and strong, “I have a +confession to make to you. When I began to understand how the ‘body +too many’ had effected an entrance and when I had discovered that you +did nothing to undeceive us in regard to the hour of five o’clock +at which we had believed--at which everyone, rather, except myself, +believed--that you had entered the Square Tower, I felt that I had the +right to suspect that the murderer was not the man who at five o’clock +entered the Square Tower under the form of Darzac. I thought, on the +contrary, that that Darzac might be the true Darzac and you might be +the false one. Ah, my dear M. Darzac, how I have suspected you!” + +“That was madness!” cried M. Darzac. “If I did not tell you the exact +hour at which I entered the Square Tower it was because the time was +somewhat vague in my own mind and I did not attach any importance to +it.” + +“In such a manner, M. Darzac,” continued Rouletabille, without paying +any attention to the interruptions of his interlocutor, the emotion of +the Lady in Black and our attitude, more than ever filled with terror. +“In such a manner as that you could have stolen away the true Darzac +when he came from outside and, by your own carefulness and the too +faithful help of the Lady in Black, could have taken his place and have +been perfectly able to defy detection of your audacious enterprise. +This was my imagination--only my imagination, M. Darzac; don’t let it +disturb you. But in such a manner as this, I had thought that, you +being Larsan, the man who was put in the sack was Darzac. Ah! the +fancies that I have had! and the useless suspicions!” + +“Bah!” responded Mathilde’s husband, gloomily. “We are all suspicious +here!” + +Rouletabille turned his back upon M. Darzac, put his hands in his +pocket and said, addressing himself to Mathilde, who seemed ready to +swoon before the horror of Rouletabille’s imaginings: + +“Courage for a little while longer, Madame!” + +And he began speaking again, in his “teacher’s” voice which I knew so +well, and with the air of a professor of mathematics propounding or +resolving a theorem: + +“You see, M. Darzac, there are two manifestations of Robert Darzac. +To know which was the true one and which was the one which formed a +disguise for Larsan--my duty, M. Darzac--that which the power of pure +reason showed me--was to examine, without fear or reproach, both of +these manifestations--_in all impartiality_. Thus, I begin with +you--M. Darzac.” + +M. Darzac replied: + +“It does not matter since you suspect me no longer. But you must tell +me immediately who is Larsan. I insist upon it--I demand it!” + +“We all demand it--and at once!” we all cried, turning upon both of +them. Mathilde rushed up to her child and placed herself in front of +him, as if to protect him. We felt the pathos of her attitude but the +scene had endured too long and we were beyond the limits of patience. + +“If he knows who is Larsan let him speak out and make an end of this!” +exclaimed Arthur Rance. + +And suddenly, just as the thought crossed my mind that I had heard the +same cries of anger and impatience two years before at the Court of +Assizes, another pistol shot sounded outside the door of the Square +Tower, and we were all so seized with consternation that our anger fell +away in a moment and we found ourselves not threatening Rouletabille +but entreating him to put an end as soon as possible to this +intolerable situation. At this moment, it actually seemed as though we +were each imploring him to speak out, as though we calculated that by +doing so, we would prove, not only to the others but to ourselves, that +we were not Larsan. + +As soon as the second shot was heard, the countenance of Rouletabille +changed completely. His face seemed transformed and his whole being +appeared to vibrate with a savage energy. Laying aside the half +bantering manner which he had used toward M. Darzac and which we had +all found extremely disagreeable, he gently released himself from the +clasp of the Lady in Black, who still clung to him, walked toward the +door, folded his arms and said: + +“You see, my friends, in an affair like this, it does not do to neglect +any point. There were two manifestations of Robert Darzac which entered +the Square Tower. There were two manifestations which came out--and one +of these was in the sack! That is where one loses oneself. And _even +now_, I do not wish to make any mistakes! Will M. Darzac, here +present, permit me to say that I had a hundred excuses for suspecting +him?” + +Then I thought to myself: “How unlucky that he did not mention his +suspicions to me! I would have told him about the map of Australia!” + +M. Darzac strode across the room and planted himself in front of the +young reporter and said in a tone nearly inaudible from anger: + +“What excuses? I ask you, what excuses?” + +“You will soon understand, my friend,” said the reporter with the +utmost calmness. “The first thing that I said to myself while I was +examining the conditions surrounding _your_ manifestation of +Larsan, was this: ‘Nonsense! if he were Larsan, would not Professor +Stangerson’s daughter have perceived it?’ That is self evident--the +common sense of that thought--is it not? But when I tried to look into +the mind of the lady who has become Mme. Darzac, I discovered beyond +a doubt, Monsieur, that all the while she could not free herself from +just this fear--the fear that you might be Larsan!” + +Mathilde, who had fallen half fainting into a chair, gathered strength +enough to start up and to protest against the words with a frightened, +despairing gesture. + +As for M. Darzac, his face was a picture of hopeless anguish. He sank +upon a couch and said in a voice so low that it was scarcely audible +and so full of wretchedness that it pierced our hearts: + +“And could you have thought that, Mathilde?” + +His wife dropped her eyes and spoke not a word. + +Rouletabille, still merciless, continued: + +“When I recall all the acts of Mme. Darzac after your return from San +Remo, I can see now in each one of them an expression of the terror +which she experienced from her fear that she should allow the secret of +her suspicion and her constant agony to escape her. Ah, let me speak, +M. Darzac! Everything must be said--everything must be explained here +and now if there is to be peace in the future! We are about to clear +up the situation. To go on then, there was nothing natural or happy in +Mlle. Stangerson’s behavior. The very eagerness with which she assented +to your desire to hasten the marriage ceremony proved the longing which +she felt to definitely banish the torment of her soul. Her eyes--I +remember it now!--used to say at that time--how often and how clearly! +‘Is it possible that I continue to see Larsan everywhere, even in the +face of the man who is at my side, who is going to lead me to the altar +and to take me away with him?’ + +“From the moment of your return from the South until the apparition at +the railroad station, monsieur, she lived in the most utter misery. +She was already crying for help--for help against herself--against her +thoughts--and, perhaps, even against _you_! But she dared not +reveal her thought to any person because she dreaded that any confidant +might say to her----” + +And Rouletabille leaned over and said in M. Darzac’s ear, not so low +that I could not hear, but so softly that the words did not reach +Mathilde: “Are you going mad again?” + +Then, lifting his head again, he continued: + +“You ought to understand everything better now, my dear M. Darzac--both +the strange coldness with which you were treated occasionally and also +the fits of remorseful tenderness which, in the doubt which filled her +brain, would impel Mme. Darzac to surround you with every evidence +of attention and affection. And, furthermore, allow me to tell you +that I myself have sometimes found you so gloomy and _distrait_ +that I have fancied that you must have discovered that whenever Mme. +Darzac looked at you, she could not, in spite of herself, chase from +her mind the image of Larsan. It came upon her when she spoke to +you and when she was silent--when you were beside her and when you +were at a distance. And, consequently--let us understand each other +completely--it was _not_ the belief that Professor Stangerson’s +daughter would have known it, which removed my suspicions, since, in +spite of herself, she entertained the fear all the while that you and +Larsan were one. No! no! my suspicions were removed by another cause!” + +“They might have been removed,” exclaimed M. Darzac, at once ironically +and despairingly--“they might have been removed, it would seem, by +the simple course of reasoning that if I had been Larsan, wedded to +Mlle. Stangerson, having her for my wife, I would have had every cause +for making her believe in Larsan’s death! And I would have never +resuscitated myself! Was it not upon the day that Larsan returned to +earth that I lost Mathilde?” + +“Pardon, monsieur, pardon!” replied Rouletabille, whose face had grown +as white as a sheet. “You are abandoning now, if I may say so, the +directions of pure reason. The facts which you mentioned show us just +the contrary of that which you believe we should see. For my part, +it seems to me that when one has a wife who believes, or who comes +very near to believing, that one is Larsan, one has every interest in +showing her that _Larsan exists outside of oneself_!” + +As Rouletabille uttered these words, the Lady in Black, supporting +herself by groping with her hands against the wall as she walked, came +stumblingly to the side of Rouletabille, and devoured with her eyes the +face of M. Darzac which had grown frightfully harsh and strained. As to +the rest of us, we were so struck by the novelty and the irrefutability +of Rouletabille’s reasoning, that we experienced no other emotion than +an ardent desire to know what was to follow, and we took care not to +interrupt, asking ourselves to what such a formidable hypothesis might +not lead. The young man, imperturbably, went on: + +“And, if you had an interest in showing her that Larsan existed +elsewhere than in your body, there arose an exigency in which that +interest was transformed into an immediate necessity. Imagine--I say +_imagine_, M. Darzac, that you had really brought Larsan to life +once--once only--in spite of yourself--in your own rooms--before +the eyes of Professor Stangerson’s daughter--and you will be, I +repeat, under the necessity of bringing him to life again and yet +again--outside of yourself, in order to prove to your wife that +the Larsan whom she has seen returned to life is not you! Ah, calm +yourself, my dear M. Darzac, I entreat you. Have I not told you that +my suspicion has been banished--completely banished? But it is as well +that we should divert ourselves for a few moments in reasoning the +matter out a little, after these long hours of anguish when it seemed +as though there would never be any place for reasoning again. See, +then, where I am obliged to come in considering this hypothesis as +realized (these are the procedures of mathematics which you know better +than I--you who are a scholar!)--in considering, as I said, as realized +the hypothesis that you are the counterfeit Darzac, the one which hides +Larsan. According to my reasoning, then, you are Larsan! And I asked +myself what could have happened in the railway station at Bourg to make +you appear in the form of Larsan before the eyes of your wife. The fact +of such an appearance is undeniable. It exists. And its occurrence at +that moment cannot be explained by any desire on your part to have +Larsan seen!” + +He paused for a moment, but Robert Darzac did not utter a word. + +“As you were saying, M. Darzac,” Rouletabille went on, “it was because +of this apparition of Larsan that your cup of happiness was dashed +empty to the ground. Therefore, if this resurrection should not +have been voluntary there is only one other way in which it could +have happened--through accident. And now just let us consider how +this latter supposition clears up the entire situation. Oh, I have +spent a lot of thought upon the incident at Bourg!--you see, I am +still reasoning out the problem! You (the you who is Larsan, be it +understood) are at Bourg in the buffet. You believe that your wife is +waiting for you somewhere in the station as she told you she would do. +After having finished your letters, you wish to go to your compartment +in the car in order to attend to some detail of your toilet--or, shall +we say to cast a critical eye over your disguise to see if in any +point it might be lacking? You think to yourself: ‘A few more hours of +this comedy and we shall have passed the frontier, she will be all my +own--entirely alone with me, and I will throw aside this mask’--for +the mask wearies you a little, we may imagine--so much so, indeed, +that, once arrived in your compartment, you grant yourself the grace +of a few moments of repose. You cast away your assumed character +and your disguise. You relieve yourself of the false beard and the +spectacles--and at that very moment the door of the section opens. +Your wife, thrown into a spasm of terror at the sight of Larsan’s +smooth, beardless face in the glass, does not wait to make any further +investigation and rushes out into the night, her screams drowned by the +noise of another train. You comprehend the danger at once. You realize +that everything is lost unless you can _immediately_ arrange +matters so that your wife shall see Darzac somewhere else. You quickly +resume the mask; you hurry out of the compartment and reach the buffet +by a shorter route than that taken by your wife, who rushes there to +look for you. She finds you standing up. You have not even had time +enough to seat yourself before she enters. Is everything safe now? +Alas, no! Your troubles are only beginning. For the fearful thought +that you may be at one and the same time both Darzac and Larsan will +not leave her mind. Upon the platform of the station, while passing +beneath the gas jet, she casts a frightened glance at you, lets go your +hand and runs wildly into the office of the station master. You read +her thought as though she had spoken it. The abominable idea must be +banished without a moment’s delay. You quit the office, leaving the +lady in the care of the superintendent, and immediately return, closing +the door quickly, seeking to give the impression that you, too, have +seen Larsan. In order to ease her mind, and, also, for the purpose of +deceiving us all, in case she dared reveal her suspicions to any one, +you are the first to warn me that something unforeseen has happened--to +send me a dispatch. See how clear and plain as the day your every act +becomes! You cannot refuse to take her to rejoin her father. She would +go without you. And, since nothing is yet really lost, you have the +hope that everything may be regained. In the course of the journey, +your wife continues to have alternating periods of faith in you and of +fear of you. She gives you her revolver, in a sort of half delirium, +which might sum itself up in some such phrase as this: ‘If he is +Darzac, let him protect me; if he is Larsan, let him kill me! But in +pity, let me know which he is.’ At Rochers Rouges, you realized once +more how utterly she had withdrawn herself from you and in order to +reassure her as to your identity, you showed her Larsan again. * * * +See how in accordance with reason such a proceeding would be, my dear +M. Darzac! Every fact would fit perfectly into every other under the +supposition which I am placing before you. There is not a single point +up to your appearance as Larsan at Mentone, during your journey as +Darzac to Cannes, at the time when you came to meet us, which cannot be +explained in the easiest way imaginable. You had taken the train at +Mentone Garavan before the eyes of your friends, but you alighted from +the train at the next station, which is Mentone, and there, after a +short stay for the purpose of altering your looks, you appeared in the +image of Larsan to the same friends who were promenading in the gardens +at Mentone. The following train brought you to Cannes, where you met +Sainclair and myself. Only, as you had on this occasion the vexation of +hearing from the lips of Arthur Rance when he met us at the station at +Nice, the news that Mme. Darzac had not, on this occasion, caught sight +of Larsan, you were under the necessity that same evening of showing +her Larsan under the very windows of the Square Tower, standing erect +in the prow of Tullio’s boat. So, you see, my dear M. Darzac, how even +those things which appear most complicated would have become entirely +simple and logically explicable, if, by chance, my suspicions should +have been confirmed.” + +At these words, I myself, who had seen and touched “the map of +Australia,” was unable to repress a shudder as I looked pityingly at +Robert Darzac, just as one might look at some poor man who is on the +point of becoming the victim of some hideous judicial error. And all +the others, seated around me, shuddered as well, whether for him or +on account of him, for the arguments of Rouletabille were becoming +so terribly _possible_ that each of us was asking himself how, +after having so completely established the possibility of guilt, the +young reporter could prove Darzac’s innocence. As to Robert Darzac, +after having at first evinced the deepest agitation, he had grown +quite tranquil and calm, as he listened attentively to every word that +escaped the young man’s lips. And it seemed to me that his eyes held +the same expression of astonishment, amazed and frightened, and yet +full of breathless interest, which I had seen in the eyes of accused +men at the bar of the Assizes when they had heard the Procurer General +deliver one of his wonderful disquisitions which almost convinced the +prisoners themselves that they were guilty of a crime which sometimes +they had never committed. + +“But since you no longer have these suspicions, monsieur!” he +exclaimed, his intonation singularly calm, in spite of the fact that +his voice was raised, “I should be glad to know, after all this +exercise of your talent of reasoning, what could have driven them away?” + +“In order to have them driven away, monsieur, one thing was +essential--an _absolute certitude_! And I found it--a simple but +conclusive proof which showed me in a manner complete and undeniable +which of the two manifestations of Darzac was in reality Larsan. That +proof, monsieur, was, happily, furnished me by yourself at the very +moment when you _closed the circle_--the circle in which there +had been found the ‘body too many.’!--the time when, after having +sworn that which was the truth--that you had drawn the bolt of your +apartment as soon as you had entered your sleeping room, _you had +lied to us in concealing from us that you had entered that room at +six o’clock instead of at five o’clock as Pere Bernier said and as +we ourselves could have proved. You were then the only person except +myself who knew that the Darzac who had entered at five o’clock and of +whom we had spoken to you as yourself was in reality another man. But +you said nothing. And you need not pretend that you did not attach any +importance to that hour of five o’clock, since it explained everything +to you--since it told you that another Darzac than yourself--the true +Robert Darzac--had come into the Square Tower at that time. And, after +your false expressions of astonishment, how quiet you kept! Your very +silence lied to us! And what interest could the true Darzac have in +concealing that another Darzac, who might be Larsan, had come in before +you had, and was hiding in the Square Tower? Larsan alone_ was the +only one who was interested in hiding from us that there was another +manifestation of Darzac than the one he himself bore! OF THE TWO +MANIFESTATIONS OF DARZAC, THE FALSE MUST HAVE NECESSARILY BEEN THAT +ONE WHICH LIED! Thus my suspicions were driven away by certainty. +YOU ARE LARSAN! AND THE MAN WHO WAS HIDDEN BEHIND THE PANEL WAS +DARZAC!” + +“You lie!” shouted the man (I could not even yet believe him to be +Larsan), hurling himself upon Rouletabille. + +But none of us stirred a finger and Rouletabille, who had lost nothing +of his calm demeanor, extended his arm toward the panel and said: + +“HE IS BEHIND THE PANEL NOW!” + + * * * * * + +It was an indescribable scene--a moment never to be forgotten! At the +gesture of Rouletabille, the door of the panel swung open, pushed by an +invisible hand, just as it had been on that terrible night which had +witnessed the mystery of “the body too many.” + +And the form of a man appeared. Clamors of surprise, of joy and of +terror filled the Square Tower. The Lady in Black uttered a heart +rending cry: “Robert! Robert! Robert!” + +And it was a cry of joy! Two Darzacs before us so exactly similar +that every one of us save the Lady in Black might have been deceived. +But her heart told her the truth, even admitting that her reason, +notwithstanding the triumphant conclusion of Rouletabille, might have +hesitated. Her arms outstretched, her eyes alight with love and joy, +she rushed toward the second manifestation of Darzac--the one which +had descended from the panel. Mathilde’s face was radiant with new +life; her sorrowful eyes which I had so often beheld fixed with sombre +gloom upon _that other_, were shining upon this one with a joy +as glorious as it was tranquil and assured. It was he! It was he whom +she had believed lost--whom she had sought in vain in the visage of +the other and had not found there and, therefore, had accused herself, +during the weary hours of day and night, of folly which was akin to +madness. + +As to the man who, up to the last moment I had not believed to be +guilty--as to that wretch who, unveiled and tracked to earth, found +himself suddenly face to face with the living proof of his crimes, he +attempted yet again, one of the daring coups which had so often saved +him. Surrounded on every side, he yet endeavored to flee. Then we +understood the audacious drama which in the last few moments, he had +played for our benefit. When he could no longer have any doubt as to +the issue of the discussion which he was holding with Rouletabille, he +had had the incredible self control to permit nothing of his emotions +to appear, and had also been able to prolong the situation, permitting +Rouletabille to pursue at leisure the thread of the argument at the end +of which he knew that he would find his doom, but during the progress +of which he might discover perchance some means of escape. And he had +effected his manœuvres so well that at the moment when we beheld the +other Darzac advancing toward us, we could not hinder the imposter +from disappearing at one bound within the room which had served as the +bedchamber of Mme. Darzac and closing the door violently behind him +with a rapidity which was nothing less than marvellous. We only knew +that he had vanished when it was too late to stop his flight. + +Rouletabille, during the scene which had passed had thought only of +guarding the door opening into the corridor and he had not noticed +that every movement of the false Darzac, as soon as he realized that +he was being convicted of his imposture, had been in the direction of +Mme. Darzac’s room. The reporter had attached no importance to these +movements, knowing as he did that this room did not offer any way by +which Larsan might escape. But, however, when the scoundrel was behind +the door which afforded his last refuge, our confusion increased beyond +all proportions. One might have thought that we had become suddenly +bereft of our senses. We knocked on the door. We cried out. We thought +of all his strokes of genius--of his marvellous escapes in the past! + +“He will escape us! He will get away from us again!” + +Arthur Rance was the most enraged of us all. Mme. Edith, who was +clinging to my arm, drove her finger nails into my hand in a paroxysm +of nervous fear. None of us paid any heed to the Lady in Black and +Robert Darzac who, in the midst of this tempest, seemed to have +forgotten everything, even the clamor and confusion around them. +Neither one had spoken a word but they were looking into each other’s +eyes as though they had discovered another world--the world which is +love. But they had not discovered it; they had merely found it again, +thanks to Rouletabille. + +The latter had opened the door of the corridor and summoned the three +domestics to our assistance. They entered with their rifles. But it was +axes that were needed. The door was solid and barricaded with heavy +bolts. Pere Jacques went out and fetched a beam which served us as a +battering ram. Each of us exerted all his strength and, finally, we +saw the door beginning to give way. Our anxiety was at its height. In +vain, we told ourselves that we were about to enter a room in which +there were only walls and barred windows. We expected anything--or, +rather, we expected nothing, for in the mind of each and every one of +us was the recollection of the disappearances, the flights, the actual +“dissolution of matter” which Larsan had brought about in times past +and which at this moment haunted us and drove us nearly mad. + +When the door had commenced to yield, Rouletabille directed the +servants to take up their guns, with the order, however, that the +weapons were to be used only in case it should be impossible to capture +Larsan living. Then the young reporter set his shoulder to the door +with one last powerful effort and as the boards, wrenched from their +hinges, fell to the ground, he was the first to enter the room. + +We followed him. And behind him, upon the threshold, we all halted, +stupefied by the sight which met our eyes. Larsan was there--plainly +to be seen by everyone. And this time there was no difficulty in +recognizing him. He had removed his false beard; he had put aside his +“Darzac mask”; he had resumed once more the pale, clean-shaven face +of that Frederic Larsan whom we had known at the Château of Glandier. +And his presence seemed to fill the entire room. He was lying back +comfortably in an easy chair in the center of the room and was looking +at us with his great, calm eyes. His arm was stretched along the arm of +the chair. His head was resting on the cushion at the back. One would +have said that he was giving us an audience and was waiting for us to +make known our business. It seemed to me that I could even discern an +ironical smile on his lips. + +Rouletabille advanced toward him. + +“Larsan,” he said in a voice which was not quite steady, “Larsan, do +you give yourself up?” + +But Larsan did not reply. + +Then Rouletabille touched the man’s face and his hand and we saw that +Larsan was dead. + +Rouletabille pointed to a ring on the middle finger. The collet was +open and showed a hollow cup which was empty. It must have contained a +deadly poison. + +Arthur Rance put his head against the man’s chest and assured us that +all was over. And Rouletabille entreated us to leave him alone in the +Square Tower and to try and forget the terrible events which had passed +there. + +“I will charge myself with everything,” he asserted gravely. “Here is +the ‘body too many.’ No one will inquire into the disposition which may +be made of it.” + +And he gave an order to Walter which Arthur Rance translated into +English. + +“Walter, bring me the sack which you found at the Castillon +yesterday.” + +[Illustration: Rouletabille advanced toward him: “Larsan,” he said; +“Larsan, do you give yourself up?” But Larsan did not reply.] + +Then he made a gesture to which we were all obedient--a gesture of +dismissal. And we left the son face to face with the corpse of the +father. + + * * * * * + +The next moment we saw that M. Darzac was swooning and we were obliged +to carry him into Old Bob’s sitting room. But it was only a passing +faintness and soon he opened his eyes again and smiled at Mathilde +when he saw her beautiful face bending over him with the look of +dread in which we read the fear of losing her beloved husband at the +very moment in which she had, through a chain of circumstances which +still remained wrapped in mystery, found him again. He succeeded in +convincing her that his life was not in any danger and he added his +entreaties to those of Mme. Edith that she would go away for a little +while and try to get some rest. When the two women had left us, Arthur +Rance and myself turned our attention to our friend, inquiring of him, +first of all, in regard to his curious state of health. For how could a +man whom all of us had believed to be dead, and who had been, with the +death rattle in his throat, tied up in a sack and carried away, have +been able to rise again and step down living from the fateful panel? +But when we had opened his shirt and discovered the bandage which hid +the wound that he bore in his breast, we recognized the fact that this +injury, by a chance so rare that one would scarcely believe that it +could exist, after having brought about an almost immediate state of +coma, was not a very serious one. The ball which had struck Darzac in +the midst of the savage fight which he had been obliged to make against +Larsan, had planted itself in the sternum, causing a bad external +hemorrhage and weakening the entire organism, but, fortunately, +suspending none of the vital functions. + +As we finished the task of dressing the wound Pere Jacques came to +close the door of the parlor which had remained open and I wondered +what might be the reason which had led the old man to this precaution +until I heard steps in the corridor and a strange noise--the sound that +one hears when a body is carried away on a stretcher. And I thought of +Larsan and of the sack which was holding now for the second time “the +body too many.” + +Leaving Arthur Rance to watch over M. Darzac I hurried to the window. +I had not been mistaken. I beheld the sinister funeral cortege in the +court outside. + +It was nearly nightfall. A gathering gloom surrounded everything. But +I could distinguish Walter, who had been stationed as a sentinel under +the arch of the gardener’s postern. He was looking toward the outer +court, ready, evidently, to bar the passage of anyone who might desire +to penetrate into the Court of the Bold. + +Moving onward in the direction of the oubliette, I saw Rouletabille +and Pere Jacques--two dark shadows bending over another shadow--a +shadow which I recognized and which, on that other night of horror, I +had believed to contain another dead body. The sack seemed heavy. The +two men were scarcely able to lift it to the edge of the shaft. And I +could see that the little passageway was open--yes, the heavy wooden +lid which ordinarily closed it had been removed and was lying on the +ground. Rouletabille leaped lightly over the edge of the oubliette and +then made a step downward. He showed no hesitation; the way seemed to +be familiar to him. In a few moments his figure vanished from sight. +Then Pere Jacques pushed the sack into the passageway and leaned over +the edge, apparently still holding on to his burden which I could no +longer see. Then he stood back, closed up the opening and adjusted the +iron bars and in doing so made a sound which I suddenly remembered--the +sound which had puzzled me so much that evening when, before the +“discovery of Australia,” I had rushed in pursuit of a shadow which had +suddenly disappeared and which I had searched for up to the very door +of the New Castle. + + * * * * * + +I felt that I must see--up to the very last moment. I must know all! +Too many strange and inexplicable things were filling my soul with +anxiety already. I had learned the most important part of the truth, +but I had not all of the truth--or, rather, something which would +explain the truth was still lacking. + +I left the Square Tower; I went to my own room in the New Castle, I +stationed myself at the window and my eyes lost themselves in the +depths of the shadows which covered the sea. Thick darkness; jealous +shadows. Nothing more. And then I strained my ears to listen, although +I knew that there was not the faintest sound of the strokes of the oar. + +All at once--far--very far off--it seemed to me that all this was +passing so far over the sea that it crossed the horizon--or, rather, +approached the horizon--I fancied that I could see in the narrow red +band which was all that remained of the setting sun something that +seemed more unreal than a vision. + +Into that narrow red band an object entered--something dark and very +small, but to my eyes, which were fixed upon it in breathless suspense, +it seemed the greatest and most formidable sight that I had ever +beheld. It was the shadow of a fishing smack which glided over the +waters as automatically as though it were propelled by machinery and as +its movements became slower, and I saw it emerging from the gloom, I +recognized the form of Rouletabille. The oars ceased to move and I saw +my friend rise to his feet. I could recognize him and see everything +which he did as clearly as if he had not been ten yards away from me. +His gestures were outlined against the red background of the sunset +with a fantastic precision. + +What he had to do did not take long. He leaned over and got up again, +lifting in his arms something which seemed to mix with his form and +become a part of himself in the darkness. And then the burden glided +down into the water and the man’s figure reappeared alone, still +bending, still leaning over the edge of the boat, remaining thus for an +instant motionless, and then once more picking up the oars of the bark +which resumed its automatic motion until it had disappeared completely +from the dying glare of the ever narrowing band of red. And then the +band of red, too, vanished. + +Rouletabille had consigned the body of Larsan to the waves of Hercules. + + + + + EPILOGUE + + +Nice--Cannes--Saint-Raphael--Toulon. I saw without regret all the +stages of my return trip passing before my eyes. Upon the very day +which had followed all the horrible things I have related, I hastened +to quit the Midi, anxious to find myself once more in Paris and to +plunge into my business affairs--and anxious also to find myself alone +with Rouletabille, who was now only a few feet away from me, locked up +in a private compartment with the Lady in Black. Up to the very last +moment--that is to say, as far as Marseilles, where they were obliged +to separate, I was unwilling to interrupt their tender and sorrowful +confidences, their plans for the future, their fond farewells. Despite +all the prayers of Mathilde Rouletabille was determined to leave her, +to return to Paris and to his paper. The son had the superb heroism of +effacing himself for the sake of the husband. The Lady in Black had not +been able to resist Rouletabille and the boy had dictated exactly what +should be done. He had directed that _M. and Mme. Darzac_ must +continue their honeymoon trip as if nothing remarkable had happened at +Rochers Rouges. It was one Darzac who had begun the journey; it was +another Darzac who was to finish it--this trip which had become such a +happy one--but in the eyes of all the world Darzac would be the same +man without any suspicion that things had ever been otherwise. + +M. and Mme. Darzac were married. The civil law united them. As to the +religious law, as Rouletabille said, the affair might easily be laid +before the Pope while the couple were in Rome and there would, without +doubt, be found means of regularizing the situation, if there was found +to be need of it or if the conscientious scruples of the couple desired +it. And Robert Darzac and his wife were happy--completely happy. They +belonged to each other. + +At Rochers Rouges--at the “Louve” itself, we had said adieu to +Professor Stangerson. Robert Darzac had departed immediately for +Bordighera, where Mathilde was to join him. Arthur Rance and Mme. Edith +accompanied us to the railroad station. My charming hostess, contrary +to my hope, evinced no great amount of concern at my departure. I +attributed this indifference to the fact that Prince Galitch had +come to the quay to see us off. Mme. Edith was giving him the latest +bulletin from Old Bob’s bedside (which was excellent, by the way), and +paid no further attention to me. I felt a real pang of--was it grief +or wounded self love? And here and now, I have a confession to make to +the reader. Never would I have allowed myself to betray the sentiments +which I had entertained toward her, if, several years later, after the +death of Arthur Rance, which was surrounded and followed by a most +terrible tragedy of which I may relate the history one day, I had not +married the dark eyed, melancholy, romantic Edith! + + * * * * * + +We were approaching Marseilles. + +Marseilles! + +The farewells were heartrending, although neither Rouletabille nor the +Lady in Black uttered a word. + +And as the train bore us away we saw her standing on the platform in +the station, without a movement or gesture, her arms hanging at her +side, looking in her sombre draperies like a statue of mourning and of +sorrow. + +I saw in front of me Rouletabille’s shoulders shaken with sobs. + + * * * * * + +Lyons. We could not sleep. We alighted from the train and walked about +the station. Both of us recalled the moment when we had been there +before--only a few days past--when we were rushing to the rescue of the +most unhappy of women. My thoughts plunged once more into the memories +of the tragedy and I knew that Rouletabille’s were following the same +track. And now Rouletabille spoke--spoke in a voice which he tried to +make sound careless and light hearted and which made me understand that +he was endeavoring to efface from his mind the thought of the grief +which had made him sob like a little child only a short while ago. + +“Old man!” he said, with a smile, throwing his arm across my shoulder. +“That Brignolles was really a beast!” and he looked at me with such an +air of reproach that he almost succeeded in making me believe for a +moment that I had ever taken the creature for an honest man. + +And then he told me everything--all the marvellous, horrible story +which I am compressing here into a few lines. Larsan had had need of +some relative of Darzac in order that he might obtain the necessary +signature for the incarceration of the Sorbonne professor in a +madhouse. And he discovered Brignolles. He could not have fallen +upon a better man for his purpose. Everyone knows how simple it is, +even to-day, to have a human being, no matter who he may be, locked +up in a cell. The desire of a relative and the signature of a medical +man is sufficient in France, impossible as the thing appears, for the +accomplishment of this task which may be performed with the utmost +celerity. The matter of a signature never embarrassed Larsan in his +life. He forged one--that of an eminent alienist--and Brignolles, +richly reimbursed, charged himself with the rest. When Brignolles came +to Paris, he was already a party to the combination. Larsan had formed +his plan--to take Darzac’s place before the wedding. The accident to +the young professor’s eyes had been, as I had believed from the first, +the result of design. Brignolles had been directed to manage in some +manner so that Darzac’s eyes might be sufficiently injured that Larsan, +when he took his place, might have in his trickery the important +adjunct of dark spectacles, or, failing spectacles, which one cannot +wear always, the right to sit in the shadow without arousing suspicion. + +The departure of Darzac for the Midi must have strangely facilitated +the plans of the two villains. It was not until the end of his sojourn +at San Remo that Darzac had been, by the efforts of Larsan who had +never ceased to spy upon him, actually dragged to the lunatic asylum. +He had been assisted materially in this affair by that “special police +force” which has nothing to do with police officials and which puts +itself at the disposal of families in certain disagreeable cases which +demand as much discretion as rapidity in their execution. + +One day M. Darzac was taking a walk in the mountains. The asylum was +not far away--in fact, only a few steps from the Italian frontier--and +every preparation for the reception of “the unfortunate man” had been +made some time beforehand. Brignolles, before leaving for Paris at all, +had made arrangements with the proprietor and had presented to him +his proofs of relationship, and his representative--Larsan himself. +There are certain directors of such institutions who do not ask for +explanations, provided that the provisions of the law are complied +with--and that one pays well. And both these conditions were easily +carried out. And such things are done every day! + +“But how did you find out all these things?” I demanded of Rouletabille. + +“You remember, my friend,” the reporter replied, “that little piece +of paper which you brought back to the Château of Hercules on the day +when, without giving me any warning, you took it upon yourself to +follow the trail of the excellent Brignolles, who had come to make a +short stay in the Midi? That bit of paper, which bore the heading of +the Sorbonne and the two syllables, _bonnet_, gave me the most +important assistance. First of all, the circumstances under which you +found it--you recollect that you picked it up after you had seen Larsan +and Brignolles?--rendered it precious to me. And then the place where +it had been thrown was nearly a revelation for me when I began to take +up the search for the real Darzac, after I had gained the conviction +that his was ‘the body too many’ which had been tied up in the sack and +carried out in it.” + +And Rouletabille went on in the simplest manner possible, taking me in +his narrative over the different phases necessary for my comprehension +of the mysteries which, up to that time, had remained so inexplicable +to every one of us. The first step in his reasoning had come from the +conclusions which he had drawn from the fact that the paint on the +drawing would dry less than fifteen minutes after it had been laid on, +and following that, the other formidable fact that a lie must have +been told by one of the two manifestations of Darzac. Bernier, under +the cross examination to which Rouletabille subjected him before the +return of the man who had carried the sack, had reported the lying +words of the man whom everyone had believed to be Darzac. That was what +had astonished Bernier--that the man who had come in at six o’clock +had not told him that the man who had entered at six o’clock _was +not he_! He was trying to conceal the fact that there existed a +second manifestation of Darzac and he would have had no interest in +concealing it, if his own personality had been the true one. That was +clear as the light of day! When the horror of the thing dawned upon +Rouletabille, he nearly swooned. His limbs refused to support him; +his teeth chattered; everything grew black in front of his eyes. But +he was not entirely without hope, even yet. Bernier might have been +mistaken. Perhaps he had not correctly understood the words which M. +Darzac had spoken in his amazement and confusion! Rouletabille decided +that he himself would question M. Darzac. Then he would soon see. How +he longed for his return! It would be for M. Darzac himself to “close +the circle.” He waited impatiently--and when Darzac returned how the +young reporter’s feeble hopes were crushed! “Did you look at the man’s +face?” he had asked; and when the so-called Darzac replied, “No--I +did not look at him!” Rouletabille could hardly hide his joy. It would +have been so easy for Larsan to have answered, “I saw him. The face +was that of Larsan!” And the young man had not understood that this +was the last piece of malice--the furthest limit of hatred in the mind +of the villain--and, too, one which fitted so well into his role. The +real Darzac would not have acted otherwise. He would have gotten rid +of his frightful booty as soon as possible without wishing to look at +it. But what could all the artifices of a Larsan accomplish against the +reasonings of a Rouletabille? The false Darzac, under the questionings +of Rouletabille had “closed the circle.” He had lied. Now Rouletabille +_knew_! And besides his eyes, which always looked _behind_ the +reason, could see now. + +But what was to be done? Could he expose Larsan immediately and, +perhaps, give him a chance to escape? Could he reveal to his mother the +fact that she was married to Larsan and had helped him to kill Darzac? +No--a thousand times no! He felt the need of reflection--of combining +circumstances and possibilities. He wished to strike a sure blow when +he was ready to strike at all. He asked for twenty-four hours. He made +sure of the safety of the Lady in Black by begging her to take the +unoccupied room in Professor Stangerson’s suite and he made her take a +secret oath that she would not leave the château. He deceived Larsan +by making him think that he was firmly convinced of the guilt of Old +Bob. And when Walter rushed into the château with his empty sack the +first gleam of hope that Darzac might still be alive dawned upon his +mind. At last, he rushed off to find him, dead or living. He had in +his possession the revolver belonging to the real Darzac which he had +found in the Square Tower--a new revolver of which he had noticed the +style in a shop at Mentone. He went to that shop; he showed the clerk +the revolver; he learned that the weapon had been purchased a few days +before by a man of whom he was given a description--a soft hat, a loose +gray overcoat and a heavy beard. From there he lost all trace of the +man, but he was not discouraged. He took up another trail, or, rather, +he resumed that one which had led Walter to the gulfs of Castillon. +When he arrived there, he did what Walter had not done. The latter, as +soon as he had found the sack, looked for nothing more but hurried back +to the Fort of Hercules. But Rouletabille, on the contrary, continued +to follow the scent--and he perceived that this scent (which consisted +of the exceptional clearness of the impressions left by the two wheels +of the little English cart) instead of going back toward Mentone, after +having stopped at the abyss of Castillon, went toward the other side, +crossing by the mountain toward Sospel. Sospel! Had not Brignolles been +reported as having gone to Sospel? Brignolles! Rouletabille remembered +my sudden and interrupted journey. What could Brignolles be doing in +these parts? His presence might be closely allied to the solution of +the mystery. Certainly, the reappearance and disappearance of the +true Darzac suggested the idea that he must have been kept somewhere +in confinement. But where? Brignolles, who was undoubtedly in the +confidence of Larsan, had not made the journey from Paris for nothing. +Perhaps he had come at that critical moment to watch over this place +of confinement. Meditating thus and pursuing the logical tenor of his +reasoning, Rouletabille had questioned the landlord of the inn near +the Castillon tunnel, who had acknowledged to him that he had been +very much puzzled the day before by the passage through the tunnel of +a man who perfectly answered the description which had been given by +the gunsmith. This man had entered the tavern to drink. His manner and +appearance were so strange that the landlord had feared that he might +have escaped from the sanitarium. Rouletabille felt that he was on +the right track and asked as indifferently as he could, “You have a +sanitarium near here then?” “Oh, yes,” replied the landlord; “the Mount +Barbonnet sanitarium for mental diseases.” It was at this point that +the memory of the two syllables “bonnet” flashed in full significance +upon the brain of Rouletabille. Henceforth, he had no longer any doubt +that the real Darzac had been immolated by the false one as a madman in +the sanitarium of Mount Barbonnet. He was resolved to know everything +and to venture everything! He was certain that as a reporter of the +Epoch he possessed the means of loosening the tongue of proprietors of +sanitariums of the kind which take college professors as patients and +ask no questions. He hired a carriage and had himself driven to Sospel, +which is at the foot of the mountains. He realized that he was running +the chance of encountering Brignolles. But, fortunately, nothing of +the kind happened and the young man reached Mount Barbonnet and the +sanitarium in safety. His mind was filled now with the thought that he +was at last--definitely--to learn what had become of Robert Darzac! For +at the moment that the sack had been found without the corpse--from +the moment that the tracks of the little carriage descended toward +Sospel or elsewhere and lost themselves; from the moment that he +had discovered that Larsan had not considered it prudent to relieve +himself of Darzac by throwing him in the sack into one of the gulfs of +Castillon, Rouletabille had believed that Larsan might have found it to +his interest to return the living Darzac to the madhouse at Sospel. And +the reasoning powers of Rouletabille showed him that this might well +be so. Darzac living might be more useful to Larsan than Darzac dead. +What hostage would he have otherwise on the day when Mathilde should +discover his imposture? + +And Rouletabille had guessed aright. At the very door of the asylum, +he had encountered Brignolles. Immediately, without warning, he +had seized him by the throat and threatened him with his revolver. +Brignolles was a coward. He entreated Rouletabille to spare him, vowing +that Darzac was living. A quarter of an hour later Rouletabille knew +the whole story. But the revolver had not sufficed, for Brignolles, +who feared and hated the thought of death, loved life and everything +which renders life desirable, particularly money. Rouletabille had not +much trouble to convince him that he was lost if he did not betray +Larsan and that he had much to gain if he helped the Darzac family to +extricate itself from the present situation without scandal. At the +close of the interview, both men entered the institution and were there +received by the director, who listened to what they had to say with +an amazement which was soon transformed into terror and later to the +greatest affability which showed itself in immediate preparations for +the release of Robert Darzac. + +Darzac, by the miraculous chance which I have already explained, had +sustained only a very slight injury from a wound which might easily +have been mortal. Rouletabille, almost wild with joy, took him at once +to Mentone. I will pass over the transports of both the rescuer and the +rescued. They had disposed of Brignolles by agreeing to meet him in +Paris for the settling of the accounts. On the journey, Rouletabille +learned from the lips of Darzac that the Sorbonne Professor in his +prison had a few days before happened to see the newspaper which spoke +of the fact that M. and Mme. Darzac, whose wedding had just taken place +in Paris, were guests at the Fort of Hercules. He had no further to +look in order to comprehend why all his misfortunes had taken place +and it was not difficult to guess who had had the fantastic audacity +to take his place at the side of the unfortunate woman whose still +wavering mind would have rendered so wild an enterprise not impossible. +This discovery seemed to give him strength which he had not guessed +that he possessed. After having stolen the overcoat of the director in +order to conceal his asylum garb and having found a purse containing +an hundred francs in the pocket, he had succeeded, at the risk of his +life, in scaling a wall which under any other circumstances he would +certainly have found insurmountable, and he had gone to Mentone. He +had hastened to the Fort of Hercules. And he had seen Darzac with his +own eyes! He had seen his very self. He spent a few hours in making +himself so like his double in dress and appearance that the other +Darzac himself might have been puzzled to find out which was which. His +plan was simple. He would make his way into the Fort of Hercules in +his own proper person--would enter the apartment of Mathilde and show +himself to the other man in Mathilde’s presence, confounding him with +the truth. He had questioned the people of the coast and had learned +that the Darzacs’ suite was located at the back part of the Square +Tower. “The Darzacs’ suite”! All that he had suffered up to that time +seemed like nothing in comparison with what he felt at those words. And +this suffering had been without surcease until he had seen with his own +eyes, at the time of the corporeal demonstration of the possibility of +the “body too many,” the Lady in Black. Then he had understood all. +Never would she have dared to look at him like that, never would have +so joyously flown to the refuge of his arms, if for a single instant, +in body or in spirit, she had been the victim of the machinations of +that other man and had belonged to him as his wife. Robert Darzac and +Mathilde had been separated--but they had never lost each other! + +Before putting his project into execution, Darzac had purchased a +revolver at Mentone, had disembarrassed himself of his overcoat +which he had managed to lose, believing that it would be a means of +identification, had procured a suit of clothes which in color and in +cut was the counterpart of that worn by the other Darzac and had waited +until five o’clock--the hour at which he had resolved to act. He had +hidden himself behind the Villa Lucie, high up on the boulevard at +Garavan, at the top of a little hillock from which he could see plainly +all that was passing in the château. When he had passed by us and we +had both seen him he had had a fierce desire to cry out and tell us who +he was, but he had strength of mind enough to contain himself, desiring +to be recognized first of all by the Lady in Black. This hope alone +sustained his steps. This only was worth the trouble of living and an +hour afterward, when he had had the life of Larsan at his disposal +while the latter sat in the same room with his back turned to him, +writing letters, he had not even been tempted by the idea of vengeance. +After so many sorrows, there was no room in Robert Darzac’s heart for +hatred of Larsan; it was too full of love for the Lady in Black. Poor +dear pitiful M. Darzac! + +We know the rest of the adventure. That which I did not know was the +way in which the true M. Darzac had penetrated a second time into the +Fort of Hercules and had obtained entrance a second time into the +recess hidden by the panel. And Rouletabille told me how on the same +night that he had taken M. Darzac to Mentone, he had learned through +the flight of Old Bob that there existed an entrance to the castle +through the oubliette and so he had, by the help of a little boat, +smuggled M. Darzac into the château by the way which Old Bob had taken +in going out. Rouletabille wished to be master of the hour when he came +to confound Larsan and strike him down. On that night it was too late +to act, but he felt that he could count upon finishing up the affair +on the night following. The only thing was how to hide M. Darzac on +the peninsula. And with the aid of Bernier, he had found him a quiet, +deserted little corner in the New Château. + +At this point of the narrative, I could not hinder myself from +interrupting Rouletabille with a cry which had the effect of sending +him into a burst of laughter. + +“It was really he then!” I exclaimed. + +“It really was!” answered my friend. + +“That was how I was able to find the ‘map of Australia’! It was +the true Darzac with whom I stood face to face that night! And I +who understood nothing that was going on! For it was not only the +‘Australia’--it was the beard as well. And it did not come off--it was +natural! Oh, now, I understand everything!” + +“You’ve taken time enough about it!” replied Rouletabille, tranquilly. +“That night, old fellow, you caused us a lot of trouble. When you made +your appearance in the Court of the Bold, M. Darzac had come to take +me back to my underground passage. I had only time enough to close +the wooden lid above my head, while M. Darzac rushed back to the New +Castle. But when you had retired, after your experience with the beard, +he came back to me and we were bothered enough, I assure you. If, by +chance, you should speak of this adventure upon the morrow to the other +M. Darzac, believing that he was the same man you had seen in the New +Château, there would be a catastrophe. But I dared not yield to the +pleadings of M. Darzac, who begged me to go to you and tell you the +whole truth. I was afraid that, knowing how matters stood, you would +be unable to hide your feelings during the following day. You have a +rather impulsive nature, Sainclair, and the sight of a bad man usually +arouses in you a praiseworthy irritation which at such a moment might +have ruined us. And then, the other Darzac was so cunning and so +clever! I resolved to bring about the climax without saying anything to +you! I would return to the château the next morning. And from that time +on it was necessary to manage things so that you should not speak to +Darzac. That was why, as soon as it was daylight, I sent you word to go +fishing for brook trout----” + +“Oh, I understand!” + +“You always finish by understanding, Sainclair! I hope that you have +forgiven me for that fault which gave you such a charming hour with +Mme. Edith!” + +“Apropos of Mme. Edith, why did you take such a mischievous pleasure in +putting me into such a fit of anger?” I demanded. + +“In order to have the right to abuse you and to forbid you to speak +henceforward, one word to me _or to M. Darzac_! I repeat to you +that, after your adventure of the night before, it would not have +done to let you talk to M. Darzac. Try to understand the position, +Sainclair!” + +“I’ll try, my friend!” + +“Much obliged!” + +“And still there is one thing that I don’t understand!” I exclaimed. +“The death of Pere Bernier. Who killed Bernier?” + +“It was the cane!” said Rouletabille, gloomily. “It was that damned +cane!” + +“I thought that it was ‘the oldest dagger known to humanity.’” + +“It was both of them; the cane and the flint. But it was the cane which +decided his death; the stone was only his executioner.” + +I stared at Rouletabille, asking myself whether, this time, I had not +come to the end of his intelligence. + +“You never understood, Sainclair--among other things--why upon the +morrow of the day on which I had come to comprehend everything, I had +let fall Arthur Rance’s ivory-headed cane in front of M. and Mme. +Darzac. It was because I hoped that M. Darzac would pick it up. You +remember, Sainclair, the ivory-headed cane which Larsan used to carry +and the gestures he was in the habit of making with it while we were at +the Glandier? He had a fashion of holding his cane which was all his +own. I wanted to see whether Darzac would hold an ivory-headed cane as +Larsan had used to do. And this fixed idea pursued me until the morrow, +even after my visit to the insane asylum. Even after I had seen and +felt the true Darzac, I longed to see the imposter make the gestures of +Larsan. Ah, to see him suddenly brandish his cane like a bandit--forget +the disguise of his figure for one single moment! throw back his +falsely stooped shoulders. ‘Knock it, please! Knock at the shield of +the Mortolas with heavy blows of the cane, dear, dear M. Darzac!’ And +he knocked it--and I saw his form--erect--undisguised! And another man +saw it and he is dead! It was poor Bernier, who was so horrified at +the sight that he stumbled and fell so unfortunately on the ‘oldest +dagger’ that the wound killed him. He is dead because he picked up the +flint which, doubtless, had fallen out of Old Bob’s overcoat and which +Bernier had intended to take to the workshop of the Professor in the +Round Tower! He is dead, because at the same moment that he picked +up the flint he saw Larsan brandishing his cane--saw the scoundrel’s +figure and his gestures! All battles, Sainclair, have their innocent +victims!” + +We were both silent for a moment. And I could not keep myself from +mentioning the bitterness which I felt at the knowledge that he had had +so little confidence in me. I could not pardon him for having deceived +me as he had done everyone else in regard to Old Bob. + +He smiled. + +“That was something that didn’t bother me at all. I was certain enough +that he was not in the sack! However on the night before he was fished +out of the grotto after I had hidden the true Darzac, under the +guidance of Bernier, in the New Château, and had left the gallery of +the underground passage after having left there my boat in readiness +for my projects of the morrow--my boat which had belonged to Paolo, a +fisherman, and a friend of ‘the Hangman of the Sea,’ I regained the +bank by my oars. I was undressed and carried my clothing in a package +on my head. As I went on, I met Paolo who was amazed to see me taking a +bath at such an hour and invited me to go fishing with him. I accepted. +And then I learned that the bark which I had used belonged to Tullio. +The ‘Hangman of the Sea’ had suddenly become rich and had announced to +everyone that he was about to return to his native country. He said +that he had sold some precious shells to the old professor for a very +great deal of money and, in fact, for many days past, he had been seen +a great deal in ‘the old professor’s’ company. Paolo knew that before +going to Venice, Tullio intended to stop at San Remo. When I heard all +this, I had a clear insight into Old Bob’s behavior and disappearance. +He had needed a boat in quitting the château and this boat was that +of the ‘Hangman of the Sea.’ I asked him for the address of Tullio in +San Remo and sent it to Arthur Rance in an anonymous letter. Rance +started for San Remo, believing that Tullio could inform him as to the +fate of Old Bob. And, in fact, Old Bob had paid Tullio to take him +to the grotto and then to disappear. It was out of pity for the old +savant that I had decided to warn Arthur Rance; for I feared that some +accident might have befallen his relative. As for myself, all that I +could ask was that the old dandy would not put in an appearance before +I had finished with Larsan, for I wanted the false Darzac to believe +that Old Bob was occupying my mind to the exclusion of everything +else. And when I learned that he really had returned, I was, at first, +only half pleased, but I confess that the news of the wound in his +breast (because of the wound in the breast of the man in the sack) did +not cause me any pain at all. Thanks to that injury, I might hope to +continue my game a few hours longer.” + +“And why should you not have abandoned it immediately?” + +“Don’t you understand that it would have been impossible for me to +have gotten rid of the body of Larsan in the daylight? A whole day was +necessary to prepare for the disappearance by night. But what a day we +had with the death of Bernier! The arrival of the gendarmes only served +to simplify the affair. I waited until I knew that they were gone. The +first rifle shot that you heard when we were in the Square Tower was +to inform me that the last gendarme had quitted the tavern at Albo, at +the Point of Garibaldi; the second told me that the customs officers +had gone into their cabins and were at supper and that _the sea was +free_!” + +“Tell me, Rouletabille,” I said, looking into his clear eyes. “When you +left Tullio’s boat at the end of the gallery of the passageway, for +the carrying out of your plans, did you know already _what that boat +would carry away on the morrow_?” + +Rouletabille bowed his head. + +“No,” he answered, sadly and slowly. “No--do not think that, Sainclair! +I did not expect that it would carry away a corpse. After all--he was +my father! _I believed that the boat would carry the ‘body too many’ +to the madhouse!_ You understand, Sainclair? I would only have +condemned him to prison--forever. But he killed himself. It is God who +did it. May God forgive him!” + +We never spoke again of that night. + +At Laroche I was anxious for a hot supper, but Rouletabille refused +to join me. He bought all the Paris papers and buried himself in the +events of the day. The journals were filled with news from Russia. +A great conspiracy against the Czar had been discovered at St. +Petersburg. The facts related were so wonderful that they were almost +incredible. + +I unfolded the Epoch and I read in great black letters on the first +column of the first page: + + “DEPARTURE OF JOSEPH ROULETABILLE + FOR RUSSIA.” + +And underneath: + + “THE CZAR IMPLORES HIS AID.” + +I passed the paper to Rouletabille, who shrugged his shoulders and +said: “That’s a nice thing! Without even asking my opinion! What does +that fool of an editor think that I am going to do out there? I’m +not interested in the Czar. Let him and his Nihilists settle their +squabbles for themselves! It is their affair, not mine! To Russia? I +shall apply for a vacation--that’s what I’ll do! I need rest. I’ll +tell you, Sainclair, you and I will go somewhere together. We’ll take a +nice, quiet rest----” + +“Not if I know it!” I cried hastily. “Thanks very much but I have had +enough of your kind of ‘nice, quiet rest’! I have a wild desire to +work!” + +“Just as you like. I won’t insist.” + +As we drew nearer Paris, he bathed his hands and face, combed his hair +and turned out his pockets. And in one of them he was surprised to find +a red envelope which had come there without anyone knowing how. + +“What nonsense is this?” he remarked carelessly, tearing it open. + +Then he burst into a peal of laughter. I had found my gay Rouletabille +again and I was anxious to know the reason for this hilarity. + +“Why, I’m going, old man!” he exclaimed. “I’m going to start +immediately! When things begin to come like this, it’s a little +different. I shall take the train to-night.” + +“Where to?” + +“To St. Petersburg.” + +He handed me the letter and I read: + + “We know, monsieur, that your paper has decided to send you to Russia, + on account of the incidents which are at this time disturbing the + court of Turkoie-Selo. _We are obliged to warn you that you will not + reach St. Petersburg alive._ + +“(Signed) + + “THE CENTRAL REVOLUTIONARY COMMITTEE.” + +I looked at Rouletabille, whose eyes were shining with delight. +“Prince Galitch was at the station,” I remarked. He understood me and +shrugging his shoulders indifferently, he repeated: + +“Ah, now, old fellow, this begins to be amusing!” + +And this was all that I could get out of him, in spite of my +protestations. And that night when, at the Northern station, I put my +arms around him and begged him not to go, the tears in my eyes as I +spoke--he laughed again and repeated: + +“This is just beginning to be amusing!” + +And that was his farewell. + +The following day I took up the work which was waiting for me at the +Palace. The first of my colleagues whom I saw were MM. Henri-Robert and +Andre Hesse. + +“Did you have a pleasant holiday?” they asked me. + +“Delightful!” I responded. + +But I made such a grimace as I spoke that they both dragged me off to +take a drink with them. + + + THE END + + + + + THE GREAT HISTORICAL NOVEL ON NAPOLEON BONAPARTE + + =The God of Clay= + + _By_ H. C. BAILEY + + With illustrations by ALEC C. BALL + + _12mo, Cloth, $1.50_ + + +This is a remarkable historical novel with Napoleon Bonaparte for its +hero. + +Mr. Bailey writes of the times when the spirit of man, long cheated and +chained, broke fiercely forth and swept the old tyrant powers away, and +made France a clean land where freemen can live. + +Out of chaos men cried for order and law. And then came Napoleon--the +brain of a god and a mean man’s heart. + +Of Napoleon, of the men and women who loved him sometimes, the author +writes in this book; how their lines crossed and clashed under the +fool’s tyranny of Old France amid the rushing, murderous mad pageant of +the Terror, and again, and yet again, when Napoleon had won power and +glory and worship and hate and pity. + +Mr. H. C. Bailey’s book is a masterpiece; perhaps one of the very great +historical novels of modern days. + + + BRENTANO’S + + Fifth Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street, New York + + + + + _The Great Detective Story from the French_ + + =THE MYSTERY OF THE YELLOW ROOM= + + _By_ GASTON LEROUX + + 12mo, Cloth, $1.50 + + +_Boston Herald_:--“For the many who delight in following the +intricacies of crime and the avenging hand of justice this book has +rare charms.” + +_Detroit Journal_:--“For the blood-curdling mystery to be solved +only by a prematurely acute young reporter who has Sherlock Holmes +beaten to a stand-still, it would be hard to duplicate ‘The Mystery of +the Yellow Room.’” + +_Pittsburg Dispatch_:--“The plot of this remarkable story is +so intricately woven and so elaborately developed that the reader’s +attention is positively enthralled from beginning to end.” + +_St. Paul News_:--“The author uses a young journalist as his hero. +He has a mystery to solve, of course, but how he solves it is what +readers of the ‘Yellow Room’ sit up nights and forget dinner hours to +find out.” + + + BRENTANO’S + + Fifth Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street, New York + + + + + _A remarkable novel of London “Life.” One of the most striking pieces + of fiction of modern days._ + + =ADAM’S CLAY= + + _By_ COSMO HAMILTON + + 12mo, Cloth, $1.50 + + +_The New York Evening Post_:--“This is a book which presents a not +ungrateful challenge to the critic whose lot it is to deal with the +‘ordinary run’ of English and American fiction. It is, at all events, +not dull. Perhaps one may best suggest its quality by naming it a story +not for the young person: it has precisely that Gallic attribute of +intelligibility. By this we do not mean the absolute worst; it is not a +sheer deliberate salacity, framed for the indecent amusement of those +who leer and giggle.” + +_San Francisco Examiner_:--“A highly entertaining story.... It is +one of those stories that once begun will not let itself be laid aside. +The situations as they follow are dramatic, pathetic, and extremely +well drawn.” + +_New York Sun_:--“The epigrammatic cynicism of the text is clever +and startling, the delineation of characters skilful and undisturbed by +any restrictions of propriety in its frankness. ‘Man is fire and woman +tow; the devil comes and sets them in a blaze,’ is the proverb upon +which the tale is founded.” + + + BRENTANO’S + + Fifth Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street, New York + + + + + =Lafcadio Hearn= + + Letters from the Raven + + Being the Correspondence of + + LAFCADIO HEARN _with_ HENRY WATKIN + + _Edited by_ MILTON BRONNER + + 12mo, Half Cloth, Gilt Top, $1.25 net + + +_Chicago Record Herald_:--“All who have felt the delight of +Lafcadio Hearn’s ‘sinuous, silvery, poetical prose’ ... will treasure +the little volume ... containing Hearn’s correspondence with Watkin, +the Cincinnati printer, who was his one lifelong friend. Out of that +rare friendship grew this volume of letters, which does more than else +to reveal the shy, sensitive, restless soul of Lafcadio Hearn.... The +whole volume is worth reading again and again, merely for its verbal +melody and the weird originality of its figures.” + +_The Globe_:--“One of the most interesting series of letters that +has yet been published out of the large correspondence of the late +Lafcadio Hearn.” + +_New York Press_:--“A distinct addition to the knowledge we now +have of this extraordinary man.” + +_Troy Times_:--“This collection of letters gives a wonderful +insight into that mystery, beauty and charm which pervade the writings +of Lafcadio Hearn, and by their very intimacy and frankness picture his +mood and the development of those inborn emotions at a time when they +were clamoring for expression.” + +_Louisville Times_:--“These letters give the only insight +obtainable into the personality of Hearn.” + +_Indianapolis News_:--“A wonderfully interesting book.... These +letters of Lafcadio Hearn are a fascinating, psychological study. +They are in such beautiful English they are a delight to the ear. +His picturesque and trenchant references to art, literature, and +religion make the letters doubly interesting. This is one of the most +significant of recent publications.” + + + BRENTANO’S, Fifth Ave. and 27th St., New York + + + + + =TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES= + + +Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. + +Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a +predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they +were not changed. + +Unicode prime characters and lack of accent in the French words have +been kept as in the original version. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75258 *** diff --git a/75258-h/75258-h.htm b/75258-h/75258-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..af7017b --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/75258-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12150 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Perfume of the Lady in Black | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +/* General headers */ + +h1 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{font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.caption {font-weight: normal; + font-size: 90%; + text-align: right; + padding-bottom: 1em;} + +.caption p +{ + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + margin: 0.25em 0; +} + +/* Images */ + +img {max-width: 100%; width: 100%; height: auto;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75258 ***</div> + + +<p class="nindc"><span class="large">The Perfume of the Lady in Black</span></p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<figure class="figcenter" id="cover" style="width: 1600px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="1600" height="2583" alt="Joseph Rouletabille, the young journalist turned detective, is once more pitted against his arch-enemy Frédéric Larsan."> +</figure> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h1>THE PERFUME OF<br> +THE LADY IN BLACK</h1> + +<p class="nindc"><span class="large">By GASTON LEROUX</span></p> + +<p class="nindc space-above2 space-below2"><i>Author of “The Mystery of the Yellow Room”</i></p> + +<p class="nindc space-above2"><span class="allsmcap">NEW YORK</span> +BRENTANO’S<br> +1909<br> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="nindc space-above2 space-below2"> +Copyright, 1909, by<br> +BRENTANO’S<br> +</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table class="autotable" > +<tbody><tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span></td> +<td class="tdl"> </td> +<td class="tdr"> <span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">I</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">WHICH BEGINS WHERE MOST ROMANCES +END</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">II</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">IN WHICH THERE IS QUESTION OF THE<br> +<span class="tdlh2">CHANGING HUMORS OF JOSEPH ROULETABILLE</span></span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">III</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE PERFUME</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">IV</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">EN ROUTE</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">V</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">PANIC</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">VI</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE FORT OF HERCULES</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">VII</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">WHICH TELLS OF SOME PRECAUTIONS</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2"><span class="allsmcap">TAKEN BY JOSEPH ROULETABILLE TO</span></span><br> +<span class="tdlh2"><span class="allsmcap">DEFEND THE FORT OF HERCULES</span></span><br> +<span class="tdlh2"><span class="allsmcap">AGAINST THE ATTACKS OF AN ENEMY</span></span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">VIII</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">WHICH CONTAINS SOME PAGES FROM THE</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2"><span class="allsmcap">HISTORY OF JEAN-ROUSSEL-LARSAN</span></span><br> +<span class="tdlh2"><span class="allsmcap">BALLMEYER</span></span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">IX</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">IN WHICH OLD BOB UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVES</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">X</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE EVENTS OF THE ELEVENTH OF APRIL</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XI</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE ATTACK OF THE SQUARE TOWER</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XII</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE IMPOSSIBLE BODY</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XIII</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">IN WHICH THE FEARS OF ROULETABILLE</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2"><span class="allsmcap">ASSUME ALARMING PROPORTIONS</span></span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XIV</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE SACK OF POTATOES</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XV</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE SIGHS OF THE NIGHT</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XVI</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">THE DISCOVERY OF AUSTRALIA</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XVII</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">OLD BOB’S TERRIBLE ADVENTURE</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XVIII</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">HOW DEATH STALKED ABROAD AT NOONDAY</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XIX</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">IN WHICH ROULETABILLE ORDERS THE<br> +<span class="tdlh2">IRON DOORS TO BE CLOSED</span></span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top">XX</td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">IN WHICH ROULETABILLE GIVES A CORPOREAL<br> +<span class="tdlh2">DEMONSTRATION OF THE POSSIBILITY</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">OF THE “BODY TOO MANY”</span></span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdr_top"></td> +<td class="tdlh"><span class="allsmcap">EPILOGUE</span></td> +<td class="tdr_top"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +</div> + + +<table class="autotable" > +<tbody><tr> +<td class="tdl"><span class="allsmcap"> </span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"> <i>Facing Page</i></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">Rouletabille had hidden himself in the shadow of a<br> +<span class="tdlh2">pillar</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">He stood erect, wrapped in the rags of a long<br> +<span class="tdlh2">coat which hung about his legs, bareheaded</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">and barefooted</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">The Plan of the Fort of Hercules</td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">The Fort of Hercules</td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">It made us nervous and restless to look at each<br> +<span class="tdlh2">other, seated around the table, mute, leaning</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">forward, wearing our black spectacles, behind</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">which it was as impossible to read our</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">eyes as our thoughts</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">The Plan of the inhabited floor of the Square<br> +<span class="tdlh2">Tower</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">He fled from us and rushed further into the<br> +<span class="tdlh2">night, shrieking aloud, “The perfume of the</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">Lady in Black! The perfume of the Lady</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">in Black!”</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">His eyes seemed glued to his drawing. They<br> +<span class="tdlh2">never moved from the paper</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">Rouletabille examined the barrel of Darzac’s revolver<br> +<span class="tdlh2">and then compared the weapon with</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">the other which he held</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">It was Bernier! It was Bernier who lay there,<br> +<span class="tdlh2">the death rattle in his throat and a stream</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">of blood flowing from his breast</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">Ah! That profile standing out darkly from the<br> +<span class="tdlh2">depths of the embrasure, lighted up by the</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">red glow of the setting sun</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdlh">Rouletabille advanced toward him: “Larsan,” he<br> +<span class="tdlh2">said, “Larsan, do you give yourself up?”</span><br> +<span class="tdlh2">But Larsan did not reply</span></td> +<td class="tdr_bot"><a href="#Page_352">352</a></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Perfume_of_the_Lady_in_Black"> +The Perfume of the Lady in Black</h2> + + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br> +WHICH BEGINS WHERE MOST ROMANCES END</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The marriage of M. Robert Darzac and Mlle. Mathilde Stangerson took +place in Paris, at the Church of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet, on April +6th, 1895, everything connected with the occasion being conducted in +the quietest fashion possible. A little more than two years had rolled +by since the events which I have recorded in a previous volume—events +so sensational that it is not speaking too strongly to say that an even +longer lapse of time would not have sufficed to blot out the memory of +the famous “Mystery of the Yellow Room.”</p> + +<p>There was no doubt in the minds of those concerned that, if the +arrangements for the wedding had not been made almost secretly, the +little church would have been thronged and surrounded by a curious +crowd, eager to gaze upon the principal personages of the drama which +had aroused an interest almost world wide and the circumstances of +which were still present in the minds of the sensation-loving public. +But in this isolated little corner of the city, in this almost unknown +parish, it was easy enough to maintain the utmost privacy. Only a few +friends of M. Darzac and Professor Stangerson, on whose discretion +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> +they felt assured that they might rely, had been invited. I had the +honor to be one of the number.</p> + +<p>I reached the church early, and, naturally, my first thought was +to look for Joseph Rouletabille. I was somewhat surprised at not +seeing him, but, having no doubt that he would arrive shortly, I +entered the pew already occupied by M. Henri-Robert and M. Andre +Hesse, who, in the quiet shades of the little chapel, exchanged in +undertones reminiscences of the strange affair at Versailles, which +the approaching ceremony brought to their memories. I listened without +paying much attention to what they were saying, glancing from time to +time carelessly around me.</p> + +<p>A dreary place enough is the Church of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet. With +its cracked walls, the lizards running from every corner and dirt—not +the beautiful dust of ages, but the common, ill-smelling, germ-laden +dust of to-day—everywhere, this church, so dark and forbidding on +the outside, is equally dismal within. The sky, which seems rather +to be withdrawn from than above the edifice, sheds a miserly light +which seems to find the greatest difficulty in penetrating through the +dusty panes of unstained glass. Have you read Renan’s “Memories of +Childhood and Youth?” Push open the door of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet +and you will understand how the author of the “Life of Jesus” longed to +die, when as a lad he was a pupil in the little seminary of the Abbe +Duplanloup, close by, and could only leave the school to come to pray +in this church. And it was in this funereal darkness, in a scene which +seemed to have been painted only for mourning and for all the rites +consecrated to sorrow, that the marriage of Robert Darzac and Mathilde +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span> +Stangerson was to be solemnized. I could not cast aside the feeling of +foreboding that came over me in these dreary surroundings.</p> + +<p>Beside me, M. Henri-Robert and M. Andre Hesse continued to chat, and my +wandering attention was arrested by a remark made by the former:</p> + +<p>“I never felt quite easy about Robert and Mathilde,” he said—“not +even after the happy termination of the affair at Versailles—until +I knew that the information of the death of Frederic Larsan had been +officially confirmed. That man was a pitiless enemy.”</p> + +<p>It will be remembered, perhaps, by readers of “The Mystery of the +Yellow Room,” that a few months after the acquittal of the Professor +in Sorbonne, there occurred the terrible catastrophe of La Dordogne, +a transatlantic steamer, running between Havre and New York. In the +broiling heat of a summer night, upon the coast of the New World, +La Dordogne had caught fire from an overheated boiler. Before help +could reach her, the steamer was utterly destroyed. Scarcely thirty +passengers were able to leap into the life boats, and these were +picked up the next day by a merchant vessel, which conveyed them to +the nearest port. For days thereafter, the ocean cast up on the beach +hundreds of corpses. And among these, they found Larsan.</p> + +<p>The papers which were found carefully hidden in the clothing worn by +the dead man, proved beyond a doubt his identity. Mathilde Stangerson +was at last delivered from this monster of a husband to whom, through +the facility of the American laws, she had given her hand in secret, +in the unthinking ardour of girlish romance. This wretch, whose real +name, according to court records, was Ballmeyer, and who had married +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> +her under the name of Jean Roussel, could no longer rise like a dark +shadow between Mathilde and the man whom she had loved so long and +so well, without daring to become his bride. In “The Mystery of the +Yellow Room,” I have related all the details of this remarkable affair, +one of the strangest which has ever been known in the annals of the +Court of Assizes, and which, without doubt, would have had a most +tragic denouement, had it not been for the extraordinary part played +by a boy reporter, scarcely eighteen years old, Joseph Rouletabille, +who was the only one to discover that Frederic Larsan, the celebrated +Secret Service agent, was none other than Ballmeyer himself. The +accidental—one might almost say “providential”—death of this villain, +had seemed to assure a happy termination to the extraordinary story, +and it must be confessed that it was undoubtedly one of the chief +factors in the rapid recovery of Mathilde Stangerson, whose reason had +been almost overturned by the mysterious horrors at the Glandier.</p> + +<p>“You see, my dear fellow,” said M. Henri-Robert to M. Andre Hesse, +whose eyes were roving restlessly about the church, “you see, in +this world, one can always find the bright side. See how beautifully +everything has turned out—even the troubles of Mlle. Stangerson. But +why are you constantly looking around you? What are you looking for? Do +you expect anyone?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied M. Hesse. “I expect Frederic Larsan.”</p> + +<p>M. Henri-Robert laughed—a decorous little laugh, in deference to +the sanctity of the surroundings. But I felt no inclination to join +in his mirth. I was an hundred leagues from foreseeing the terrible +experience which was even then approaching us; but when I recall that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> +moment and seek to blot out of my mind all that has happened since—all +those events which I intend to relate in the course of this narrative, +letting the circumstances come before the reader as they came before +us during their development—I recollect once more the curious unrest +which thrilled me at the mention of Larsan’s name.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Sainclair?” whispered M. Henri-Robert, who must +have noticed something odd in my expression. “You know that Hesse was +only joking.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know anything about it,” I answered. And I looked attentively +around me, as M. Andre Hesse had done. And, indeed, we had believed +Larsan dead so often when he was known as Ballmeyer, that it seemed +quite possible that he might be once more brought to life in the guise +of Larsan.</p> + +<p>“Here comes Rouletabille,” remarked M. Henri-Robert. “I’ll wager that +he isn’t worrying about anything.”</p> + +<p>“But how pale he is!” exclaimed M. Andre Hesse in an undertone.</p> + +<p>The young reporter joined us and pressed our hands in an absent-minded +manner.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, Sainclair. Good morning, gentlemen. I am not late, I +hope?”</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that his voice trembled. He left our pew immediately +and withdrew to a dark corner, where I beheld him kneel down like a +child. He hid his face, which was indeed very pale, in his hands, and +prayed. I had never guessed that Rouletabille was of a religious turn +of mind, and his fervent devotion astonished me. When he raised his +head, his eyes were filled with tears. He did not even try to hide +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span> +them. He paid no attention to anything or anyone around him. He was +lost completely in his prayers, and, one might imagine, in his grief.</p> + +<p>But what could be the occasion of his sorrow? Was he not happy at the +prospect of the union so ardently desired by everyone? Had not the +good fortune of Mathilde Stangerson and Robert Darzac been in a great +measure brought about by his efforts? After all, it was perhaps from +joy, that the lad wept. He rose from his knees, and was hidden behind +a pillar. I made no endeavor to join him, for I could see that he was +anxious to be alone.</p> + +<p>And the next moment, Mathilde Stangerson made her entrance +into the church upon the arm of her father, Robert Darzac walking +behind them. Ah, the drama of the Glandier had been a sorrowful +one for these three! But, strange as it may seem, Mathilde Stangerson +appeared only the more beautiful, for all that she had passed +through. True, she was no longer the beautiful statue, the living +marble, the ancient goddess, the cold Pagan divinity, who, at the +official functions at which her father’s position had forced her +to appear, had excited a flutter of admiration whenever she was +seen. It seemed, on the contrary, that fate, in making her expiate +for so many long years an imprudence committed in early youth, +had cast her into the depths of madness and despair, only to +tear away the mask of stone, which hid from sight the tender, +delicate spirit. And it was this spirit which shone forth on +her wedding day, in the sweetest and most charming smile, playing +on her curved lips, hiding in her eyes, filled with pensive +happiness, and leaving its impress on her forehead, polished like +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> +ivory, where one might read the love of all that was beautiful and all +that was good.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_001" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_001.jpg" width="600" height="886" alt="A man is standing in the foreground with a concerned expression with his hand on his face in a thoughtful pose. In the background, a group of people is gathered, attending an event led by a priest who is visible near the altar."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>Rouletabille had hidden himself in the shadow of a pillar.</p> +</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>As to her gown, I must acknowledge that I remember nothing at all +about it, and am unable even to say of what color it was. But what +I do remember, is the strange expression which came over her visage +when she looked through the rows of faces in the pews without seeming +to discover the one she sought. In a moment she had regained her +composure, and was mistress of herself once more. She had seen +Rouletabille behind his pillar. She smiled at him and my companions and +I smiled in our turn.</p> + +<p>“She has the eyes of a mad woman!”</p> + +<p>I turned around quickly to see who had uttered the heartless words. It +was a poor fellow whom Robert Darzac, out of the kindness of his heart, +had made his assistant in the laboratory at the Sorbonne. The man was +named Brignolles, and was a distant cousin of the bridegroom. We knew +of no other relative of M. Darzac whose family came originally from +the Midi. Long ago he had lost both father and mother; he had neither +brother nor sister, and seemed to have broken off all intercourse with +his native province, from which he had brought an eager desire for +success, an exceptional ability to work, a strong intellect, and a +natural need for affection, which had satisfied itself in his relations +with Professor Stangerson and his daughter. He had also as a legacy +from Provence, his native place, a soft voice and slight accent, which +had often brought a smile to the lips of his pupils at the Sorbonne, +who, nevertheless, loved it as they might have loved a strain of music, +which made the necessary dryness of their studies a little less arid.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p> + +<p>One beautiful morning, in the preceding spring, and consequently a year +after the occurrences in the yellow room, Robert Darzac had presented +Brignolles to his pupils. The new assistant had come direct from Aix, +where he had been a tutor in the natural sciences, and where he had +committed some fault of discipline which had caused his dismissal. But +he had remembered that he was related to M. Darzac, the famous chemist, +had taken the train to Paris, and had told such a piteous tale to the +fiancé of Mlle. Stangerson, that Darzac, out of pity, had found means +to associate his cousin with him in his work. At that time, the health +of Robert Darzac had been far from flourishing. He was suffering from +the reaction following the strong emotions which had nearly weighed him +down at the Glandier and at the Court of Assizes; but one might have +thought that the recovery, now assured, of Mathilde, and the prospect +of their marriage would have had a happy influence both upon the mental +and physical condition of the professor. We, however, remarked on the +contrary, that from the day that Brignolles came to him—Brignolles, +whose friendship should have been a precious solace, the weakness of +M. Darzac seemed to increase. However, we were obliged to acknowledge +that Brignolles was not to blame for that, for two unfortunate and +unforeseen accidents had occurred in the course of some experiments, +which would have seemed, on the face of them, not at all dangerous. +The first resulted from the unexpected explosion of a Gessler tube, +which might have severely injured M. Darzac, but which only injured +Brignolles, whose hands were badly scarred. The second, which might +have been extremely grave, happened through the explosion of a tiny +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span> +lamp against which M. Darzac was leaning. Happily, he was not hurt, +but his eyebrows were scorched, and for some time after his sight was +slightly impaired, and he was unable to stand much sunlight.</p> + +<p>Since the Glandier mysteries, I had been in such a state of mind that I +often found myself attaching importance to the most simple happenings. +At the time of the second accident I was present, having come to seek +M. Darzac at the Sorbonne. I myself led our friend to a druggist and +then to a doctor, and I (rather dryly, I own) begged Brignolles, when +he wished to accompany us, to remain at his post. On the way, M. Darzac +asked why I had wounded the poor fellow’s feelings. I told him that I +did not care for Brignolles’ society, for the abstract reason that I +did not like his manners, and for the concrete reason, on this special +occasion, that I believed him to be responsible for the accident. M. +Darzac demanded why I thought so, and I did not know how to answer, and +he began to laugh—a laugh that was quickly silenced, however, when the +doctor told him that he might easily have been made entirely blind, and +that he might consider himself very lucky in having gotten off so well.</p> + +<p>My suspicions of Brignolles were, doubtless, ridiculous, and no more +accidents happened. All the same, I was so strongly prejudiced against +the young man that, at the bottom of my heart, I blamed him for the +slow improvement in M. Darzac’s physical condition. At the beginning of +the winter Darzac had such a bad cough that I entreated him to ask for +leave of absence and to take a trip to the Midi—a prayer in which all +his friends joined. The physicians advised San Remo. He went thither, +and a week later he wrote us that he felt much better—that it seemed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span> +to him as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his breast. “I can +breathe here,” he wrote. “When I left Paris, I seemed to be stifling.”</p> + +<p>This letter from M. Darzac gave me much food for thought, and I no +longer hesitated to take Rouletabille into my confidence.</p> + +<p>He agreed with me that it was a most peculiar coincidence that M. +Darzac was so ill when Brignolles was with him and so much better when +he and his young assistant were separated. The impression that this +was actually the fact was so strong in my mind that I would on no +account have permitted myself to lose sight of Brignolles. No, indeed. +I verily believe that if he had attempted to leave Paris, I should have +followed him. But he made no such attempt. On the contrary, he haunted +the footsteps of M. Stangerson. Under the pretext of asking news of M. +Darzac, he presented himself at the house of the Professor almost every +day. Once he made an effort to see Mlle. Stangerson, but I had painted +his portrait to M. Darzac’s fiancée in such unflattering terms, that I +had succeeded in disgusting her with him completely—a fact on which I +congratulated myself in my innermost soul.</p> + +<p>M. Darzac remained four months at San Remo, and returned home at the +end of that time almost completely restored to health. His eyes, +however, were still weak, and he was under the necessity of taking the +greatest care of them. Rouletabille and myself had resolved to keep a +close watch on Brignolles, but we were satisfied that everything would +be right when we were informed that the long-deferred marriage was to +occur almost immediately and that M. Darzac would take his wife away +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span> +on a long honeymoon trip far from Paris—and from Brignolles.</p> + +<p>Upon his return from San Remo, M. Darzac had asked me:</p> + +<p>“Well, how are you getting on with poor Brignolles? Have you decided +that you were wrong about him?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, I have not,” was my response.</p> + +<p>And Darzac turned away, laughing at me, and uttering one of the +Provencal jests which he affected when circumstances allowed him to be +gay, and which found on his lips a new freshness since his visit to the +Midi had accustomed him again to the accents of his childhood.</p> + +<p>We knew that he was happy. But we had formed no real idea of how happy +he was—for between the time of his return and the wedding day we had +had few chances to see him—until we beheld him walking up the aisle of +the church, his face fairly transformed. His slight erect figure bore +itself as proudly as though he were an Emperor. Happiness had made him +another being.</p> + +<p>“Anyone could guess that he was a bridegroom!” tittered Brignolles.</p> + +<p>I left the neighborhood of the man who was so repulsive to me, and +stepped behind poor M. Stangerson, who stood through the entire +ceremony with his arms crossed on his breast, seeing nothing and +hearing nothing. I was obliged to touch him on the shoulder when all +was over to arouse him from his dream.</p> + +<p>As they passed into the sacristy, M. Andre Hesse heaved a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>“I can breathe again,” he murmured.</p> + +<p>“Why couldn’t you breathe before, my friend?” asked M. Henri-Robert.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p> + +<p>And M. Andre Hesse confessed that he had feared up to the last moment +that the dead man would reappear.</p> + +<p>“I can’t help it,” was the only response he would make when his friend +rallied him. “I cannot bring myself to the idea that Frederic Larsan +will stay dead for good.”</p> + +<p>And now we all—a dozen or so persons—were gathered in the sacristy. +The witnesses signed the register, and the rest of us congratulated the +newly wedded pair. The sacristy was yet more dismal than the church, +and I might have thought that it was on account of the darkness that +I could not perceive Joseph Rouletabille, if the room had not been so +small. But, assuredly, he was not there. Mathilde had already asked for +him twice, and M. Darzac requested me to go and look for him. I did so, +but returned to the vestry without him. He had disappeared from the +church.</p> + +<p>“How strange it is!” exclaimed M. Darzac. “I can’t understand it. Are +you sure that you looked everywhere? He may be in some corner dreaming.”</p> + +<p>“I looked everywhere, and I called his name,” I told him.</p> + +<p>But M. Darzac was still not satisfied. He wanted to look through the +church for himself. His search was better rewarded than mine, for he +learned from a beggar, who was sitting in the porch with a tambourine, +that Rouletabille had left the church a few minutes before and had been +driven away in a hack. When the bridegroom brought this news to his +wife, she appeared to be both pained and anxious. She called me to her +side and said:</p> + +<p>“My dear M. Sainclair, you know that we are to take the train in two +hours. Will you hunt up our little friend and bring him to me, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span> +tell him that his strange behaviour is grieving me very much?”</p> + +<p>“Count upon me,” I said.</p> + +<p>And I began a wild goose chase after Rouletabille. But I appeared at +the station without him. Neither at his home, nor at the office of +his paper, nor at the Cafe du Barreau, where the necessities of his +work often called him at this hour of the day, could I lay my hand on +him. None of his comrades could tell me where I might chance to find +him. I leave you to think how unwillingly I turned my steps in the +direction of the railroad station. M. Darzac was greatly disturbed, +but as he had to look after the comfort of his fellow travellers (for +Professor Stangerson, who was on his way to Mentone, was to accompany +his daughter and her husband to Dijon, changing cars there, while the +Darzacs continued their trip to Culoz and Mt. Cenis), he asked me to +break the bad news to his bride. I performed the commission, adding +that Rouletabille would, without doubt, present himself before the +train started. At these words, Mathilde began to cry softly, and shook +her head:</p> + +<p>“No—no!” she whispered. “It is all over. He will never come again.”</p> + +<p>And she stepped into the railway carriage.</p> + +<p>It was at this point that the insufferable Brignolles, seeing the +emotion of the newly-made bride, whispered again to M. Andre Hesse, +“Look! Look! Hasn’t she the eyes of a maniac? Ah, Robert has done +wrong. It would have been better for him to wait.” M. Hesse gave him a +disdainful glance, and bade him be silent.</p> + +<p>I can still see Brignolles as he spoke those words, and can recall +as vividly as though it were yesterday the feeling of horror with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span> +which he inspired me. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that +he was an evil and a jealous man, and that he would never forgive his +relative for having placed him in a position which might be considered +subordinate. He had a yellow face and long features that looked as if +they had been drawn down from forehead to chin. Everything about him +seemed to diffuse bitterness and everything about him was long. He had +a long figure, long arms, long legs and a long head. However, to this +general rule of length, there were exceptions—the feet and the hands. +He had extremities small and almost beautiful.</p> + +<p>After having been so rudely silenced for his malicious words by the +young lawyer, Brignolles immediately took offense and left the station, +after having paid his respects to the bride and bridegroom. At least, I +believe that he left the station, for I did not see him again.</p> + +<p>There was three minutes yet before the departure of the train. We +still hoped that Rouletabille would appear, and we looked across the +quay, thinking once or twice that we saw the form of our young friend +approaching, among the hurrying throng of travellers. How could it be +that he would not advance, as we were so used to seeing him, in his +quick, boyish fashion, rushing through the crowd, paying no heed to +the cries and protestations that his method of pushing his way usually +evoked while he seemed to be hurrying faster than any one else? What +could he be doing that detained him?</p> + +<p>Already the doors were closed. The bell on the engine began to sound +its first slow strokes, and the calls of hack drivers began to arise: +“Carriage, Monsieur? Carriage?” And then the quick last word which +gave the signal for the departure. But no Rouletabille. We were all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> +so grieved, and, moreover, so surprised, that we remained on the +platform, looking at Mme. Darzac, without thinking to wish her a +pleasant journey. Professor Stangerson’s daughter cast a long glance +upon the quay, and, at the moment that the speed of the train began to +accelerate, certain now that she was not to see her “little friend” +again, she threw me an envelope from the car window.</p> + +<p>“For him,” she said.</p> + +<p>And almost as though moved by an irresistible impulse, her face wearing +an expression of something that resembled terror, she added in a tone +so strange that I could not help recalling the horrible speeches of +Brignolles:</p> + +<p>“Au revoir, my friends—or adieu.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br> +IN WHICH THERE IS QUESTION OF THE CHANGING HUMORS OF JOSEPH +ROULETABILLE</h2> +</div> + + +<p>In returning alone from the station I could not help feeling some +surprise at the singular sensation of sadness which oppressed me, +and of the cause of which I had not the least idea. Since the affair +at Versailles, with the details of which my existence had become +so strangely intermingled, I had enjoyed the closest intimacy with +Professor Stangerson, his daughter, and Robert Darzac. I ought to have +been completely happy on the day of this wedding, which seemed in +every way so satisfactory. I wondered whether the unexplained absence +of the young reporter did not account in some measure for my strange +depression. Rouletabille had been treated by the Stangersons and by M. +Darzac as their deliverer. And especially since Mathilde had left the +sanitarium, in which, for several months, her shattered nervous system +had needed and received the most assiduous care—since the daughter +of the famous professor had been able to understand the extraordinary +part which the boy had played in the drama that, without his help, +would inevitably have ended in the bitterest grief for all those whom +she loved—since she had read by the light of her restored reason +the short-hand reports of the trial, at which Rouletabille appeared +at the last moment like some hero of a miracle—she had surrounded +the youngster with an affection little less than maternal. She +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span> +interested herself in everything which concerned him; she begged for +his confidence; she wanted to know more about him than I knew, and, +perhaps, more even than he knew himself. She had shown an unobtrusive +but strong curiosity in regard to the mystery of his birth, of which +all of us were ignorant, and on which the young man had kept silence +with a sort of savage pride. Although he fully realized the tender +friendship which the poor soul felt for him, Rouletabille maintained +his reserve and in his dealings with her affected a formal politeness +which astonished me, coming from the boy whom I had known so exuberant, +so whole-hearted, so strong in his likes and dislikes. More than once I +had mentioned the matter to him, and he had answered me in an evasive +manner, laying great stress, however, upon his sentiments of devotion +for “a lady whom he esteemed beyond anyone in the world, and for whom +he would have been ready to sacrifice his all, if fate or fortune had +given him anything to sacrifice for anyone.” He would take strange +whims at such times. For instance, after having made, in my presence, +a promise to take a holiday and remain all day with the Stangersons, +who had rented for the summer (for they did not wish to live at the +Glandier again) a pretty little place at Chennevieres, on the borders +of the Marne, and after having shown an almost childish joy at the +prospect, he suddenly and without any reason refused to accompany me. +And I was obliged to set out alone, leaving him in his little room, in +the corner of the Boulevard St. Michel and the Rue Monsieur-le-Prince. +I wished as I departed that he might experience as much pain as I knew +that he would cause Mlle. Stangerson. One Sunday, she, vexed at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> +lad’s behavior, made up her mind to go with me to his den in the Latin +Quarter, and surprise him.</p> + +<p>When we reached his lodgings, Rouletabille, who had answered our knock +with an energetic “Come in,” sat working at a little table. He arose as +we entered, and turned so pale that we believed that he was about to +fall in a faint.</p> + +<p>“Good heavens!” cried Mlle. Stangerson, hastening toward him. But he +was quicker than she, and before she reached the table on which he +leaned, he had thrown a cover over the papers which were spread over +the surface, hiding them entirely.</p> + +<p>Mathilde had, of course, noticed the action. She paused in amazement.</p> + +<p>“We are disturbing you,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, not at all,” replied Rouletabille. “I have finished my work. I +will show it to you sometime. It is a masterpiece—a piece in five +acts, for which I am not able to find the denouement.”</p> + +<p>And he smiled. Soon he was again entirely master of himself, and made +us a hundred droll speeches, thanking us for having come to cheer him +in his solitude. He insisted on inviting us to dinner, and we three ate +our evening meal in a Latin Quarter restaurant—Foyot’s. It was a happy +evening. Rouletabille telephoned for Robert Darzac, who joined us at +dessert. At this time M. Darzac was not ill, and the amazing Brignolles +had not yet made his appearance in Paris. We played like children. That +summer night was so beautiful in the solitude of the Luxembourg!</p> + +<p>Before bidding adieu to Mlle. Stangerson, Rouletabille begged her +pardon for the strange humor which he evinced at times, and accused +himself of being at bottom a very disagreeable person. Mathilde kissed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span> +him and Robert Darzac put his arm affectionately around the lad’s +shoulders. And Rouletabille was so moved that he never uttered a word +while I walked with him to his door; but at the moment of our parting, +he pressed my hand more tenderly than he had ever done before. Poor +little fellow! Ah, if I had known! How I reproach myself in the light +of the present for having judged him with too little patience!</p> + +<p>Thus, sad at heart, assailed by premonitions which I tried in vain to +drive away, I returned from the railway station at Lyons, pondering +over the numerous fantasies, the strange caprices of Rouletabille +during the last two years. But nothing that entered my mind could have +warned me of what had happened, or still less have explained it to +me. Where was Rouletabille? I went to his rooms in the Boulevard St. +Michel, telling myself that if I did not find him there, I could, at +least, leave Mme. Darzac’s letter. What was my astonishment when I +entered the building to see my own servant carrying my bag. I asked him +to tell me what he was doing and why, and he replied that he did not +know—that I must ask M. Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>The boy had been, as it turned out, while I had been seeking him +everywhere (except, naturally, in my own house), in my apartments in +the Rue de Rivoli. He had ordered my servant to take him to my rooms, +and had made the man fill a valise with everything necessary for a trip +of three or four days. Then he had directed the man to bring the bag in +about an hour to the hotel in the “Boul’ Mich.”</p> + +<p>I made one bound up the stairs to my friend’s bed chamber, where I +found him packing in a tiny hand satchel an assortment of toilet +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span> +articles, a change of linen and a night shirt. Until this task was +ended, I could obtain no satisfaction from Rouletabille, for in regard +to the little affairs of everyday life, he was extremely particular, +and, despite the modesty of his means, succeeded in living very +well, having a horror of everything which could be called bohemian. +He finally deigned to announce to me that “we were going to take +our Easter vacation,” and that, since I had nothing to do, and the +<i>Epoch</i> had granted him a three days’ holiday, we couldn’t do +better than to go and take a short rest at the seaside. I made no +reply, so angry was I at this high-handed method, and all the more +because I had not the least desire to contemplate the beauties of the +ocean upon one of the abominable days of early spring, which for two +or three weeks every year makes us regret the winter. But my silence +did not disturb Rouletabille in the least, and taking my valise in +one hand, his satchel in the other, he hustled me down the stairs and +pushed me into a hack which awaited us before the door of the hotel. +Half an hour later, we found ourselves in a first-class carriage of the +Northern Railway, which was carrying us toward Trepot by way of Amiens. +As we entered the station, he said:</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you give me the letter that you have for me?”</p> + +<p>I gazed at him in amazement. He had guessed that Mme. Darzac would be +greatly grieved at not seeing him before her departure, and would write +to him. He had been positively malicious. I answered:</p> + +<p>“Because you don’t deserve it.”</p> + +<p>And I gave him a good scolding, to which he interposed no defense. He +did not even try to excuse himself, and that made me angrier than +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> +ever. Finally, I handed him the letter. He took it, looked at it and +inhaled its fragrance. As I sat looking at him curiously, he frowned, +trying, as I could see, to repress some strong feeling. But he could +no longer hide it from me when he turned toward the window, his +forehead against the glass, and became absorbed in a deep study of the +landscape. His face betrayed the fact that he was suffering profoundly.</p> + +<p>“Well?” I said. “Aren’t you going to read the letter?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he replied. “Not here. When we are yonder.”</p> + +<p>We arrived at Trepot in the blackest night that I remember, after six +hours of an interminable trip and in wretched weather. The wind from +the sea chilled us to the bone and swept over the deserted quay with +weird sounds of lamentation. We met only a watch-man, wrapped in his +cloak and hood, who paced the banks of the canal. Not a cab, of course. +A few gas jets, trembling in their glass globes, reflected their light +in the mud puddles formed by the falling rain. We heard in the distance +the clicking noise of the little wooden shoes of some Trepot woman who +was out late. That we did not fall into a huge watering trough was due +to the fact that we were warned by the hoofs of a stray horse, which +passed that way to drink. I walked behind Rouletabille, who made his +way with difficulty in this damp obscurity. However, he appeared to +know the place, for we finally arrived at the door of a queer little +inn, which remained open during the early spring for the fishermen. +Rouletabille demanded supper and a fire, for we were half starved and +half frozen.</p> + +<p>“Ah, now, my friend,” I said, when we were settled after a fashion. +“Will you condescend to explain to me what we have come to look for in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> +this place, aside from rheumatism and pneumonia?”</p> + +<p>But Rouletabille, at this moment, coughed and turned toward the fire to +warm his hands again.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” he answered. “I am going to tell you. We have come to look +for the perfume of the Lady in Black.”</p> + +<p>This phrase gave me so much to think about that I scarcely slept at all +that night. Besides, the wind howled continuously, sending its wails +over the water, then swallowing itself up in the little streets of the +town as if it were entering corridors. I heard someone moving about +in the room next to mine, which was occupied by my friend; I arose +and tried his door. In spite of the cold and the wind, he had opened +the window, and I could see him distinctly waving kisses toward the +shadows. He was embracing the night.</p> + +<p>I closed the door again and went quietly back to bed. Early in the +morning I was awakened by a changed Rouletabille. His face was +distorted with grief as he handed me a telegram which had come to him +at the Bourg, having been forwarded from Paris, in accordance with the +orders that he had left.</p> + +<p>Here is the dispatch:</p> + +<p>“Come immediately without losing a minute. We have given up our trip +to the Orient, and will join M. Stangerson at Mentone, at the home of +the Rances at Rochers Rouges. Let this message remain a secret between +us. It is not necessary to frighten anyone. You may pretend that you +are on your vacation, or make any other excuse that you like, but come. +Telegraph me general delivery, Mentone. Quickly, quickly, I am waiting +for you. Yours in despair—Darzac.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br> +THE PERFUME</h2> +</div> + + +<p>“Well!” I cried, leaping out of bed. “It doesn’t surprise me!”</p> + +<p>“You never believed that <i>he</i> was dead?” demanded Rouletabille, in +a tone filled with an emotion that I could not explain to myself, for +it seemed greater even than was warranted by the situation, admitting +that the terms of M. Darzac’s telegram were to be taken literally.</p> + +<p>“I never felt quite sure of it,” I answered. “It was too useful for him +to pass for dead to permit him to hesitate at the sacrifice of a few +papers, however important those were which were found upon the victim +of the Dordogne disaster. But what is the matter with you, my boy? You +look as though you were going to faint. Are you ill?”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille had let himself sink into a chair. It was in a voice which +trembled like that of an old man that he confided to me that, even +while the marriage ceremony of our friends was going on, he had become +possessed with a strong conviction that Larsan was not dead. But after +the ceremony was at an end, he had felt more secure. It seemed to him +that Larsan would never have permitted Mathilde Stangerson to speak the +vows that gave her to Robert Darzac if he were really alive. Larsan +would only have had to show his face to stop the marriage; and, however +dangerous to himself such an act might have been, he would not, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> +young reporter believed, have hesitated to deliver himself up to the +danger, knowing as he did the strong religious convictions of Professor +Stangerson’s daughter, and knowing, too, that she would never have +consented to enter into an alliance with another man while her first +husband was alive, even had she been freed from the latter by human +laws. In vain had everyone who loved her attempted to persuade her that +her first marriage was void, according to French statute. She persisted +in declaring that the words pronounced by the priest had made her the +wife of the miserable wretch who had victimized her, and that she must +remain his wife so long as they both should live.</p> + +<p>Wiping the perspiration from his forehead, Rouletabille remarked:</p> + +<p>“Sainclair, can you ever forget Larsan’s eyes? Do you remember, ‘The +Presbytery has not lost its charm or the garden its brightness?’”</p> + +<p>I pressed the boy’s hand; it was burning hot. I tried to calm him, but +he paid no attention to anything I said.</p> + +<p>“And it was after the wedding—just a few hours after the wedding, that +he chose to appear!” he cried. “There isn’t anything else to think, is +there, Sainclair? You took M. Darzac’s wire just as I did? It could +mean nothing else except that that man has come back?”</p> + +<p>“I should think not—but M. Darzac may be mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, M. Darzac is not a child to be frightened at bogies. But we must +hope—we must hope, mustn’t we, Sainclair, that he is mistaken? Oh, it +isn’t possible that such a fearful thing can be true. Oh, Sainclair, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span> +it would be too terrible!”</p> + +<p>I had never seen Rouletabille so deeply agitated, even at the time of +the most terrible events at the Glandier. He arose from his chair and +walked up and down the room, casting aside any object which came in +his way and repeating over and over: “No, no! It’s too terrible—too +terrible!”</p> + +<p>I told him that it was not sensible to put himself in such a state +merely upon the receipt of a telegram which might mean nothing at all, +or might be the result of some delusion. And there, too, I added, that +it was not at this time, when we needed all our strength and fortitude, +that we ought to give way to imaginary fears which were particularly +inexcusable in a lad of his practical temperament.</p> + +<p>“Inexcusable! I am glad you think so, Sainclair.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear boy, you frighten me. What is there you know that you +have not told me?”</p> + +<p>“I am going to tell you. The situation is horrible. Why didn’t that +villain die?”</p> + +<p>“And, after all, how do you know that he is not dead?”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Sainclair—Don’t talk—Be quiet, please—You see, if he is +alive, I wish to God that I were dead!”</p> + +<p>“You are crazy. It is if he is alive that you have all the more reason +to live to defend that poor woman.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that is true! That is true! Thanks, old fellow! You have said the +only thing that makes me want to live. To defend her! I will not think +of myself any longer—never again.”</p> + +<p>And Rouletabille smiled—a smile which almost frightened me. I threw +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span> +my arm around him and begged him to tell me why he was so terrified, +why he spoke of his own death and why he smiled so strangely.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille laid his hand on my shoulder, and I went on:</p> + +<p>“Tell your friend what it is, Rouletabille. Speak out. Relieve your +mind. Tell me the secret that is killing you. I would tell you +anything.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille looked down and steadily into my eyes. Then he said:</p> + +<p>“You shall know all, Sainclair. You shall know as much as I do, and +when you do, you will be as unhappy as I am, for you are kind and you +are fond of me.”</p> + +<p>Then he straightened back his shoulders as though he had already cast +off a burden and pointed in the direction of the railway.</p> + +<p>“We shall leave here in an hour,” he said. “There is no direct train +from Eu to Paris in the winter: we shall not reach Paris until 7 +o’clock. But that will give us plenty of time to pack our trunks and +take the train that leaves the Lyons station at nine o’clock for +Marseilles and Mentone.”</p> + +<p>He did not ask my opinion on the course which he had laid out. He was +taking me to Mentone, just as he had brought me to Trepot. He was well +aware that in the present crisis I could refuse him nothing. Besides, +he was in such a state of mental strain that even if he had wished +it, I should scarcely have left him. And it was not hard for me to +accompany him, for we were just beginning our long vacations, and my +affairs were so arranged that I felt entirely at liberty.</p> + +<p>“Then we are going to Eu?” I inquired.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes: we will take the train from there. It will scarcely take half an +hour to drive over.”</p> + +<p>“We shall have spent only a little time in this part of the country,” I +remarked.</p> + +<p>“Enough, I hope—enough for me to find what I am looking for.”</p> + +<p>I thought of the perfume of the Lady in Black, but I kept silence. Had +he not said that he was going to tell me everything? He led me out to +the jetty. The wind was still blowing a gale, and we were almost taken +off our feet. Rouletabille stood for an instant as if lost in thought, +closing his eyes as if in a dream.</p> + +<p>“It was here,” he said, “that I last saw her.”</p> + +<p>He looked down at the stone bench beside which we were standing.</p> + +<p>“We were sitting there. She held me to her heart. I was a very little +fellow, even for nine years old. She told me to stay there—on this +bench—and then she went away, and I never saw her again. It was +night—a soft summer evening—the evening of the distribution of +prizes. She had not assisted at the distribution, but I knew that she +would come that night—that night full of stars and so clear that I +hoped every moment that I would be able to distinguish her face. But +she covered it with her veil and breathed a heavy sigh. And then she +went away. And I have never seen her since.”</p> + +<p>“And you, my friend?”</p> + +<p>“I?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, what happened to you? Did you sit on the bench for very long?”</p> + +<p>“I would have—but the coachman came to look for me and I went in.”</p> + +<p>“Where?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p> + +<p>“Into the school.”</p> + +<p>“Is there a boarding school at Trepot?”</p> + +<p>“No, but there is one at Eu—I went to the school at Eu.”</p> + +<p>He motioned me to follow him.</p> + +<p>“We will go there,” he said. “I can’t talk here. There is too much of a +storm.”</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>In another half hour we were at Eu. At the foot of the Rue des +Marroniers our carriage rolled over the pavements of the big, cold, +empty place, as the coachman announced his arrival by cracking his +whip, filling the dead town with the noise of the snapping leather.</p> + +<p>Soon we heard the sound of a bell—that of the school, Rouletabille +told me—and then everything was quiet again. We alighted and the horse +and carriage stood motionless upon the street. The driver had gone into +a saloon. We entered the cool shades of a high Gothic church which +faced upon the square. Rouletabille cast a glance at the castle—a red +brick structure, crowned with an immense Louis XIII roof—a mournful +facade which seemed to weep over the glory of departed princes. The +young reporter gazed sorrowfully at the square battlements of the City +Hall, which extended toward us the hostile lance of its soiled and +weather-beaten flag; at the Cafe de Paris; at the silent houses; at the +shops and the library. Was it there that the boy had bought those first +new books for which the Lady in Black had paid?</p> + +<p>“Nothing has changed.”</p> + +<p>An old dog, colorless and shaggy, upon the library steps, stretched +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span> +himself lazily on his frozen paws.</p> + +<p>“Cham! Cham!” called Rouletabille. “Oh, I remember him well. It is +Cham—it is my old Cham.”</p> + +<p>And he called him again, “Cham! Cham!”</p> + +<p>The dog got upon his feet, turned toward us, listening to the voice +that called him. He took a few steps, wagged his tail, and stretched +himself out in the sun again.</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t remember me,” said Rouletabille sadly.</p> + +<p>He drew me into a little street which had a steep down grade, and was +paved with sharp pebbles. As we went down the hill he took my hand and +I could feel the fever in his. We stopped again in front of a tiny +temple of the Jesuit style, which raised in front of us its porch, +ornamented with semicircles of stone, the “reversed consoles” which +are the characteristic features of an architecture which contributed +nothing to the glory of the Seventeenth Century. After having pushed +open a little low door, Rouletabille bade me enter, and we found +ourselves inside a beautiful mortuary chapel, upon the stone floor +of which were kneeling, beside their empty tombs, magnificent marble +statues of Catherine of Cleves and Guise le Balafre.</p> + +<p>“The college chapel,” whispered Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>There was no person in the chapel. We crossed the room hastily. On the +left wall, Rouletabille tapped very gently a kind of drum, which gave +out a queer, muffled sound.</p> + +<p>“We are in luck!” he said. “Everything is going well. We are inside +the college and the concierge has not seen me. He would surely have +remembered me.”</p> + +<p>“What harm would that have done?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p> + +<p>Just at that moment a man with bare head and a bunch of keys at his +side passed through the room and Rouletabille drew me into the shadow.</p> + +<p>“It is Pere Simon. Ah, how old he has grown! He is almost bald. Listen: +this is the hour when he goes to superintend the study hour of the +younger boys. Everyone is in the class room at this time. Oh, we are +very lucky! There is only Mere Simon in the lodge—that is, if she is +not dead. At any rate, she can’t see us from here. But wait—here is +Pere Simon back again!”</p> + +<p>Why was Rouletabille so anxious to hide himself? Decidedly, I knew very +little of the lad whom I believed that I knew so well. Every hour that +I had spent with him of late had brought me some new surprise. While +we were waiting for Pere Simon to leave us a clear field once more, +Rouletabille and I managed to slip out of the chapel without being +seen, and hid ourselves in the corner of a tiny garden, laid out in +the middle of a stone court, behind the shrubbery of which we could, +leaning over, contemplate at our leisure the grounds and buildings of +the school. Rouletabille hung on to my arm as though he were afraid of +falling. “Good Heavens!” he murmured, in a voice broken with emotion. +“How things are changed! They have torn down the old study where I +found the knife and the leather hangings where the money was hidden +have, doubtless, been destroyed. But the chapel walls are just the +same. Look, Sainclair: lean over the hedge. That door that opens in the +rear of the chapel is the door of the infant class room. But never, +never did I leave that class room so gladly, even in my happiest play +hours, as when Pere Simon came to fetch me to the parlor where the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span> +Lady in Black was waiting for me. Ah—suppose that they have destroyed +the parlor!”</p> + +<p>And he cast a quick look toward the building behind him.</p> + +<p>“No—no: it is all right—beside the mortuary. There is the same door +at the right through which she came. We shall go there as soon as Pere +Simon is out of the way.”</p> + +<p>And he set his teeth.</p> + +<p>“I believe that I am going crazy!” he said with a short laugh. “But I +can’t help my feelings. They are stronger than I. To think that I am +going to see the parlor—where she waited for me! I had been living +only in the hope of seeing her, and after she had gone, although I had +promised to be good and sensible, I fell into such a despondent state +that after each of her visits, they feared for my health. They were +only able to save me from utter prostration by telling me that if I +fell ill they would not let me see her any more. So from one visit to +another, I had her memory and her perfume to comfort me. Never having +seen her dear face distinctly, and being so weak that I was ready to +swoon with joy every time she pressed me to her heart, I lived less +with her image than with the heavenly odor. Often on the days after +she had come and gone, I would escape from my comrades during the +recreation hours and steal to the parlor, and when I found it empty, I +would draw deep breaths of the air which she had breathed and remain +there like a little devotee, and leave with a heart filled with the +sense of her presence. The perfume which she always used and which was +indissolubly associated in my mind with her, was the most delicate, +the most subtle, and the sweetest odor I have ever known, and I never +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span> +breathed it again in all the years which followed until the day I spoke +of it to you, Sainclair. You remember—the day we first went to the +Glandier?”</p> + +<p>“You mean the day that you met Mathilde Stangerson?”</p> + +<p>“That is what I mean,” responded the lad in a trembling voice.</p> + +<p>(Ah, if I had known at that moment that Professor Stangerson’s +daughter, as the result of her first marriage in America, had had a +child, a son, who would have been, if he had lived, the same age as +Rouletabille, perhaps I would have at last comprehended his emotion and +grief, and the strange reluctance which he showed to pronounce the name +of Mathilde Stangerson there at the school, to which, in the past, had +come so often the Lady in Black!)</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, which I finally broke.</p> + +<p>“And you have never known why the Lady in Black did not return?”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” cried Rouletabille. “I am sure that she did return. It was I who +was not here.”</p> + +<p>“Who took you away?”</p> + +<p>“No one: I ran away.”</p> + +<p>“Why? To look for her?”</p> + +<p>“No—no! To flee from her—to flee from her, I tell you, Sainclair. But +she came back—I know that she came back.”</p> + +<p>“She may have been broken hearted at not finding you.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille raised his arms toward the sky and shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know—how can I know? Ah, what an unhappy wretch I am! But, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> +hush, Sainclair! Here comes Pere Simon! Now, he’s gone again. Quick—to +the parlor!”</p> + +<p>We were there in three seconds. It was a commonplace room enough, +rather large, with cheap white curtains in front of the shadeless +windows. It was furnished with six leather chairs placed against the +wall, a mantel mirror, and a clock. The whole appearance of the place +was sombre.</p> + +<p>As we entered the room, Rouletabille uncovered his head with an +appearance of respect and reverence which one rarely assumes except in +a sacred place. His face became flushed, he advanced with short steps, +rolling his travelling cap in his hands as if he were embarrassed. +He turned to me and said in low tones—far lower than he used in the +chapel:</p> + +<p>“Oh, Sainclair, this is it—the parlor. Feel how my hands burn. My face +is flushed, is it not? I was always flushed when I came here, knowing +that I should find her. I used to run. I felt smothered—I do now. I +was not able to wait. Oh, my heart beats just as it used when I was +a little lad! I would come to the door—right here—and then I would +pause, bashful and shamefaced. But I would see her dark shadow in the +corner: she would take me in her arms and hold me there in silence, and +before we knew it, we were both weeping, as we clung together. How dear +those meetings were. She was my mother, Sainclair. Oh, she never told +me so: on the contrary, she used to say that my mother was dead, and +that she had been her friend. But she told me to call her Mamma—and +when she wept as I kissed her, I knew that she really was my mother. +See—she always sat there in the dark corner, and she came always at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span> +nightfall, when the parlor had not yet been lit up for the evening. And +every time she came, she would place on the window sill a big, white +package, tied with pink cord. It was a fruit cake. I have loved fruit +cake ever since, Sainclair!”</p> + +<p>The poor lad could no longer contain himself. He rested his arms on +the mantel and wept like a little child. When he was able to control +himself a little, he raised his head and looked at me with a sad smile. +And then he sank into a chair as though he were tired out. I had not +had the heart to say one word to him during his reminiscences. I knew +well that he was not talking with me, but with his memories.</p> + +<p>I saw him draw from his breast the letter which he had placed there in +the train, and tear it open with trembling fingers. He read it slowly. +Suddenly his hand fell, and he uttered a groan. His flushed face grew +pallid—so pallid that it seemed as though every drop of blood had left +his heart. I stepped toward him, but he waved me away and closed his +eyes. He looked almost as though he were sleeping. I walked across the +room, moving as softly as one does in the chamber of death. I looked +up at the wall, where hung a heavy wooden crucifix. How long did I +stand gazing on the cross? I have no idea. Nor do I know what we said +to someone belonging to the house, who came into the parlor. I was +pondering with all my strength of concentration on the strange and +mysterious destiny of my friend—on this mysterious woman who might or +might not have been his mother. Rouletabille had been so young in those +school days. He longed so for a mother, that he might have imagined +that he had found one in his visitor. Rouletabille—what other name did +we know him by? Joseph Josephin. It was without doubt under that name +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> +that he had pursued his early studies here. Joseph Josephin, the queer +appellation of which the editor of the <i>Epoch</i> had said to him, +“It is no name at all!” And now, what was he about to do here? Seek the +trace of a perfume? Revive a memory—an illusion? I turned as I heard +him stir. He was standing erect and seemed quite calm. His features had +taken on the serenity which comes from assurance of victory.</p> + +<p>“We must go now, Sainclair. Come, my friend.”</p> + +<p>And he left the parlor without even looking back. I followed him.</p> + +<p>In the deserted street, which we regained without meeting anyone, I +stopped him by asking anxiously:</p> + +<p>“Well—did you find the perfume of the Lady in Black?”</p> + +<p>He must have seen that all my heart was in the question and that I +was filled with an ardent desire that this visit to the scenes of his +childhood might have brought a little peace to his soul.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, very gravely. “Yes, Sainclair, I found it.”</p> + +<p>And he handed me the letter from Professor Stangerson’s daughter.</p> + +<p>I looked at him, doubting the evidence of my own senses—not +understanding, because I knew nothing. Then he took my two hands and +looked into my eyes.</p> + +<p>“I am going to confide a secret to you, Sainclair—the secret of my +life, and perhaps some day the secret of my death. Let what will come, +it must die with you and me. Mathilde Stangerson had a child—a son. He +is dead—is dead to everyone except to the two of us who stand here.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p> + +<p>I recoiled, struck with horror under such a revelation. Rouletabille +the son of Mathilde Stangerson! And then suddenly I received a still +more violent shock. In that case, Rouletabille must be the son of +Larsan.</p> + +<p>Oh, I understood now, all the wretchedness of the boy. I understood why +he had said this morning: “Why did he not die? If he is living, I wish +to God that I were dead!”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille must have read my thoughts in my eyes, and he simply made +a gesture which seemed to say, “And now you understand, Sainclair.” +Then he finished his sentence aloud. The word which he spoke was +“Silence!”</p> + +<p>When we reached Paris we separated, to meet again at the train. There, +Rouletabille handed me a new dispatch, which had come from Valence, and +which was signed by Professor Stangerson. It said, “M. Darzac tells +me that you have a few days’ leave. We should all be very glad if you +could come and spend them with us. We will wait for you at Arthur +Rance’s place, Rochers Rouges—he will be delighted to present you +to his wife. My daughter will be pleased to see you. She joins me in +kindest greetings.”</p> + +<p>Just as the train was starting, a concierge from Rouletabille’s hotel +came rushing up and handed us a third dispatch. This one was sent from +Mentone, and signed by Mathilde. It contained two words: “Rescue us.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br> +EN ROUTE</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Now I knew all. As we continued on our journey, Rouletabille related +to me the remarkable and adventurous story of his childhood, and I +knew, also, why he dreaded nothing so much as that Mme. Darzac should +penetrate the mystery which separated them. I dared say nothing +more—give my friend no advice. Ah, the poor unfortunate lad! When he +read the words “Rescue us,” he carried the dispatch to his lips, and +then, pressing my hand, he said: “If I arrive too late, I can avenge +her, at least.” I have never heard anything more filled with resolution +than the cold determination of his tone. From time to time a quick +movement betrayed the passion of his soul, but for the most part he was +calm—terribly calm. What resolution had he taken in the silence of the +parlor, when he sat motionless and with closed eyes in the shadow of +the corner where he had used to see the Lady in Black?</p> + +<p>While we journeyed toward Lyons, and Rouletabille lay dreaming, +stretched out fully dressed in his berth, I will tell you how and why +the child that he had been ran away from school at Eu, and what had +happened to him.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille had fled from the school like a thief. There was no +need to seek for another expression, because he had been accused of +stealing. This was how it happened.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span></p> + +<p>At the age of nine, he had already an extraordinarily precocious +intelligence, and could arrive easily at the solution of the most +perplexing problems. By logical deductions of an almost amazing kind, +he astonished his professor of mathematics by his philosophical method +of work. He had never been able to learn his multiplication tables, and +always counted upon his fingers. He would usually get the answers to +the problems himself, leaving the working out to be done by his fellow +pupils, as one will leave an irksome task to a servant. But first, he +would show them exactly how the example ought to be done. Although as +yet ignorant of the rudiments of algebra, he had invented for his own +personal use a system of algebra carried on with queer signs, looking +like hieroglyphics, by the aid of which he marked all the steps of +his mathematical reasoning, and thus he was able to write down the +general formulæ so that he alone could interpret them. His professor +used proudly to compare him to Pascal, discovering for himself without +knowledge of geometry, the first propositions of Euclid. He applied +his admirable faculties of reasoning to his daily life, as well as to +his studies, using the rules both materially and morally. For example, +an act had been committed in the school—I have forgotten whether it +was of cheating or talebearing—by one of ten persons whom he knew, +and he picked out the right one with a divination which seemed almost +supernatural, simply by using the powers of reasoning and deduction, +which he had practiced to such an extent. So much for the moral aspect +of his strange gift, and as for the material, nothing seemed more +simple to him than to find any lost or hidden object—or even a stolen +one. It was in the detection of thefts especially that he displayed +a wonderful resourcefulness, as if nature, in her wondrous fitting +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span> +together of the parts that make an equal whole, after having created +the father a thief of the worst kind, had caused the son to be born the +evil genius of thieves.</p> + +<p>This strange aptitude, after having won for the boy a sort of fame +in the school, on account of his detection of several attempts at +pilfering, was destined one day to be fatal to him. He found in this +abnormal fashion a small sum of money which had been stolen from the +superintendent, who refused to believe that the discovery was due only +to the lad’s intelligence and clearness of insight. This hypothesis, +indeed, appeared impossible to almost everyone who knew of the matter, +and, thanks to an unfortunate coincidence of time and place, the affair +finished up by having Rouletabille himself accused of being the thief. +They tried to make him acknowledge his fault; he defended himself with +such indignation and anger that it drew upon him a severe punishment. +The principal held an investigation and a trial, at which Joseph +Josephin was accused by some of his youthful comrades in that spirit +of falsehood which children sometimes possess. Some of them complained +of having had books, pencils, and tablets stolen at different times, +and declared that they believed that Joseph had taken them. The fact +that the boy seemed to have no relatives, and that no one knew where +he came from, made him particularly likely, in that little world, to +be suspected of crime. When the boys spoke of him, it was as “that +thief.” The contempt in which he was held preyed upon him, for he was +not a strong child at best, and he was plunged in despair. He almost +prayed to die. The principal, who was really the most kind hearted of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span> +men, was persuaded that he had a vicious little creature to deal with, +because he was unable to produce an impression on the child, and make +him comprehend the horror of what he had done. Finally, he told the lad +that if he did not confess his guilt, it had been decided not to keep +him in the school any longer, and that a letter would be written to the +lady who interested herself in him—Mme. Darbel was the name which she +had given—to tell her to come after him.</p> + +<p>The child made no reply and allowed himself to be taken to his little +room, where he had been kept a prisoner. Upon the morrow he had +disappeared. He had run away. He had felt that the principal, to whose +care he had been entrusted during the earliest years of his childhood +(for in all his little life he could remember no other home than the +school), and who had always been so kind to him, was no longer his +friend, since he believed him guilty of theft. And he could see no +reason why the Lady in Black would not believe it, too—that he was a +thief. To appear as a thief in the sight of the Lady in Black! He would +far rather have died.</p> + +<p>And he made his escape from the place by climbing over the wall of the +garden at night. He rushed to the canal, sobbing, and, with a prayer, +uttered as much to the Lady in Black as to God Himself, threw himself +in the water. Happily, in his despair, the poor child had forgotten +that he knew how to swim.</p> + +<p>If I have reported this passage in the life of Rouletabille at some +length, it is because it seems to me that it is all important to the +thorough comprehension of his future. At that time, of course, he was +ignorant that he was the son of Larsan. Rouletabille, even as a child +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span> +of nine years, could not without agony harbor the idea that the Lady +in Black might believe him to be a thief, and thus, when the time came +that he imagined—an imagination too well founded, alas!—that he was +bound by ties of blood to Larsan, what infinite misery he experienced! +His mother, in hearing of the crime of which he had been accused, +must have felt that the criminal instincts of the father were coming +to light in the son, and, perhaps—thought more cruel than death +itself—she may have rejoiced in believing him dead.</p> + +<p>For everyone believed him dead. They found his footsteps leading to +the canal, and they fished out his cap. How had he lived after leaving +the school? In a most singular fashion. After swimming to dry land +and making up his mind to fly the country, the lad, while they were +searching for him everywhere in the canal and out of it, devised a most +original plan for travelling to a distance without being disturbed. He +had not read that most interesting tale, <i>The Stolen Letter</i>. His +own invention served him. He reasoned the thing out, as he always did.</p> + +<p>He knew—for he had often heard them told by the heroes +themselves—many stories of little rascals who had ran away from their +parents in search of adventures, hiding themselves by day in the fields +and the wood, and travelling by night—only to find themselves speedily +captured by the gendarmes, or forced to return home because they had no +money and no food, and dared not ask for anything to eat along the road +which they followed, and which was too well guarded to admit of their +escape if they applied for aid. Our little Rouletabille slept at night +like everyone else, and travelled in broad daylight, without hiding +himself. But, after having dried his garments (the warm weather was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span> +coming on, and he did not suffer from cold), he tore them to tatters. +He made rags of them, which barely covered him, and begged in the open +streets, dirty and unkempt, holding out his hands and declaring to +passers-by that if he did not bring home any money his parents would +beat him. And everyone took him for some gypsy child, hordes of which +constantly roamed through the locality. Soon came the time of wild +strawberries. He gathered the fruit and sold it in little baskets of +leaves. And he assured me, in telling the story, that if it had not +been for the terrible thought that the Lady in Black must believe that +he was a thief, that time would have been the happiest of his life. His +astuteness and natural courage stood him well in stead through these +wanderings, which lasted for several months. Where was he going? To +Marseilles. This was his plan:</p> + +<p>He had seen in his illustrated geography views of the Midi, and he had +never looked at those pictures without breathing a sigh and wishing +that he might some day visit that enchanted country. Through his +gypsy-like manner of living, he had made the acquaintance of a little +caravan load of Romanies, who were following the same route as himself, +and who were journeying to Ste. Marie’s of the Sea to render homage to +a new king of their tribe. The lad had an opportunity to render them +some small service, and finding him a pleasant, well-mannered little +fellow, these people, not being in the habit of asking everyone whom +they met for his history, desired to know nothing more about him. They +believed that, on account of ill treatment, the child had run away from +some troop of wandering mountebanks, and they invited him to travel +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span> +with them. Thus he arrived in the Midi.</p> + +<p>In the neighborhood of Arles, he separated himself from his travelling +companions, and at last came to Marseilles. There was his paradise! +Eternal summer—and the port.</p> + +<p>The port was the favorite resort of all the gamins of the locality, +and this fact was the greatest safeguard for Rouletabille. He roamed +over the docks as he chose, and served himself according to the +measure of his needs, which were not great. For example, he made of +himself an “orange fisher.” It was at the time that he exercised this +lucrative calling that, one beautiful morning upon the quay, he made +the acquaintance of M. Gaston Leroux, a journalist from Paris, and this +acquaintance was destined to have such an influence upon the future of +Rouletabille that I do not consider it out of place to transcribe here +in full the article in which the editor of <i>Le Matin</i> recorded +that first memorable interview.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>THE LITTLE ORANGE FISHER.</p> + +<p>As the sun, piercing through the cloudless heavens, struck with its +ardent rays the golden robe of Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, I descended +toward the quay. The scene which met my eyes was one which was worth +going far to see. Townfolk, sailors and workmen were moving about, +the former idly looking on, while the others tugged at the pulleys +and drew up the cables of their vessels. The great merchant vessels +glided like huge beasts of burden between the tower of St. Jean and +the fort of St. Nicholas, caressing the sparkling waters of the Old +Port in their onward motion. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, the +smaller barks seemed to hold out their arms to each other, to throw +aside their veils of mist and to dance upon the water. Beside them, +tired with the long journey, worn out from ploughing for so many days +and nights over unknown seas, the heavy laden East Indiamen rested +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span> +peacefully, lifting their great, motionless sails in rags toward the +skies.</p> + +<p>My eyes, sweeping swiftly over the scene through the forest of masts +and sails paused at the tower which commemorated the fact that it was +twenty-five centuries since the children of Ancient Phœnicia first +cast anchor upon this happy shore, and that they had come by the water +ways of Ionia. Then my attention returned to the border of the quay, +and I perceived the little orange fisher.</p> + +<p>He was standing erect, clad in the rags of a man’s coat which hung +down almost to his feet, bareheaded and barefooted, with blonde curly +locks and black eyes, and I should think that he was about nine years +old. A string passed around his shoulder supported a big sailcloth +sack. His left hand rested on his waist and his right hand held a +stick three times as tall as himself, which was surmounted by a little +wooden hook. The child stood motionless and lost in thought. When I +asked him what he was doing there, he told me that he was an orange +fisher.</p> + +<p>He seemed very proud of being an orange fisher and did not ask me for +a penny, as the little vagabonds of the neighborhood are accustomed to +demand toll of every bystander. I spoke to him again, but this time +he made no answer, for he was too intent on watching the water. On +one side of us was the beautiful steamer Fides, in from Castellmare +and on the other a three masted schooner from Genoa. Further off were +two ships loaded with fruits which had just arrived from Baleares +that morning, and I saw that they were spilling a part of their +cargo. Oranges were bobbing up and down upon the water and the light +current sent them in our direction. My “fisher” leaped into a little +canoe, came quickly to the vessel, and, armed with his stick and hook, +waited. Then he began his gathering. The hook on his stick brought him +one orange, then a second, a third and a fourth. They disappeared in +the sack. The boy gathered a fifth, jumped upon the quay and tore open +the golden fruit. He plunged his little teeth in the pulp and devoured +it in an instant.</p> + +<p>“You have a good appetite.” I told him.</p> + +<p>“Monsieur,” he replied, flushing slightly as he spoke, “I don’t care +for any food but fruit.”</p> + +<p>“That is a very good diet,” I replied as gravely as he had spoken. +“But what do you do when there are no oranges?”</p> + +<p>“I pick up coal.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_002" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i_002.jpg" width="500" height="747" alt="A young barefoot boy, dressed in tattered clothing and wrapped in a long, ragged coat, stands near the edge of a dock. Behind him, a well-dressed man wearing a hat and coat is walking along the dock, seemingly observing the boy."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>He stood erect, wrapped in the rags of a long coat +which hung about his legs, bareheaded and barefooted.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>And his little hand, diving into the sack, brought out an enormous +piece of coal.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span></p> + +<p>The orange juice had rolled down his chin to his coat. The coat had a +pocket. The little fellow took a clean handkerchief from this pocket +and carefully wiped both chin and coat. Then he proudly put the +handkerchief back.</p> + +<p>“What is your father’s work?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“He is poor.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but what does he do?”</p> + +<p>The orange fisher shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t do anything, he is poor.”</p> + +<p>My inquiries into his family affairs did not seem to please him. He +turned away from the quay and I followed him. We came in a moment to +the “shelter,” a little square of sea which holds the small pleasure +yachts—the neat little boats all polished wood and brass, the neat +little sailors in their irreproachable toilettes. My ragamuffin looked +at them with the eye of a connoisseur and seemed to find a keen +enjoyment in the spectacle. A new yacht had just been launched and her +immaculate sail looked like a white veil against the blue sky.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it pretty?” exclaimed my little companion.</p> + +<p>The next moment he fell over a board covered with fresh tar and when +he picked himself up, he looked with dismay at the stain on his coat +which seemed to be his proudest possession. What a disaster! He looked +as if he could have burst into tears. But quick as thought he drew out +his handkerchief and rubbed and rubbed the spot, then he looked at me +piteously and said:</p> + +<p>“Monsieur, are there any other stains? Did I get anything on my back?”</p> + +<p>I assured him that he had not, and with an expression of satisfaction, +he put the handkerchief back in his pocket once more.</p> + +<p>A few steps further on, upon the walk which stretches in front of the +red and yellow, and blue houses, the windows of which are brave with +wares of many kinds, we found an oyster stand. Upon the little tables +were displayed piles of oysters in their shells, and flasks of vinegar.</p> + +<p>When we passed by the oyster stand, as the fish appeared fresh and +appetizing, I said to the orange fisher.</p> + +<p>“If you cared for anything to eat except fruit, I might ask you to +have some oysters with me.”</p> + +<p>His black eyes glistened and we sat down together to eat our oysters. +The merchant opened them for us while we waited. He started to bring +us vinegar, but my companion stopped him with an imperious gesture. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> +He opened his bag carefully and triumphantly produced a lemon. The +lemon, having been in close contact with the bit of coal, might have +passed for black itself. But my guest took out his handkerchief and +wiped it off. Then he cut the fruit and offered me half, but I like +oysters without other flavor, so I declined with thanks.</p> + +<p>After our luncheon we went back to the quay. The orange fisher asked +me for a cigarette and lighted it with a match which he had in another +pocket of his coat.</p> + +<p>Then, the cigarette between his lips, puffing rings toward the sky +like a man, the little creature threw himself down on the ground and +with his eyes fixed upon the statue of Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, took +the very pose of the boy who is the most beautiful ornament of the +Brussels tower. He did not lose a line of the attitude, and seemed +very proud of the fact and apparently desired to play the part exactly.</p> +</div> + +<p>Upon the following day Joseph Josephin met M. Gaston Leroux once more +upon the quay, and the man handed him a newspaper which he carried +in his hand. The boy read the article pointed out to him, and the +journalist gave him a bright new 100-sous piece. Rouletabille made no +difficulties about accepting it, and seemed to even find the gift a +natural one. “I take your money,” he said to Gaston Leroux, “because +we are collaborators.” With his hundred sous he bought himself a fine +new bootblack’s box and installed himself in business opposite the +Bregaillon. For two years he polished the boots of those who came to +eat the traditional bouillabaisse at this hostelry. When he was not at +work, he would sit on his box and read. With the feeling of ownership +which his box and his business had brought him, ambition had entered +his mind. He had received too good an education and had been too well +instructed in rudimentary things not to understand that if he did not +himself finish what others had begun for him, he would be deprived of +the best chance which he had of making for himself a place in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span> +world.</p> + +<p>His customers grew interested in the little bootblack, who always had +on his box some work of history or mathematics, and a harness maker +became so attached to him that he took him into his shop.</p> + +<p>Soon Rouletabille was promoted to the dignity of working in leather, +and was able to save. At the age of sixteen years, having a little +money in his pocket, he took the train for Paris. What did he intend to +do there? To look for the Lady in Black.</p> + +<p>Not one day had passed without his having thought of the mysterious +visitor to the parlor of the boarding school, and, although no one +had ever told him that she lived in Paris, he was persuaded that no +other city in the world was worthy to contain a lady who wore so sweet +a perfume. And then his little schoolmates, who had been able to see +her form when she glided out of the parlor, had often said: “See! the +Parisienne is here again to-day!” It would have been difficult to +exactly define the ideas in Rouletabille’s head, and perhaps he himself +scarcely knew what they were. His longing was merely to see the Lady +in Black—to watch her reverently—at a distance, as a devotee watches +the image of a saint. Would he dare to speak to her? The importance of +the accusation of theft which had been brought against him had only +grown greater in Rouletabille’s imagination as time had gone by, and +he believed that it would always be a barrier between himself and the +Lady in Black, which he had not the right to try to throw down. Perhaps +even—but, come what might, he longed to see her. That was the only +thing of which he was sure.</p> + +<p>As soon as he reached the capital, he looked up M. Gaston Leroux, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span> +recalled himself to the latter’s memory, telling him that, although +he felt no particular liking for the life, which he considered rather +a lazy one for a man who liked to be up and doing, he had decided to +become a journalist. And he fairly demanded that his old acquaintance +should at once give him a trial as a reporter.</p> + +<p>Leroux tried to turn the youth from his project. At last, tired of his +persistent requests, the editor said:</p> + +<p>“Well, my lad, since you have nothing special to do just now, go and +find the left foot of the body in the Rue Oberkampf.”</p> + +<p>And with these words, M. Leroux turned away, leaving poor Rouletabille +standing there with half a dozen young reporters tittering around him. +But the boy was not daunted in the least. He searched through the files +of the paper and found out that the <i>Epoch</i> was offering a large +reward to the person who would bring to its office the foot which was +missing from the mutilated body of a woman, which had been found in the +Rue Oberkampf.</p> + +<p>The rest we know. In “The Mystery of the Yellow Room,” I have told +how Rouletabille succeeded on this occasion, and in what manner there +revealed itself to him his own singular calling—that of always +beginning to reason a matter out from the point where others had +finished.</p> + +<p>I have told, too, by what chance he was led one evening to the Elysee, +where he inhaled as he passed by the perfume of the Lady in Black. He +realized then that it was Mlle. Stangerson who had been his visitor at +the school, and for whom he had been seeking so long. What more need I +add? Why speak of the sensations which his knowledge as to the wearer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span> +of the perfume aroused in the heart of Rouletabille during the events +at the Glandier, and, above all, after his trip to America? They may be +easily guessed. How simple a thing now to understand his hesitations +and his whims! The proofs brought by him from Cincinnati in regard +to the child of the woman who had been Jean Roussel’s wife had been +sufficiently explicit to awaken in his mind a suspicion that he himself +might be that child, but not enough so to render him certain of the +fact. However, his instinct drew him so strongly to the professor’s +daughter that he could scarcely resist his longing to throw himself +into her arms and press her to his heart and cry out to her: “You are +my mother! you are my mother!”</p> + +<p>And he fled from her presence just as he had fled from the vestry on +the day of her wedding, in order that there should not escape from +him any sign of the secret tenderness that had burned in his breast +through so many long years. For horrible thoughts dwelt in his mind. +Suppose he were to make himself known to her, and she were to repulse +him—cast him off—turn from him in horror—from him, the little thief +of the boarding school—the son of Roussel—Ballmeyer—the heir of +the crimes of Larsan! Suppose she were to order him to get out of her +sight, never to come near her again, nor to breathe the same air which +brought back to him, whenever he came near her, the perfume of the Lady +in Black! Ah, how he had fought, on account of these frightful visions, +to restrain himself from yielding to the almost overwhelming impulse +to ask each time that he came near her, “Is it you? Are you the Lady +in Black?” As to her, she had seemed fond of him from the first, but, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span> +doubtless, that was because of the Glandier affair. If she were really +the Lady in Black, she must believe that the child whom he had been was +dead. And if it were not she—if by some fatality which set at naught +both his instincts and his powers of reasoning, it were not she! Could +he, through any imprudence, risk having her discover that he had fled +from the school at Eu under ban as a thief? No, no—not that! She had +often said to him:</p> + +<p>“Where were you brought up, my boy? What school did you attend when you +were a child?” And he had replied: “I was in school at Bordeaux.”</p> + +<p>He might as well have answered, “At Pekin.”</p> + +<p>However, this torture could not last always, he told himself. If it +were she, he would know how to say things to her that must open her +heart. Anything would be better than to be sure that she was not the +Lady in Black, but some stranger who had never held him to her heart. +But he must be certain—certain beyond any doubt, and he knew how to +place himself in the presence of his memories of the Lady in Black, +just as a dog is sure of finding its master. The simile which presented +itself quite naturally to his imagination was simply that of “following +the scent.” And this led us, under the circumstances which I have +narrated, to Trepot and to Eu. However, it is by no means certain that +decisive results would have been gained from this expedition—at least +in the eyes of a third person, like myself—had it not been for the +influence of the odor—if the letter from Mathilde, which I had handed +to Rouletabille in the train, had not suddenly, with its faint, sweet +perfume, brought to us directly the evidence which we were seeking. I +have never read this letter. It is a document so sacred in the eyes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span> +of my friend, that other eyes will never behold it, but I know that +the gentle reproaches which it contained for the boy’s rudeness and +lack of confidence in the writer, had been so tender that Rouletabille +could no longer deceive himself, even if the daughter of Professor +Stangerson had not concluded the note with a final sentence, through +which throbbed the heart of a despairing mother, and which said that +“the interest which she felt in him arose less from the services he had +rendered her, than because of the memories which she had of a little +boy, the son of a friend, whom she had loved very dearly, and who had +killed himself ‘like a little man with a broken heart’ at the age of +nine years, and whom Rouletabille greatly resembled.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br> +PANIC</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Dijon—Macon—Lyons—certainly the boy could not be sleeping all +this time. I called him softly and he did not reply, but I would +have wagered my hand that he was not sleeping. What was he planning? +How quiet he was! What could it be that had given him such a strange +calmness? I seemed to see him again as he had been in the parlor, +suddenly standing erect as he said: “Let us go on!” in that voice so +composed and tranquil and resolute. Go on to whom? Toward what was he +resolved to go? Toward Her, evidently, who was in danger, and who could +be rescued only by him—toward her who was his mother and who did not +know it.</p> + +<p>“It is a secret which must remain between you and me! That child is +dead to the whole world, except to us two!”</p> + +<p>That was his decision, taken almost in a single moment, never to reveal +himself to her. And the poor child had come to seek the certainty that +she was indeed the Lady in Black, only to have the right to speak to +her! In the very moment that the assurance which he sought was his, he +had determined to forget it; he condemned himself to endless silence. +Poor little hero soul, which had understood that the Lady in Black, +who had such dire need of his help, would have shrunk from a safety +bought by the warfare of a son against his father! Where might not such +warfare lead? To what bloody conflict? Everything must be expected, no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> +matter how terrible, and Rouletabille must have his hands free to fight +to the death for the Lady in Black.</p> + +<p>The boy was so quiet that I could not even hear him breathing. I leaned +over him; his eyes were open.</p> + +<p>“Do you know what I have been thinking of?” he said. “Of the dispatch +that came to us from Bourg and was signed ‘Darzac,’ and the other +dispatch which came from Valence and was signed ‘Stangerson.’”</p> + +<p>“And the more I think of them, the stranger they seem to me. At Bourg, +M. and Mme. Darzac were not with M. Stangerson, who left them at Dijon. +Besides, the dispatch says: ‘We are going to rejoin M. Stangerson.’ But +the Stangerson dispatch proves that M. Stangerson, who had continued on +his journey toward Marseilles, is again with the Darzacs. The Darzacs +might have rejoined M. Stangerson on the way to Marseilles; but if that +were so, the Professor must have stopped on the road. Why was this? +He did not expect to do so. At the train, he said: ‘To-morrow at ten +o’clock, I shall be at Mentone.’ Look at the hour that the dispatch was +sent from Valence, and then we’ll look in the time table and find out +the hour at which M. Stangerson would have passed through Valence if he +had not stopped upon the journey.”</p> + +<p>We consulted the time table. M. Stangerson should have passed through +Valence at 12:44 o’clock in the morning, and the dispatch was sent at +12:47 o’clock. It had, therefore, been sent by M. Stangerson while he +was continuing on the trip which he had planned. At that moment he +must have been with M. and Mme. Darzac. Still poring over the time +table, we endeavored to solve the mystery of this re-encounter. M. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span> +Stangerson had left the Darzacs at Dijon, where the whole party had +arrived at twenty-seven minutes after six o’clock in the evening. The +Professor had then taken the train which leaves Dijon at eight minutes +past seven, and had arrived at Lyons at four minutes after ten and at +Valence at forty-seven minutes after midnight. During the same time +the Darzacs, leaving Dijon at seven o’clock, continued on their way +to Modane, and, by way of Saint-Amour, reached Bourg at three minutes +past nine in the evening, on the train which was scheduled to leave +at eight minutes past nine. M. Darzac’s dispatch was sent from Bourg, +and had left the telegraph office at the station at 9:28. The Darzacs, +therefore, must have left their train at Bourg, and remained there. Or, +it might have happened that the train was late. In any case, we must +seek the reason for M. Darzac’s telegram somewhere between Dijon and +Bourg, after the departure of M. Stangerson. One might even go further, +and say ‘between Louhans and Bourg,’ for the train stops at Louhans, +and if anything had happened before he reached there, at eight o’clock, +it is altogether likely that M. Darzac would have sent his message from +that station.</p> + +<p>Finally, seeking the correspondence between Bourg and Lyons, we +reasoned that M. Darzac must have sent his wire from Bourg one minute +before leaving for Lyons by the 9:29 train. But this train reached +Lyons at 10:23 o’clock, while M. Stangerson’s train reached Lyons at +10:24. After changing their plans and leaving the train at Bourg, M. +and Mme. Darzac must have rejoined M. Stangerson at Lyons, which they +reached one minute before him. Now, what had upset their plans? We +could only think of the most terrible hypotheses, every one of which, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span> +alas! had as its basis the reappearance of Larsan. The fact which gave +the greatest color to this idea was the desire expressed by each of +our friends, <i>not to frighten anyone</i>. M. Darzac in his message, +Mme. Darzac in hers, had not endeavored to conceal the gravity of the +situation. As to M. Stangerson, we asked ourselves whether he had been +made aware of the new developments, whatever they might be.</p> + +<p>Having thus approximately settled the question of time and distance, +Rouletabille invited me to profit by the luxurious accommodations which +the International Sleeping Car company places at the disposal of those +who wish to sleep while on a journey, and he himself set me the example +by making as careful a night toilet as he would have done in his own +room at his hotel. A quarter of an hour later he was snoring, but I +believed the snores to be feigned. At any rate, I could not sleep.</p> + +<p>At Avignon Rouletabille jumped up from his cot, hastily donned his +trousers and coat, and rushed out to the refreshment rooms to get a +cup of chocolate. I was not hungry. From Avignon to Marseilles, in our +anxiety and suspense, neither of us desired to talk, and the journey +was continued almost in silence, but at the sight of the city in which +he had led such a chequered existence, Rouletabille, doubtless to keep +from showing the emotion which he felt, and to lighten the heaviness of +both our hearts as we drew near our journey’s end, began to tell funny +stories, in the narration of which, however, he did not seem to find +the least amusement. I scarcely heard what he was saying. And at last +we reached Toulon.</p> + +<p>What a trip! And it might have been so beautiful! Ordinarily, it is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span> +always with an almost boyish enthusiasm that I come within sight of +this marvellous country, with its azure shores, like a bit of dreamland +or a corner of paradise after the horrible departure from Paris in the +snow and rain and darkness and dampness and dirt. With what joy that +night, had things been otherwise, would I have set my foot upon the +quay, sure of finding the glorious friend who would be waiting for +me in the morning at the end of those two iron rails—the wonderful +southern sun!</p> + +<p>When we left Toulon, our impatience became extreme. And at Cannes, we +were scarcely surprised at all to see M. Darzac upon the platform of +the station, anxiously looking for us. He could scarcely have received +the dispatch which Rouletabille had sent him from Dijon, announcing the +hour at which we would reach Mentone. Having arrived there with Mme. +Darzac and M. Stangerson the day before, at ten o’clock in the morning, +he must have left Mentone almost at once, and have come to meet us at +Cannes, for we could understand from his dispatch that he had something +to say to us in confidence. His face looked worn and sad. Somehow, it +frightened us only to look at him.</p> + +<p>“Trouble?” questioned Rouletabille, briefly.</p> + +<p>“No, not yet,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>“God be praised!” exclaimed Rouletabille, having a deep sigh. “We have +come in time!”</p> + +<p>M. Darzac said simply:</p> + +<p>“I thank you for coming.”</p> + +<p>And he pressed both our hands in silence, following us into our +compartment, in which we locked ourselves, taking care to draw the +curtains and so isolate ourselves completely. When we were comfortably +settled, and the train had begun to move on, our friend spoke again. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> +His voice trembled so that he could scarcely utter the words.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said; “he is not dead.”</p> + +<p>“We suspected it!” interrupted Rouletabille. “But are you sure?”</p> + +<p>“I have seen him as surely as I have seen you.”</p> + +<p>“And has Mme. Darzac seen him?”</p> + +<p>“Alas, yes! But it is necessary that we should use every means to make +her believe that it was an illusion. I could not bear it if she were +to lose her mind again, poor, innocent, wretched girl! Ah, my friends, +what a fatality pursues us! What has this man come back to do to us? +What does he want now?”</p> + +<p>I looked at Rouletabille. His face was even more full of grief than +that of M. Darzac. The blow which he feared had fallen. He leaned back +against the cushions as though he were going to faint. There was a +brief pause, and then M. Darzac spoke again:</p> + +<p>“Listen! This man must disappear—he must be gotten rid of! We must +go to him and ask what it is that he wants. If it is money, he may +take all that I have. If he will not go, I shall kill him. It is very +simple—after all, I think that would be the simplest way. Don’t you +think so, too?”</p> + +<p>We could not answer. It was too pitiful. Rouletabille, overcoming his +own feelings by a visible effort, engaged M. Darzac in conversation, +endeavoring to calm him, and asking him to tell us what had happened +since his departure from Paris.</p> + +<p>And he told us that the event which had changed the face of his +existence had taken place at Bourg, just as we had thought. Two +compartments of the sleeping car had been reserved by M. Darzac, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span> +these compartments were joined by a little dressing room. In one had +been placed the travelling bag with the toilet articles of Mme. Darzac, +and in the other the smaller packages. It was in the latter compartment +that the Darzacs and Professor Stangerson had travelled from Paris to +Dijon, where the three had left the train, and had dined at the buffet. +They had arrived at 6:27 o’clock, exactly on time, and M. Stangerson +had left Dijon at eight minutes after seven, and the Darzacs at just +seven o’clock.</p> + +<p>The Professor had bidden adieu to his daughter and his son-in-law +upon the platform of the station after dinner. M. and Mme. Darzac had +returned to their compartment—the one in which the small parcels had +been deposited—and remained at the window, chatting with the Professor +until the train started. As it steamed out of the station, the newly +wedded pair looked back and waved their hands to M. Stangerson, who +was still standing upon the platform, throwing kisses at them from the +distance.</p> + +<p>From Dijon to Bourg neither M. nor Mme. Darzac had occasion to enter +the adjacent compartment, where Mme. Darzac’s night bag had been +placed. The door of this compartment, opening upon the vestibule, had +been closed at Paris, as soon as the baggage had been brought there. +But the door had not been locked, either upon the outside with a key +by the porter, nor on the inside with the bolt by the Darzacs. The +curtain of the glass door had been drawn over the pane from the inside +by M. Darzac in such a way that no one could look into the compartment +from the corridor. But the curtain between the two compartments had +not been drawn. All of these circumstances were brought out by the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> +questions asked by Rouletabille of M. Darzac, and, although I could not +understand his reasons for going into such minute detail, I give the +facts in order to make the condition under which the journey of the +Darzacs to Bourg and of M. Stangerson to Dijon was accomplished.</p> + +<p>When they reached Bourg our travellers learned that, on account of +an accident on the line at Culoz, the train would be delayed for an +hour and a half. M. and Mme. Darzac alighted and took a stroll on the +platform. M. Darzac, while talking with his wife, mentioned the fact +that he had forgotten to write some important letters before leaving +Paris. Both entered the buffet, and M. Darzac asked for writing +materials. Mathilde sat beside him for a few moments and then remarked +that she would take a little walk through the station while he finished +his letters.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” replied M. Darzac. “As soon as I have finished, I will +join you.”</p> + +<p>From that point, I will quote M. Darzac’s own words:</p> + +<p>“I had finished writing,” he said. “And I arose to go and look for +Mathilde, when I saw her approaching the buffet, pallid and trembling. +As soon as she perceived me, she uttered a shriek and threw herself +into my arms. ‘Oh, my God!’ she cried. ‘Oh, my God!’ It seemed +impossible for her to utter any other words. She was shaking from +head to foot. I tried to calm her. I assured her that she had nothing +to fear when I was with her, and I strove as gently and patiently as +I could to draw from her the cause of her sudden terror. I made her +sit down, for her limbs seemed too weak to support her, and I begged +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> +her to take some restorative, but she told me that she could not even +swallow a drop of water. Her teeth chattered as though she had an +ague. At length she was able to speak, and she told me, interrupting +herself at almost every other word, and looking about her as though she +expected to encounter something which she dreaded, that she had started +to walk about the station, as she had said she intended to do, but that +she had not dared to go far, lest I should finish my writing and look +for her. Then she went through the station and out upon the platform. +She decided to come back to the buffet, when she noticed through +the lighted windows of the cars, the sleeping car porters, who were +making up the bed in a berth near our own. She remembered immediately +that her night travelling bag, in which she had put her jewels, was +standing unlocked, and she decided to go and lock it up without delay, +not because she suspected the honesty of the employees, but through a +natural instinct of prudence on a journey. She entered the car, walked +down the corridor and came to the glass door of the compartment which +had been reserved for her, and which neither of us had entered since +leaving Paris. She opened the door and instantly uttered a cry of +horror. No one heard her, for there was no one in that part of the car, +and a train which passed at that moment drowned the sound of her voice +with the clamor of the locomotive. What had happened to alarm her? The +most terrible, ghastly, monstrous thing that the imagination could +devise.</p> + +<p>“Within the compartment, the little door opening upon the dressing +cabinet was half drawn toward the interior of the section, cutting +off diagonally the view of whoever might enter. This little door was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> +ornamented by a mirror. There, in the glass, Mathilde beheld the face +of Larsan! She flung herself backward, shrieking for help, and fled so +precipitately that, in leaping down from the platform of the car, she +fell on her knees in the trainshed. Regaining her feet with difficulty, +she dragged herself toward the buffet, which she reached in the +condition which I have described.</p> + +<p>“When she had told me these things, my first care was to try to +convince her that she was laboring under some hideous delusion—partly +because I prayed that this might be the case, and that the horrible +thing which she believed had not happened, but mainly because I felt +that it was my duty, if I wished to prevent Mathilde from going mad, to +make her think that she must have been mistaken. Wasn’t Larsan dead and +buried? * * * As I soothed her thus, I really believed what I said, and +I continued to reassure her until there remained no doubt in my mind, +at least, that what she had seen was merely a phantom, conjured up by +fear and imagination. Naturally, I wished to make an investigation +for myself, and I offered to accompany Mathilde at once to the +compartment, in order to prove to her that she had been the victim of +an hallucination. She was bitterly opposed to the idea, crying out that +neither she nor I must ever enter the compartment again, and, not only +that, but she refused to continue our journey that night. She said all +these things in little halting phrases—she could hardly breathe—and +it caused me the most intense pain to look at her and listen to her. +The more I told her that such an apparition was an impossibility, +the more she insisted that it was a reality. I tried to remind her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span> +of how seldom she had seen Larsan while the events at the Glandier +were going on—which was true—and to persuade her that she could not +be certain that it was his face which she had beheld, and not that +of some one who might resemble him. She replied that she remembered +Larsan’s face perfectly—that it had appeared before her twice under +such circumstances as would impress it indelibly upon her memory, even +if she were to live for a century—once during the strange scene in +the gallery, and again at the moment when they came into her sick room +to place me under arrest. And then, now that she knew who Larsan was, +it was not only the features of the Secret Service agent that she had +recognized, but the dreaded countenance of the man who had not ceased +pursuing her for so many years.</p> + +<p>“She cried out that she could swear on her life and on mine that she +had seen Ballmeyer—that Ballmeyer was alive—alive in the glass, with +the smooth face of Larsan and his high, bald forehead. She clung to me, +crouching upon the ground like a helpless wild animal, as though she +feared a separation yet more terrible than the others. She drew me from +the buffet where, fortunately, we had been entirely alone, out upon the +platform, and then, suddenly she released my arm, and hiding her face +in her hands, rushed into the superintendent’s office. The man was as +alarmed as myself when he saw the poor soul, and I could only repeat +under my breath to myself, ‘She is going mad again! She will lose her +reason!’</p> + +<p>“I explained to the superintendent that my wife had been frightened at +something she fancied that she had seen while alone in our compartment, +and I begged him to keep her in his office while I went myself to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> +discover what it was that she had seen.</p> + +<p>“And then, my friends,” continued Robert Darzac, his voice beginning +to tremble, “I left the superintendent’s office, but I had no sooner +gotten out of the room than I went back and slammed the door behind me. +My face must have looked strange enough, to judge from the expression +of the superintendent’s face when I reappeared. But there was reason +for it. <i>I, too, had seen Larsan.</i> My wife had had no illusion. +<i>Larsan was there</i>—in the station—upon the platform outside that +door!”</p> + +<p>Robert Darzac paused for an instant, as though the remembrance overcame +him. He passed his hand over his forehead, heaved a sigh and resumed: +“He was there, in front of the superintendent’s door, standing under +a gas jet. Evidently, he expected us and was waiting for us. For, +extraordinarily enough, he made no effort to hide himself. On the +contrary, anyone would have declared that he had stationed himself +there for the express purpose of being seen. The gesture which had made +me close the door upon this apparition was purely instinctive. When I +opened it again, intending to walk straight up to the miserable wretch, +he had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“The superintendent must have thought that he had fallen in with +two lunatics. Mathilde was staring at me, her great eyes wide open, +speechless, as though she were a somnambulist. In a moment, however, +she came back to herself sufficiently to ask me whether it were far +from Bourg to Lyons, and what was the next train which would take +us there. At the same time, she begged me to give orders about our +baggage, and asked me to accede to her desire to rejoin her father +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span> +as soon as possible. I could see no other means of calming her, and, +far from making any objection to the new project, I immediately +entered into her plans. Besides, now that I had seen Larsan with my +own eyes—yes, with my own eyes—I knew well that the long honeymoon +trip which we had planned must be given up, and, my dear boy,” went on +M. Darzac, turning to Rouletabille, “I became possessed with the idea +that we were running the risk of some mysterious and fantastic danger, +from which you alone could rescue us, if it were not already too late. +Mathilde was grateful to me for the readiness with which I fell in +with her wish to join her father, and she thanked me fervently, when +I told her that in a few minutes we would be on board the 9:29 train, +which reaches Lyons at about ten o’clock, and when we consulted the +time table, we discovered that we would overtake M. Stangerson himself +at that point. Mathilde showed as much gratitude toward me as though +I were personally responsible for this lucky chance. She had regained +her composure to a certain extent when the nine o’clock train arrived +in the station, but at the moment that we boarded the train, as we +rapidly crossed the platform and passed beneath the gas jet where I +had seen Larsan, I felt her arm trembling in my own. I looked around, +but could not see any sign of our enemy. I asked her whether she had +seen anything, and she made no reply. Her agitation seemed to increase, +however, and she begged me not to take her into a private car, but to +enter a car the berths of which were already two-thirds filled with +passengers. Under pretext of making some inquiries about the baggage, +I left her for an instant, and went to the telegraph office, where I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span> +sent the telegram to you. I said nothing to Mathilde of this dispatch, +because I continued to assure her that her eyes must have deceived her, +and because on no account did I wish her to believe that I placed any +faith in such a resurrection. When my wife opened her travelling bag, +she found that no one had touched her jewels.</p> + +<p>“The few words which we exchanged concerning the secret were in +relation to the necessity for concealing it from M. Stangerson, to +whom it might have dealt a mortal blow. I will pass over his amazement +when he beheld us upon the platform of the station at Lyons. Mathilde +explained to him that on account of a serious accident, which had +closed the line at Culoz, we had decided, since a change of plans had +to be made, that we would join him, and to spend a few days with him +at the home of Arthur Rance and his young wife, as we had before been +entreated to do by this faithful friend of ours.”</p> + +<p>At this time, it might be well for me to interrupt M. Darzac’s +narrative to recall to the memory of the reader of “The Mystery of the +Yellow Room” the fact that M. Arthur William Rance had for many years +cherished a hopeless devotion for Mlle. Stangerson, but had at last +overcome it, and married a beautiful American girl, who knew nothing of +the mysterious adventures of the Professor’s daughter.</p> + +<p>After the affair at the Glandier, and while Mlle. Stangerson was still +a patient in a private asylum near Paris, where the treatment restored +her to health and reason, we heard one fine day that M. Arthur William +Rance was about to wed the niece of an old professor of geology at +the Academy of Science in Philadelphia. Those who had known of his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span> +luckless passion for Mathilde, and had gauged its depths by the excess +with which it was displayed (for it had seemed at one time to rob the +man of sense and reason and turn him into a maniac)—such persons, I +say, believed that Rance was marrying in desperation, and prophesied +little happiness for the union. Stories were told that the match—which +was a good one for Arthur Rance, for Miss Edith Prescott was rich—had +been brought about in a rather singular fashion. But these are stories +which I may tell at some future time. You will learn then by what chain +of circumstances the Rances had been led to locate at Rochers Rouges in +the old castle, on the peninsula of Hercules, of which they had become +the owners the preceding autumn.</p> + +<p>But at present I must give place to M. Darzac, who continued his story, +as follows:</p> + +<p>“When we had given these explanations to M. Stangerson, my wife and I +saw that he seemed to understand very little of what we had said, and +that, instead of being glad to have us with him again, he appeared very +mournful. Mathilde tried in vain to seem happy. Her father saw that +something had happened since we had left him which we were concealing +from him. Mathilde began to talk of the ceremony of the morning, and +in that way the conversation came around to you, my young friend”—and +again M. Darzac addressed himself to Rouletabille—“and I took the +occasion to say to M. Stangerson that since your vacation was just +beginning at the time that we were all going to Mentone, you might be +pleased with an invitation that would give you the chance of spending +your holiday in our society. There was, I said, plenty of room at +Rochers Rouges, and I was certain that M. Arthur Rance and his bride +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span> +would extend to you a cordial welcome. While I was speaking, Mathilde +looked gratefully at me and pressed my hand tenderly with an effusion +which showed me what gladness she was experiencing at the proposition. +Thus it happened that when we reached Valence, I had M. Stangerson +write the dispatch which you must have received. All night long we +did not sleep. While her father rested in his compartments next to +ours, Mathilde opened my travelling bag and took out my revolver. She +requested me to put it in my overcoat pocket, saying: ‘If <i>he</i> +should attack us, you must defend yourself.’ Ah, what a night we +passed! We kept silence, each attempting to deceive the other into the +belief that we were resting, our eyes closed, with the light burning +full force, for we did not dare to sit in the darkness. The doors +of our compartment were locked and bolted, but yet, every moment, +we dreaded to see <i>his</i> face appear. When we heard a step in +the corridor, our hearts beat wildly. We seemed to recognize it. And +Mathilde had put a cover over the mirror, for fear of glancing toward +it and seeing the reflection of that face again. ‘Had he followed us?’ +‘Could we have been mistaken?’ ‘Would we escape from him?’ ‘Had he gone +on to Culoz on the train which we had left?’ ‘Could we hope for any +such good fortune?’ For my own part, I did not believe that we could. +And she—she! Ah, how my heart bled for her, wrapped in a silence like +that of death, sitting there in her corner. I knew how she was weighed +down by despair and agony—how far more unhappy she was even than +myself, because of the misery which it seemed to be her lot to bring +upon those whom she loved most dearly. I longed to console her, to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span> +comfort her, but I found no words. And when once I attempted to speak, +she made a gesture so full of misery and desolation that I realized +that I would be far kinder if I kept silence. Then, like her, I closed +my eyes.”</p> + +<p>This was M. Darzac’s story, although I have shortened it in a certain +degree. We felt, Rouletabille and myself, that the narrative was so +important that we both resolved on arriving at Mentone, that we would +write it down from memory as faithfully as possible. We did as we +agreed, and where our versions did not agree, or halted a little, we +submitted them to M. Darzac, who made a few unimportant changes, after +which the story read just as I have given it here.</p> + +<p>The rest of the journey taken by the Darzacs and M. Stangerson +presented no incident worthy of note. At the station of Mentone +Garavan, they found M. Arthur Rance, who was astonished at beholding +the bride and bridegroom; but when he was told that they intended +to spend a few days with him, and to accept the invitation which M. +Darzac, under various pretexts, had always declined, he was delighted, +and declared that his wife would be as glad as himself. He was pleased, +too, to learn that Rouletabille might soon join the party. M. Arthur +Rance had not, even after his marriage to Miss Edith Prescott, been +able to overcome the extreme reserve with which M. Darzac had always +treated him. When, during his last trip to San Remo, the young +Professor of the Sorbonne had been urged in passing to make a visit at +the Château Hercules, he had made his excuses in the most ceremonious +manner. But when he met Rance in the station at Mentone Garavan, M. +Darzac greeted him most cordially, and complimented him upon his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span> +appearance, saying that the air of the country seemed to agree with him +perfectly.</p> + +<p>We have seen how the apparition of Larsan in the station at Bourg had +overthrown all the plans of M. and Mme. Darzac, and had completely +overwhelmed them both with grief and consternation, and had made them +turn to the Rances’ home as to a refuge, casting them, figuratively +speaking, into the arms of these people who were not especially +congenial to them, but whom they believed to be honest, loyal and +willing to protect them. We know that M. Stangerson, to whom nothing +had been told of what had occurred, was beginning to suspect something, +and we know that all three of the party had called Rouletabille to +their aid. It was a veritable panic. And, so far as M. Darzac was +concerned, the terror which he felt was increased by news brought to us +by M. Arthur Rance when he met us at Nice. But before this there had +occurred a little incident which I cannot pass by in silence. As soon +as we reached the Nice station, I had jumped from the train and hurried +into the telegraph office to ask whether there was any message for me. +A dispatch was handed to me, and, without opening it, I went back to M. +Darzac and Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“Read this!” I said to the young reporter.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille opened the envelope and read:</p> + +<p>“Brignolles has not been away from Paris since April 6th. This is an +absolute certainty.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille looked at me for a moment and then said:</p> + +<p>“Well, what does this amount to, now that you have it? What did you +suspect, anyway?”</p> + +<p>“It was at Dijon,” I rejoined, vexed at the attitude of the lad toward +the affair, “that the idea came to me that Brignolles might be in some +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span> +way concerned in the misfortunes that seem to be crowding upon us, and +of which warning was given by the telegrams that you received. I wired +one of my friends to make inquiries for me in regard to the movements +of the fellow during the last few days. I was anxious to learn whether +he had left Paris.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Rouletabille. “You have your inquiries answered. Are you +willing to admit now that Brignolles is not and has never been Larsan +in disguise?”</p> + +<p>“I never thought of any such thing as that!” I exclaimed with some +vexation, for I suspected that Rouletabille was laughing at me.</p> + +<p>The truth was that the idea, absurd as it was, had actually entered my +mind.</p> + +<p>“Will you never stop thinking ill of poor Brignolles?” asked M. Darzac, +with a sad smile at me. “He is quiet and shy, I grant you, but he is a +good lad, just the same.”</p> + +<p>“That’s where we differ,” I retorted.</p> + +<p>And I retired to my own corner of the railway carriage. In general +my personal intuitions in regard to things were poor enough guides +compared to the wonderful insight of Rouletabille, but in this case, +we were to receive proof, only a few days later, that even if the +personality of Brignolles were not another of Larsan’s disguises, +the laboratory assistant was nevertheless a miserable wretch. And +this time both M. Darzac and Rouletabille begged my pardon and paid +their respects to my despised intuitions. But there is no use of +anticipating. If I mention this incident here, it is for the purpose of +showing to how great an extent I was haunted by the image of Larsan, +hiding under some new form, and lurking unknown among us. Dear Heaven! +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> +Larsan had so often proved his talent—I may even say his genius—in +this respect, that I felt that he was quite capable of defying us now, +and of mingling with us while we thought that he was a stranger—or, +perhaps, even a friend.</p> + +<p>I was soon to change my ideas, however, and to believe that this time +Ballmeyer had altered his usual tactics, and the unexpected arrival of +M. Arthur Rance was to go far in leading me to this opinion. Instead +of hiding himself, the bandit was showing himself openly—at least, +to some of us—with an audacity that staggered belief. After all, +what had he to fear in this part of the country? He was well aware +that neither M. Darzac nor his wife would be likely to denounce him, +nor, consequently, would their friends do so. His bold revelation of +his presence seemed to have but one end in view—that of ruining the +happiness of the couple who had believed that his death had opened the +way for their marriage. But an objection arose to that conjecture. Why +should he have chosen such a means of vengeance? Would it not have been +a better plan to let himself be seen before the marriage had taken +place? He would certainly have prevented it by so doing. Yes, but in +that case, he would have found it necessary to appear in his own person +in Paris. But when had any thought of danger or risk been able to deter +Larsan from an undertaking upon which he had determined? Who dared +affirm that he knew of one such case?</p> + +<p>But now let me tell you of the news brought by Arthur Rance when he +joined the three of us on the train at Nice. Rance, of course, knew +nothing of what had happened at Bourg, nothing of the appearing of +Larsan to Mme. Darzac on the train and to her husband in the station, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span> +but he brought alarming tidings. If we had retained the slightest hope +that we had lost Larsan on the road to Culoz, Rance’s words obliterated +it, for he, too, had seen the man whom we so feared, face to face. And +he had come to warn us, before we reached his home, so that we might +decide upon some plan of action.</p> + +<p>“When we were about to return home after having taken you to the +station,” said Rance to Darzac; “after the train had pulled out, +your wife, M. Stangerson and myself thought that we would leave the +carriage for a little while and take a stroll on the promenade walk. +M. Stangerson gave his arm to his daughter. I was at the right of +M. Stangerson, who, therefore, was walking between the two of us. +Suddenly, as we paused for a moment near a sort of public garden to let +a tramcar pass, I brushed against a man who said to me, ‘I beg your +pardon, sir.’ The sound of the voice made me tremble and I knew as well +beforehand as I did when I raised my head that it was Larsan. The voice +was the voice I had heard at the Court of Assizes. He cast a long, calm +look upon the three of us. I do not know how I was able to restrain the +exclamation which rose to my lips,—how I kept from crying aloud his +miserable name! Happily M. Stangerson and Mme. Darzac had not seen him +and I hurried them rapidly away. I made them walk around the garden +and listen to the music in the park and then we returned to where the +carriage was waiting. Upon the sidewalk in front of the station, there +was Larsan again! I do not know—I cannot understand how M. Stangerson +and Mme. Darzac could have helped but see him——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> + +<p>“Are you sure that they did not see him?” interrupted Robert Darzac.</p> + +<p>“Absolutely sure. I feigned a sudden attack of illness. We got into the +carriage and ordered the coachman to drive as fast as he could. The man +was still standing on the sidewalk, staring after us with his cold, +cruel eyes when we drove away.”</p> + +<p>“And are you certain that my wife did not see him?” repeated Darzac, +who was growing more and more agitated.</p> + +<p>“Certain, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>“But, Good God, M. Darzac!” interposed Rouletabille. “How long do +you think you can deceive your wife as to the fact that Larsan has +reappeared and that she actually saw him? If you imagine that you can +keep her in ignorance for very long, you are greatly mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“But,” replied Darzac, “while we were ending our journey, the idea that +she had been the victim of a delusion seemed to grow in her mind and by +the time we reached Garavan, she seemed to be quite calm.”</p> + +<p>“At the time you reached Garavan,” said Rouletabille, quietly, “your +wife sent me the telegram I am going to ask you to read.”</p> + +<p>And the reporter held out to M. Darzac the paper which bore the two +words, “Save us.”</p> + +<p>M. Darzac read it with the blood seeming to die away from his face as +we looked at him.</p> + +<p>“She will go mad again,” was all that he said.</p> + +<p>That was what he dreaded—all of us—and, strangely enough, when we +arrived at the station of Mentone Garavan and found M. Stangerson and +Mme. Darzac (who were awaiting us in spite of the promise which the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span> +Professor had made to Arthur Rance not to leave Rochers Rouges nor +allow his daughter to do so until we came, for reasons which their host +said he would tell them later, not being able to invent them on the +spur of the moment) it was with a phrase which seemed the echo of our +terror that Mme. Darzac greeted Rouletabille. As soon as she perceived +the young man, she rushed toward him and it seemed to us that she was +making a great effort not to throw her arms around him. I saw that her +spirit was clinging to him as a shipwrecked sailor grips at the hand +which is stretched out to save him from drowning. And I heard the words +that she whispered to him:</p> + +<p>“I know that I am going mad!”</p> + +<p>As to Rouletabille, I may have seen his face as pale before, but I had +never seen it look like that of a man stricken with his death blow.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br> +THE FORT OF HERCULES</h2> +</div> + + +<p>When he alights at the Garavan station, whatever may be the season +of the year in which he visits that enchanted country, the traveler +might almost fancy himself in the Garden of Hesperides whose golden +apples excited the desire of the conqueror of the Nemæan lion. I might +not perhaps, however, have recalled to mind the son of Jupiter and +Alcmene merely because of the numerous lemon and orange trees which in +the balmy air let their ripened fruit hang heavily on their boughs if +everything about the scene had not spoken of his mythological glories +and his fabled promenade upon these fair shores. You remember how the +Phœnicians in transporting their penates to the shadow of the rocks +which were one day to become the abode of the Grimaldi, gave to the +little port in which they anchored and to other natural features all +along the shore—a mountain, a cape, and an islet—the name of Hercules +whom they looked upon as their god—the name which they have always +retained. But I like to fancy that the Phœnicians found the name here +already, and indeed, if the divinities, fatigued by the white dust +of the roads of Hellas, went to seek for a marvellous spot, warm and +perfumed, to rest after their strenuous adventures, they could not have +found a more beautiful scene. The gods, to my mind, were the first +tourists of the Riviera. The Garden of the Hesperides was nowhere else +and Hercules had made the place ready for his Olympian comrades by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span> +destroying the evil dragon with an hundred heads who wanted to keep the +azure shore for himself, all alone. And I am not at all certain that +the bones of the ancient elephant discovered a few years ago in the +neighborhood of Rochers Rouges were not those of the dragon himself!</p> + +<p>When, after alighting from the train, we came in silence to the bank +of the sea, our eyes were immediately struck by a dazzling silhouette +of a castle standing upon the peninsula of Hercules, which the works +accomplished on the frontier have, alas, nearly destroyed. The oblique +rays of the sun which were falling upon the walls and the old Square +Tower made the reflection of the tower glisten in the waters like a +breastplate. The tower seemed to stand guard like an old sentinel, over +the Bay of Garavan which lay before us like a blue lake of fire. And +as we advanced nearer, the tower gleaming in the water seemed to grow +longer. The sky behind us leaned toward the crest of the mountains; the +promontories to the west were already wrapped in clouds at the approach +of night and by the time we crossed the threshold of the actual +structure the castle in the water was only a menacing shade.</p> + +<p>Upon the lower steps of the stairway which led up to one of the towers, +we beheld a slender, charming figure. It was Arthur Rance’s wife, who +had been the beautiful and brilliant Edith Prescott. Certainly the +Bride of Lammermoor was not more pale on the day when the black-eyed +stranger from Ravenswood first crossed her path, O Edith! Ah, when one +wishes to present a romantic figure in a mediæval frame, the figure +of a princess, lost in dreams, plaintive and melancholy, one should +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> +not have such eyes, my lady! And your hair was as black as the raven’s +wing. Such coloring is not of the kind which one is used to attribute +to the angels. Are you an angel, Edith? Is this gentle, plaintive +little manner natural or acquired? Is the sweet expression that your +face wears to-day an entirely truthful one? Pardon that I ask you all +these questions, Edith; but when I beheld you for the first time, +after having been entranced by the delicate harmony of your white +figure, standing motionless upon the stone stair, I followed the quick, +lowering glance of your dark eyes in the direction of the daughter of +Professor Stangerson, and it had a cruel look which accorded ill with +the sweet tones of your voice and the bright smile on your lips.</p> + +<p>The voice of the young wife was her greatest charm although the grace +of her entire being was perfect. At the introductions which were, +of course, performed by her husband, she greeted us in the simplest +and sweetest fashion imaginable—the fashion of the ideal hostess. +Rouletabille and myself made an effort to tell her that we had intended +to look for a stopping place in the village instead of trespassing +upon her hospitality. She made a delicious little grimace, lifted her +shoulders with a gesture that was almost childish, said that our rooms +were all ready for us and changed the subject.</p> + +<p>“Come, come! You haven’t seen the château. You must see it—all of you. +Oh, I will show you ‘la Louve’ another time. It is the only gloomy +corner in the place. It is horrible—so cold and dismal. It makes me +shiver. But, do you know I love to shiver! Oh, M. Rouletabille, you’ll +tell me stories that will make me shiver some day, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>And chattering thus, she glided in front of us in her white gown. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span> +She walked like an actress. She made a singularly pretty picture in +this garden of the Orient, between the threatening old tower and the +carved stone flowers of the ruined chapel. The vast court which we were +crossing was so completely covered on every side with grass, shrubs and +foliage plants, with cactus and aloes, mountain laurel, wild roses and +marguerites that one might have sworn that an eternal spring had found +its habitation in this enclosure, formerly the drilling ground of the +château when the soldiers assembled in time of war. This court, through +the help of the winds of heaven and the neglect of man had naturally +become a garden, a beautiful wild garden in which one saw that the +chatelaine had interfered as little as possible and which she had in no +way attempted to restore to the beaten track. Behind all this verdure +and this wealth of bloom one could see the most exquisite sight which +could be imagined in dead architecture. Figure to yourself the perfect +arches of gothic brought up to the doors of the old Roman chapel; the +pillars twined with climbing plants, rose geranium and vervain uniting +their sweet perfume and raising to the azure heavens their broken +arch, which nothing seems to support. There is no longer a roof on the +chapel. And there are no more walls. There remains of it only the bit +of lace work in stone, which a miracle of equilibrium keeps suspended +in the air.</p> + +<p>And at our left is the immense tower of the Twelfth Century, +which, Mme. Edith tells us, the natives call “la Louve” and which +nothing—neither time, nor man, nor peace, nor war, nor cannon, nor +tempest has ever been able to destroy. It is just as it appeared in +1107, when the Saracens, who sowed devastation in their wake, were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span> +able to make no headway in their attacks upon the château of +Hercules,—just as it was seen by Salageri and his corsairs of Genoa, +when, after they had seized the fort and the Square Tower and even the +castle itself, it resisted attack and its defenders held it until the +arrival of the troops of the Princes of Provence, who delivered them. +It was there that Mme. Edith had chosen to have her own rooms.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_003" style="width: 1100px;"> +<img src="images/i_003.jpg" width="1100" height="1405" alt="A hand-drawn map is a schematic representation of a fortress with labeled structures and sections. The fort has multiple gates, towers, and buildings, with distinct labels for each. The plan gives the impression of a historical military stronghold."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>The Plan of the Fort of Hercules.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>But while she spoke to us in her sweet, clear voice, I stopped looking +at the objects around us to look at the people. Arthur Rance was gazing +at Mme. Darzac, when my eyes fell upon them, and Rouletabille seemed +to be lost in thought, and far, far away from us all. M. Darzac and +M. Stangerson were talking in low tones. The same thought was filling +the minds of each one of these people—both those who kept silence and +those who, if they spoke, were careful to say nothing which could give +a clue to the thoughts. We reached the postern.</p> + +<p>“This is what we call the Gardener’s Tower,” said Edith, childishly. +“From this gate one may see all the fort, and all the castle, both +north and south. See!”</p> + +<p>And she stretched her arms wide to emphasize her words.</p> + +<p>“Every stone has its history. I’ll tell them to you some day, if you +are good.”</p> + +<p>“How gay Edith is!” murmured her husband. I thought to myself that she +was the only one who was gay in the party.</p> + +<p>We had passed through the postern and found ourselves in another +court. Opposite us was the old donjon. Its appearance was more than +impressive. It was high and square, and it was on account of its shape +that it was known as the Square Tower. And, as this tower occupies +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span> +the most important corner of the fortification, it was also known as +the Corner Tower. It was the most extraordinary and the most important +part of this agglomeration of defensive works. The walls were heavier +and higher than those anywhere else, and half way up they were still +sealed with the Roman cement with which Cæsar’s own columns had welded +together the stones.</p> + +<p>“That tower yonder, in the opposite corner,” went on Edith, “is the +Tower of Charles the Bold, so called because he was the Duke who +furnished the plans when it became necessary to transform the defenses +of the château, so as to make them resist the attacks of the artillery. +Don’t you think I am very learned? Old Bob has made this tower his +study. It is too bad, for we might have a magnificent dining hall +there. But I have never been able to refuse old Bob anything he wanted. +Old Bob,” she added, with a charming smile, “is my uncle—that is the +name he taught me to call him by when I was a little thing. He is not +here just now. He went to Paris on the five o’clock train, but he +will be back to-morrow. He is going to compare some of the anatomical +specimens which he found at Rochers Rouges with those in the Museum of +Natural History in Paris. Ah—here is an oubliette!”</p> + +<p>And she showed us in the centre part of the second court a small +shaft, which she called, romantically, an oubliette, and above which a +eucalyptus tree, with its white blossoms and its leafless limbs, leaned +like a woman over a fountain.</p> + +<p>Since we had entered the second court, we understood better—or at +least I did, for Rouletabille, every moment more deeply lost in his own +thoughts, seemed neither to see nor to hear—the topographical plan of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> +the Fort of Hercules. As this plan is of the greatest importance in the +proper understanding of the incredible events which were to occur so +soon after our arrival at Rochers Rouges, I shall place at once before +the eyes of the reader the general scheme of the buildings as it was +traced later by Rouletabille and myself.</p> + +<p>The castle had been built in 1140 by the Seigneurs of Mortola. In order +to isolate it completely from the land, they had not hesitated to make +an island of the peninsula by cutting away the narrow isthmus which +connected it with the mainland. Upon the mainland itself, they had +built a barricade in the form of a semicircular fortification, designed +to protect the approaches to the drawbridge and the two entrance +towers. Not a trace of this fortification was left. And the isthmus, +in the course of the centuries, had again resumed its old form, the +drawbridge had been thrown down and the trenches had filled up. The +walls of the Château of Hercules followed the outline of the peninsula, +which was that of an irregular hexagon. The walls were built upon the +rocks, and the latter, in some places, extended over the waters in such +a manner that a little ship might have taken shelter beneath them, +fearing no enemy, while it was protected by this natural ceiling. This +design of building was marvellously well adapted for defense, and gave +the inmates of the fortress little reason to fear an attack, no matter +from what quarter it might come.</p> + +<p>The fort was entered by way of the north gate, which guarded the two +towers, A and A′, connected by a passageway. These towers which had +suffered greatly during the last sieges of the Genoese, had been +repaired to some slight extent some time afterward, and had, shortly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> +before we came to Rochers Rouges, been made habitable by Mrs. +Rance,who used them as servants’ quarters. The front of the tower +A served as the keeper’s lodge. A little door opened in the side +of the tower upon the passageway, and enabled anyone looking out +to observe all those who came or went. A heavy double door of oak, +with bands of iron, was no longer in use, its twin portals having +stood for uncounted years open against the inner walls of the two +towers, on account of the difficulty which had been experienced in +managing them; and the entrance to the castle was only closed by a +little gate, which anyone might open at will. This entrance was the +only one by which it was possible to get into the château. As I have +said, in passing through this gate, one found himself in the first +court, closed in on all sides by the walls and the towers. These +walls were by no means as high as when they were built. The old +high courtyards which connected the towers had been razed to the +ground and replaced by a sort of circular boulevard, from which +one mounted toward the first court by means of a little terrace. +The boulevards were still crowned by a parapet. For the changes +which I have described took place in the Fifteenth Century, at +the time when every lord of the manor was obliged to consider +the possibility of being obliged to meet an attack of artillery. +As to the towers B, B′ and B″, which had for a considerable time +longer preserved their uniformity and their first height, and the +pointed roofs of which had been replaced by a platform designed +to support the artillery, they had later been razed to the height +of the boulevard parapets, and their shape seemed almost like that of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span> +a half moon. These alterations had taken place in the Seventeenth +Century, at the time of the construction of a modern castle, still +known as the New Castle, although it had been in ruins for years when +we first saw it. The New Castle on the plan is at C C′.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_004" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_004.jpg" width="1000" height="665" alt="The architecture of fortress-like a structure on a coastal outcrop features medieval-style towers, fortified walls, and a large rectangular keep. The structure is surrounded by water, with rocks forming a natural barrier along the perimeter."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>The Fort of Hercules.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Upon the flat platform roofs of these old towers—roofs which were +surrounded by a parapet—palm trees had been planted, which had thriven +ill, swept as they were by the sea winds and burned by the sun. When +one leaned over the circular parapet which surrounded the whole domain, +it seemed to him as though the château were still as completely closed +in as it was in the days when the courtyards reached to the second +stories of the old towers. “La Louve,” as I have said, had not been +changed at all, but still reared its dark hulk against the blue waters +of the Mediterranean, a strange, weird figure, looking thousands of +years old. I have spoken also of the ruins of the chapel. The ancient +commons (shown on the map by W), near the parapet between B and B′, had +been transformed into the stables and the kitchens.</p> + +<p>I am describing now all the anterior portion of the Château of +Hercules. One could only penetrate into the second enclosure through +the postern (indicated by H), which Mrs. Arthur Rance called “the tower +of the gardener,” and which was actually only a pavilion, formerly +defended by the tower B″, and by another tower situated at C, and which +had entirely disappeared at the time of the erection of the New Castle +(shown at C C′). A moat and a wall started from B″ to abut on I at the +Tower of Charles the Bold, advancing at C in the form of a spur to the +midst of the first court, and entirely isolating the court, which they +completely closed in. The moat still exists, wide and deep, but the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> +walls had been torn down all the length of the New Castle and replaced +by the walls of the castle itself. A central door at D, now condemned, +opened upon a bridge, which had been thrown over the moat, and which +formerly permitted direct communication with the outer court. But this +bridge had been torn down or was swallowed up in the waters, and as the +windows of the castle, rising high above the moat, were still guarded +by their heavy iron bars, one might readily believe that the inner +court still remained as impenetrable as when it was entirely shut in by +its enclosing walls at the time when the New Castle did not exist.</p> + +<p>The pavement of the inner court—the Court of Charles the Bold, as +the old guide books of the country call it still—was a little higher +than that of the outer court. The rocks formed there a very high seat, +a natural pedestal of that colossal black column, the Old Castle, +standing square and erect, as though it had been carved from a single +block of stone, stretching its awesome shadow over the blue waters. One +could only penetrate into the Old Castle (designated by F) by a little +door, K. The old inhabitants of the country never spoke of it except as +the Square Tower, to distinguish it from the Round Tower, or the Tower +of Charles the Bold, as they sometimes called the latter. A parapet +similar to the one which closed in the outer court was built between +the towers B″, F and L, closing the inner court as firmly as the outer.</p> + +<p>We have seen that the Round Tower had been in years past torn down to +half its former height, as it had been built by the Mortola, according +to plans drawn by Charles the Bold himself, to whom the Seigneur +had been of some service in the Helvetian war. This tower had a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span> +number of tiny chambers above, and an immense octagon chamber below. +One descended into this chamber by a steep and narrow stairway. The +ceiling of the octagon room was supported by four great cylindrical +pillars, and from its walls opened three enormous embrasures for three +enormous cannons. It was of this room that Mme. Edith had wished to +make a dining room, for it was in an admirable state of preservation, +on account of the thickness of the walls, and the light could still +penetrate through the great windows, which had been enlarged and made +square, although they, too, were still guarded by barriers of iron. +This tower (shown on the map at L) was the spot chosen by Mme. Edith’s +uncle for a workshop, and the abiding place of his collection. Its roof +was a beautiful little garden, to which the mistress of the domain had +had transported fertile soil and wonderful plants and flowers. I have +marked upon the map in gray all the portions of the buildings which +Mme. Edith had restored, improved and put in shape for habitation.</p> + +<p>Of the château of the Seventeenth Century, known as the New Castle, +they had only repaired two bed chambers on the first floor and a little +sitting room for guests. It was to these that Rouletabille and myself +were assigned, while M. and Mme. Robert Darzac were lodged in the +Square Tower, of which I shall have to give a more special description.</p> + +<p>Two rooms, the windows of which opened upon the balcony, were reserved +in this Square Tower for “Old Bob,” who slept there. M. Stangerson was +upon the first floor of “la Louve,” in the rear of the suite occupied +by the Rances.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span></p> + +<p>Mme. Edith herself showed us to our rooms. She made us cross over +the sunken ceilings of ruined apartments, over broken railings and +tumble-down walls; but here and there some mouldy hangings, a broken +statue or a ragged bit of tapestry, bore witness to the ancient +splendors of the New Castle, born of the fantasies of some Mortola of +the wonderful Seventeenth Century. But when we reached them, our little +rooms recalled to us nothing of that magnificent past. They had been +swept and garnished with a care that was almost touching. Clean and +hygienic, without carpets, hangings or upholstered chairs, furnished +in the simplest of modern styles, they pleased us very much. As I have +already said, the two sleeping rooms were separated by a little parlor.</p> + +<p>As I tied my cravat, after dressing for dinner, I called Rouletabille +to ask him if he were ready. There was no answer. I went into his room +and discovered with surprise that he had already gone out. I went +to the window of his room, which opened like my own upon the court +of Charles the Bold. The court was empty, inhabited only by a large +eucalyptus, the fragrance of which mounted to my nostrils. Above the +parapet of the boulevard I saw the vast stretch of the silent waters. +The blue of the sea had grown dark at the fall of evening, and the +shades of night were visible on the horizon of the Italian shore, +reaching already to the pointe d’Ospedaletti. Not a sound, not a +breath on the land or in the heavens! I have never yet noticed such a +silence and such a complete repose of nature except at the moment which +precedes the most violent storms and the unchaining of the elements. +But now I felt that we had nothing of the sort to fear. The whole +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span> +appearance of the night was of the calmest, most serene beauty——</p> + +<p>But what was that dark shadow? From whence had come that spectre +which glided over the waters? Standing erect at the prow of a little +boat which a fisherman was rowing, keeping rhythmic time with the two +oars, I recognized the form of Larsan. Why should I try to deceive +myself by saying even for one moment that I was wrong? He was only too +easily to be recognized. And if those who beheld him should have had +the slightest doubt as to his identity, he seemed to desire to set +it entirely at rest by this open display of himself, utterly without +disguise, as entirely convincing as though he had shouted aloud, “It is +I!”</p> + +<p>Oh, yes! it was he! It was “the great Fred,” as we used to call him +when we looked upon him only as the wonderfully resourceful and +brilliant Secret Service agent. The boat, silent, with its motionless +statue at the prow, rowed completely around the peninsula. It passed +beneath the windows of the Square Tower and then directed its course +to the shores of the Pointe de Garibaldi. And the man still stood +erect, his arms folded, his face turned toward the tower, a diabolical +apparition on the threshold of the night, which slowly crept up behind +him, enveloped him in its shades and carried him away.</p> + +<p>When he had vanished, I lowered my eyes and beheld two figures in the +court of Charles the Bold. They were at the corner of the railing +near the little door of the Square Tower. One of these forms—the +taller—was supporting the other and speaking in tones of entreaty. The +smaller attempted to break away—one would have said that it wished to +throw itself into the sea. And I heard the voice of Mme. Darzac say:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span></p> + +<p>“Be careful. It is a gage of defiance which he has thrown down. You +shall not leave me this evening.”</p> + +<p>And then came Rouletabille’s voice answering:</p> + +<p>“He must land upon the bank! Let me hurry to the bank.”</p> + +<p>“What will you do there?” moaned Mathilde.</p> + +<p>“Whatever may be necessary.”</p> + +<p>And then Mathilde spoke again, and her voice was terrible to hear.</p> + +<p>“I forbid you to touch that man!”</p> + +<p>And I heard no more.</p> + +<p>I descended to the court, where I found Rouletabille alone, seated upon +the edge of the oubliette. I spoke to him, but he did not answer. I +felt no surprise, for this had often happened of late. I went on into +the outer court, and I saw M. Darzac coming toward me, evidently in the +greatest excitement. Before I came up to him, he called out:</p> + +<p>“Did you see him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I saw him,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“And she—my wife—do you know whether she saw him?”</p> + +<p>“She saw him, too. She was with Rouletabille when he passed. What +bravado the creature showed!”</p> + +<p>Robert Darzac was trembling like an aspen leaf from the shock which he +had just experienced. He told me that as soon as he had caught sight of +the boat and its passenger, he had rushed like a madman to the shore, +but that before he had reached the Pointe de Garibaldi the bark had +disappeared as if by enchantment. But even before he finished speaking, +Darzac left me and hurried away to seek Mathilde, dreading the thought +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span> +of the state of mind in which he felt that he would find her. But he +returned almost immediately, gloomy and grieved. The door of his wife’s +apartment was locked, and she had said to him that she wished to be +alone for awhile.</p> + +<p>“And Rouletabille?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“I have not seen him.”</p> + +<p>We remained together upon the rampart gazing at the night which had +carried Larsan away. Robert Darzac was infinitely sorrowful. In order +to change the direction of his thoughts, I asked him a few questions +regarding the Rance household. Here is in substance the information +which I succeeded in extracting from him little by little:</p> + +<p>After the trial at Versailles, Arthur Rance had returned to +Philadelphia, and there, one evening, at a family dinner party, he had +found himself seated beside a charming young girl, who had interested +him at once by a display of interest in literature and art, the +like of which he had not often seen in his beautiful countrywomen. +She was not in the least like the quick, independent and audacious +type of young women who are often found in America, nor was she of +the “Fluffy Ruffles” variety, so much in favor at present. Somewhat +haughty in mien, yet gentle and melancholy, she at once recalled to +the young man the heroines of Walter Scott, who he soon learned was +her favorite author. From the first, she attracted him strongly. How +could this delicate little creature so quickly have impressed Arthur +Rance, who had been madly in love with the majestic Mathilde? Of such +are the mysteries of the heart. Now, fortunately or unfortunately, +as you prefer, Arthur Rance had upon that evening so far forgotten +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span> +himself as to drink considerably more wine than was good for him. He +never realized what his offense had been, but he knew that he must +have committed some frightful blunder or breach of politeness, when +Miss Edith in a low voice and with heightened color, requested him not +to address her again. Upon the morrow, Arthur Rance went to call on +the young lady and entreated her pardon, swearing that he would never +permit wine to pass his lips again.</p> + +<p>Arthur Rance had already known for some time Miss Prescott’s uncle, +the fine old man who still bore among his friends the nickname of “Old +Bob,” which had been given him in his college days, and who was as +celebrated for his adventures as an explorer as for his discoveries as +a geologist. He seemed as gentle as a sheep, but he had hunted many +a tiger through the pampas of South America. He had spent half his +life south of the Rio Negro among the Patagonians, in seeking for the +man of the tertiary period—or, at least, for his fossils, not as the +anthropological relic or some other pithecanthropus, approaching in +a greater or less extent the race of monkeys, but as the real living +man, stronger, more powerful, than those who inhabit this planet in our +own day—the man, to speak clearly, who must have been contemporaneous +with the immense mammoths and mastodons, which appeared upon the +globe before the quarternary epoch. He generally returned from these +expeditions with closely filled notebooks and a respectable collection +of tibias and femurs, which may or may not have belonged to the +aboriginal man, and also with a rich display of skins of wild beasts, +which showed that the spectacled old savant knew how to use more +modern arms than the stone ax and bow and arrow. As soon as he was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span> +back in Philadelphia, he would dispose of his treasures either in his +private cabinets or in those of the Museum, and, opening his notebooks, +would resume his lectures, amusing himself as he talked by making the +splinters from the long pencils, which he was always sharpening but had +never been seen to use, fly almost into the eyes of the students on the +front benches.</p> + +<p>All these details were given me later by Arthur Rance himself. He had +been one of “Old Bob’s” pupils, but had not seen him in many years +until he made the acquaintance of Miss Edith. If I have seemed to +dwell too minutely on such apparently unimportant things, I have done +so because, by quite a natural train of events, we were to make “Old +Bob’s” acquaintance at Rochers Rouges.</p> + +<p>Miss Edith, upon the occasion when Arthur Rance had been presented to +her and had forgotten himself on account of overindulgence in wine, had +seemed somewhat more melancholy than she usually was, because she had +received disquieting news of her uncle. The latter for four years back +had been absent on a trip to Patagonia. In his last letter, he had told +his niece that he was ill, and that he feared that he should not live +to see her again. One might be tempted to wonder why so tender-hearted +a niece, under such circumstances, had not refrained from attending a +dinner, no matter how quiet, but Miss Edith, during her uncle’s many +absences from home, had so frequently received such communications from +him and had afterward seen him return in such perfect health that she +could scarcely be blamed for not having remained at home to mourn that +evening. Three months later, however, having received another letter, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span> +she suddenly resolved to go all alone to South America and join her +uncle. During those three months important events had transpired. Miss +Edith had been touched by the remorse of Arthur Rance, and when Miss +Prescott departed for Patagonia, no one was astonished to find that +“Old Bob’s” old pupil was going to accompany her. If the engagement was +not officially announced, it was because the pair preferred to wait for +the consent of the geologist. Miss Edith and Arthur Rance were met at +St. Louis by the young woman’s uncle. He was in excellent health and in +a charming humor. Rance, who had not seen him in years, declared to him +that he had grown younger—the easiest of compliments to pay and the +pleasantest to receive. When his niece informed him of her engagement +to this fine young fellow, the uncle manifested the greatest delight. +The three returned to Philadelphia, where the wedding took place. +Miss Edith had never been in France, and Arthur determined that their +honeymoon should be spent there. And it was thus that they found, as +will be told a little later, a scientific reason for locating in the +neighborhood of Mentone, not exactly in France, but an hundred meters +from the frontier, in Italy, at Rochers Rouges.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>The gong had sounded for dinner, and Arthur Rance was coming to look +for us, so we repaired to “la Louve,” in the lower hall of which we +were to dine. When we were all assembled (save “Old Bob,” who, as has +been mentioned, was absent), Mme. Edith asked whether any of us had +noticed a little boat which had made the circle of the fortress, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> +in which a man was standing erect. The man’s strange attitude had +struck her, she said. No one replied, and she added:</p> + +<p>“Oh, I know who it is, for I know the fisherman who rowed the boat. He +is a great friend of Old Bob.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, then you know the fisherman, madame?” asked Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“He comes to the castle sometimes to sell fish. The people around the +village have given him an odd name, which I don’t know how to say in +their impossible patois, but I can translate it. They call him, ‘the +hangman of the sea.’ A pretty name, isn’t it?”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br> +WHICH TELLS OF SOME PRECAUTIONS TAKEN BY JOSEPH ROULETABILLE TO DEFEND +THE FORT OF HERCULES AGAINST THE ATTACK OF AN ENEMY</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Rouletabille had not even the politeness to inquire into the +explanation of this amazing sobriquet. He appeared to be plunged in the +deepest meditation. A strange dinner! a strange castle! strange guests! +All the graces and coquetries of Mme. Edith had no effect in awakening +us to any semblance of life. There were two newly married pairs, four +lovers, who ought to have been radiant with the joy of life, and to +have made the hours pass gayly and happily. But the repast was one +of the most gloomy at which I have ever been present. The spectre of +Larsan hovered about our festivities, and it seemed almost as though +the man whom we knew to be so near was actually among us.</p> + +<p>It is as well to say here that Professor Stangerson, since he had +learned the cruel, the miserable truth, had not for one moment been +able to free himself from the thought of it. I do not think that I +am saying too much in declaring that the first victim of the affair +at the Glandier, and the most unfortunate of all, was this good old +man. He had lost everything—his faith in science, his love of work, +and—more bitter than all the rest—his belief in his daughter. His +faith in her had been his religion. She had been such an object of +joy and pride. He had thought of her for so many years as a vestal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> +virgin, seeking, with him, the unknown in the world of higher things. +He had been so marvellously dazzled with the thought of her angelic +purity, and had believed that her reason for having remained unmarried +was that she was unwilling to resign herself to any life which would +withdraw her from science and her father, to both of which she had +dedicated her existence. And while he was thinking of her almost with +reverence, he discovered that the reason that his daughter refused to +marry was because she was already the wife of Ballmeyer. The day in +which Mathilde had decided to confess everything to her father, and +to tell him the story of the past, which must clear up the present +with a tragic light to the eyes of the professor, already warned by +the mysteries of the Glandier—the day when, falling at his feet and +embracing his knees, she had told him the story of her youth, Professor +Stangerson had raised the form of his beloved child from the ground +and had pressed her to his heart; he had placed a kiss of pardon on +her brow; he had mingled his tears with the sobs of her whose fault +had been so bitterly expiated, and he had sworn to her that she had +never been more precious than since he had known how she had suffered. +And by these words, she was a little comforted. But he, when she left +his presence, was another man—a man alone, all alone——. Professor +Stangerson had lost his daughter and his goddess.</p> + +<p>He had experienced only indifference in regard to her marriage to +Robert Darzac, although the latter had been the best beloved of his +pupils. In vain Mathilde, with the warmest tenderness, had endeavored +to rekindle the old feeling in the heart of her father. She knew well +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span> +that he had changed toward her, that his glance never dwelt upon her +in the old fond way, and that his weary eyes were looking back into +the past at an image which he had only dreamed was her own. And she +knew, too, that when those eyes rested upon her—upon her, Mathilde +Darzac—it was to see at her side, not the honored figure of a good +man and tender husband, but the shadow, eternally living, eternally +infamous, of the other—the man who had stolen his daughter. The +Professor could work no longer. The great secret of the dissolution of +matter which he had promised to reveal to mankind, had returned to the +unknown from which, for a moment, the scientist had drawn it, and men +will go on, repeating for centuries to come the imbecile phrase, “From +nothing, nothing.”</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>The evening meal was rendered still more doleful by the setting in +which it was served—the sombre hall, lighted by a gothic lamp, with +old candelabra of wrought iron, and the walls of the fortress adorned +with oriental tapestries, against which were ranged the old suits of +armor dating back to the first Saracen invasion and the sieges of +Dagobert.</p> + +<p>I looked at the members of the party, and it seemed to me that I was +able to see reason enough for the general sadness. M. and Mme. Darzac +were seated beside each other. The mistress of the house had evidently +not desired to separate a bridal pair, whose union only dated back to +yesterday. Of the two, I must say that the more unhappy looking was, +beyond a doubt, our friend, Robert. He never spoke one word. Mme. +Darzac joined to some extent in the conversation, exchanging now and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span> +then a few commonplaces with Arthur Rance. Is it necessary for me +to add that at this time, after the scene between Rouletabille and +Mathilde, which I had witnessed from my window, I expected to see her +in a most wretched state—almost overcome by the vision of Larsan, +which had surged up in front of her eyes? But no: on the contrary, I +discovered a remarkable difference between the terrified aspect with +which she had approached us at the station, for instance, and the +easy, composed manner which was hers, at present. One would have said +that she had been relieved by the sight of the apparition, and when I +expressed my opinion to Rouletabille later in the evening, I discovered +that he shared it, and he explained the reason for Mathilde’s change +of manner in the simplest possible fashion. The unhappy woman had +dreaded nothing so much as the thought that she was going mad, and +the certainty that she had not been the victim of a mental delusion, +cruel as that certainty was, had served to make her a little more calm. +She preferred to fight even against the living Larsan than against a +phantom. In the first interview which she had had with Rouletabille in +the Square Tower, while I was dressing for dinner, she had, my young +friend told me, been completely possessed by the dread that insanity +was coming upon her. Rouletabille, in telling me of this interview, +acknowledged to me that he had taken altogether different means to +calm Mathilde from those which Robert Darzac had employed—that is, +he made no effort to conceal from her that her eyes had seen clearly +and had seen Frederic Larsan. When she was told that Robert Darzac had +only denied the truth to her because he feared for its effect upon +her, and that he had been the first to telegraph to Rouletabille to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span> +come to their aid, she heaved a sigh so long and so deep that it was +almost a sob. She took Rouletabille’s hands in her own and covered +them with kisses, just as a mother kisses the hands of her little +child. Evidently she was instinctively drawn toward the youth by all +the mysterious forces of maternal affection, in spite of the fact that +she had every reason to believe that her child had died years before. +It was just at this point that the two had first noticed through the +window of the tower the form of Frederic Larsan, standing erect in +the boat. At first, both had remained, stupefied, motionless and mute +at the sight. Then a cry of rage escaped from the agonized heart of +Rouletabille, and he longed to pursue the man and reckon with him, face +to face. I have told how Mathilde held him back, clinging to him upon +the parapet. In her mind, apparently, horrible as was this resurrection +of Larsan, it was less horrible than the continual and supernatural +resurrection of a Larsan who had no existence save in her own diseased +brain. She no longer saw Larsan everywhere around her. She saw him in +the flesh, as he was.</p> + +<p>At one moment trembling with nervousness, the next gentle and composed, +now patient and in another instant impatient, Mathilde, even while +conversing with Arthur Rance, showed for her husband the most charming +and sweetest solicitude imaginable. She was attentive to him at every +moment, serving him herself, and smiling gently at him as she did +so, watching him carefully, to be sure that he was not overtired and +that the light did not strike too near his eyes. Robert thanked her +for her cares, but seemed none the less frightfully unhappy. And his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span> +demeanor compelled me to recollect the fact that the resuscitation of +Larsan would undoubtedly recall to Mme. Darzac that before she was Mme. +Darzac, she had been Mme. Jean Roussel Ballmeyer Larsan before God and +herself, and even, so far as the transatlantic laws are concerned, +before men as well.</p> + +<p>If the design of Larsan in showing himself had been to deal a frightful +blow to a happiness which had yet scarcely begun, he had completely +succeeded. And, perhaps, as the historian of all parts of this strange +affair, I ought to mention the fact that Mathilde had given Robert +Darzac at once to understand that she did not regard herself as his +wife, since the man to whom she had pledged herself in her early +girlhood was still living. I have said that Mathilde Stangerson had +been brought up in a very religious manner, not by her father, who +cared little for such things, but by her female relatives, especially +her old aunt in Cincinnati. The scientific studies which she had +pursued with her father had in no wise impaired her faith, while +the latter had taken care never to speak against religion to his +daughter. She had preserved it, even in the deepest researches into +the professor’s theory of the creation. She said to him that no matter +how plausibly he might prove that everything came from nothingness, +that is to say, from the atmosphere, and returned to nothingness in the +end, it remained to prove that that nothing, originating from nothing, +had not been created by God. And, as she was a good Catholic, she +believed that the Vicar of Christ on earth was the Pope. I might have +perhaps passed over these religious beliefs of Mathilde in silence, if +they had not had so strong an influence on the resolution which she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span> +had taken in regard to her second husband, when she discovered that +her first husband was still alive. It had seemed to her that Larsan’s +death had been proven beyond the slightest doubt, and she had gone to +her new husband as a widow with the approval of her confessor. And +now she learned that in the sight of Heaven, she was not a widow, +but a bigamist! But, at all events, the catastrophe might not be +irremediable, and she herself proposed to poor M. Darzac that the +case should be propounded to the ecclesiastical courts of Rome for a +settlement as quickly as possible. Thus it was that M. and Mme. Robert +Darzac, forty-eight hours after their marriage in the Church of St. +Nicolas du Chardonnet, were separated by a gulf over which one could +not and the other would not pass. The reader will comprehend from +this brief explanation the mournful demeanor of Robert and the gentle +sweetness displayed toward him by Mathilde.</p> + +<p>Without being entirely conversant with all these details on the evening +of which I write, I nevertheless suspected most of them. Leaving the +Darzacs, my eyes wandered to the neighbor of Mme. Darzac, M. Arthur +William Rance, and my thoughts were taking a new turn, when they were +suddenly arrested by the butler’s coming to say that Bernier, the +concierge, requested to speak to M. Rouletabille. My friend arose, +excused himself, and left the room.</p> + +<p>“What!” I cried. “The Berniers are no longer at the Glandier?”</p> + +<p>Readers of “The Mystery of the Yellow Room” will recall that these +Berniers—the man and his wife—were the concierges of M. Stangerson +at Ste. Genevieve-des-Bois. I have told in that work how Rouletabille +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span> +had had them set at liberty when they were accused of complicity +in the attempt made at the pavilion de la Chenaie. Their gratitude +to the young reporter on this account had been of the greatest, +and Rouletabille had been ever since the object of their devotion. +M. Stangerson replied to my exclamation by informing me that all +the servants had left the Glandier at the time that he himself had +abandoned it. As the Rances had need of concierges for the Fort of +Hercules, the Professor had been glad to send them his faithful +domestics, of whom he had never had reason to complain except for +one slight infraction of the game laws, which had turned out most +unfortunately for them. Now they were lodged in one of the towers of +the postern, where they kept the gate, and from which they admitted +those who entered and dismissed those who wished to go out of the fort.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille had not appeared in the least astonished when the butler +announced that Bernier wished to say a word to him, and from that fact, +I drew the conclusion that he must be already aware of his presence at +Rochers Rouges. So I discovered, without being very greatly surprised +at it, that Rouletabille had made excellent use of the few minutes +during which I believed him to be in his room, and which I had given up +to my toilet and to chatting with M. Darzac.</p> + +<p>The unexpected exit of Rouletabille sent a chill to my heart and seemed +to spread a general sensation of alarm throughout the company. Every +one of us who was in the secret asked himself whether this summons +had not something to do with some important event connected with the +return of Larsan. Mme. Darzac was very restless. And because Mathilde +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span> +showed herself to be disturbed and nervous, I fancied that M. Arthur +Rance thought that it behooved him to display some little anxiety. And +it may be as well to say at this point that M. Arthur Rance and his +wife were not aware of the whole of the unfortunate story of Professor +Stangerson’s daughter. It had seemed useless to inform them of the +fact of Mathilde’s secret marriage to Jean Roussel, afterward known +as Larsan. That was something which concerned only the family. But +they were fully aware—Arthur Rance from having been mixed up in the +Glandier business, and his wife from what he had told her—of the way +in which the Secret Service agent had pursued the young woman who was +now Mme. Darzac. The crimes of Larsan were explained in the eyes of +Arthur Rance by a mad passion for Mathilde, and this was by no means +surprising to the young American who had been for so long in love +with her himself, and who perceived in all of Larsan’s acts merely +the indications of an insane and hopeless love. As to Mme. Edith, I +soon found out why the events which had transpired at the Glandier +had not seemed so simple to her when they were related to her as they +had to her husband. For her to share his opinions on the subject, it +would have been necessary for her to have seen Mathilde with eyes +as enthusiastic as those of Arthur Rance, and, on the contrary, her +thoughts (which I had good opportunities to read without her suspecting +it) ran about in this way: “But what on earth is there about this woman +which could inspire such an insane passion, lasting for years and years +in the heart of any man! Here is a woman for whose sake a detective +officer becomes a murderer; for whom a temperate man becomes a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span> +drunkard, and for whom an innocent man permits himself to be pronounced +guilty of a felony. What is there about her more than there is about +myself who owe my husband to the fact that she refused him before he +ever saw me? What is the charm about her? She isn’t even young. And yet +even now my husband forgets all about me while he is looking at her.” +That is what I read in Edith’s eyes as she watched her husband gazing +at Mathilde. Ah, those black eyes of the gentle, languid Mme. Edith!</p> + +<p>I am congratulating myself upon the explanations which I have made to +the reader. It is as well that he should know the sentiments which +dwelt in the heart of each one concerned at the moment when all were +about to have their own parts to play in the strange and awful drama +which was already drawing near in the shadow which enveloped the Fort +of Hercules. As yet, I have said nothing of Old Bob nor of Prince +Galitch, but, never fear, their turn will come! I have taken as a rule +in the narration of this affair to paint things and people as nearly as +possible as they appeared to me in the development of events. Thus the +reader will pass through all the phases of the tragedy as we ourselves +passed through them—anguish and peace, mysteries and their unraveling, +misunderstanding and comprehension. If the light breaks upon the mind +of the reader before the hour when it broke upon mine, so much the +better. As he will be conversant with the same circumstances, neither +more nor less, which came under our observation, he will prove to +himself if he solves the mystery before it is revealed to him, that he +possesses a brain worthy to rank with that of Rouletabille.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>We finished our repast without our young friend having reappeared, and +we arose from the table without having mentioned to each other any of +the thoughts which troubled us. Mathilde immediately asked me where +I thought Rouletabille had gone. As she left the dining room, and I +walked with her as far as the entrance to the fort; M. Darzac and Mme. +Edith followed us. M. Stangerson had bidden us good-night. Arthur +Rance, who had disappeared for a moment, joined us while we were at the +passageway. The night was clear and the moon shone brightly. Someone +had lighted the lanterns in the archway, however, in spite of the fact +that their rays were not needed for seeing. As we passed beneath the +arch, we heard Rouletabille speaking, as though he were encouraging +those whom he addressed.</p> + +<p>“Come on! One more effort!” he cried, and the voice which answered him +was husky and panting, like that of a sailor who was working with his +fellows to bring his bark into port. Finally, a great tumult filled +our ears. It was the two portals of the immense iron doors, which were +being closed for the first time in more than an hundred years.</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith looked astonished at the act of her guest, and asked what +had happened to the gate, which had always served in place of the doors +since she had been mistress of the place. But Arthur Rance caught her +arm, and she seemed to understand that he was impressing upon her that +she must keep silence. But that did not keep her from exclaiming in a +not-too-well pleased tone:</p> + +<p>“Really! Anyone would think that we expected to undergo a siege!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span></p> + +<p>But Rouletabille beckoned our group into the garden and announced to +us in a jesting tone that if any of us had any desire to make a trip +to the village, we must give it up for that evening, for the order +had gone forth and no one could leave the château or enter it. Pere +Jacques, he added, still pretending to jest, was charged with the +carrying out of the command, and everyone knew that it was impossible +to bribe the faithful old servitor. It was then that I learned for the +first time that Pere Jacques, whom I had known so well at the Glandier, +had accompanied Professor Stangerson on his visit and was acting as his +valet. That night he was sleeping in a tiny closet in “la Louve,” near +his master’s bed room, but Rouletabille had changed that, and it was +Pere Jacques who took the place of the concierges in the tower marked A.</p> + +<p>“But where are the Berniers?” cried Mme. Edith.</p> + +<p>“They are installed in the Square Tower, in the room on the left, near +the entrance; they are to act as caretakers of the Square Tower,” +replied Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“But the Square Tower doesn’t need any caretakers!” exclaimed Edith, +whose vexation was plainly visible.</p> + +<p>“That, Madame,” returned the young reporter, “is what we cannot be sure +of.”</p> + +<p>He made no further explanations, but he took M. Arthur Rance to +one side and informed him that he ought to tell his wife about the +reappearance of Larsan. If there was to be the slightest chance of +hiding the truth from M. Stangerson, it could scarcely be accomplished +without the aid and intelligence of Mme. Edith. And, then, too, +it would be as well, henceforward, for all of those in the Fort +of Hercules to be prepared for everything, <i>and surprised at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span> +nothing</i>!</p> + +<p>The next act of Rouletabille was to make us walk across the court and +place ourselves at the postern of the gardener. I have said that this +postern (H) commanded the entrance to the inner court; but at that +point the moat had been filled up a long time ago. Rouletabille, to our +amazement, declared that the next day he intended to have the moat dug +out and to replace the drawbridge. For the present, he busied himself +with ordering the postern to be closed more securely by the servants +of the château by means of a sort of fortification built from the +boards and bricks which had been used in the repairs of the château, +and which had not yet been taken away by the workmen. Thus the château +was barricaded and Rouletabille laughed softly to himself, for Mme. +Edith, having been apprised by her husband of the facts of the case, +made no further objection, but contented herself with smiling a little +contemptuously at the timidity of her guests, who were transforming the +old stronghold into an absolutely impenetrable spot, because they were +afraid of just one man—one man, all alone. But Mme. Edith did not know +what manner of man this was. She had not lived through the mysteries of +the yellow room.</p> + +<p>As to the others—Arthur Rance among them—they found it perfectly +natural and reasonable that Rouletabille should fortify the place +against that which was unknown and mysterious and invisible, and which +plotted in the night they knew not what against the Fort of Hercules.</p> + +<p>At the newly fortified postern, Rouletabille had stationed no one, for +he reserved that place that night for himself. From there he could +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> +obtain a complete view of both the inner and outer courts. It was a +strategic point which commanded a view of the whole château. One could +reach the apartment of the Darzacs only after passing by Pere Jacques +in A; by Rouletabille at H, and by the Berniers, who guarded the Square +Tower at the door marked K. The young man had decided that it would be +better for those on guard not to retire that night. As we passed by the +“oubliette” in the Court of Charles the Bold, I saw by the light of +the moon that someone had displaced the circular board which covered +it. I saw also on the margin a flask attached to a cord. Rouletabille +explained to me that he had wished to know if this old oubliette (which +was really nothing but a well) corresponded with the sea, and that +he had found that the water was clear and sweet—a proof that it had +nothing to do with the Mediterranean.</p> + +<p>The young man walked for a few steps with Mme. Darzac, who immediately +took leave of us and entered the Square Tower. M. Darzac and Arthur +Rance, at the request of Rouletabille, remained with us. Some words of +excuse addressed to Mme. Edith made her understand that she was being +politely asked to retire, and she bade us good-night with a nonchalant +grace, flinging the words, “Good-night, M. le Captain,” at Rouletabille +over her shoulder as she passed him.</p> + +<p>When we were alone, we men, Rouletabille beckoned us toward the postern +into the little room of the gardener, a dark, low-ceiled apartment, +where we were surprised to find how easily we could see anything that +passed near by without being seen ourselves. There, Arthur Rance, +Robert Darzac, Rouletabille and myself, without even lighting a lamp, +held our first council of war. In truth, I know not what other name +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span> +to give to this reunion of frightened men, hidden behind the stones of +this old fortress.</p> + +<p>“We may make our plans here in tranquillity,” began Rouletabille. +“No one can hear us, and we shall not be surprised by anyone. If any +person should attempt to pass the first gate which Jacques is guarding +without the old man’s seeing him, we shall be immediately warned by the +sentinel whom I have stationed in the very middle of the court, hidden +in the ruins of the chapel. I have placed your gardener, Mattoni, at +that point, M. Rance. I believe from what I have been told that you can +depend upon the man. Is not that your opinion?”</p> + +<p>I listened to Rouletabille with admiration. Mme. Edith was right. He +had indeed constituted himself a captain, and he had not left one +impregnable spot without defense, and had neglected nothing in his +cogitations. I felt certain that he would never surrender, no matter +on what terms, and that he would prefer death to capitulation, either +for himself or for any of the rest of us. What a brave little commander +he was! And, indeed, it seemed to me that he displayed more bravery in +undertaking the defense of the Fort of Hercules against Larsan than the +Lords of Mortola had shown in holding the castle against a thousand +of the enemy. For they had fought merely against shot and shell and +spears. And what had we to fight against? The darkness. Where was our +enemy? Everywhere and nowhere. We were able neither to see him, nor +to know his whereabouts, nor to guess his designs, nor to take the +offensive ourselves, ignorant as we were of where our blows might fall. +There remained for us only to be on guard, to shut ourselves in, to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span> +watch and to wait.</p> + +<p>M. Arthur Rance assured Rouletabille that he could answer for his +gardener, Mattoni, and our young man proceeded to explain to us in a +general fashion the situation. He lit his pipe, took three or four +puffs, and said:</p> + +<p>“Well, here we are. Can we hope that Larsan, after having so insolently +flaunted himself before us, at our very doors, in order to defy us, +will confine himself to such a platonic manifestation? Will he consider +that he has accomplished enough in bringing trouble, terror and +consternation among the members of the besieged party in the garrison? +And content with what he has done, will he go away? I hardly think so. +First, because such a thing would be foreign to his character—for he +loves a fight, and is never satisfied with a partial success; and, +secondly, because no one of us has the power to drive him off. Consider +that he can do anything that he will to injure us, but that we can make +no move against him save to defend ourselves if he strikes, provided we +are able when it may suit him to do so. We have, of course, no hope of +any help from outside. And he knows it well; that is what makes him so +bold and audacious. Whom can we call to our aid?”</p> + +<p>“The authorities,” suggested Arthur Rance. He spoke with some +hesitation, for he felt that if this plan had not been entertained by +Rouletabille, there must be some reason for it.</p> + +<p>The young reporter looked at his host with an air of pity, which was +not entirely free from reproach. And he said in a chilly tone, which +showed plainly to Arthur Rance how little value there was in his +proposition:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span></p> + +<p>“You ought to understand, Monsieur, that I did not save Larsan from +French justice at Versailles to deliver him over to Italian justice at +Rochers Rouges.”</p> + +<p>M. Arthur Rance, who was, as I have said, ignorant of the first +marriage of Professor Stangerson’s daughter, could not understand, +as did the rest of us, the impossibility of revealing the existence +of Larsan without stirring up (especially after the ceremony at St. +Nicolas du Chardonnet) the worst of scandals and the most dreadful +of catastrophes; but certain inexplicable incidents of the trial at +Versailles had impressed him sufficiently to make him realize that we +dreaded above all things to bring again to the public mind what someone +had called “The Mystery of Mlle. Stangerson.”</p> + +<p>He comprehended this on the evening of which I speak better than he had +ever done before, and knew that Larsan must hold one of those terrible +secrets on which life and honor depend, and with which the magistrates +of the world can have no concern.</p> + +<p>M. Rance bowed to M. Robert Darzac without uttering a word; but the +salute signified the declaration that M. Arthur Rance was ready to +combat for the cause of Mathilde, whatever it might be, as a noble +chevalier, who does not bother himself about the reason of the battle +in the moment when he dies for his lady. At least, I thus interpreted +his gesture, and I felt certain that, in spite of his recent marriage, +the American had by no means forgotten his old love.</p> + +<p>M. Darzac said:</p> + +<p>“This man must disappear, but in silence, whether we move him by our +entreaties, or bribe him or kill him. But the first condition of his +disappearance is to keep the fact that he has reappeared at all a +secret. Above all—and I am speaking of the heartfelt wish of Mme. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span> +Darzac as well as my own—M. Stangerson must never know that we are +menaced by the blows of this monster.”</p> + +<p>“Mme. Darzac’s wishes are commands,” replied Rouletabille. “M. +Stangerson shall know nothing.”</p> + +<p>We went on to discuss the situation in regard to the servants and to +what one might expect from them. Happily, Pere Jacques and the Berniers +were already partly in the secret and would be astonished at nothing. +Mattoni was devoted enough to render unquestioning obedience to Mme. +Edith. The others did not count. Later there would be Walter, the +servant of Old Bob, but he had accompanied his master to Paris, and +would not return until he did.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille arose, exchanged through the window a signal with Bernier, +who was standing erect upon the threshold of the Square Tower. Then he +came back to us and sat down again.</p> + +<p>“Larsan probably is not far off,” he said. “During dinner I made a tour +of observation around the place. We possess at the North gate a natural +means of defense which is really marvellous, and which completely +replaces the old fortifications of the château. We have there fifty +paces away, at the western shore, the two frontier posts of the French +and Italian revenue officers, whose untiring vigilance may be of the +greatest assistance to us. Pere Bernier is on the most friendly terms +with these worthy people, and I am going with him to talk to them. The +Italian customs officer speaks only Italian, but the French officer +speaks both languages, as well as the patois of the country, and it is +this man, whom Bernier tells me is called Michael, to whom I look to be +of the greatest use to us. Through his means we have already learned +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span> +that the two revenue posts are much interested in the strange manœuvres +of the little boat, which belongs to Tullio, the fisherman, whom +they call ‘the hangman of the sea.’ Old Tullio is one of the former +acquaintances of the customs men. He is the most skillful smuggler +on the coast. He had with him this evening in his boat an individual +whom the revenue officers had never seen. The boat, Tullio and the +passenger, all disappeared at the Pointe de Garibaldi. I have been +there with Pere Bernier, and we found nothing, any more than M. Darzac, +who visited the spot before us. However, Larsan must have landed. * * * +I have a presentiment of the fact. In any case, I am sure that Tullio’s +little boat is anchored near the Pointe de Garibaldi.”</p> + +<p>“You are sure of that?” cried M. Darzac.</p> + +<p>“What reason have you for thinking so?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“Bah!” exclaimed Rouletabille. “It left the marks of the keel in the +sand on the bank, and when they anchored, they let fall a little +lantern, which I picked up and which the revenue officers recognized as +the one used by Tullio when he fishes in the waters on calm nights.”</p> + +<p>“Larsan certainly landed!” repeated M. Darzac. “He is at Rochers +Rouges.”</p> + +<p>“In any case, if the boat has been left at Rochers Rouges, he has +not come back here,” exclaimed Rouletabille. “The two revenue posts +are situated upon the narrow road which leads from Rochers Rouges to +France, and are placed in such a manner that no one can pass by whether +by day or by night without being seen. You know besides that the Red +Rocks from which the village takes its name form a cul de sac, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> +that a sentinel is on guard in front of these rocks every hundred +meters around the frontier. The sentinel passes between the rocks and +the sea. The rocks are steep and form a terrace sixty meters high.”</p> + +<p>“That is true,” said Arthur Rance, who had not recently spoken, and who +seemed greatly interested. “It is not easy to scale the rocks.”</p> + +<p>“He will have hidden himself in the grottoes,” said Darzac. “There are +some deep pockets in the terrace.”</p> + +<p>“I thought of that,” said Rouletabille. “And I went back alone to +Rochers Rouges, after I left Pere Bernier.”</p> + +<p>“That was very imprudent!” I said.</p> + +<p>“It was very prudent,” corrected Rouletabille. “I had some things to +say to Larsan which I did not wish a third party to hear. Well, I went +back to Rochers Rouges and called Larsan’s name through all the caves.”</p> + +<p>“You called him?” cried Arthur Rance.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I shouted into the gathering night; I waved my handkerchief as +the soldiers wave their flag of truce. But whether it was that he heard +me and saw my white flag or not, he did not answer.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he was not there,” I suggested.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not: I don’t know. I heard a noise in the grotto.”</p> + +<p>“And you did not enter?” demanded Arthur Rance.</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Rouletabille, quietly. “But you do not think that it was +because I was afraid of him, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Let us run!” we all cried in one breath, rising at the same moment. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span> +“Let us go and finish up the business immediately.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think that we shall ever have a better chance of meeting +Larsan,” said Arthur Rance. “We can do what we like with him at the +bottom of Rochers Rouges.”</p> + +<p>Darzac and Arthur Rance were already starting off; I waited to see +what Rouletabille would say. He calmed the two men with a gesture, and +begged them to be seated again.</p> + +<p>“It is necessary to remember,” he said, “that Larsan would have acted +exactly as he has done if he had wished to lure us to-night to the +grotto of Rochers Rouges. He has shown himself to us; he has landed +almost under our eyes at the Point of Garibaldi; he might as well have +shouted under our windows, ‘You know I am at Rochers Rouges. I’ll +wait for you there.’ He would have been neither more explicit or more +eloquent.”</p> + +<p>“You went to Rochers Rouges,” resumed Arthur Rance, who I saw was +deeply impressed with the arguments of Rouletabille—“and he did not +show himself. He hid himself, meditating on some horrible crime to be +committed to-night. We must have him out of that grotto.”</p> + +<p>“Doubtless,” replied Rouletabille, “my promenade to Rochers Rouges +produced no result because I was all alone—but if we all go, I can +assure you that we shall find some results on our return.”</p> + +<p>“On our return?” echoed Darzac who did not understand.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” explained Rouletabille; “on our return to the château, where we +have left Mme. Darzac all alone—and where, perhaps, we may not find +her. Oh, of course,” he added, as a general silence fell upon his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span> +companions, “it is only a hypothesis. But at this time we have no other +means of reasoning than by hypothesis.”</p> + +<p>We looked at each other and this hypothesis overwhelmed us. Evidently, +without Rouletabille, we should have committed a terrible blunder and +perhaps have been responsible for a terrible disaster.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille arose and continued, thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>“You see, to-night there is nothing that we can do except to barricade +ourselves. It is only a temporary barricade, for I want the place +put in an absolutely unassailable state to-morrow. I have had the +iron doors closed and Pere Jacques is guarding them. I have stationed +Mattoni as sentinel at the chapel. I have established a barrier under +the postern, the only vulnerable point of the inner court, and I will +guard that myself. Pere Bernier will watch all night at the door of the +Square Tower, and Mere Bernier, who has a good pair of eyes, and to +whom I have given a spyglass, will remain until morning on the platform +of the tower. Sainclair will station himself in the little palm leaf +pavilion upon the terrace of the Round Tower. From the height of this +terrace he will watch as I do all the inner court and the boulevards +and parapets. M. Rance and M. Darzac will go into the garden and walk +until daylight, the one toward the boulevard on the west, the other +toward the boulevard on the east—the two boulevards which are at the +edge of the outer court near the sea. The vigil will be hard to-night, +because we are not yet organized. To-morrow we shall draw up a set of +rules for our little garrison, and a list of the trustworthy domestics +upon whom we may depend with security.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></p> + +<p>“If there is one on the place who could come under the slightest +suspicion, he must be dismissed at once. You will bring here to this +cell all the arms which you can gather—rifles and revolvers. We will +divide them among those who do guard duty. The sentinel is to draw upon +every person who does not reply to ‘Who goes there?’ and who is not +recognized. There is no need of a password, it would be useless. Let +the countersign be to utter one’s name and to show one’s face. Besides, +it is only ourselves who have the right to pass. Beginning to-morrow +morning I will have raised at the inner entrance of the North gate the +grating which until to-day formed its exterior entrance—the entrance +which is closed, henceforth, by the iron doors; and in the daytime the +commissaires can come as far as this grating with their provisions. +They will place their wares in the little lodge in the tower where I +have stationed Pere Jacques. At seven o’clock every night, the iron +doors will be closed. To-morrow morning M. Arthur Rance will send for +builders, masons and carpenters. Every person on the place will be +counted, and no one allowed, under any pretext, to pass the door of +the second court. Before seven o’clock in the evening everyone will be +counted again, and the workpeople will be allowed to go out. In this +one day the men must completely finish their work, which will consist +of making a door for my postern, repairing a small breach in the wall +which joins the New Castle to the Tower of Charles the Bold and another +little break near the Round Tower (B in the plan), which defends the +north-east corner of the outer court. After that, I shall be tranquil, +and Mme. Darzac, who is forbidden to leave the château under the new +order, having been placed in security, I may attempt a sortie and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span> +enter seriously into the search for the camp of Larsan. Come, M. Rance, +to arms! Bring me some weapons to pass around this evening. I have +loaned my own revolver to Pere Bernier, who is keeping guard before the +door of Mme. Darzac’s apartments.”</p> + +<p>Anyone not knowing of the events at the Glandier who had heard the +words spoken by Rouletabille would have considered both him who spoke +and us who listened to be beside ourselves. But, I repeat, if anyone +had lived, like myself, through that terrible and mysterious time, he +would have done what I did—loaded his revolver and waited for dawn +without uttering a word.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br> +WHICH CONTAINS SOME PAGES FROM THE HISTORY OF JEAN ROUSSEL-LARSAN +BALLMEYER</h2> +</div> + + +<p>An hour later, we were all at our posts, passing along the parapets +in the moonlight, keeping close watch upon the land, the sky and +the water, and listening anxiously to the slightest sounds of the +night—the sighing of the sea and the voices of the birds which began +to sing at about three o’clock in the morning. Mme. Edith, who said +that she could not sleep, came out and talked to Rouletabille at his +postern. The lad called me, placed me in charge of his postern and +of Mrs. Rance, and made his rounds. The fair Edith was in the most +charming humor. She looked as fresh as a rose washed in dew, and she +seemed to be greatly amused at the wan countenance of her husband, to +whom she had brought out a glass of whisky.</p> + +<p>“It’s the funniest thing I ever heard of,” she exclaimed, clapping her +tiny hands. “All of you keeping watch out here like this! How I wish I +knew your Larsan! I’m sure I should adore him!”</p> + +<p>I shuddered involuntarily at the words she uttered so lightly. Beyond +a doubt there do exist romantic little creatures who fear nothing, and +who in their carelessness jest at fate. Ah! if the unhappy girl had +only realized what was to come!</p> + +<p>I spent two delightful hours with Mme. Edith, during the greater +part of which I related to her some facts regarding the history of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span> +Ballmeyer. And since this occasion presents itself, I will at this time +relate to the reader, in historical order—if I may use an expression +which perfectly interprets my meaning—the characteristics and +circumstances in the career of Larsan-Ballmeyer, some of which had been +sufficient to make it doubtful whether he still lived at the time that +he appeared to play so unexpected a part in “The Mystery of the Yellow +Room.” As this man’s powers will be seen to extend in “The Perfume of +the Lady in Black” to heights which some may believe inaccessible, I +judge it to be my duty to prepare the mind of the reader to admit in +the end that I am only the transcriber of an affair the like of which +never has been known before, and that I have invented nothing. And, +moreover, Rouletabille, in the event that I might have the hardihood to +add to such a wonderful and veracious history any rhetorical ornaments +or exaggerations, would certainly contradict me and riddle my story as +with bullets. The great interests at stake are such that the slightest +exaggeration would assuredly entail the most terrible consequences, so +that I shall keep strictly to the exact details of my narrative, even +at the risk of making it seem a little dry and methodical. I will refer +those who believe in actual records to the stenographic reports of the +trial at Versailles. M. Andre Hesse and M. Henri-Robert, who appeared +for M. Robert Darzac, made admirable addresses, to which the public +may easily obtain access. And it must not be forgotten that before +destiny had brought Larsan-Ballmeyer and Joseph Rouletabille into +contact, the elegantly mannered bandit had given considerable trouble +to the authorities. We have only to open the files of the <i>Gazette +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span> +les Tribuneaux</i> and to read the account of the day when Larsan was +condemned by the Court of Assizes to ten years at hard labor, to be +assured on this score. Then, one will understand that there is no need +of inventing anything about a man concerning whom one can with truth +relate such a history: and thus the reader, knowing the sort of man +that he is—that is to say, his manner of working and his incredible +audacity—will refrain from smiling because Joseph Rouletabille placed +a drawbridge between Larsan-Ballmeyer and Mathilde Darzac.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>M. Albert Bataille of <i>le Figaro</i>, who has published an admirable +work on “Criminal and Civil Causes,” has devoted some interesting pages +to Ballmeyer.</p> + +<p>Ballmeyer had a happy childhood and youth. He did not become a criminal +as so many others have done because driven to evil doing by the hard +blows of poverty and misery. The son of a rich broker in the Rue Molay, +he might have chosen any vocation that he desired, but his preferred +calling was to lay hands upon the money of other people. At an early +age, he decided to become a swindler, just as another lad might have +decided to become an engineer. His debut was a stroke of genius, and +the history of it is almost incredible. Ballmeyer stole a letter +addressed to his father containing a considerable sum of money. Then he +took the train for Lyons and from there wrote his parent as follows:</p> + +<p>“Monsieur, I am an old soldier, retired and with a medal of honor to +show that I have served my country. My son, a postoffice clerk, has +stolen in the mails a letter addressed to you and containing money, to +pay a gambling debt. I have called the members of the family together. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span> +In a few days we shall be able to raise the sum necessary to repay you. +You are a father. Have pity upon a father. Do not bring me down in +sorrow and shame to my grave.”</p> + +<p>M. Ballmeyer willingly granted the petition. He is still waiting for +his first remittance—or, rather, he has ceased to expect it, for the +law apprised him ten years ago of the identity of the culprit.</p> + +<p>Ballmeyer, relates M. Albert Bataille, seems to have received from +nature all the gifts which go to make the successful swindler: a +wonderful diversity, the talent of persuading new acquaintances to +believe in him, the careful attention to the smallest details, the +genius for completely disguising himself (he even took the precaution +along this line of having his linen marked with different initials +every time that he judged it expedient to change his name). But his +strongest characteristic of all was his astonishing aptitude for +evasion—for coquetting with fraud, for mocking at and defying justice. +This was evinced in the malignant pleasure which he took in speaking of +himself at Parquet as among those who might have been guilty, knowing +how little importance would be attached by the magistrate by the clues +which he gave.</p> + +<p>This delight in jesting at the judges was apparent in every act of his +life.</p> + +<p>While he was doing military duty, Ballmeyer stole his companion’s box +and accused the captain.</p> + +<p>He committed a theft of forty thousand francs from the Maison Furet, +and immediately afterward denounced M. Furet as having stolen it +himself.</p> + +<p>The Furet affair remained for a long time celebrated among judicial +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span> +records under the appellation of “the coup of the telephone.” Science, +applied as an aid to knavery, has never given anything better.</p> + +<p>Ballmeyer appropriated a draft for six thousand livres sterling from +the messenger of Messrs. Furet, brothers, who were note brokers in the +Rue Poissoniere, and who allowed him desk room in their offices.</p> + +<p>He went to the Rue Poissoniere, into the house of M. Furet, and, +imitating the voice of M. Edouard Furet, asked over the telephone of +M. Cohen, a banker, whether he would be willing to discount the draft. +M. Cohen replied in the affirmative, and ten minutes later, Ballmeyer, +after having cut the telephone wire to prevent further communication +and possible explanations, sent for the money by a companion named +Rigaud, whom he had known not long before in the African battalion, +where their common interests had made them useful to each other.</p> + +<p>Ballmeyer kept the lion’s share for himself: then he rushed to the +court to denounce Rigaud, and, as I have said, M. Furet himself.</p> + +<p>A dramatic scene took place when accuser and accused were confronted +with each other in the cabinet of M. Espierre, the judge of instruction +who had charge of the affair.</p> + +<p>“You know, my dear Furet,” said Ballmeyer to the amazed broker, “I am +heart-broken at being obliged to expose you, but you must tell the +Justice the truth. It is not an affair from which you need fear serious +consequences. Why don’t you confess? You needed forty thousand francs +to pay a little debt incurred at the race track and you intended to pay +back the sum. It was you who telephoned?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span></p> + +<p>“I! I!” stammered M. Edouard Furet, almost breathless with rage and +astonishment.</p> + +<p>“You may as well confess,” said Ballmeyer. “No one could mistake your +voice.”</p> + +<p>The bold thief was detected within eight days and was caught; and the +police furnished such a report upon him that M. Cruppi, then attorney +general, now Minister of Commerce, presented to M. Furet the most +humble excuses of the Department of Justice. Rigaud was also tried and +condemned to twenty years at hard labor.</p> + +<p>One might go on relating this kind of stories about Ballmeyer +indefinitely. At that time, before he had entered upon the darker and +more horrible pages of his career, he played a comedy—and what a +comedy! It may be as well to give in detail the history of one of his +escapes. Nothing could be more immensely comical than the adventure of +the prisoner composing a long memorial during his trial for the sole +purpose of hanging over the table of the judge, M. Villars, and of +turning over the papers in order to obtain a glimpse of the formula of +orders of discharge.</p> + +<p>When he was sent back to jail at Mazas, the fellow wrote a letter +signed “Villars,” in which, according to the prescribed formula, M. +Villars requested the superintendent of the prison to set the prisoner, +Ballmeyer, at liberty without delay. But he had no paper of the kind +used by the Judge for such matters.</p> + +<p>However, so small a thing as that scarcely embarrassed Ballmeyer. He +went back to the courthouse in the morning, hiding the letter in his +sleeve, protested his innocence and feigning great indignation and +anger. He picked up the seal that lay on the table and gesticulated +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span> +with it in expressing his wrath, and he knocked the inkstand over on +the blue trousers of his guard. While the poor fellow, surrounded by +the inmates of the court-room, who condoled with him on his ill luck, +was sadly sponging off his “Number One,” Ballmeyer profited by the +general diversion to apply a strong pressure of the stamp upon the +order of discharge, and then began loudly excusing himself to the +soldier.</p> + +<p>The trick succeeded. The thief made his way out amid the confusion, +and, negligently tossing the signed and sealed paper to the guards, +remarked carelessly:</p> + +<p>“What is M. Villars thinking of to order me to carry his papers? Does +he take me for his servant?”</p> + +<p>Then he went back to his seat. The guards picked up the paper, and one +of them carried it to the warden at Mazas, to whom it was addressed. +It was the order to set Ballmeyer at liberty without delay. The same +night, Ballmeyer was free.</p> + +<p>This was his second escape. Arrested for the Furet affair, he had +gotten away once by throwing pepper in the eyes of the guard who was +taking him to the station, and that same evening he was present in +evening dress at a first night at the Comedie Française. Prior to this, +at the time when he had been sentenced by court martial to five years’ +imprisonment because he had robbed his companion, he had made his way +out of the Cherche Midi by having one of his comrades forge an order of +release for him. A variation of the same plan had served him well once +more.</p> + +<p>But one would never finish if one tried to relate all the amazing +adventures of Ballmeyer.</p> + +<p>Known at various times as the Count de Maupas, Vicomte Drouet d’erion, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span> +Comte de Motteville, Comte de Bonneville, and under many other aliases, +as an elegant man about town, setting the fashion, he frequented +the summer resorts and watering places—Biarritz, Aix les Bains, +Luchon, losing in play at the club as much as ten thousand francs in +one evening, surrounded by pretty women, who envied each other his +attentions—for this fellow was extremely popular with the fair sex. +In his regiment, he had made a conquest—happily platonic—of the +Colonel’s daughter. Do you know the type now?</p> + +<p>Well, it was with this man that Joseph Rouletabille was going to fight.</p> + +<p>I thought that morning that I had sufficiently informed Mme. Edith in +regard to the personality of the bandit. She listened so silently that +my attention was finally drawn to the fact that she had not uttered a +remark in some time, and, bending down, I saw that she was fast asleep. +This circumstance should not have given me a very good opinion of the +little creature. But, as I watched her sleeping face at my leisure, I +felt springing up in my soul feelings which I later endeavored in vain +to chase away from my mind.</p> + +<p>The night passed without any event. When the day dawned, I saluted +it with a deep sigh of relief. Nevertheless, Rouletabille did not +permit me to retire until eight o’clock in the morning, after he had +settled on how matters should go on through the day. He was already in +the midst of the workmen whom he had summoned, and who were laboring +actively in repairing the breaches of the tower B. The work was done so +expeditiously and so promptly that the strong château of Hercules was +soon sealed as hermetically close as it was possible for a building +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span> +to be. Seated on a big boulder in the bright sunlight, Rouletabille +began to draw upon his note book the plan which I have submitted to the +reader, and he said to me while I, worn out with my vigil, was making +absurd efforts to keep my eyes open:</p> + +<p>“You see, Sainclair, these people believe that I am fortifying the +place to defend myself. Well, that is merely a small part of the truth, +for I am fortifying the place because reason bids me do so. And, if I +close up the breaches, it is less in order that Larsan cannot get in +than for the sake of depriving my reason of any chance of accusing me +of carelessness. For instance, I can never reason in a forest. How will +you reason in a forest? There, reason flies away on every side. But in +a closed up château! My friend, it is like a sealed casket. If you are +inside and are not insane, your reasoning powers must come back to you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” I murmured sleepily, nodding. “That’s it—your reason will +come back to you——”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, never mind!” answered Rouletabille. “Go to bed, old +fellow. You are walking in your sleep now.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br> +IN WHICH “OLD BOB” UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVES</h2> +</div> + + +<p>When I heard a knock at my door about eleven o’clock in the morning and +the voice of Mere Bernier told me that Rouletabille wanted me to get +up, I threw my window wide open and looked out in delight. The bay was +of an incomparable beauty, and the sea was so transparent that the rays +of the sun pierced through it as they would have done through a mirror +without quicksilver, so that one could perceive the rocks, the anemones +and the moss in the sea bottom just as if the waters had ceased to +cover them and left them bared to the eye. The harmonious curve of the +bank on the Mentone side enclosed the sea like a flowery frame. The +villas of Garavan, white and rose, looked like fresh flowers which had +blossomed over night. The peninsula of Hercules was a bouquet which +floated upon the waters and perfumed the old stones of the château.</p> + +<p>Never had nature appeared to me more sweet, more delightful, more +exquisite, nor, above all, more worthy of being loved. The serene +air, the beautiful shore, the balmy sea, the purple mountains, all +this picture to which my Northern senses were so little accustomed, +evoked in my mind the thought of some tender, caressing human being. +As these thoughts passed through my mind, I noticed a man who was +lashing the sea. Oh! he gave it a box on the ear! I could have wept +if I had been a poet! The miserable wretch appeared to be furiously +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span> +angry. I could not understand what had excited his wrath in this +tranquil spot, but he evidently felt that he had some serious cause for +vexation, for he never ceased his blows. He was armed with an enormous +cudgel, and, standing erect in a tiny boat, into which a timid child +might have feared to entrust its weight, he administered to the sea, +with the fiercest splashings, such a castigation as provoked the mute +indignation of some strangers who were standing on the shore. But as +everyone under all circumstances dreads to mix himself in what is none +of his affairs, these persons made no protest. What was it that could +have so deeply excited the savage? Perhaps it might have been the very +calm of the sea which, after having been for a moment disturbed by the +insult of the madman, resumed its peaceful tranquillity.</p> + +<p>At this point, I was interrupted by the voice of Rouletabille, who told +me that breakfast was nearly ready. Rouletabille appeared in the garb +of a plasterer, his clothing showing plainly that he had been working +in the fresh mortar. In one hand he held a foot rule and in the other +a file. I asked him whether he had seen the man who was beating the +water, and he told me that it was Tullio who was frightening the fishes +to drive them into his nets. It was for this reason, I realized, that +Tullio had obtained the nickname of the “hangman of the sea.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille went on to tell me that he had asked Tullio that morning +about the stranger whom he had rowed about in his boat the night +before, and whom he had taken all around the peninsula of Hercules. +Tullio had replied that he had no knowledge whatever of whom the man +might be; that he was a crazy sort of fellow whom he had taken in as a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span> +passenger at Mentone, and who had given him five francs to land him at +the point of Rochers Rouges.</p> + +<p>I dressed myself quickly and joined Rouletabille, who told me that we +were to have a new guest at luncheon, in the person of “Old Bob.” We +waited for a few moments for him to come to the table, and then, as he +did not appear, we began our repast without him in the flowery frame of +the round terrace of Charles the Bold.</p> + +<p>There was served to us a delicious bouillabaisse, smoking hot, which +seemed to have drawn the best of their flavors from fishes of all +species, and was tinted by a little <i>vino del Paese</i>, and which, +in the light and brightness of the daytime, contributed as much as all +the precaution of Rouletabille toward making us feel serene and secure. +In truth, we felt not the slightest fear of the dreaded Larsan under +the beautiful sunshine of the brilliant heavens, whatever we may have +felt in the pale gleam of the moon and stars. Ah, how forgetful and +easily impressed human nature is! I am ashamed to say it, but we were +feeling rather proud (I speak for Arthur Rance and myself, and also +for Edith, whose romantic and languid nature was superficial, as such +are likely to be) of the fact that we could smile and speak with scorn +of our nocturnal vigils and of our armed guard upon the boulevards of +the citadel—when Old Bob made his appearance. And—let me say it; let +me say it here—it was not this apparition which could have turned our +thoughts toward anything dark or gloomy. I have rarely seen anything +more droll than Old Bob walking in the blinding sun of the springtime +in the Midi, with a tall hat of black beaver; his black trousers, his +black spectacles, his white hair and his rosy cheeks. Yes, yes, we sat +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span> +there and laughed in the tower of Charles the Bold. And Old Bob laughed +with us. For Old Bob was as gay as a child.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>What was this old savant doing at the Château of Hercules? Perhaps this +is as good a time as any to explain. How could he have made up his +mind to quit his collections in America and his work and his drawings +and his museum in Philadelphia? For these reasons: The reader will not +have forgotten that M. Arthur Rance was already looked upon in his +own country as the anthropologist of the future at the time when his +unhappy infatuation for Mlle. Stangerson had weaned him away from his +studies and made them almost distasteful to him. After his marriage +to Miss Prescott, who was deeply interested in such matters, he felt +that he could resume with pleasure his researches in the science of +Gall and Lavater. But at the self-same time that they visited the azure +shores in the autumn which preceded the events of this history, there +was much discussion in regard to the new discoveries which M. Abbo had +just made at Rochers Rouges. MM. Julien, Riviere, Girardin, Delesot +had come to the spot to work, and had succeeded in interesting the +Institute and the Minister of Public Instruction in their discoveries. +These discoveries soon created a profound sensation, for they proved +beyond the shadow of a doubt that primeval man had lived in this spot +before the glacial epoch. Without doubt, the proof of the existence of +the man of the quarternary epoch had been found long before; but this +epoch, extending certainly two hundred thousand years into the past, +was interesting in that it fixed the quarternary epoch in the proper +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span> +period. Learned men were always digging at Rochers Rouges, and they +came upon surprise after surprise. However, the most beautiful of the +grottoes—the Barma Grande, as they called it in the country-side—had +remained intact, for it was the private property of M. Abbo, who kept +the “Restaurant of the Grotto” not far away on the sea shore. M. Abbo +was determined to dig in his own grotto himself. But now, public report +(for the event had passed the bounds of the scientific world and +interested people generally) said that in the Barma Grande there had +been found extraordinary human bones, skeletons remarkably preserved +by the ferruginous earth, contemporaneous with the mammoths of the +beginning of the quarternary epoch, or even of the end of the tertiary +epoch.</p> + +<p>Arthur Rance and his wife hastened to Mentone, and while the husband +passed his days in antiquarian researches, going back two hundred +thousand years, digging up with his own hands the humerus of the Barma +Grande and measuring the skulls of his ancestors, his young wife +seemed to experience an ever renewed pleasure in rambling over the +mediæval ruins of an old fortress which reared its massive silhouette +above a little peninsula, united to Rochers Rouges by a few crumbling +stones. The most romantic legends were attached to this relic of the +old Genoese wars; and it seemed to Edith, pensively leaning from the +highest terrace, in the most beautiful scene in the world, that she +was one of those noble demoiselles of ancient times, whose romantic +adventures she had so dearly loved to read in the pages of her favorite +romances. The castle was for sale and the price was very reasonable. +Arthur Rance purchased it, and by doing so made his wife the happiest +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span> +of women. She sent for masons and furnishers, and within three months +she had succeeded in transforming the old fortress into an exquisite +nest of love—an ideal abode for a young person who reveled in “The +Lady of the Lake,” or “The Bride of Lammermoor.”</p> + +<p>When Arthur Rance had found himself standing beside the last skeleton +discovered in the Barma Grande, and knew that the <i>elephus +antiquus</i> had come out of the same bed of earth, he was beside +himself with enthusiasm, and his first impulse had been to telegraph +to Old Bob and tell him that it might be that someone had discovered, +a few kilometers from Monte Carlo, the relics which the old savant had +been seeking for so many years in the mountains of Patagonia. But the +telegram never reached its destination, for Old Bob, who had previously +promised to join his nephew and niece after they had been married for +awhile, had already taken the steamer for Europe. Evidently report +had already brought to him the story of the treasures of the Rochers +Rouges. A few days after the cable had been dispatched, he landed at +Marseilles and arrived at Mentone, where he became the companion of +Arthur Rance and his wife in the Château of Hercules, which his very +presence seemed to fill with life and gayety.</p> + +<p>The gayety of Old Bob appeared to us a little theatrical, but that +feeling arose without doubt from the effects of our apprehensions of +the evening before. The Old Bob had the soul of a child; he was as much +of a coquette as an old woman (that is to say, that his coquetries +frequently changed their object), and, having once for all adopted a +garb of the most severe—black coat, black waistcoat, black trousers, +white hair and rosy cheeks—there was constantly attached to him the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span> +idea of complete harmony. It was in this professional uniform that Old +Bob had chased the tigers in the pampas and this he wore at the present +time while he dug in the grottoes of Rochers Rouges in his search for +the missing bone of the <i>elephus antiquus</i>.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rance presented him to us, and he uttered a few polite phrases, +after which he opened his wide mouth in a great hearty laugh. He was +jubilant, and we were soon to learn the reason why. He had brought back +from his visit to the Museum of Paris the certainty that the skeleton +of the Barma Grande was no more ancient than the one which he had +discovered in his last expedition to Terra del Fuego. All the Institute +was of this opinion, and took for the basis of its reasonings the fact +that the bone of the spine of the <i>elephus</i> which Old Bob had +carried to Paris, and which the owner of the Barma Grande had loaned +him after having declared to him that he had found it in the same bed +of earth as the famous skeleton—that this spinal bone belonged, let +us say, to an <i>elephus</i> of the middle of the quarternary period. +Ah, it would have done your heart good to hear the joyous contempt with +which Old Bob spoke of the middle of the quarternary period. At the +very thought of a spinal bone of the middle of the quarternary period, +he laughed as heartily as though some one had told him the finest joke +in the world. Could it be that in this day and age, a savant, worthy +of being dignified by the name, could find anything to interest him in +a skeleton of the middle of the quarternary period! His own skeleton +(or, to be more exact, that which he had brought from Terra del Fuego) +dated from the commencement of this period, and, in consequence, was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> +older by two thousand years—you hear? <i>two thousand years—!</i> And +he was sure, because of this shoulder blade having belonged to the cave +bear, the shoulder blade which he had found, he, Old Bob, between the +arms of his own skeleton. (He said “my own skeleton” in his enthusiasm, +making no distinction between the living skeleton which he was carrying +about under his black coat, his black trousers, his white hair and his +rosy cheeks, and the prehistoric skeleton of Terra del Fuego.)</p> + +<p>“Therefore, my skeleton dates from the cave. But that of +Baousse-Raousse! Oh, no, no, my children! at furthest from the epoch +of the mammoth, and yet—no—no—from the rhinoceros with the cloven +nostrils. Therefore—One has nothing left to discover, ladies and +gentlemen, in the period of the rhinoceros with the cleft nostrils.—I +swear it, upon the honor of Old Bob. My skeleton comes from the +chelleenne epoch, as you say in France. Well, what are you laughing at? +I am not even sure that the <i>elephus</i> of Rochers Rouges dates from +the Mousterian epoch. And why not from the Silurian epoch—or yet—or +yet—from the Magdalenian epoch? No, no—that’s too much. An <i>elephus +antiquus</i> from the Magdalenian epoch would be an impossibility. +That <i>elephus</i> will drive me mad! Ah, I shall die of joy. Poor +Baousse-Raousse!”</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith had the unkindness to interrupt the jubilations of her +uncle by announcing to him that Prince Galitch, who had purchased the +Grotto of Romeo and Juliet at Rochers Rouges, must have made some +sensational discovery, for she had seen him, the very morning of Old +Bob’s departure for Paris, passing by the Fort of Hercules, carrying +under his arm a little box which he had touched as he went by, calling +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span> +out to her, “See, Mrs. Rance! I have found a treasure!” She said that +she had asked him what the treasure was, but he had walked on laughing, +with the remark that he would have a surprise for Old Bob on his +return. And later, she had heard that Prince Galitch had declared that +he had discovered “the oldest skull in the history of the human race.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rance had scarcely pronounced these last words when every vestige +of gayety fled from Old Bob’s face and manner. His eyes shot fire and +his voice was husky with passion as he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“That is a lie—an infernal lie! The oldest skull in the history of the +human race is Old Bob’s skull—do you understand me?—it is Old Bob’s +skull.”</p> + +<p>And he shouted out:</p> + +<p>“Mattoni! Mattoni! Bring my trunk here at once!”</p> + +<p>Almost as soon as the words were spoken, we saw Mattoni crossing the +Court of Charles the Bold with Old Bob’s trunk on his shoulder. He +obeyed the professor to the letter, and carried the trunk through the +room and up to his master. Old Bob took his bunch of keys, got down on +his knees and opened the box. From this receptacle, which contained his +clothing and piles of clean linen, neatly folded, he took a hat box, +and from the hat box he drew out a skull, which he placed in the middle +of the table among our coffee cups.</p> + +<p>“The oldest skull in the history of humanity!” he echoed. “Here it is! +It is Old Bob’s skull! Look at it! Oh, I can tell you, Old Bob never +goes anywhere without his skull!”</p> + +<p>And he took up the frightful object and began to caress it, his eyes +sparkling and his thick lips parting once more in a broad smile. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> +If you will represent to yourself that Old Bob knew French only +imperfectly and pronounced it like English or Spanish (he spoke Spanish +like a native), you will see and hear the scene. Rouletabille and I +were unable longer to control ourselves, and nearly split our sides +with laughter—all the more, because Old Bob every few moments would +interrupt himself in the midst of a peal of merriment to demand of us +what was the object of our mirth. His wrath was almost as funny as +his mirth, and even Mme. Darzac could not refrain from laughter, for, +in truth, Old Bob, with his “oldest skull of the human race,” was a +droll sight to see. I must acknowledge, too, that a skull two hundred +thousand years old is not such an unpleasant sight as one might expect +it to be, especially when, like this one, it has all its teeth.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Old Bob grew serious. He lifted the skull in his right hand +and placed the forefinger of the left hand upon the forehead of his +ancestor.</p> + +<p>“When one looks at the skull from above, one notices very clearly a +pentagonal formation which is due to the notable development of the +parietal bumps and the jutting out of the shell of the occipitals. The +great breadth of the face comes from the exaggerated development of +the zygomatic proportions. While in the head of the troglodytes of the +Baousse-Raousse, what do we find?”</p> + +<p>I shall never know what it was that Old Bob found in the head of the +troglodytes, for I did not listen to him, <i>but I looked at him</i>. +And I had no further inclination for laughter. Old Bob seemed to +me terrifying, horrible, as false as the Father of Lies, with his +counterfeit gayety and his scientific jargon. My eyes remained fixed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> +upon him as if they were fascinated. It seemed to me that I could +see his hair move, just as a wig might do. One thought—the thought +of Larsan, which never left me completely, seemed to expand until it +filled my entire brain. I felt as if I must speak it out, when all at +once, I felt an arm locked in mine, and I saw Rouletabille looking at +me with an expression which I did not know how to read.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter, Sainclair?” whispered the lad, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“My friend,” I returned in a tone as low as his own. “I dare not tell +you; you would make sport of me.”</p> + +<p>He drew me away from the table and we walked toward the west boulevard. +After he had looked closely on every side and made sure that no one was +near us, he said:</p> + +<p>“No, Sainclair, no: I won’t make sport of you, for you are in the +right in seeing <i>him</i> everywhere around us. If he were not there +a little while ago, he is perhaps there now. Ah, he is stronger than +the stones! He is stronger than anything else in the world. I fear him +less within than without. And I should be very glad if the stones which +I have called to my aid in hindering his entrance shall aid me to hold +him inside. For, Sainclair, <i>I feel that he is here</i>!”</p> + +<p>I pressed Rouletabille’s hand, for, strange as it may seem, I shared +the same impression—I felt that the eyes of Larsan were upon me—I +could hear him breathe. When and how this sensation had first come over +me, I was unable to say. But it seemed to me that it had come with the +appearance of Old Bob.</p> + +<p>I said to Rouletabille, scarcely daring to put into words what was in +my mind:</p> + +<p>“Old Bob?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span></p> + +<p>He did not answer. At the end of a few moments, he said:</p> + +<p>“Hold your left hand in your right for five minutes and then ask +yourself: <i>‘Is it you, Larsan?’ And when you have replied to +yourself, do not feel too sure, for he may, perhaps, have lied to you, +and he may be in your own skin without your knowing it.</i>”</p> + +<p>With these words, Rouletabille left me alone in the west boulevard. +It was there that Pere Jacques came to look for me. He brought me a +telegram. Before reading it, I congratulated him on his appearance, +for he showed no trace of the fact that, like all the rest of us, he +had passed a sleepless night; but he informed me that the pleasure he +experienced in seeing his “dear Mlle. Mathilde” happy had made him +ten years younger. Then he tried to obtain from me some information +in regard to the motives for the strange vigil of the night before, +and the reason for the events which had occurred at the château since +Rouletabille’s arrival and for the exceptional precautions which had +been taken to prevent the entrance of any stranger. He added that if +“that monster, Larsan,” were not dead, it would seem as if we dreaded +his return. I told him that this was not the moment for explanations +and reasoning, and that, as he was a worthy man, he ought, like all +other soldiers, to observe the rules without seeking to understand them +or to discuss them. He saluted me with a military gesture and started +off, shaking his head. The old man was evidently puzzled, and it did +not displease me at all that, since he had the watch of the North Gate, +he had thought of Larsan. He also had narrowly escaped being one of +Larsan’s victims; he had not forgotten the fact. It would make him a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span> +better sentinel.</p> + +<p>I was not in much of a hurry to open the dispatch which Pere Jacques +had brought me, and in this I was wrong, for as soon as I cast my +eyes over the words which it contained, I realized that it was of the +deepest importance. My friend at Paris, whom I had requested to keep +an eye upon Brignolles, sent me word that the said Brignolles had left +Paris the evening before for the Midi. He had taken the 10:35 train. My +friend informed me that he had reason to believe that Brignolles had +taken a ticket for Nice.</p> + +<p>What should Brignolles be doing in Nice? That was the question which I +propounded to myself, and which I have since so often regretted that a +foolish impulse of self-esteem kept me from putting to Rouletabille. +The young reporter had made so much fun of me when I showed him the +first dispatch, which stated that Brignolles had not quitted Paris, +that I resolved to tell him nothing about the one which announced his +departure. Since Brignolles amounted to so little, in his opinion, I +would not bother him with Brignolles. And I kept Brignolles to myself, +all alone and so well, that when, assuming my most indifferent air, +I rejoined Rouletabille in the Court of Charles the Bold, I never +mentioned the subject.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille was ready to fasten down with bars of iron the heavy +circularly cut oak board which closed the opening to the “oubliette,” +and he showed me that even if the shaft communicated with the sea, it +would be impossible for anyone to succeed in an attempt to introduce +himself into the château by this means, for the reason that he could +not raise the board and would be driven to give up his plan. His +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span> +brow was dripping with perspiration, his arms were bared, his collar +thrown off, a heavy hammer was in his hand. It seemed to me that he was +devoting considerable time and energy to a comparatively simple task, +and, like a fool who does not see beyond the end of his own nose, I +could not refrain from telling him so. How could I have helped guessing +that the boy was voluntarily exerting himself beyond necessity, and +that he was delivering himself up to all sorts of physical fatigue in +order to efface the memory of the grief which filled his poor heart? +But no! I was only able to understand that, half an hour later, when I +came upon him lying beside the ruins of the chapel, murmuring in his +dreams the one word which betrayed the sorrow of his heart—“Mother.” +Rouletabille was dreaming of the Lady in Black! He dreamed, perhaps, +that her arms were around him as in days gone by, when he was a little +fellow and came into the school parlor, flushed and breathless with +running. I waited beside him for a moment, asking myself nervously +if I ought to leave him in there, or whether there was any danger +of anyone’s else passing by and discovering his secret. But, after +having relieved his overcharged heart with that one word, the lad left +nothing more to be heard except his heavy breathing. He was completely +exhausted. I believe that it was the first time that the boy had really +slept since we had come from Paris.</p> + +<p>I profited by his slumbers to leave the château without informing +anyone of my intention, and soon, my dispatch in my pocket, I took the +train for Nice. On the way, I chanced to read this item on the first +page of the <i>Petit Nicois</i>: “Professor Stangerson has arrived +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span> +at Garavan, where he will spend a few weeks with M. Arthur Rance, the +recent purchaser of the Fort of Hercules, who, aided by the beautiful +Mme. Arthur Rance, will dispense the most gracious hospitality to +his friends in this fine old mediæval stronghold. As we go to press, +we learn that Professor Stangerson’s daughter, whose marriage to M. +Robert Darzac has just taken place in Paris, has also arrived at the +Fort of Hercules with her husband, the brilliant young professor of la +Sorbonne. These new guests descend upon us from the North at the time +when strangers usually leave us. How wise they are! There is no more +beautiful springtime in the world than that of the ‘azure shore.’”</p> + +<p>At Nice, hidden behind the blinds of a buffet, I awaited the arrival +of the train from Paris, by which Brignolles was due to arrive. And +the next moment I saw him alighting from a car. Ah, how my heart beat, +for I knew that there must be some strange reason for this journey +of which he had not informed M. Darzac beforehand. And I knew that +the trip was a secret one, when I saw that Brignolles was trying to +avoid observation, was bending his head as he hurried along, gliding +rapidly as a pickpocket among the passengers, so that he was soon lost +to sight. But I was behind him. He jumped into a closed hack and I +hastily got into another closed just as tightly. At the Place Massena +he left his carriage and turned toward the Jetee Promenade, where he +took another cab. I still followed him. These manœuvres seemed to me +more and more ambiguous. Finally, Brignolles’ carriage came out upon +the road de la Corniche, and I directed my coachman to take the same +way. The numerous windings of this road, its accentuated curves, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span> +permitted me to see without being seen. I had promised my coachman a +large tip if he helped me to keep in sight of my quarry, and he did his +very best. Finally, we reached the Beaulieu railway station, where I +was astonished to see Brignolles’ carriage stop and the man himself get +out, pay the driver and enter the waiting room. He was going to take +the train. For what purpose? If I should attempt to get into the same +car as he, would he not be certain to see me in this little station +or on the almost deserted platform? But I decided to try it anyway. +If he were to see me, I could get out of the difficulty by feigning +surprise at his presence, and by sticking to him until I was sure of +what he was going to do in this part of the world. But luck was with me +and Brignolles did not see me. He got into a passenger coach which was +bound for the Italian frontier. I realized that all his movements were +bringing him nearer to the Fort of Hercules. I got in the car behind +his and watched from my window all the travellers who got out at every +station.</p> + +<p>Brignolles did not get off until we reached Mentone. He certainly had +some reason for reaching there by a different train than the one from +Paris, and at an hour when there was little chance of his seeing any +acquaintances at the station. I saw him alight: he had turned up the +collar of his overcoat and pulled his hat down over his eyes. He cast +a stealthy glance around the quay, and then, as if reassured, mingled +with the other passengers. Once outside the trainshed, he got into a +shabby old stage coach which was standing by the sidewalk. I watched +him from the corner of the waiting room. What was he doing here? And +where was he going in that rackety old vehicle? I inquired of an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> +employé, who told me that that carriage was the stage to Sospel.</p> + +<p>Sospel is a picturesque little city lost between the last counterfores +of the Alps, two hours and a half from Mentone by coach. No railroad +passes through there. It is one of the most retired and quietest +corners of France, the most dreaded by revenue officers and by the +Alpine hunters. But the road which leads to it is one of the most +beautiful in the world, for, in order to reach Sospel, it is necessary +to wind through I do not know how many mountain passes, to climb +countless precipices, and to follow, until one reaches Castillon, the +deep and narrow valley of Carei, as wild as a field in Judæa, but +covered with luxuriant herbage, bright with beautiful flowers, fertile +and beautiful with the shimmering gold of its forests of olive trees, +which descend from the heights to the clear bed of the stream by the +terraces of a giant staircase formed by nature. I had been at Sospel +a few years previously with a party of English tourists in an immense +carriage, drawn by eight horses, and I had brought from the trip a +remembrance of vertigo which came over my mind in the future every time +the name was mentioned. Why was Brignolles going to Sospel? I must +find out. The diligence was crowded and had already started on its way +with a loud noise of creaking springs and of shaking window panes. I +hired a carriage from the station and in a few moments I, too, was +climbing over the rocks to the valley of Carei. How I regretted not +having spoken of my telegram to Rouletabille! The strange behavior of +Brignolles would have given him ideas, useful and reasonable, while, +for my part, I had not the slightest idea of how to reason. I only +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span> +knew how to follow this Brignolles as a dog follows his master or a +policeman follows his quarry by the clues which he finds. And yet, had +I followed them well, these clues? It was at the moment that I felt +certain that nothing in the world in regard to this man’s movements +could be small enough to escape me that I made a formidable discovery. +I had let the diligence keep a little way in advance, a precaution +which I deemed necessary, and I reached Castillon ten minutes later +than Brignolles. Castillon is at the highest point of the road between +Mentone and Sospel. My driver asked my permission to let his horse +rest for a moment, and while he watered the beast, I descended from +the carriage, and, at the entrance of a tunnel through which it was +necessary to pass to reach the opposite turn of the mountain, I beheld +Brignolles and Frederic Larsan!</p> + +<p>I stood staring at them, my feet as helpless as though they had taken +root in the soil. I could not utter a sound nor make a gesture. Upon my +honor, I was completely stupefied by the revelation. Then I recovered +my wits, and at the same time felt myself overwhelmed by a feeling +of horror for Brignolles, and by a feeling of admiration for my own +intuition in regard to him. Ah, I had known from the start! I had +been the only one to guess that the companionship of this devil of a +Brignolles had been of the gravest danger to Robert Darzac. If they +would have listened to me, the Professor of la Sorbonne would have +gotten rid of the creature’s presence long ago. Brignolles, the tool of +Larsan—the accomplice of Larsan!—what a discovery! Why, I had known +all along that those accidents in the laboratory had not happened by +chance! They would believe me now! I had seen with my own eyes Larsan +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> +and Brignolles, talking and consulting together at the entrance of the +Castillon tunnel. I <i>had</i> seen them—but where were they gone +now? For I saw them no longer. They must be in the tunnel. I hastened +my steps, leaving my coachman behind me, and reached the tunnel in a +few moments, drawing my revolver from my pocket. My state of mind was +beyond description. What would Rouletabille say when I told him all +about my adventure? It was I—I—who had discovered Brignolles and +Larsan.</p> + +<p>But where were they? I walked through the dark tunnel—no Larsan, no +Brignolles! I looked down the road which descends toward Sospel. Not a +living creature! But upon my left, toward ancient Castillon, it seemed +to me that I could perceive two forms that hastened. They disappeared. +I ran after them. I arrived at the ruins. I stopped. Who could say that +those two figures were not lying in wait for me behind a wall?</p> + +<p>The old Castillon was no longer inhabited, and for a good reason. It +had been entirely ruined—destroyed by the earthquake of 1887. Nothing +of it remained but a few piles of stone and a few mural windows, gently +covered with dust by time; some headless statues, a few isolated +pillars which remained standing upright, spared by the shock, and +leaning sorrowfully toward the earth, melancholy at having nothing +to support. What a silence there was all around me! With a thousand +precautions I searched through the ruins, contemplating with horror +the depth of the crevices which the earthquake of 1887 had opened in +the rocks. One of these in particular seemed to be a shaft without a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> +bottom, and as I leaned above it, hanging on to an olive tree to keep +from falling in, I was almost swept into the abyss by a gust of wind. +I felt the draught on my face and recoiled with a cry. An eagle darted +out of the abyss, quick as a flash. He rose straight to the sun, and +then I saw him descend toward me, and describe some menacing circles +above my head, uttering savage shrieks, as though he reproached me for +having come to trouble him in his realm of solitude and of death which +the elements had given him.</p> + +<p>Had I been the victim of an illusion? I could no longer see my two +shadows. Was I also the plaything of my imagination, when I stooped +and picked up from the road a bit of letter paper which looked to me +singularly like that which M. Robert Darzac used at la Sorbonne?</p> + +<p>Upon this bit of paper I deciphered two syllables which I believed +Brignolles had written. These syllables seemed to be the end of a word +the beginning of which was missing. All that it was possible to make +out was “bonnet.”</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>Two hours later I reëntered the Fort of Hercules and told my story +to Rouletabille, who placed the bit of paper in his portfolio and +entreated me to be as silent as the grave in regard to my expedition.</p> + +<p>Astonished at having produced so different an effect from the one which +I had anticipated at a discovery which I believed so important, I +stared at Rouletabille. He turned his head away, but not quickly enough +to hide from me that his eyes were filled with tears.</p> + +<p>“Rouletabille!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span></p> + +<p>But again, he motioned me not to speak.</p> + +<p>“Silence, Sainclair!”</p> + +<p>I took his hand; it was burning with fever. And I thought that this +agitation could not come entirely from his apprehensions in regard +to Larsan. I reproached him with concealing from me what had passed +between him and the Lady in Black, but, as often happened, he made me +no answer, and turned away, heaving a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>They had waited dinner for me. It was late. The dinner was a dismal +affair, in spite of the gayety of Old Bob. We scarcely attempted to +hide the deep anxiety which froze our hearts. One would have said that +each one of us was resigned to the blow which was threatening and that +we had lost hope that it might be averted. M. and Mme. Darzac ate +nothing. Mme. Edith kept looking at me with a strange expression. At +ten o’clock I went to take up my station at the tower of the gardener, +almost with relief. While I was in the little room where we had +consulted together the night before, the Lady in Black and Rouletabille +passed beneath the arch. The glimmer of the lantern fell on their +faces. Mme. Darzac appeared to me to be in a state of the greatest +excitement. She was urging Rouletabille to something which I could +not hear. The conversation between them looked like an argument and I +caught only one word of Rouletabille, “Thief!”</p> + +<p>The two entered the Court of the Bold. The Lady in Black stretched +her arm toward the young man, but he did not see it, for he left her +immediately and went toward his own room. She remained standing alone +for a moment in the court, leaning against the trunk of the eucalyptus +tree in an attitude of unutterable sadness, then, with slow steps, she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span> +entered the Square Tower.</p> + +<p>It was now the tenth of April. The attack of the Square Tower occurred +on the night between the eleventh and twelfth.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br> +THE EVENTS OF THE ELEVENTH OF APRIL</h2> +</div> + + +<p>This attack took place under circumstances so mysterious and so +inexplicable, to all appearances, under any reasonable hypothesis, that +the reader will permit me, in order to make him comprehend the issue +more fully, to dwell upon certain details in regard to the manner in +which we spent our time on the eleventh day of April, 1895.</p> + +<p class="nindc space-above2">(1) <i>The Morning.</i></p> + +<p>The day, almost from the rising of the sun, was intolerably hot and +the hours on guard were almost overpowering. The sun was as torrid as +in the heart of Africa and it would have blinded us to keep watch over +the waters which burned like a sheet of steel, brought to a white heat, +if we had not been furnished with eyeglasses of smoked glass, without +which it is difficult to pass the season of departing winter in this +part of the country.</p> + +<p>At nine o’clock, I came down from my room and went to the postern +and entered the room which we had styled “the hall of counsel” to +relieve Rouletabille of his guard. I had no time to say a single word +to him before M. Darzac appeared, following almost upon my heels, and +announcing that he had something very important to communicate to us. +We inquired anxiously the cause of his agitation and he replied that he +intended to quit the Fort of Hercules at once, taking his wife with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span> +him. This declaration left Rouletabille and myself dumb with surprise. +I was the first to speak and endeavored to dissuade M. Darzac from even +thinking of such an imprudence. Rouletabille frigidly inquired the +reason for our friend’s sudden resolution and the latter replied by +informing us of a scene which had occurred during the previous evening +at the château and which revealed to us in how difficult a position the +Darzacs were placed by remaining at the Fort of Hercules. The story +may be summed up in a few words: Mme. Edith had had a nervous attack. +We understood the reason at once for there was no doubt in the mind of +either Rouletabille or myself that Mrs. Rance’s jealousy of Mme. Darzac +was increasing every hour and that each act of courtesy performed by +the husband toward the former object of his admiration was positively +insupportable to his wife. The sounds of the fit of hysterics to which +she had treated M. Rance and the words which she had spoken the night +before had penetrated even through the heavy walls of “la Louve,” and +M. Darzac, who was doing sentinel duty in the outer court, had been +unable to help hearing some of the echoes of the young woman’s anger.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille implored M. Darzac to endure the situation with fortitude, +unpleasant as were the circumstances. He assured him that he agreed +with his feeling that the stay of himself and Mme. Darzac at the Fort +of Hercules must be made as brief as possible; but he also assured him +that the security of both depended in great measure on their remaining +in their present quarters for the time being. A new struggle had been +begun between them on the one side and Larsan on the other. If they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> +were to go away Larsan would know on the moment how to overtake them +and in a time and place that they expected him the least. Here, they +were forewarned, they were upon their guard, for they <i>knew</i>. +Elsewhere, they would be at the mercy of everything and every person +that surrounded them, for they would not have the ramparts of the +Fort of Hercules to defend them. Certainly, this situation could not +endure very long, but Rouletabille asked M. Darzac to wait eight days +longer—not a single one more. “Eight days,” said Columbus long ago, +“and I will give you a new world.” “Give me eight days and I will +deliver Larsan into your hands,” was not what Rouletabille said, but it +was what we knew that he was thinking.</p> + +<p>M. Darzac left us, shaking his head, doubtfully. He was angrier than we +had ever seen him. Rouletabille remarked:</p> + +<p>“Mme. Darzac will not leave us and M. Darzac will stay if she does.”</p> + +<p>And he started off on his rounds.</p> + +<p>A few moments later, I caught sight of Mme. Edith. She was charmingly +dressed, with a simplicity which suited her marvellously. She smiled at +me coquettishly, but her gayety seemed a little forced as she jested +at my “new trade.” I answered her, perhaps a little too quickly, that +she was uncharitable in her jests, because she knew quite well that all +the trouble which we were taking and the careful watch which we were +maintaining might be the means, at any moment, of saving the sweetest +of women from untold misery and danger.</p> + +<p>She looked at me mockingly and cried with a sharp little laugh:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, surely. ‘The Lady in Black!’ She has you all under her spell.”</p> + +<p>What a ringing laugh she had! At another time, rest assured, I would +not have allowed anyone to speak so lightly of “the Lady in Black,” but +this morning I had not the strength of mind to assert myself. On the +contrary, I laughed, too.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps, there is a little truth in that speech,” I returned.</p> + +<p>“My husband is crazy about her! I never would have believed that he +could be so romantic. But, then,” she went on, with a droll little +sigh, “I am romantic, too!”</p> + +<p>And she turned upon me that same curious look which had disturbed me +before.</p> + +<p>“Ah?” That was all that I could find to answer.</p> + +<p>“And, therefore,” she continued, “I take very great pleasure in the +conversation of Prince Galitch, who is more romantic than all the rest +of you put together.”</p> + +<p>Whereupon I asked her who was this Prince Galitch of whom I had +heard so much but had not yet seen. She told me that he was coming +to luncheon—that she had invited him on our accounts; and she gave +me a few particulars in regard to him from which I learned that +Prince Galitch was one of the richest landholders in his own part +of Russia—that portion called the “Black Lands,” fertile above all +others, and situated between the forests of the North and the steppes +of the Midi.</p> + +<p>Fallen heir, at the age of twenty, to one of the greatest of Muscovite +estates, he had increased his patrimony by economical and intelligent +management of which no one would have believed a man so young to be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span> +capable—especially one who had heretofore had his hounds and his books +as his principal objects in life. He was called a hermit, a miser and +a poet. He had inherited, from his father a high position at court. +He was a chamberlain to His Majesty and, on account of the immense +services rendered by the parent, the Emperor was supposed to regard the +son with a great deal of affection. He was at once as gentle as a woman +and as strong as a Turk—in brief, a thorough Russian gentleman.</p> + +<p>I cannot tell why, but I felt a singular antipathy for the Prince +without ever having set eyes on him.</p> + +<p>His relations with the Rances were those of friendly neighborliness. +Having purchased two years before the magnificent property whose +hanging gardens, flowery terraces, and beautiful balconies had made it +known at Garavan as “the Garden of Babylon,” he had had the opportunity +to be of assistance to Edith when she had begun to make the outer court +of the Château of Hercules into an exotic garden. He had presented her +with certain plants which had revived, in some corners of the Fort of +Hercules, a tropical vegetation hitherto scarcely known except on the +banks of the Tigris and the Euphrates. M. Rance sometimes invited the +Prince to dinner, and always after one of these functions the Prince +would send to his hostess a wonderful palm tree from Nineveh or a +cactus, fabled to have belonged to Semiramis. He declared that they +cost him nothing. He had too many; he was tired of them and he did not +want them among his roses. Edith said that she was interested in the +young Russian because he dedicated such beautiful verses to her. After +he had repeated them in Russian, he would translate them into English +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span> +and he had even composed them in English for her and for her alone. +Verses—the verses of a real poet, dedicated to Mme. Edith! This had +so flattered her that she had requested the poet to compose English +verses for her and translate them into Russian. This “literary game” +greatly amused Mme. Edith, but Arthur Rance cared for it not at all. +The young anthropologist did not attempt to conceal that his feelings +toward Prince Galitch were not of the most friendly, and I felt assured +that the traits which the husband disliked most heartily were those +which the wife found most attractive in the Russian, for M. Rance had +no use for “verse writing fellows,” nor did he care for those who were +quite so prudent in their expenditures. He could not understand how a +poet could be something very like a miser. The Prince kept no carriage +nor motor car. He used the street cars and often did his own marketing, +attended by his servant, Ivan, who carried a basket for the provisions. +And—so said Mrs. Edith, who had heard these details from the cook—he +haggled over prices with the fishwife when there was only two sous +between what she asked and what he offered. Strangely enough, this +avariciousness did not seem in the least distasteful to Mme. Edith, who +appeared to consider it a mark of originality. And, she finished by +saying, “No one has ever set foot within his doors. He has never even +invited us to come and see his gardens.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it beautifully fascinating?” demanded the young woman when she +had completed her description.</p> + +<p>“Too beautifully fascinating!” I replied. “You will see!”</p> + +<p>I do not know why this answer should have displeased my hostess, but +I could see that it did so. Mme. Edith turned away and left me and I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span> +finished my guard duty which was an hour and a half long.</p> + +<p>The first stroke of the luncheon bell sounded: I hurried to my room +to bathe my hands and face and make a hasty toilet and I mounted the +steps of “la Louve” rapidly fearing that I should be late; but I paused +in the vestibule, amazed to hear the sound of music. Who, under the +present circumstances, cared or dared to play a piano in the Fort of +Hercules? And, hark! Someone was singing. It was a voice at once soft +and sonorous singing a strange song which sounded now plaintive, now +threatening! I know the song now by heart; I have often heard it since. +Ah, reader, you, too, know it well, perhaps, if you have ever passed +the frontiers of chill Lithuania, if you have ever entered the vast +empires of the North. It is the song of the virgins who surround the +traveller as he sails and destroy him without pity; it is the song that +Sienkiewicz, one immortal day, made for Michel Vereszezaka. Listen.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p class="hanging2"> +“<i>If you approach the Swiss lakes at the hour of nightfall, the face +turned toward the lake, the stars above your head, the stars beneath +your feet, and two moons shining before your eyes—you shall see this +plant that caresses the bank—the wives and daughters of the Swiss +whom God has changed into flowers. They balance their forms above the +abyss, their heads white like the moths; their leaves are green as the +needle of the maize tipped with gold.</i></p> + +<p class="hanging2"> +“<i>Images of innocence during life, they have kept their virginal +robe after death; they live in the shadow and no blemish comes near +them; mortal hands dare not touch them.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p> + +<p class="hanging2"> +“<i>The Tsar and his guard one day made the attempt when, after having +gathered the beautiful flowers, they wished to wreath their brows and +adorn their swords with them.</i></p> + +<p class="hanging2"> +“<i>All those who had gathered the blossoms were smitten with great +ill or struck with sudden death.</i></p> + +<p class="hanging2"> +“<i>When time would have effaced these things from the memory of the +people, the memory of the punishment is preserved, and in perpetuating +it, the flowers are still called the doom of the Tsars.</i></p> + +<p class="hanging2"> +“<i>Thus saying the lady of the lake departed slowly; the lake opened +for her the most profound of its depths; but the eye seeks in vain for +the fair unknown whose face was born out of the mist and whose voice +the traveller never heard again.</i>”</p> +</div> + +<p>These were the words, translated into our language, of the song which +was sung by the soft yet resonant voice while the piano played a weird +accompaniment. I opened the door and found myself face to face with a +young man who was standing. I heard the footsteps of Mme. Rance behind +me and the next moment she was introducing me to Prince Galitch.</p> + +<p>The Prince was of the type that one reads of in romances, “handsome, +pensive young man”; his clear cut and rather stern profile might have +given a somewhat severe expression to his face if his eyes, as mild and +clear as those of a child, and with an expression of perfect candor, +had not told an altogether different story. They were framed in long +black lashes so black that they almost looked as though they had been +touched with a pencil; and when one had noticed this peculiarity, one +realized why it was that his countenance looked so strange. His skin +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> +was fresh and rosy, almost like that of a young girl. Such was my first +impression of him but I felt the prejudice which I had experienced +before I saw him rise up in my heart again. But it seemed to me, in +spite of this, that he was too young to be of any special importance.</p> + +<p>I could find nothing to say to this beautiful youth who chanted foreign +poems. Mme. Edith smiled at my embarrassment, took my arm (which gave +me great satisfaction) and led me away to walk in the perfumed gardens +of the outer court while we waited for the second bell for luncheon +which was to be served to us in the cabin of palm trees on the platform +of the Tower of the Bold.</p> + + +<p class="nindc space-above2"> +(2) <i>The Luncheon and What Followed—A Contagious Terror Spreads +Through Our Midst.</i></p> + +<p>At noon we seated ourselves at the table on the terrace of Charles the +Bold, the view from which was incomparable. The palm leaves covered us +with their grateful shade, for the heat of the earth and the heavens +was so intense that our eyes would not have been able to endure +the glare if we had not taken the precaution to put on the smoked +spectacles of which I have spoken before.</p> + +<p>Those of us at the table were M. Stangerson, Mathilde, Old Bob, M. +Darzac, M. Arthur Rance, Edith, Rouletabille, Prince Galitch and +myself. Rouletabille, turning his back to the sea, concerned himself +very little with his companions and had placed himself in such a +position that he could observe everything which transpired along +the entire length of the fort. The servants were at their posts. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span> +Pere Jacques was at the entrance gate, Mattoni at the postern of the +gardener, and the Berniers in the Square Tower before the door of the +apartments occupied by M. and Mme. Darzac.</p> + +<p>The first part of the meal was rather silent. I looked at the others. +We were rather a solemn sight to contemplate around a table spread for +good cheer—mute, and turning upon each other our dark smoked glasses +behind which it was as impossible to see our eyes as to read our +thoughts.</p> + +<p>Prince Galitch was the first to make a remark. He spoke politely to +Rouletabille mentioning the fame which the young reporter had won. +This appeared to embarrass the lad a little and he made a confused and +rather ungracious reply. The Prince did not seem to feel rebuffed, but +went on to explain that he was particularly interested in the exploits +of my friend for the reason that, as a subject of the Tsar, he knew +that Rouletabille would shortly be sent to Russia. But the reporter +replied that nothing had yet been decided and that he would prefer to +say nothing on the subject until he had received his directions from +his paper; whereupon, the Prince astonished us by drawing a newspaper +from his pocket. It was a journal of his own country from which he +translated to us a few lines announcing the fact that Rouletabille +was soon to be in St. Petersburg. There was occurring in that city, +the Prince went on to read to us, a series of events so strange and +inexplicable in high governmental circles that, upon the advice of the +Chief of the Secret Service at Paris, the Superintendent of Police had +decided to ask the Epoch to lend him the young reporter. Prince Galitch +had presented the affair so vividly that Rouletabille blushed to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span> +roots of his hair as he replied dryly that he had never in the course +of his short life done detective work and that the Chief of the Secret +Service at Paris and the Superintendent of Police at St. Petersburg +were two idiots. The Prince showed his fine teeth in a hearty laugh +and it seemed to me that his laughter was not pleasant but cruel and +savage. He seemed to be of Rouletabille’s opinion in regard to the +Government officers, and, as if to prove the fact, he added:</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_005" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_005.jpg" width="1000" height="663" alt="There is a group of people seated around a table outdoors, engaged in a formal meal. The setting appears to be a garden, with lush foliage in the background. The individuals are dressed in elegant attire, indicating a refined gathering."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<table class="autotable" > +<tbody><tr> +<td class="tdl">M. and Mme. Darzac.</td> +<td class="tdc">M. Rance. </td> +<td class="tdc"> Rouletabille. </td> +<td class="tdr">Old Bob. </td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tdl"> Professor Stangerson. Sainclair. </td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdr"> Mrs. Rance.</td> +<td class="tdr"> Prince Galitch.</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>It made us nervous and restless to look at each other, seated around +the table, mute, leaning forward, wearing our black spectacles, behind +which it was as impossible to read our eyes as our thoughts.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“It sounds good to hear anyone talk like that, for now one expects +tasks of journalists which have nothing in the world to do with their +profession.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille made no reply and the subject was abandoned.</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith arose from her chair, speaking ecstatically of the beauty +of nature. But, in her opinion, she declared, there was nothing more +beautiful anywhere near than the “Gardens of Babylon.” She added, +mischievously: “They seem so much more beautiful, because one may only +see them from a distance!”</p> + +<p>The attack was so direct that it seemed as though the Prince must reply +to it by an invitation. But he said nothing. Mme. Edith looked vexed +and a moment later, said suddenly:</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to deceive you any longer, Prince. I have seen your +gardens.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! And how was that?” inquired Galitch, not losing his presence +of mind for an instant.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have been there, and I’ll tell you all about it.”</p> + +<p>And she related while the Prince listened with an air of cold +imperturbability the story of her visit to the “Gardens of Babylon.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span></p> + +<p>She had come upon them, inadvertently, from the rear, in climbing over +a hillock which separated the gardens from the mountains. She had +wandered from enchantment to enchantment, but without being in the +least astonished. When she had walked upon the seashore, she had seen +enough of the “Gardens of Babylon” to prepare her for the marvels, +the secrets of which she had so audaciously stolen. She had finally +reached the edge of a little pond, black as ink, upon the bank of which +she saw a great water lily and a little old woman with a long, peaked +chin. When they saw her the water lily and the little old woman had +fled away, the latter so light on her feet in running that she fairly +skimmed over the ground. Mme. Edith had laughed and had called after +her:</p> + +<p>“Madame! Madame!”</p> + +<p>But the little old woman had seemed only more terrified and had +disappeared with her lily behind the barberry hedge. Mme. Edith had +continued her stroll but not quite so carelessly. Suddenly she had +heard a rustle in the bushes and the strange cry which is made by wild +birds when, surprised by the hunter, they escape from the prison of +verdure in which they have hidden themselves. It was another little old +woman, still more shriveled and wrinkled than the first, but heavier of +build and who carried her cane like a battle axe. She vanished—that +is to say, Edith lost sight of her in a turn of the path. And a third +little old woman, leaning on two canes appeared a little further on +in the mysterious garden: she escaped behind the trunk of a giant +eucalyptus tree and she went so much the faster than she had done +before, by running on her hands and knees so rapidly that it was +amazing that she did not get all tangled up. Mme. Edith still went +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span> +on. And at last she came to the marble steps of the villa with their +climbing roses over head, but the three little old women were standing +guard on the highest step like three rooks on a branch and they opened +their threatening beaks from which escaped threatening sounds. It was +then Mme. Edith’s turn to flee.</p> + +<p>The little woman had related her adventure in a manner so charming and +with such grace, borrowed as it was from the fairy tales of childhood, +that I was enraptured and began to comprehend how certain women who +have nothing natural about them can supplant in the heart of men those +whose gifts are only those of nature.</p> + +<p>The Prince did not seem in the least embarrassed by the little history. +He said without a smile:</p> + +<p>“Those are my three fairy godmothers. They have never left me since the +hour of my birth. I can neither work nor live without them, I can only +leave them when they permit it and they watch over my verse making with +a fierce jealousy.”</p> + +<p>The Prince had scarcely ceased giving us this fantastic explanation of +the presence of the three old women in the “Gardens of Babylon” when +Walter, Old Bob’s man servant, brought a dispatch to Rouletabille. The +latter asked permission to open it and read aloud:</p> + +<p>“Return as soon as possible. We are waiting for you very anxiously. A +magnificent assignment at St. Petersburg.”</p> + +<p>This dispatch was signed by the Editor in chief of the Epoch.</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you say to that, M. Rouletabille?” demanded the Prince. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> +“Will you admit now that I was pretty well informed?”</p> + +<p>The Lady in Black could not repress a sigh.</p> + +<p>“I shall not go to St. Petersburg!” declared Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“They will regret your decision at the Court,” said the Prince. “I am +certain of that, and, allow me to say, young man, that you are missing +a wonderful opportunity.”</p> + +<p>The term “young man” seemed extremely displeasing to Rouletabille, who +opened his lips as though to answer the Prince, but closed them again, +to my great surprise, without uttering a word. Galitch went on:</p> + +<p>“You would have found an adventure worthy of your skill. One may hope +for everything when one has been strong enough to unmask a Larsan!”</p> + +<p>The word fell into the midst of us like a bombshell and, as if by +a common impulse, we took refuge behind our smoked glasses. The +silence which followed was horrible. We sat as motionless as statues. +<i>Larsan!</i> Why should this name which we ourselves had so often +pronounced within the last forty-eight hours and which represented a +danger with which we were commencing to almost feel familiar—why, I +say, should that name, spoken at that precise moment, have produced an +effect upon us, which, speaking for myself, was like nothing ever felt +before? It seemed to me as though I had been struck by a thunderbolt. +An indefinable terror glided through my body. I longed to flee but it +seemed to me that if I were to stand up my limbs would not be able to +support me. The unbroken silence on every hand contributed to increase +this indescribable state of hypnosis. Why did no one speak? Where had +old Bob’s gayety vanished? He had scarcely uttered a word during the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span> +meal. And why did all the others sit so silent and so motionless behind +their dark glasses? All at once, I turned my head and looked behind me. +Then I understood, more by instinct than anything else, that I was the +object of a common psychical attraction. Someone was looking at me. Two +eyes were fixed upon me—<i>weighing</i> upon me. I could not see the +eyes and I did not know from where the glance fixed upon me came, but +it was there. I knew it—and it was <i>his</i> glance. But there was +no one behind me, nor at the right, nor the left, nor in front, except +the people who were seated at the table, motionless, behind their dark +glasses. And then—then I knew that Larsan’s eyes were glaring at me +from behind a pair of those glasses—ah! the dark glasses—the dark +glasses behind which were hidden Larsan’s eyes.</p> + +<p>And then, all at once, the sensation passed. The eyes, doubtless, were +turned away from me. I drew a long breath. Another sigh echoed my own. +Was it from the breast of Rouletabille—was it the Lady in Black, who +perhaps, had at the same time as myself endured the weight of those +piercing eyes?</p> + +<p>Old Bob spoke:</p> + +<p>“Prince, I do not believe that your last spinal bone goes any further +back than the middle of the quarternary period.”</p> + +<p>And all the black spectacles turned in his direction.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille arose and made a sign to me. I hastened to the council +room where he was waiting for me. As soon as I appeared, he closed the +door and whispered:</p> + +<p>“Well, did you feel it, too?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span></p> + +<p>I felt smothered. I could scarcely articulate.</p> + +<p>“He was there—at that table—unless we are going mad.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause and then I resumed, more calmly:</p> + +<p>“You know, Rouletabille, that it is quite possible that we are going +mad. This phantasm of Larsan will land us all in a madhouse yet! We +have been shut up here only two days and see the state we are in!”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille interrupted me.</p> + +<p>“No, no; I felt him. He is there. I could have touched him! But +where—but when? Since I came into that room, I have known that it was +not necessary for me to go further. I will not fall into his trap. I +will not go and look for him outside the castle even though I have seen +him outside with my own eyes—even though you saw him with yours.”</p> + +<p>All in a moment he seemed to grow perfectly calm, passed his hand +across his eyebrows, lighted his pipe and said, as he had so often said +before, in happier hours when his reasoning powers, which were yet +ignorant of the ties which united him to the Lady in Black, were not +disturbed by the tumult of his heart:</p> + +<p>“Let us reason it out!”</p> + +<p>And he returned on the instant to that argument which had already +served us and which he repeated again and again to himself (in order +that, he said, he should not be lured away by the outer appearance +of things): “Do not look for Larsan in that place where he reveals +himself; seek for him everywhere else where he hides himself.”</p> + +<p>This he followed up with the supplementary argument:</p> + +<p>“He never shows himself where he seems to be except to prevent us from +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span> +seeing him where he really is.”</p> + +<p>And he resumed:</p> + +<p>“Ah! the outer appearance of things! Look here, Sainclair! There are +moments when, for the sake of reasoning clearly, I want to get rid of +my eyes! Let us get rid of our eyes, Sainclair, for five minutes—just +five minutes, and, perhaps, we shall see more clearly.”</p> + +<p>He seated himself, placed his pipe on the table, buried his face in his +hands and said:</p> + +<p>“Now, I have no eyes. Tell me, Sainclair—<i>who is within these +walls?</i>”</p> + +<p>“What do I see within these walls?” I echoed stupidly.</p> + +<p>“No, no! You have no eyes at all; you see nothing. Enumerate them +without seeing. Count them ALL.”</p> + +<p>“There is, first of all, you and I,” I said, understanding, at last, +what he wished to reach.</p> + +<p>“Very well.”</p> + +<p>“Neither you nor I,” I continued, “is Larsan.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Why?” I echoed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, why. Tell me. You must give a reason why you believe so. +I acknowledge that I am not Larsan; I am sure of that, for I am +Rouletabille; but, face to face with Rouletabille, tell me why you +cannot be Larsan?”</p> + +<p>“Because you saw him——”</p> + +<p>“Idiot!” exclaimed Rouletabille closing his eyes in with his clasped +hands more firmly than before. “I have no eyes. I can’t see anything! +If Jerry, the croupier at Monte Carlo, had not seen the Comte de Maupas +sit down at his table, he would have sworn that the man who picked +up the cards was Ballmeyer! If Noblet at the garrison had not found +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> +himself face to face one evening at the Troyons, with a man whom he +recognized as the Vicomte Drouet d’Eslon, he would have sworn that +the man whom he came to arrest and whom he did not arrest because he +had <i>seen</i> him, was Ballmeyer. If Inspector Giraud, who knew the +Comte de Motteville as well as you know me, had not <i>seen</i> him one +afternoon at the race course at Longchamps, chatting with two of his +friends—had not <i>seen</i>, I say, the Comte de Motteville, he would +have arrested Ballmeyer. Ah, you see, Sainclair!” ejaculated the lad in +a voice shaken with sobs, “my father was born before I was! One will +have to be very strong and very shrewd to capture my father!”</p> + +<p>The words were uttered so despairingly that the little force of +reasoning I possessed vanished completely. I threw out my hands before +me, a gesture which Rouletabille did not see, for he saw nothing.</p> + +<p>“No—no! It isn’t necessary to <i>see</i> any of them!” he repeated. +“Neither you, nor M. Stangerson, nor M. Darzac, nor Arthur Rance, nor +Old Bob, nor Prince Galitch. But we must know some good reason why each +of these cannot be Larsan. Only when that is accomplished shall I be +able to breathe freely behind these stone walls!”</p> + +<p>There was no freedom in my breathing. We could hear, under the arch of +the postern, the regular steps of Mattoni as he kept guard.</p> + +<p>“Well, how about the servants?” I asked, with an effort. “Mattoni and +the others?”</p> + +<p>“I am absolutely certain that none of them was absent from the Fort of +Hercules when Larsan appeared to Mme. Darzac and to M. Darzac at the +railway station at Bourg.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> + +<p>“Own up, Rouletabille!” I cried. “That you don’t trouble yourself about +them because none of their eyes were behind the black spectacles.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille tapped the ground impatiently with his foot and said:</p> + +<p>“Be quiet, please, Sainclair. You make me more nervous than my mother.”</p> + +<p>This phrase, uttered in vexation, struck me strangely. I would have +questioned Rouletabille in regard to the state of mind of the Lady in +Black, but he resumed, meditatively:</p> + +<p>“First, Sainclair is not Larsan, because Sainclair was at Trepot with +me while Larsan was at Bourg.</p> + +<p>“Second: Professor Stangerson is not Larsan because he was on his way +from Dijon to Lyons while Larsan was at Bourg. As a fact, reaching +Lyons one minute before him, M. and Mme. Darzac saw him alight from the +train.”</p> + +<p>“But all the others, if it is necessary to prove that they were not at +Bourg at that moment, might be Larsan, for all of them might have been +at Bourg.</p> + +<p>“First M. Darzac was there. Arthur Rance was away from home during +the two days which preceded the arrival of the Professor and of M. +Darzac. He arrived at Mentone just in time to receive them (Mme. Edith +herself informed me in reply to a few careless questions of mine that +her husband had been absent those two days on business). Old Bob made +his journey to Paris. Prince Galitch was not seen at the grottoes nor +outside the Gardens of Babylon.</p> + +<p>“First, let us take M. Darzac.”</p> + +<p>“Rouletabille!” I cried. “That is a sacrilege.”</p> + +<p>“I know it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></p> + +<p>“And it is a piece of the grossest stupidity.”</p> + +<p>“I know that, too. But why?”</p> + +<p>“Because,” I exclaimed, almost beside myself, “Larsan is a genius, +we are aware; he might be able to deceive a detective, a journalist, +a reporter, and even a Rouletabille—he might even deceive a friend, +under some circumstances, I admit. But he could never deceive a +daughter so far that she would take him for her father. That ought +to reassure you as to M. Stangerson. Nor would he deceive a woman to +the point of taking him for her betrothed. And, my friend, Mathilde +Stangerson knew M. Darzac and threw herself into his arms at the +railway station.”</p> + +<p>“And she knew Larsan, too!” added Rouletabille coldly. “Well, my dear +fellow, your reasons are powerful but as I do not know at present what +form the genius of my father has assumed as a disguise, I prefer rather +to bestow, for the sake of supposition, a personality on M. Robert +Darzac which I have never expected to fasten upon him, in order to base +my argument against the possibility a little more solidly: If Robert +Darzac were Larsan, Larsan would not have appeared on several occasions +to Mathilde Stangerson, for it is the apparition of Larsan that has +created a gulf between Mathilde Stangerson and Robert Darzac.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” I cried. “Of what use are such vain reasonings when one has +only to open his eyes—open them, Rouletabille!”</p> + +<p>He opened them.</p> + +<p>“Upon whom?” he asked with a trace of bitterness in his voice. “Upon +Prince Galitch?”</p> + +<p>“Why not? Do you like him, this prince from the Black Lands who sings +Lithuanian folk songs?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span></p> + +<p>“No,” replied Rouletabille. “But he entertains Mme. Edith.”</p> + +<p>And he smiled. I pressed his hand. He acted as though he had not felt +the touch, but I knew that he did.</p> + +<p>“Prince Galitch is a Nihilist and I am not troubled over him in the +least degree,” he said, tranquilly.</p> + +<p>“Are you sure of it? Who told you?”</p> + +<p>“Bernier’s wife, who knows one of the three old women whom Mrs. Edith +told about at luncheon. I have made an investigation. She is the mother +of one of the three men hanged at Kazan for the attempted assassination +of the Emperor. I have seen the photograph of the poor wretches. +The other two old women are the other two mothers. There’s nothing +interesting about that!”</p> + +<p>I could not refrain from a gesture of admiration.</p> + +<p>“Ah, you haven’t lost any time.”</p> + +<p>“Neither has <i>he</i>!” he muttered.</p> + +<p>I folded my arms.</p> + +<p>“And Old Bob?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No, dear boy, no!” scoffed Rouletabille, almost angrily. “Not he, +either. You have noticed that he wears a wig, I suppose. Well, I assure +you that when my father wears a wig, it will fit him.”</p> + +<p>He spoke so mechanically that I rose to leave him, thinking he had no +more to say to me. He stopped me:</p> + +<p>“Wait a minute. We have said nothing of Arthur Rance.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he has not changed at all since we were at Glandier,” I exclaimed. +“That is out of the question.”</p> + +<p>“Always the eyes! Take care of your eyes, Sainclair!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p> + +<p>And he put his hand on my shoulder for a moment as I turned away. +Through my clothing I felt that his flesh was burning. He left the room +and I remained for a moment where I stood, lost in thought. In thought +of what? Of the fact that I had been wrong in saying that Arthur Rance +had not changed at all. For one thing, now, he wore a slight moustache, +something very rarely seen in an American of his type; next, his hair +had grown longer with a lock falling over the forehead. And again, I +had not seen him in two years—and everyone changes in two years—and +again, Arthur Rance, who had used to drink heavily, now tasted only +water. But then, there was Edith—what about Edith? Ah! was I going +insane, I, too? Why do I say, ‘I, too,’ like—like the Lady in Black; +like—like Rouletabille. Did I believe that Rouletabille’s brain was +becoming slightly turned? Ah, the Lady in Black had us all under her +spell. Because the Lady in Black lived in the perpetual fear of her +memories, here were we all trembling with the same horror as she. Fear +is as contagious as the cholera.</p> + + +<p class="nindc space-above2"> +(3) <i>How I Spent My Afternoon up to Five O’clock.</i></p> + +<p>I profited by the fact that I was not on guard to go to my room for +a little rest; but I slept badly and dreamed that Old Bob, M. Rance +and Mme. Edith had formed themselves into a band of brigands who had +sworn death to Rouletabille and myself. And when I awakened under this +pleasant impression and saw the old towers and the old château with +their menacing walls rising before me, I came near thinking that my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span> +nightmare was real and I said to myself half aloud: “It’s a fine place +in which we have taken refuge!” I put my head out of the window. Mrs. +Edith was walking in the Court of the Bold, chatting carelessly with +Rouletabille and twisting the stem of a beautiful rose between her +pretty fingers. I went down immediately. But when I reached the court, +I found no one there. I followed Rouletabille whom I saw on his way to +make his inspection of the Square Tower.</p> + +<p>I found him quite calm and entirely master of himself—and also, +entirely the master of his eyes, which were not closed now but open +wide and keenly on the watch for anything that might turn up. Ah, it +was worth while to see the manner in which he looked at everything +around him! Nothing escaped him. And the Square Tower, the abode of the +Lady in Black, was the object of his constant surveillance.</p> + +<p>And at this point, it seems to me opportune, a few hours before the +moment at which that most mysterious attack occurred, to present to +the reader the interior plan of the inhabited story of the Square +Tower—the story which was on a level with the Court of Charles the +Bold.</p> + +<p>When one entered the Square Tower by the only door (K) one found +himself in a large corridor which had previously formed a part of the +guard room. The guard room had formerly taken up all the space at O, +O′, O″ and O‴ and was shut in by walls of stone which still existed +with their doors opening upon the other rooms of the Old Castle. It +was Mrs. Arthur Rance who in this guard room had had wooden partitions +raised to make quite a large room which she wished to use for a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span> +bathroom. This room, also, was now surrounded by the two passages at +right angles to each other. The door of the room which served as the +lodge of the Berniers was situated at S. It was necessary to pass +in front of this door to reach R, where was the only door affording +admission to the apartment of the Darzacs. One or other of the Berniers +was always in the lodge. And no one save themselves had a right to +enter it. From this lodge one could easily see from a little window at +Y, the door V which opened off the suite of Old Bob. When M. and Mme. +Darzac were not in their apartment, the only key which opened the door +R was in the keeping of the Berniers; and it was a special kind of key +made purposely for the room within the last twenty-four hours in a +place which no one but Rouletabille knew. The young reporter had let no +one into the secret.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille would have wished that the watch which he had had placed +upon the rooms of the Darzacs might have been kept also upon those of +Old Bob, but the latter had opposed such an idea with an earnestness +so comical that it was necessary to abandon it. Old Bob swore that he +would not be treated like a prisoner and he said that on no account +would he give up the privilege of going and coming to his own rooms +when he saw fit without asking the keys from the lodge-keepers. His +door must remain unlocked so that he might go as many times as he liked +to his rooms, whether it might be to his bed chamber or to his sitting +room in the Tower of Charles the Bold, without disturbing or worrying +himself or any one else. On account of his insistence, it was necessary +to leave the door at K open. He demanded it and Mme. Edith upheld her +uncle in so intense a manner and spoke so pertly to Rouletabille that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span> +he knew she was seeking to convey the idea that she believed that +Rouletabille was treating Old Bob with discourtesy at the instigation +of Professor Stangerson’s daughter. So he had not insisted on what he +believed to be best. Mme. Edith had said with her lips pressed together +in a narrow little line: “But, M. Rouletabille, my uncle doesn’t think +that anyone is coming to carry <i>him</i> away!” And Rouletabille had +realized that there was nothing for him to do save to laugh with the +Old Bob over this absurd idea that one could be trying to steal as +they would a pretty woman, the man who had the oldest skull in the +world. And so he had laughed—had laughed even louder than Old Bob, +but had imposed the condition that the door at K should be locked +with a key after 10 o’clock at night and that the key should be left +in the keeping of the Berniers, who would come and open it whenever +anyone desired. Even this was against the inclination of Old Bob, who +sometimes worked very late in the Tower of Charles the Bold. But, +nevertheless, he declared, he would submit to it for he did not wish +to have the appearance of opposing the worthy M. Rouletabille, who had +told him that he was afraid of robbers. For, be it said in exculpation +of Old Bob, that, if he lent himself so ungraciously to the defensive +plans of our young friend it was because it had not been judged +expedient to inform him in regard to the resurrection of Larsan. He +had, of course, heard of the extraordinary series of fatalities which +had formerly occurred in the history of poor Mlle. Stangerson; but he +was a thousand miles from doubting that all her troubles had ceased +long before she had become Mme. Darzac. And then, too, Old Bob was an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span> +egoist, like nearly all savants. Happy because he possessed the oldest +skull in the history of the human race, he could not conceive that the +whole world did not revolve around his treasure.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>Rouletabille, after having politely inquired after the health of Mere +Bernier, who was gathering up potatoes and putting them in a bag at her +side, requested Pere Bernier to open the door of the Darzacs’ room for +us.</p> + +<p>This was the first time that I had entered the apartment. The +atmosphere was almost freezing, and the whole place seemed to me +cold and sombre. The room, very large, was furnished with extreme +simplicity, containing an oak bed, and a toilet table which was placed +at one of the two openings in the wall around which there had formerly +been loopholes. So thick was the wall and so large the opening that +this embrasure (J) formed a kind of little room beside the big one and +of this M. Darzac had made his dressing closet. The second window (J′) +was smaller. The two windows were fitted with bars of iron between +which one could scarcely pass one’s arm. The high bedstead had its back +to the outer wall and had been drawn up against the partition of stone +which separated M. Darzac’s apartment from that of his wife. Opposite +in the angle of the tower was a panel. In the centre of the room +was a reading table on which were some scientific books and writing +materials. And there was an easy chair and three straight-backed +chairs. That was all. It would have been absolutely impossible for +anyone to hide in this chamber, unless, of course, behind the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span> +panel. And then, too, Pere and Mere Bernier had received orders to +look every time they visited the room both behind the panel and in the +closet where M. Darzac hung his clothes, and Rouletabille himself, who, +during the absence of the Darzacs often came to cast his eye around +this room, never neglected to search it thoroughly.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_006" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_006.jpg" width="1000" height="736" alt="The architectural floor plan labeled The Plan of the Inhabited Floor of the Square Tower is depicted with the layout of various rooms within the structure, with each labeled accordingly."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>The Plan of the Inhabited Floor of the Square Tower.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>He did so now, as I stood there. When we at length passed into the +sleeping room of Mme. Darzac, we were absolutely certain that we had +left nothing behind us of which we did not know. As soon as we entered +the room, Bernier, who had followed us, had taken care, as he always +did, to draw the bolt which closed from the inside the only door by +which the apartment communicated with the corridor.</p> + +<p>Mme. Darzac’s room was smaller than that of her husband. But it was +bright and well lighted from the way that the windows were placed. As +soon as we set foot over the threshold, I saw Rouletabille turn pale +and he turned to me and said:</p> + +<p>“Sainclair, do you perceive the perfume of the Lady in Black?”</p> + +<p>I did not. I perceived nothing at all. The window, barred, like all the +others which looked out on the sea, was wide open and a light breeze +rustled the hangings which had been drawn in front of a set of hooks +for gowns which had been placed in one corner. The other corner was +occupied by the bed. The hooks were placed so high that the gowns and +peignoir which they held were covered by the hangings in front scarcely +more than half way down, so that it would have been entirely out of +the question for any person to conceal himself there without leaving +his legs exposed to view from the knees to the feet. Nor would anyone +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span> +have been able to hide in the corner where the portmanteaux and trunks +were placed, although, nevertheless, Rouletabille examined it with the +greatest care. There was no panel in this room. Toilet table, bureau, +an easy chair, two other chairs, and the four walls between which there +was no one but ourselves, as we could have sworn by all that we held +most sacred.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille, after having looked under the bed, gave the signal for +departure and motioned us from the room. He lingered for a moment, +but no longer. Bernier locked the door with the tiny key which he +put in his inside pocket and tightly buttoned his coat over it. We +made the tour of the corridors and also that of Old Bob’s apartment +which consisted of a bedroom and sitting room as easy to examine and +as incapable of hiding anyone as those of the Darzacs. No one was in +the suite, which was furnished rather carelessly, the chief article +noticeable being an almost empty book case with the doors standing +open. When we left the room Mere Bernier brought up her chair and +placed it on the threshold where she could see clearly and still go on +with her work, which seemed to be always that of paring potatoes.</p> + +<p>We entered the rooms occupied by the Berniers and found them like all +the others. The other stories were inhabited and communicated with the +ground floor by a little inner stairway which began at the angle O′ +and ascended to the summit of the tower. A trap door in the ceiling +of the Berniers’ room closed this stairway. Rouletabille asked for a +hammer and nails and nailed up the trap door, thus making the stairway +unusable.</p> + +<p>One might say, in short and in fact, that nothing escaped Rouletabille +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span> +and that when we had made the rounds of the Square Tower we had left no +one behind us save M. and Mme. Bernier. One would have said, too, that +there could have been no human being in the apartment of the Darzacs +before Bernier, a few minutes later, opened the door to M. Darzac +himself as I am now about to relate.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>It was about five minutes before five o’clock when, leaving Bernier in +his corridor in front of the door of the Darzacs’ room, Rouletabille +and myself found ourselves again in the Court of the Bold.</p> + +<p>At that moment we climbed to the platform of the ancient tower at +B″. We seated ourselves upon the parapet, our eyes looking down to +the ground, attracted by the echoes of the Rochers Rouges. At that +moment, we noticed upon the edge of the Barma Grande which opened its +mysterious mouth in the flaming face of Baousse-Raousse, the disturbed +and wrathful countenance of Old Bob. His shadow was the only dark thing +about. The red cliffs rose from the waters with such a vivid radiance +that one might have readily believed that they were still glowing +with the same fires which are found in the interior of the earth. By +what a prodigious anachronism it was that this modern scholar with +his coat and hat in the height of fashion should be moving about, +grotesque and ghoulish, in front of this cavern three hundred thousand +years old formed by the ardent lava to serve as the first roof for +the first family in the first days of the world! Why this sinister +gravedigger in this beautiful corner of the earth? We could see him +brandishing his skull as he had done at the table and we could hear +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span> +him laugh—laugh—laugh! Ah, his laughter made us ill even to think of +it! It tore our ears and our hearts.</p> + +<p>From Old Bob our attention was drawn to M. Darzac, who was coming +through the postern of the gardener and crossing the Court of the +Bold. He did not see us. Ah, he was not laughing! Rouletabille felt +the deepest pity for him for he saw that he was at the end of his +endurance. In the afternoon he had said to my friend, who now repeated +the words to me: “Eight days is too much! I do not believe that I can +bear this torment for eight days!”</p> + +<p>“And where would you go?” Rouletabille had asked him.</p> + +<p>“To Rome,” he had replied. Evidently Professor Stangerson’s daughter +would accompany him nowhere else and Rouletabille believed that it was +the idea that the Pope could arrange the affair which was driving him +wild with grief that had put the journey to Rome into the mind of poor +M. Darzac. Poor, poor M. Darzac! No, in truth, his face wore no smile.</p> + +<p>We followed him with our eyes to the door of the Square Tower. We could +see from his looks that he could endure no more. His head was moodily +bent toward the ground; his hands were in his pockets. He had the air +of a man fatigued and disgusted with the whole world. Yes, with his +hands buried in his pockets, he looked out of humor with everything. +But, patience! he will take his hands out of his pockets and one will +not smile at him always. I confess that I smiled. Well, M. Darzac a +little after this gave me cause to experience the most frightful thrill +of terror which could freeze human bones! And I did not smile then.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span></p> + +<p>M. Darzac went straight to the Square Tower, where, of course, he found +Bernier, who opened the door for him. As Bernier had been keeping +constant guard before the door of the room, as he had kept the key in +his pocket and as we had proven by our investigation that the place was +empty when we had left it, we had established the fact that <i>when M. +Darzac entered his room, there could be no one else there</i>. And this +is the truth.</p> + +<p>Everything that I have said could have been sworn to “after” by each +one of us. If I tell it to you “before,” it is that I am haunted by the +mystery which lurks in the shadow and makes ready to reveal itself.</p> + +<p>At the moment that we saw M. Darzac go to his room, we heard a clock +strike five.</p> + + +<p class="nindc space-above2"> +(4) <i>What Happened from Five O’clock that Night Until the Moment +When the Attack on the Square Tower Began.</i></p> + +<p>Rouletabille and I remained chatting, or, rather, trying to reason +things out, upon the platform of the Tower B for another hour. +Suddenly, my friend struck me a little tap on the shoulder and +exclaimed, “For my part, I think—” and then, without completing the +sentence, he started for the Square Tower. I followed him.</p> + +<p>I was a thousand miles from guessing what he thought. He thought of +Mere Bernier’s bag of potatoes which he emptied out on the white floor +of the room to the great amazement of the good woman; then, satisfied +with this act which evidently corresponded to the state of his mind, he +returned with me to the Court of the Bold, while, behind us, we could +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span> +hear Pere Bernier laughing as he picked up the potatoes.</p> + +<p>As we reached the court we saw the face of Mme. Darzac appearing for a +moment at the window of the room occupied by her father on the first +story of “la Louve.”</p> + +<p>The heat had become insupportable. We were threatened with a violent +storm and we believed that it would begin to lighten immediately.</p> + +<p>Ah, how much the storm would relieve us, we thought. The sea had a +thick and heavy quietude as though it had been saturated with oil. +The sea was heavy and the air was heavy and our hearts were heavy. No +one or nothing on the earth or in the heavens was lighter than Old +Bob, whose form had appeared again at the edge of the Barma Grande +and who was still moving around agitatedly. One would have said that +he was dancing. No, he was making a speech! To whom? We leaned over +the railing to see. There was apparently some one upon the strand to +whom Old Bob was addressing some long-winded scientific discourse. But +the palm leaves hid his auditor from us. Finally, the listener moved +and advanced, and approached the “black professor,” as Rouletabille +called him. And we saw that Old Bob’s congregation was composed of two +persons. One was Mme. Edith—we could easily recognize her with her +languishing graces, clinging like a vine to her husband’s arm. To her +husband’s arm! But this was not her husband? Who, then, was the young +man upon whom Mme. Edith was playing off so many pretty airs?</p> + +<p>Rouletabille turned around, looking for someone of whom to make +inquiries—either Mattoni or Bernier. We saw Bernier upon the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span> +threshold of the door of the Square Tower and Rouletabille beckoned +him. Bernier approached and his eye followed the direction indicated by +Rouletabille’s finger.</p> + +<p>“Who is that with Mme. Rance?” asked the young reporter.</p> + +<p>“The young man?” responded Bernier without hesitation. “That is Prince +Galitch.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille and I looked at each other. It is true that we had never +seen Prince Galitch walking at a distance, but I would not have +imagined that his manner of walking would be like this, and he had not +seemed to me to be so tall. Rouletabille understood my thoughts, I +knew. He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“All right,” he said to Bernier. “Thanks.”</p> + +<p>And we continued to gaze at Mme. Edith and her Prince.</p> + +<p>“I can only say one thing,” said Bernier as he turned to leave us. +“And that is that I don’t care for this prince at all. He is too soft +spoken and too blonde and his eyes are too blue. They say that he is a +Russian. That may be, but there are some who leave the country because +they have to. But he comes and goes in a strange fashion and takes no +leave beforehand. The time before the last that he was invited here +to luncheon Madame and Monsieur waited and waited for him and dared +not begin without him. Well, after an hour or two they received a +wire, begging them to excuse him because he had missed the train. The +dispatch was sent from Moscow.”</p> + +<p>And Bernier, chuckling, returned to his vantage post.</p> + +<p>Our eyes remained fixed upon the beach. Mme. Edith and her prince +continued their stroll toward the grotto of Romeo and Juliet; Old Bob +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span> +suddenly ceased to gesticulate, descended from the Barma Grande and +came toward the château, entered the gate, crossed the outer court, +and we saw, even from the height of the platform of the tower, that he +had ceased to smile. Old Bob’s face had become sadness itself. He was +silent. He passed beneath the arch of the postern. We called him, he +did not seem to hear us. He carried before him in the crook of his arm +his “oldest skull in the world,” and all at once we saw him fly into +the fiercest of passions. He addressed the worst of insults to the +skull. He descended into the Round Tower and we heard the mutterings +of his wrath for moments after he was out of sight. Then heavy blows +resounded. One would have said that he was hurling himself against the +wall.</p> + +<p>At this moment six strokes resounded from the old clock of the New +Castle. And at almost the same instant a clap of thunder echoed over +the sea. And the line of the horizon grew black.</p> + +<p>Then a groom of the stables, Walter, a brave, stupid fellow who was +incapable of a single idea, but who had shown for years past the +blind devotion of a brute toward his master, Old Bob, passed under +the postern of the gardener, entered into the Court of Charles the +Bold, and came to us. He held in his hand a letter which he gave to +Rouletabille. He handed me another and continued on his way toward the +Square Tower.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille, calling after him, inquired what errand was taking him to +the Square Tower. He answered that he was taking the mail for M. and +Mme. Darzac to Pere Bernier. He spoke in English for Walter understood +no other language; but we spoke it well enough to understand him and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span> +make him understand. Walter was charged with distributing the mail +because Pere Jacques had no right to leave his lodge on any account. +Rouletabille took the letters from the man’s hands and said to him that +he would take it in himself.</p> + +<p>A few drops of water had begun to fall.</p> + +<p>We turned to the door of M. Darzac’s room. Bernier was smoking his pipe +in the corridor, sitting astride a chair.</p> + +<p>“Is M. Darzac still there?” asked Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“He hasn’t stirred since he went in,” Bernier replied.</p> + +<p>We knocked. We heard the heavy bolt drawn from the inside. (These bolts +can only be used by the person within the room.)</p> + +<p>M. Darzac was writing letters when we entered. He had been seated +beside the little reading table facing the door R.</p> + +<p>Now mark well all our movements. Rouletabille complained that the +letter which he held in his hand confirmed the telegram which he had +received in the morning and pressed him to return to Paris. His paper +insisted upon his proceeding at once to Russia.</p> + +<p>M. Darzac read indifferently the two or three letters which we had +brought him and put them in his pocket. I held out to Rouletabille +the letter which I had received. It was from my friend in Paris who, +after having given me some important details regarding the departure +of Brignolles, informed me that the laboratory assistant had left his +address for mail to be forwarded to Sospel, the Hotel des Alps. This +was extremely interesting and M. Darzac and Rouletabille were greatly +excited over it. We decided to go to Sospel as soon as it could be +arranged and, after talking of the matter for a few minutes, we went +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span> +out of the room. The door of Mme. Darzac’s sleeping room was not +closed. Here is what we noticed as we passed out:</p> + +<p>I have mentioned that Mme. Darzac was not in her own room. As soon as +we made our exit, Pere Bernier immediately—immediately, I say, for I +saw him—turned the key in the lock and then took it out and put it in +his pocket—in the little inside pocket of his waistcoat. Ah, I can +still see him putting the key into his inside pocket—I swear it!—and +he buttoned his coat over it!</p> + +<p>Then the three of us went out of the Square Tower, leaving Pere Bernier +in his corridor like the good watch dog that he never ceased to be +until the last day of his life. One may be a poacher and a good watch +dog into the bargain, you know. Even watch dogs poach sometimes. And I +bear witness here and now, among all the events which followed, Pere +Bernier always did his duty and never told lies. And his wife, Mere +Bernier, was an excellent servant, faithful, intelligent and not too +talkative. Since she has been a widow, I have had her in my service. +She will be glad to read here the tribute which I pay to her and to her +husband. They both deserved it.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>It was about half past six o’clock when, in emerging from the +Square Tower, we went to pay a visit to Old Bob in the Round Tower, +Rouletabille, M. Darzac and I. As soon as we entered the low basement +M. Darzac uttered an exclamation of surprise and indignation at seeing +the destruction which had been wrought upon a wash drawing upon which +he had been working ever since the evening before in the endeavor to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span> +distract his mind, and which represented the plan for a great scaling +ladder for the Fort of Hercules of the kind which had existed in the +Fifteenth Century and of which Arthur Rance had shown us the pictures. +This drawing had been gashed with a knife and paint had been smeared +over it. He endeavored in vain to obtain some explanation from Old Bob, +who was kneeling beside a box containing a skeleton and was so wrapped +up in a shoulder blade that he did not even answer us.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>I desire here, by way of parenthesis, to ask the pardon of the reader +for the mathematical precision with which for the last few pages, I +have enumerated our every act and movement, but I will assure him, once +and for all, that even the smallest circumstances have in reality a +considerable importance, for everything which we did at this time was +done, though alas, we did not guess it, on the brink of a precipice.</p> + +<p>As Old Bob seemed to be in a churlish humor, we left him—that is, +Rouletabille and myself did. M. Darzac remained gazing at his spoiled +drawing, but thinking, doubtless, of altogether different things.</p> + +<p>As we went out of the Round Tower, Rouletabille and I raised our eyes +to the sky which was rapidly becoming covered with great, black clouds. +The tempest was near at hand. In the meantime, the air seemed to grow +more and more stifling.</p> + +<p>“I am going to lie down in my room,” I said. “I can’t stand any more of +this. Perhaps it may be cooler there with all the windows open.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille followed me into the New Castle. Suddenly, as we reached +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span> +the first landing of our winding staircase, he stopped me:</p> + +<p>“Ah,” he said in a low voice; “<i>she</i> is there!”</p> + +<p>“Who?”</p> + +<p>“The Lady in Black. Can’t you smell the perfume?”</p> + +<p>And he hid himself behind a door, motioning me to continue without +waiting for him. I obeyed.</p> + +<p>What was my amazement in opening the door of my room to find myself +face to face with Mathilde!</p> + +<p>She uttered a low cry and disappeared in the shadow, gliding away +like a surprised bird. I rushed to the staircase and leaned over the +balustrade. She swept down the steps like a ghost. She soon gained the +ground floor and I saw below me the face of Rouletabille, who, leaning +over the rail of the first landing, looked at her, too.</p> + +<p>He mounted the steps to my side.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my God!” he cried. “What did I tell you! Poor, poor soul!”</p> + +<p>He seemed to be in the greatest agitation.</p> + +<p>“I asked M. Darzac for eight days!” he went on. “But this thing must be +ended in twenty-four hours or I shall no longer have strength to act.”</p> + +<p>He entered my room and threw himself into a chair as if exhausted. “I +am smothering!” he moaned. “I can’t breathe!” He tore his collar away +from his throat. “Water!” he entreated. “Water!”</p> + +<p>I started to fetch some, but he stopped me.</p> + +<p>“No—I want the water from the heavens! I must have it!” and he waved +his hands toward the dark skies from which huge drops were slowly +beginning to fall.</p> + +<p>For ten minutes he remained stretched out in the chair, thinking. What +surprised me was that he asked no question or uttered no conjecture as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span> +to what the Lady in Black had been seeking in my room. I would not have +known how to answer, if he had done so. At length, he rose.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“To take the guard at the postern.”</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>He would not even come in to dinner and sent word to have some soup +brought out to him as though he were a soldier. The dinner was served +in la Louve at half past eight. Darzac, who came to the table from Old +Bob’s workroom, said that the latter refused to dine also. Mme. Edith, +fearing that her uncle might be ill, went immediately to the Round +Tower. She would not even allow her husband to accompany her—indeed, +she seemed to be much out of humor with him.</p> + +<p>The Lady in Black came in on the arm of her father. She cast on me a +look of sorrowful reproach which disturbed me greatly. Her eyes seemed +never to wander from me.</p> + +<p>It was a gloomy meal enough. No one ate much. Arthur Rance looked every +moment in the direction of the Lady in Black. All the windows were +open. The atmosphere was suffocating. A flash of lightning and a heavy +clap of thunder came in rapid succession—and then, the deluge! A sigh +of relief issued from our overcharged breasts. Mme. Edith reappeared +just in time to escape being drenched by the furious rain which beat +down like cannon balls upon the peninsula.</p> + +<p>The young woman told us in excited tones and with her hands clasped, +how she had found Old Bob bending over his desk with his head buried +in his hands. He had refused to have anything to say to her. She had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span> +spoken to him affectionately and he had treated her like a bear. Then, +as he had obstinately held his hands to his ears, she had pricked one +of his fingers with a little pin set with rubies which she used to +fasten the lace scarf which she wore in the evening over her shoulders. +Her uncle, she said, had turned upon her like a madman, had snatched +the little pin from her and thrown it upon the desk. And then he had +spoken to her—“brutally, rudely as he had never done before in his +life!” she ejaculated. “Get out of here and leave me alone!” was what +he had said to her. Mme. Edith had been so much pained that she went +out without saying a word, promising herself, however, that she would +not soon set foot again in the Round Tower. But she had turned her head +for a last look at her old uncle and had been almost struck dumb by +what she saw.</p> + +<p>The “oldest skull in the history of the human race” was upon the +desk, and Old Bob, a handkerchief stained with blood in his hand, was +spitting in the skull. He had always treated it with the most severe +respect and had insisted that others should do the same. Edith had +hurried away, almost frightened.</p> + +<p>Robert Darzac reassured her by telling her that what she had taken for +blood was only paint and that Old Bob’s skull had been spattered by the +paints which had been used in the wash drawing.</p> + +<p>I left the table to hurry out to Rouletabille and also to escape +from Mathilde’s glances. What had the Lady in Black been doing in my +bedroom? I was not to wait long to know!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span></p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>When I started out the thunder was pealing loudly and the rain falling +with redoubled force. It took me only one bound to reach the postern. +No Rouletabille was there! I found him on the terrace B″, watching the +entrance to the Square Tower and receiving the full strength of the +storm at his back.</p> + +<p>I entreated him to take shelter under the arch.</p> + +<p>“Leave me alone!” he said impatiently. “Leave me alone. This is the +deluge. Ah, how good it is! how good—all this anger of the heavens! +Have you ever had a desire to roar with the thunder? I have—and I am +roaring now. Listen, while I cry out—alas! alas! alas! My voice is +stronger than the thunder!”</p> + +<p>And he plunged into the darkness making the shadows resound with his +savage clamors. I believed this time that he had surely gone mad! But +in my heart I knew that the unhappy lad was breathing forth in these +indistinct articulations of frightful anguish the misery that burned +him, and which he was constantly trying to hinder from burning up the +heart and the soul in his body—the misery of being the son of Larsan.</p> + +<p>I turned helplessly and as I did so, I felt a hand seize my wrist and a +dark form cried out to me above the tempest:</p> + +<p>“Where is he?”</p> + +<p>It was Mme. Darzac who was also seeking Rouletabille. A new peal of +thunder burst and we heard the boy in his mad delirium hurling wild +shouts of defiance to the heavens. She heard him. She saw him. We were +drenched with water from the rain and the breaking of the sea on the +terrace. Mme. Darzac’s clothing clung around her like a rag and her +skirt dripped as she walked. I took the wretched woman’s arm and held +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span> +her up, for I saw that she was about to fall, and at that moment, in +the midst of that terrible unchaining of the elements, in that mad +tempest, under this terrible downpour on the breast of the raging sea, +I all at once breathed the perfume—the odor so sweet and penetrating +and haunting that its fragrance has remained with me ever since—the +Perfume of the Lady in Black. Ah, I understood now how Rouletabille had +remembered it all these years.</p> + +<p>Yes, it was a fragrance full of sadness—something like the perfume of +an isolated flower which has been condemned to be seen by no one but to +blossom for itself all alone. It was a fragrance which set such ideas +as these running through my brain, although I did not analyze them at +the time—a sweet, soft and yet insistent perfume which seemed to steal +away my senses in the midst of this battle of the elements, as soon as +I perceived it. A strange perfume! Surely it was that, for I had seen +the Lady in Black hundreds of times without noticing it, and now that I +had done so, it was everywhere and above all things and I knew that the +memory of it would abide with me while life should last. I understood +how when one had—I will not say smelled but seized (for I do not think +that everyone would have been able to catch the subtle fragrance of the +perfume of the Lady in Black, any more than I myself had done before +this night in which my senses seemed to have become sharpened to the +keenest point)—yes, when one had seized this adorable and captivating +odor, it was for life. And the heart would be perfumed by it, whether +it was the heart of a son, like Rouletabille; or the heart of a lover, +like M. Darzac; or the heart of a villain, like Larsan. No, no—the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span> +knowledge of it could never pass. And now, by some sudden insight, I +seemed to understand Rouletabille and Darzac and Larsan and all the +misfortunes which had attended the daughter of Professor Stangerson.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>There in the night and the tempest, the Lady in Black called aloud to +Rouletabille and he fled from us and rushed further into the night, +shrieking aloud, “The perfume of the Lady in Black! The perfume of the +Lady in Black!”</p> + +<p>The unhappy woman sobbed. She drew me toward the tower. She struck with +desperate hands at the door which Bernier opened to us and her weeping +would have melted the heart of a stone.</p> + +<p>I could only utter the veriest commonplaces, begging her to calm +herself, although I would have given everything I had in the world to +find words which, without betraying anyone, might perhaps have made her +understand my own part in the sorrowful drama which was being played +out between the mother and the child.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she seemed to recover herself in some degree and she motioned +me to enter the little parlor at the right which was just outside the +bed chamber of Old Bob. The door stood open but there we were as much +alone as we could have been in her own room, for we knew that Old Bob +worked late in the Tower of Charles the Bold.</p> + +<p>I can assure you that in my memories of that horrible night the thought +of the moments which I spent in the company of the Lady in Black +are not the least sorrowful. I was put to a proof which I had not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span> +expected, and it was like a blow full in the face when, without even +taking time to speak of the way in which we had been treated by the +elements, Mme. Darzac looked me full in the eyes and demanded: “How +long is it, M. Sainclair, that you were at Trepot?”</p> + +<p>I was struck dumb—overpowered more completely than I had been by the +fury of the storm. And I felt that, at the moment when nature, wearied +out, was beginning to grow more quiet, I was to suffer a more dangerous +assault than that of thunderbolts or lightning flashes. I must, by my +expression, have betrayed the agitation which was aroused in my mind by +this unexpected remark, for I could see by her eyes as she looked at me +that she was aware how deeply I was moved.</p> + +<p>At first I made no answer: then I stammered out some disconnected words +of which I remember nothing, save that they were ridiculous. It is +years now since that night, but as I write I am living over the scene +as if I were a spectator instead of the actor which I actually was, and +as if it were even now going on in front of my eyes.</p> + +<p>There are people who may be drenched to the skin and yet not look in +the least ridiculous. The Lady in Black was one of them. Although, +like myself, she had experienced the full fury of the storm, she was +majestic and beautiful with her dishevelled locks, her bare neck and +magnificent shoulders which, through the thin silk which clothed them +seemed to have merely a light veil thrown across the flesh. She seemed +to be a sublime statue, carved by Phidias from the immortal clay to +which his chisel has given form and beauty. I am well aware that, +even after all the years which have elapsed, my description sounds +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span> +too glowing and I will not linger on the subject. But those who have +known Professor Stangerson’s daughter will understand me, I think, and +I desire, here, with Rouletabille near me, to affirm the sentiments +of respectful admiration which filled my heart at the sight of this +mother, so divinely beautiful, who, in the state of disorder to which +the fearful tempest had brought her, and with her whole heart filled +with agony, was endeavoring to make me break the oath that I had sworn +to the lad who was my friend.</p> + +<p>She took both my hands in hers and said in a voice which I shall never +forget:</p> + +<p>“You are his friend. Tell him, then, that he is not the only one who +has suffered.” And she added with a sob which shook her whole frame:</p> + +<p>“Why will he insist on not telling me the truth!”</p> + +<p>I had not a word to say. What could I have answered? This woman had +always seemed so cold and formal to the world in general and (as I had +thought) to me in particular that it was as if I had not existed for +her, and now she was laying bare her heart before me as though I were +an old friend. And I had breathed the perfume of the Lady in Black.</p> + +<p>Yes, she treated me as an old friend. She told me everything that I +already knew in a few sentences as piteous and as simple as a mother’s +love itself—and she told me other things which Rouletabille had kept +a secret from me. Evidently the game of hide and seek could not have +lasted long. The relationship between them had been guessed by the +one as surely as by the other. Led by a sure instinct Mme. Darzac +had resolved to take means to learn who was this Rouletabille who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span> +had saved her from death and who was of the age of her own son—and +who resembled the lad whom she had mourned as dead. And since her +arrival at Mentone, a letter had reached her containing the proof that +Rouletabille had lied to her in regard to his early life and had never +set foot in any school at Bordeaux. Immediately, she had sought the +youth and had asked for an explanation, but he had hurried away without +replying. But he had seemed disturbed when she spoke to him of Trepot +and of the school at Eu, and the trip which we had made there before +coming to Mentone.</p> + +<p>“How did you know?” I exclaimed, betraying my secret without realizing +that I was doing so.</p> + +<p>She showed no sign of triumph at my involuntary confession, and in a +few words went on to reveal to me her stratagem. That evening when I +had taken her by surprise, it was not the first time that she had been +in my room. My luggage bore the labels of the hotels at which we had +stopped on our recent journey.</p> + +<p>“Why did he not throw himself into my arms when I opened them to him?” +she moaned. “Ah, my God! If he refuses to be Larsan’s son, will he +never consent to be mine!”</p> + +<p>As she told me her story, it seemed to me that Rouletabille had +conducted himself in an atrocious fashion toward this poor woman who +had believed him dead, who had mourned for him in despair, and who, +in the midst of her terrible dread and mortal anguish, experienced a +thrill of the keenest joy in realizing that her son was still alive. +Ah, the poor mother! The evening before, he had mocked at her when she +had cried out to him with all her soul that she had a son and that that +son was he! He had mocked her, even while the tears had streamed down +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span> +his cheeks. I could never have believed that Rouletabille could have +been so cruel or so heartless—or, even, so ill-bred!</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_007" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/i_007.jpg" width="500" height="766" alt="A dramatic scene set in a ruined area with crumbling stone walls and debris on the ground is depicted, where a man, dressed in dark clothing, is running forward with his arms raised, his face showing desperation or fear."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>We could see his figure borne along as on the wind, and +could hear the voice calling, “Mother! Mother!”</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Certainly he behaved in an abominable fashion! He had told her with a +sardonic smile that “he was nobody’s son—not even the son of a thief.” +It was these words that had sent her flying to her room in the Square +Tower and had made her long to die. But she had not found her son only +to give him up so easily and she would—she must have him acknowledge +her!</p> + +<p>I was almost beside myself. I kissed her hands and entreated pardon +for Rouletabille. Here was the result of my friend’s schemes to save +her pain. Under the pretext of saving her from Larsan, he had plunged +a knife into her heart. I felt as though I had no wish to know any +more of the story. I knew too much already and I longed to run away. I +hastened out of the room and called Bernier, who opened the door for +me. I went out of the Square Tower, cursing Rouletabille roundly. I +went to the Court of the Bold to look for him, but found it deserted.</p> + +<p>At the postern gate Mattoni had come to take the ten o’clock watch. +I saw a light in Rouletabille’s room and I hastened up the rickety +stairway of the New Castle and quickly found myself outside his door. I +opened it without knocking. Rouletabille looked up.</p> + +<p>“What do you want, Sainclair?”</p> + +<p>I told him all that I had heard and my opinion of him for his actions +which had so deeply wounded Mme. Darzac.</p> + +<p>“She didn’t tell you everything, my friend,” he replied, coldly. “She +did not tell you that she forbade me to touch that man.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> + +<p>“That is true!” I cried. “I heard her.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what have you come here to tell me then?” he went on, roughly. +“Do you know what she said to me yesterday? She ordered me to go away. +She would rather die than see me take issue <i>against my father</i>.”</p> + +<p>And he laughed—laughed. Such laughter, I hope not to hear again.</p> + +<p>“Against my father! She thinks, I suppose, that he is stronger than I!”</p> + +<p>His face was not a pleasant sight to see as he uttered the words.</p> + +<p>But suddenly it seemed to be transformed and to glow with unearthly +beauty.</p> + +<p>“She is afraid for me!” he said, softly. “And I—I am afraid for +her—only for her. And I do not know my father. And, God help me! I do +not know my mother!”</p> + +<p>At that moment the sound of a shot rang out on the night, followed by +a cry of mortal agony! Ah, it was again the cry that I had heard two +years ago in the “inexplicable gallery.” My hair rose on my scalp and +Rouletabille tottered as though the bullet had struck himself.</p> + +<p>And then he bounded toward the open window, filling the fortress with a +despairing burst of anguish:</p> + +<p>“Mother! Mother! Mother!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br> +THE ATTACK OF THE SQUARE TOWER</h2> +</div> + +<p>I leaped after him and threw my arms around his body, dreading what +he might attempt. There was in that cry, “Mother! Mother! Mother!” +such a madness of despair, a call, or rather, an assurance of coming +aid so beyond the realization of human strength, that I was obliged +to fear that the young fellow had forgotten that he was only a man +and had not the power to fly straight out of the window of the tower +and to traverse, like a bird or a flash of lightning, the black space +which separated him from the crime which had been committed and which +he filled with his frightful cries. Quickly, he turned on me, threw me +off, and precipitated himself wildly, through corridors, apartments, +stairways and courts toward the accursed tower from which had come that +same death cry that we both had heard—a moment ago, and also two years +before when it had resounded through the “inexplicable gallery.”</p> + +<p>As for me, I had thus far only had the time to gaze out of the window, +rooted to my place by the horror of that cry. I was still there when +the door of the Square Tower opened, and in its frame of light, there +appeared the form of the Lady in Black. She was standing upright, +living and unharmed, in spite of that cry of death, but her pale +and ghastly visage reflected a terror like that of death itself. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span> +She stretched out her arms toward the night and the darkness cast +Rouletabille into them, and the arms of the Lady in Black closed around +him and I heard no more only sobs and moans and again the two syllables +which the night repeated over and over, “Mother! Mother!”</p> + +<p>I descended from my tower into the court, my temples throbbing, my +heart beating so fast that it almost stifled me. What I had seen on +the threshold of the Square Tower had not by any means assured me that +nothing terrible had taken place. It was in vain that I attempted to +reason with myself and to say: “Nonsense! At the very moment when we +believed that all was lost, is not, on the contrary, everything found? +Are not the mother and son united?”</p> + +<p>But why, then, this cry of death when she was alive and well? Why that +scream of agony before she had appeared standing on the threshold of +the tower?</p> + +<p>Strange to say, I found no one in the Court of the Bold when I crossed +it. No one then had heard the pistol shot! No one had heard the cries! +Where was M. Darzac? Where was Old Bob? Was he still working in the +lower basement of the Round Tower? I might have believed so, for I +perceived a light in the window of the tower. But Mattoni—Mattoni—had +he heard nothing, either?—Mattoni, who kept watch at the postern of +the gardener? And the Berniers? I saw neither of them. And the door +of the Square Tower still stood open. Ah, the soft murmur, “Mother! +Mother! Mother!” And I heard her voice answer back, tenderly, though +choked with sobs, “My boy! My little one!” They had not even taken the +precaution to close the door of Old Bob’s parlor. It was into that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span> +room where I had talked with her a little while before that she had led +her child.</p> + +<p>And they were there alone, clasped in each other’s arms, repeating over +and over again, “Mother!” and “My little one!” And then they murmured +broken sentences, phrases without end—with the divine foolishness of a +mother and her child. “Then, you were not dead!” That was sufficient to +make them both fall to sobbing. And then, how they embraced each other, +as though to make up for all the years they had lost. I heard him +murmur, “You know, mamma, it was not true that I stole!” And one would +have thought from the sound of his voice that he was still the little +lad of nine years—my poor Rouletabille. “No, my darling—you never +stole! My little boy! my little boy!” Ah, it was not my fault that I +heard—but my heart was torn in two as I listened.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>But where was Bernier? I entered the lodge from the left, for I wished +to know the meaning of the cry and of the shot which I had heard.</p> + +<p>Mere Bernier was at the back of the room which was lighted only by +a tiny taper. She was like a black bundle on a sofa. She must have +been in bed when the shot was heard and she had hastily donned some +clothing. I picked up the taper and brought it near. Her features were +distorted with fear.</p> + +<p>“Where is Bernier?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“He is there,” she replied, trembling.</p> + +<p>“There. Where is that?”</p> + +<p>But she made no answer.</p> + +<p>I took a few steps toward the interior of the lodge and I stumbled. I +bent down to know what I had stepped upon and found out that it was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span> +Mere Bernier’s potatoes. I lowered the light and looked at the floor; +it was strewn with potatoes; they had rolled everywhere. Could it be +that Mme. Bernier had not gathered them up after Rouletabille had +emptied out the bag?</p> + +<p>I arose and turned to Mere Bernier.</p> + +<p>“Someone fired off a pistol!” I said. “What has happened?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” she responded.</p> + +<p>And, at that moment, I heard someone open the door of the tower and +Pere Bernier stood on the threshold.</p> + +<p>“Ah! it is you, M. Sainclair?”</p> + +<p>“Bernier! What has happened?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing very serious, M. Sainclair, I am glad to say.” (But his +voice was too palpably endeavoring to sound strong and brave for me to +feel as reassured as he was trying to make me!) “An accident without +any importance whatever. M. Darzac, while placing his revolver on the +stand beside his bed, accidentally fired it off. Madame, naturally, was +frightened, and screamed; and, as the window of their room was open, +she thought that you and M. Rouletabille might have heard something and +started out to tell you that it was nothing.”</p> + +<p>“M. Darzac has come in, then?”</p> + +<p>“He got here almost as soon as you had left the tower, M. Sainclair. +And the shot was fired almost immediately after he entered his bedroom. +You can guess that I had a pretty fright! I rushed to the door! M. +Darzac opened it, himself. Happily, no one was injured!”</p> + +<p>“Did Mme. Darzac go to her own room as soon as I left the tower?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> + +<p>“At once. She heard M. Darzac when he came in and followed him directly +to their apartments. They went in almost at the same moment.”</p> + +<p>“And M. Darzac? Is he still in his room?”</p> + +<p>“Here he is now.”</p> + +<p>I turned and saw Robert Darzac; despite the gloom of the place, I saw +that his face was ghastly pale. He made me a sign and then said very +calmly and quietly:</p> + +<p>“Listen, Sainclair! Bernier told you about our little accident. It is +not worth mentioning to anyone, unless someone should speak of it to +you. The others, perhaps, have not heard the shot. It would be useless +to frighten all these good people; don’t you think so? Now I have a +little favor to ask of you.”</p> + +<p>“Speak, my friend,” I bade him. “Whatever it is, I will do it: you know +that without my saying so. Make any use of me that you like.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks; but it is only to persuade Rouletabille to go to bed; when +he is gone, my wife will calm herself and will try to get the rest +that she needs. Every one of us has need of rest—and of calmness, +Sainclair. We all need repose—and silence.”</p> + +<p>“Surely, my friend; you may count upon me.”</p> + +<p>I pressed his hand with a force which attested my sentiments toward +him; I was persuaded that both he and Bernier were concealing something +from us—something very grave!</p> + +<p>Darzac reëntered his room and I went to find Rouletabille in the +sitting room of Old Bob.</p> + +<p>But upon the threshold of the apartment, I jostled against the Lady +in Black and her son who were passing out. They were both so silent +and wore an expression so unexpected to me who had overheard their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span> +exclamations of love and joy only a few moments before that I stood +before them without saying a word or making a movement. The extremity +which induced Mme. Darzac to leave Rouletabille so soon under such +extraordinary circumstances as those which had attended their reunion, +puzzled me so greatly that I could not find words to say what I +thought and the submission of Rouletabille in taking leave of her so +quickly amazed me. Mathilde pressed a kiss upon the lad’s forehead and +murmured: “Good-night, my darling,” in a voice so soft, so sweet and +at the same time so solemn that it seemed to me that it must resemble +the leave-taking of one who was about to die. Rouletabille, without +answering his mother, took my arm and led me out of the tower. He was +trembling like a leaf.</p> + +<p>It was the Lady in Black herself who closed the door of the Square +Tower. I was sure that something strange was passing within those +walls. The account of the pistol shot which had been given me satisfied +me not at all; and it is not to be doubted that Rouletabille would have +agreed with me if his reasoning powers and his heart had not been giddy +from the scene which had taken place between the Lady in Black and +himself. And then, after all, how did I know that Rouletabille did not +agree with me? We had scarcely gotten outside the Square Tower before +I demanded of Rouletabille the meaning of his strange manner. I drew +him into that corner of the parapet which joins the Square Tower to the +Round Tower in the angle formed by the jutting out of the Square Tower +upon the court.</p> + +<p>The reporter, who had allowed me as docilely as a little child to lead +him wherever I would, spoke to me in a low tone:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span></p> + +<p>“Sainclair, I have sworn to my mother that I will see nothing or hear +nothing of that which may pass this night in the Square Tower. It is +the first promise that I have made to my mother, Sainclair; but I will +break it for her sake just as I would give up my hope of heaven for +her. I must see and I must hear!”</p> + +<p>We were at that moment not far from a window in which a light was +still burning and which opened upon the sitting room of Old Bob and +sloped out upon the sea. This window was not closed, and it was this, +doubtless, which had permitted us to hear so distinctly in spite of +the thickness of the walls of the tower, the pistol shot and the +cry of agony that had followed it. From the spot where we were now +stationed, we could see nothing through this window, but was it not +something to be able to hear? The storm was past, but the waters were +not yet appeased and the waves broke on the rocks of the peninsula +with a violence that would have rendered the approach of any vessel +impossible. The thought of a vessel crossed my mind because I believed +for an instant that I could see the shadow of a vessel of some sort +appearing or disappearing in the gloom. But what could it be? Evidently +a delusion of my mind which beheld hostile shades everywhere—an +illusion of a mind which was assuredly more agitated than the waters +themselves.</p> + +<p>We stood there, motionless, for more than five minutes, before we heard +a sigh—ah, how long it was, that mournful sound!—a groan, deep as an +expiration, like a moan of agony, a heavy sob, like the last breath of +a departing soul—which reached our ears from that window, and brought +the sweat of terror to our brows. And then, nothing more—nothing +except the intermittent sobbings of the sea.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span></p> + +<p>And suddenly the light in the window went out. The outline of the +Square Tower blended with the blackness of the night.</p> + +<p>My friend and I grasped each other’s hand as if instinctively, +commanding each other, by this mute communication, to remain motionless +and silent. <i>Someone was dying, there, in that tower!</i> Someone +whom they had hidden. Why? And who? Someone who was neither M. Darzac +nor Mme. Darzac, nor Pere Bernier, nor Mere Bernier, nor—almost beyond +the shadow of a doubt, Old Bob; <i>someone who could not have been in +the tower</i>.</p> + +<p>Leaning against the parapet to support ourselves, our necks stretched +toward that window through which there had come to us that sigh of +agony, we listened. A quarter of an hour passed thus—it might have +been a century! Rouletabille pointed out to me the window of his own +room in the New Castle which was still illuminated. I understood: it +was necessary to extinguish this light and return. I took a thousand +precautions. Five minutes later, I was back again with Rouletabille. +There was now no other light in the Court of the Bold than the feeble +ray which told of the late vigil of Old Bob in the lower basement of +the Round Tower and the light at the gardener’s postern where Mattoni +was standing sentinel. In truth, considering the positions which they +occupied, one might easily understand how it was that neither Old Bob +nor Mattoni had heard anything that had passed in the Square Tower, nor +even, in the heart of the storm, could the clamors of Rouletabille have +reached their ears. The walls of the postern were heavy and Old Bob was +entombed in a veritable subterranean cavern.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span></p> + +<p>I had scarcely time to steal back to Rouletabille in the corner of +the parapet, the post of observation which he had not quitted, before +we distinctly heard the door of the Square Tower moving softly upon +its hinges. As I attempted to lean further out of my corner, and see +further down into the court, Rouletabille pushed me back and allowed +only his own head to look over the wall; but as he was leaning far +over, I allowed myself to violate his command and looked over his head; +and this is what I saw.</p> + +<p>First, Pere Bernier, perfectly recognizable, in spite of the darkness, +who came out of the tower and directed his steps noiselessly to the +gardener’s postern. In the middle of the court, he paused, looked up +at the side where our windows were, and then returned to the side of +the court and made a signal which we interpreted as a sign that all +was well. To whom was this signal addressed? Rouletabille leaned still +further over; but he quickly retreated, pushing me back with him.</p> + +<p>When we dared to look out in the court again, no one was there. But in +a few moments, we again beheld Pere Bernier (or, rather, we heard him +first, for there ensued between him and Mattoni a brief conversation +the echoes of which were carried to us). And then we heard something +which climbed under the arch of the gardener’s postern and Pere Bernier +reappeared with the black and softly rolling form of a carriage beside +him. We could see that it was the little English cart, drawn by Toby, +Arthur Rance’s pony. The Court of the Bold was of beaten earth and the +little equipage made no more sound than as if it were gliding over a +carpet. Toby was so intelligent and so quiet that one would have said +that he had received his instructions from Pere Bernier. The latter, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span> +reaching, at length, the “oubliette,” raised again his face toward our +windows, and then, still holding Toby by the bridle, came to the door +of the Square Tower. Leaving the little equipage before the door, he +entered the tower. A few moments passed by which seemed to us like +hours, particularly to Rouletabille, who was seized with a fit of +trembling which shook his frame like an aspen leaf.</p> + +<p>Pere Bernier reappeared. He crossed the court alone and returned to +the postern. It was then that we were obliged to lean further out +and, certainly, the persons who were now upon the threshold of the +Square Tower might have perceived us, if they had looked up at our +side, but they were not thinking of us. The night had become clear +and a beautiful moon had arisen which threw its rays over the sea and +stretched its radiance across the Court of the Bold. The two persons +who came out of the tower and approached the carriage appeared so +surprised that they almost recoiled at what they saw. But we could +hear the Lady in Black repeating again and again in low, firm tones: +“Courage, Robert, courage! You must be brave now!”</p> + +<p>And Robert Darzac replied in a voice which froze my blood: “It is not +courage which I lack!” He was bending over something which he dragged +before him and then raised in his arms as though it were a heavy burden +and tried to slip under the long seat of the English cart. Rouletabille +had taken off his cap. His teeth were chattering. As well as we could +distinguish, the thing was in a sack. To move this sack M. Darzac +was making the greatest efforts and we heard him breathe a sigh of +exhaustion. Leaning against the wall of the tower, the Lady in Black +watched him without offering any assistance. And, suddenly, at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span> +moment that M. Darzac had succeeded in loading the sack into the cart, +Mathilde pronounced these words in a voice shaken with horror:</p> + +<p>“<i>It is moving.</i>”</p> + +<p>“It is the end!” said M. Darzac, wiping his forehead with his pocket +handkerchief. Then he took Toby by the bridle and started off, making a +sign to the Lady in Black, but she, still leaning against the wall, as +though she had been placed there for some punishment, made no signal in +reply. M. Darzac seemed to us to be quite calm. His figure straightened +up: his step grew firm—one might almost say that his manner was +that of an honest man who has done his duty. Still with the greatest +precaution, he disappeared with his carriage beneath the postern of the +gardener and the Lady in Black went back into the Square Tower.</p> + +<p>After this, I wished to emerge from our corner, but Rouletabille +restrained me. It was well that he did so, for Bernier came up to the +postern and crossed the court, directing his way again toward the +Square Tower. When he was not more than two meters from the door, which +was closed, Rouletabille glided softly from the corner of the parapet, +stepped between the door and the figure of Bernier, who was struck with +terror. He put his hands upon the shoulders of the concierge.</p> + +<p>“Come with me!” he commanded.</p> + +<p>Bernier seemed absolutely powerless. I, too, came out of my hiding +place. The old man looked at us both standing there in the moonlight: +his face was sorrowful and he murmured sadly:</p> + +<p>“This is a great misfortune!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br> +THE IMPOSSIBLE BODY</h2> +</div> + + +<p>“It will be a great misfortune if you don’t tell the truth,” muttered +Rouletabille, in smothered tones. “But if you conceal nothing, the +trouble may not be so great. Come this way.”</p> + +<p>And he drew him, clasping him by the fist, toward the New Château, I +following. I saw that a great change had come over Rouletabille. He +was completely his old self again. Now that he was so happily relieved +of the sorrow of separation from his mother which had pressed on his +mind ever since his early childhood, now that he had again found the +perfume of the Lady in Black, he seemed to have reconquered all the +forces of his spirit and was ready to enter eagerly into the strife +against the mysteries which surrounded us. And, until the day when +all was ended—until the last supreme moment—the most dramatic that +I have ever lived through in the whole course of my existence—<i>the +moment in which life and death spoke out and were explained by his +lips</i>—he never again made a sign of hesitation in the forward +march: he never spoke another word which could have been taken as an +attempt to warn us against the dreadful situation which arose from +the siege of the Square Tower by the attack of that night between the +twelfth and thirteenth of April.</p> + +<p>Bernier resisted him no further. When others tried to do so, he held +them in his grasp until they cried for mercy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span></p> + +<p>Bernier walked in front of us, his head bent, looking like an accused +man who is being led on his way to trial. And when we reached +Rouletabille’s room, the young reporter bade Bernier sit down facing +us. I lighted the lamp. Rouletabille sat silent for a moment, looking +at Bernier, lighting his pipe the while, and evidently seeking to read +in the face of the concierge all the honesty which he could find. Soon +his knitted brows relaxed, his eye grew clearer and, after he had blown +a few rings of smoke toward the ceiling, he said:</p> + +<p>“Well, Bernier, how did they kill him?”</p> + +<p>Bernier shook his shaggy head.</p> + +<p>“I have sworn to say nothing and I will say nothing, monsieur. And, +upon my word of honor, I know nothing.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” went on Rouletabille, unconcernedly. “Tell me what you +don’t know. For if you do not tell me what you don’t know, Bernier, I +will be responsible for nothing, no matter what happens.”</p> + +<p>“And for what could you be responsible in any case, monsieur?”</p> + +<p>“For one thing, I won’t answer for your safety, Bernier.”</p> + +<p>“For my safety? I have done nothing.”</p> + +<p>“For the safety of all of us, then—for our lives, even!” replied +Rouletabille, arising from his chair and pacing restlessly across the +room, in order, doubtless, to give himself an opportunity to perform +some necessary mental algebraic operation. Then he paused and went on, +“Where was he? In the Square Tower?”</p> + +<p>Bernier did not speak but he nodded assent.</p> + +<p>“Where? In Old Bob’s bedroom?”</p> + +<p>“No,” Bernier shook his head.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span></p> + +<p>“Hidden in your rooms?”</p> + +<p>Bernier shook his head vehemently.</p> + +<p>“Well, where was he then? He could certainly not have been in the +apartments of M. and Mme. Darzac!”</p> + +<p>Bernier bowed his head.</p> + +<p>“Miserable hound!” cried Rouletabille and he leaped at Bernier’s +throat. I rushed to the rescue of the concierge and snatched him from +the young man’s clutches. As soon as he could breathe, the old servant +looked up, piteously.</p> + +<p>“Why did you try to strangle me, M. Rouletabille?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“How dare you ask, Bernier? How dare you? And you acknowledge that +<i>he</i> was in the apartment of M. and Mme. Darzac! Who, then, gained +him entrance to that apartment? No one but yourself. You, the only +person who had the key when the Darzacs were not there!”</p> + +<p>Bernier arose to his feet. He was as pale as a ghost, but his look and +attitude were full of dignity.</p> + +<p>“M. Rouletabille, do you accuse me of being an accomplice of Larsan?”</p> + +<p>“I forbid you to pronounce that name!” shouted the reporter. “You know +very well that Larsan is dead—and has been dead for months!”</p> + +<p>“For months!” echoed Bernier, ironically. “Yes, that is true—I was +wrong to forget it. When one devotes oneself to his masters and permits +himself to be beaten and abused for them, it is necessary to ignore +everything, no matter what they may do to you. I beg your pardon, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Listen to me, Bernier. I know that you are a brave man and I respect +you. It is not your good faith that I am questioning, but I am +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span> +censuring your negligence.”</p> + +<p>“My negligence!” Bernier, as pale as his face had been, flushed +crimson. “My negligence! I have not budged from my lodge—not even +from the corridor. I have always worn the key in my breast pocket and +I swear to you that no one entered that room—no one at all—after you +were there at five o’clock, except M. and Mme. Darzac, themselves. I do +not count, of course, the few moments that you and M. Sainclair were +there at about six o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“What!” exclaimed Rouletabille. “Do you want me to believe that this +individual—you have forgotten his name, I think, Bernier—let us call +him ‘the Man’—that the man was killed in M. Darzac’s rooms if he was +not there?”</p> + +<p>“I do not. And, furthermore, I can swear to you that he <i>was</i> +there.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but how could he have been? That is what I ask you, Bernier. And +you are the only one who can answer because you alone had the key in +the absence of M. and Mme. Darzac. And M. Darzac never took the key +with him when he left the room and no one could have gotten into the +room to hide while he was there.”</p> + +<p>“That is the mystery, monsieur. That is what puzzles M. Darzac more +than all the rest. But I have only been able to answer him as I have +answered you. There is the mystery.”</p> + +<p>“When you left the room with M. Darzac, M. Sainclair and myself at +about a quarter after six, did you lock the door immediately?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, monsieur.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span></p> + +<p>“When did you open it after that?”</p> + +<p>“Not at all.”</p> + +<p>“And where were you in the meantime?”</p> + +<p>“In front of the door of my lodge, watching the door of the apartment. +My wife and I took our dinner in that same spot at about half after +six, on a little table in the corridor, because, on account of the door +of the tower being open, it was quite light and was pleasanter. After +dinner, I sat in the doorway of the lodge, smoking a cigarette and +chatting with my wife. We were so seated that, even if we had wished +to do so, we would not have been able to withdraw our eyes from M. +Darzac’s rooms. It is a mystery!—a mystery more extraordinary than +the mystery of the Yellow Room. For, in the former case, we did not +know of what had passed <i>before</i>. But now, monsieur, one knows all +that happened beforehand since you yourself visited the apartment at +5 o’clock and saw that no person was there; one knows all that passed +during the interim, for either I had the key in my pocket, or M. Darzac +was in his room and must have seen the man who opened his door and +entered the room for the purpose of assassinating him. And while I was +sitting in the corridor before the door, I must have seen the man pass! +And we know what took place <i>after</i>. After, there was the death of +the man and that proved that the man was there. Ah, it is a mystery!”</p> + +<p>“And from five o’clock until the moment of the tragedy, you declare +that you never quitted the corridor?”</p> + +<p>“I swear it.”</p> + +<p>“You are absolutely certain?” persisted Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“Ah, pardon, monsieur—there was one moment—the moment that you called +me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span></p> + +<p>“That is good, Bernier. I wanted to see if you remembered that.”</p> + +<p>“But I was not away from my post more than an instant or two, and M. +Darzac was in his room then. He did not leave it while I was gone. Ah! +what a mystery!”</p> + +<p>“How do you know that M. Darzac didn’t go out during those moments?”</p> + +<p>“Why, because if he had done so, my wife, who was in the lodge, must +have seen him! And then all would be explained and we would not be so +puzzled, nor Madame either. Ah! must I say it to you over again? No one +has entered that room except M. Darzac at five o’clock and you two at +six, and no person got in between the time that M. Darzac went out and +the time when he came in at night with Mme. Darzac. He was like you—he +didn’t want to believe me. I swore it to him upon the corpse that lay +before us!”</p> + +<p>“Where was the corpse?”</p> + +<p>“In M. Darzac’s bedroom.”</p> + +<p>“It was really a dead body?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he was breathing still—I heard him.”</p> + +<p>“Then it was not a corpse, Pere Bernier.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, M. Rouletabille, where was the difference? He had a bullet in his +heart.”</p> + +<p>At last, Pere Bernier was going to tell us of the body. Had he seen +it? Who was it? One would have said that this seemed of secondary +importance in the eyes of Rouletabille. The reporter seemed engrossed +only with the problem of finding how the body had come to be there. How +had that man happened to be killed?</p> + +<p>But, indeed, Pere Bernier knew only very little. The whole thing had +been as sudden as a rifle shot—so it seemed to him—and he was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span> +behind the door. He told us that he was going to his lodge and felt so +drowsy that he had intended to throw himself down on the bed for a few +moments, when he and Mere Bernier heard such a commotion issue from the +apartment of M. Darzac that they were seized with terror. It was as if +the furniture were being thrown about and blows were rained upon the +walls.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” cried Mere Bernier, and the same instant they +heard the voice of Mme. Darzac, shouting, “Help! help!” This was the +cry that we, too, had heard in the New Château. Pere Bernier, leaving +his wife almost fainting from horror, rushed to the door of M. Darzac’s +room and beat against it, crying aloud to him to open, but obtaining +no reply. The struggle within was still going on. Bernier heard the +labored breathing of two men and he recognized the voice of Larsan when +he heard the words: “With this blow, I shall have your life!” Then +he heard M. Darzac, who called his wife to his aid in a voice almost +stifled, as though he were gagged, “Mathilde! Mathilde!” Evidently +he and Larsan must have been engaged in a life and death struggle +when, suddenly, the pistol shot had saved him. This pistol shot had +frightened Pere Bernier less than the cry which had followed it. One +would have thought that Mme. Darzac, who had uttered the cry, had +been mortally wounded. Bernier was unable to understand Mme. Darzac’s +attitude in the matter. Why did she not open the door and admit him +to help her husband? Why did she not draw the shades? Finally, almost +immediately after the pistol shot, the door, upon which Pere Bernier +had not stopped knocking all the time, was opened. The room was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span> +wrapped in darkness, which did not surprise the concierge, for the +light of the chandelier which he had perceived under the door during +the fight had been suddenly extinguished and at the same moment he +had heard the chandelier itself fall heavily to the floor. It was +Mme. Darzac who had opened the door and Bernier could distinguish +through the gloom the form of M. Darzac leaning over something which +the concierge knew was a dying man. Bernier had called to his wife to +bring a light, but Mme. Darzac had cried: “No, no! No light! no light! +And, above all, be sure that <i>he</i> knows nothing.” And immediately +she had rushed to the door of the tower, calling out, “He is coming! +he is coming! I hear him! Open the door, Pere Bernier! I must go and +meet him!” And Pere Bernier had opened the door, the while she kept on +moaning, “Hide yourselves! Go in! Don’t let him know anything!”</p> + +<p>Pere Bernier went on:</p> + +<p>“You came like a waterspout, M. Rouletabille. And she drew you into +Old Bob’s sitting room. You saw nothing. I stayed with M. Darzac. The +rattle in the throat of the man on the floor had ceased. M. Darzac +still bending over him said to me: ‘Get a sack, Bernier, a sack and a +stone, and we will throw him into the sea and no one will ever hear his +voice again!’</p> + +<p>“Then,” Bernier went on, “I thought of my sack of potatoes; my wife +had gathered them up and put them back in the sack after you had +emptied them out; I emptied the bag again and brought it to him. We +made as little noise as possible. During this time, Madame was, I +suppose, telling you the story in Old Bob’s sitting room and we heard +M. Sainclair questioning my wife in the lodge. Moving very quietly, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span> +we had slipped the body, which M. Darzac had tied up, into the sack. +But I said to M. Darzac: ‘Let me beg of you not to throw it into the +water. It is not deep enough to hide it. There are days when the sea +is so clear that one may look down to the bottom.’ ‘What shall we do, +then?’ whispered M. Darzac. I answered: ‘Heaven help us, I don’t know, +monsieur! All that I could do for you and for Madame and for humanity +against a villain like Frederic Larsan, I have done and willingly. But +don’t ask any more of me and may God protect you!’ And I went out of +the room and found you in the lodge, M. Sainclair. And then you went +for M. Rouletabille at the request of M. Darzac, who had come out of +his own apartment. As for my wife, she was almost swooning with terror +when she suddenly saw that both M. Darzac and myself were covered +with blood. See, messieurs, my hands are red! Pray Heaven, it doesn’t +bring us misfortune! But we have done our duty. Oh, he was a miserable +wretch!—But do you want me to tell you?—well, one could never keep +such a history secret—and, in my opinion, it would be better to go +immediately with it to the justice. I have promised to keep silence +and I did keep silence so long as I was able, but I’m glad enough +to relieve myself of such a burden before you gentlemen who are the +friends of Monsieur and Madame—and who may, perhaps, be able to make +them listen to reason. Why should they hide the facts? Isn’t it an +honor to have killed Larsan!—Pardon me for having spoken his name—I +know well, it was not right—but is it not an honor to have saved the +whole world from a scoundrel in saving oneself? Ah! hold! a fortune! +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span> +Mme. Darzac promised me a fortune, if I would keep silence. What do I +care for that? Could one have a better fortune than to be of service to +the poor lady who has had so many troubles? Never in the world! But, +how she looked! Why should she have feared? I asked her when we thought +that you had gone to bed and that we three were all alone in the Square +Tower with our corpse. I said to her, ‘Tell everyone that you have +killed him! All the world will praise you!’ She answered: ‘There has +been too much scandal already, Bernier: and as much as it depends on me +to do, and as much as is possible, I will hide this new horror forever! +It would kill my father!’ I had nothing to say to that, but I wanted to +speak. It was upon the tip of my tongue to say, ‘If the business comes +out later, one will believe that you did something wrong and monsieur, +your father, will die just as surely.’ But it was her idea. She wished +that all should be concealed! Well, I promised her. That’s all!”</p> + +<p>Bernier turned toward the door, showing us his hands.</p> + +<p>“I must rid myself of the blood of the accursed pig!” he said, dryly.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille stopped him.</p> + +<p>“And what was M. Darzac saying all this time? What was his opinion?”</p> + +<p>“He repeated: ‘What Mme. Darzac says is right. She must be obeyed +implicitly.’ His shirt was torn and he had a slight wound in his +throat, but it did not seem to bother him at all, and, indeed, there +was only one thing in which he seemed interested, and that was as to +how the miserable wretch had gotten into his rooms. I told him what I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span> +have told you—that he could not have entered without my seeing him, +and I told him just how I had passed every moment of my time. His first +words on the subject had been: ‘But when I came in a little while ago, +there was no one in my room and I shut and bolted the door.’”</p> + +<p>“Where did this conversation take place?”</p> + +<p>“In the lodge, in the presence of my wife, who was nearly frightened to +death, poor thing!”</p> + +<p>“And the body? Where was that?”</p> + +<p>“It lay in the sleeping room of M. Darzac.”</p> + +<p>“And how was it decided that it should be disposed of?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t say as to that for certain, but their resolution was taken, +for Mme. Darzac said to me: ‘Bernier, I am going to ask of you one last +service: go and bring the English cart from the stable and harness Toby +to it. Don’t waken Walter, if you can help it. If you wake him and he +asks for any explanations, say this to him and also to Mattoni, who has +the watch at the postern: “It is for M. Darzac, who must be at Castelar +at four o’clock in the morning to see the tournament in the Alps.”’ +Mme. Darzac said also: ‘If you meet M. Sainclair, bring him to me, but +if you meet M. Rouletabille, say nothing to him and do nothing that +may attract his attention.’ Ah, Monsieur! Madame did not let me go out +until the window of your room was closed and your light extinguished! +And, then, we were not entirely certain in regard to the body which we +believed to be dead, before it sighed once more—and, my God! what a +sigh! The rest, Monsieur, you saw for yourself and now you know as much +as I. God help us!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span></p> + +<p>When Bernier had finished relating this incredible story, Rouletabille +put his hand on his arm, thanking him most earnestly for his great +devotion to his master and mistress, and begged him to use the utmost +discretion. The young reporter entreated the old servant to pardon his +roughness and ordered him to say nothing to Mme. Darzac of anything +that had passed between them. Bernier extended his hand in token of +fidelity, but Rouletabille drew back:</p> + +<p>“No—I can’t, Bernier! You are covered with blood.”</p> + +<p>Bernier left us to look for the Lady in Black.</p> + +<p>“Well!” I said when we were alone. “Larsan is dead!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Rouletabille. “I fear so!”</p> + +<p>“You fear so! Why, in Heaven’s name?”</p> + +<p>“Because,” he answered in a strange tone, which I could scarcely +recognize as his. “Because the death of Larsan, who is carried out dead +from a place which he never entered dead or alive, terrifies me more +than his life itself!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br> +IN WHICH THE FEARS OF ROULETABILLE ASSUME ALARMING PROPORTIONS</h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was literally true that he was frightened. And I was more terrified +myself than words could express. I had never seen him in such a state +of mental inquietude. He walked up and down the room nervously, +occasionally stopping in front of the mirror and passing his hand over +his forehead, as if he were asking his own image, “Can it be you, +Rouletabille, who have such thoughts? How dare you harbor them?” What +thoughts? He seemed rather to be upon the point of thinking than to +be actually doing so, and to be using every means of driving thought +away. He shook his head savagely and started for the window as though +he meant to leap out, leaning forth into the night, listening for the +slightest noise on the distant bank of the sea, expecting, perhaps, +to hear the wheels of the little carriage and the echo of Toby’s +shoes. One might have thought him a beast at bay. The surf was quiet; +the waves had grown entirely appeased. A white ray appeared suddenly +shining over the black waters. It was the dawn. And in a moment the old +château seemed to rise out of the night, pale and livid with the same +pallor as our own—the pallor of one who has not slept. “Rouletabille,” +I asked, trembling as I spoke, for I felt that I was intruding upon +ground where my feet had no right to tread; “your interview with your +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span> +mother was very brief and you separated in silence. I want to ask +you, my boy, whether she told you the story of the accident with the +revolver on the night stand that Bernier told me?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered without turning his face toward me.</p> + +<p>“She told you nothing of that kind?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“And you did not ask her for any explanation of the pistol shot nor of +the death cry—the cry that was the echo of the one which we heard two +years ago from her lips in the ‘inexplicable gallery’?”</p> + +<p>“Sainclair, you are too curious—you are more curious than I. I asked +her nothing.”</p> + +<p>“And you swore to see nothing and to hear nothing without her saying +anything to you about the pistol shot and the cry?”</p> + +<p>“Truly, Sainclair, it was necessary for me to believe—for my part, I +respected the secrets of the Lady in Black. I had nothing to ask of +her when she said to me, ‘We must leave each other now, my child, but +nothing can ever separate us again!’”</p> + +<p>“Ah, she said that to you—‘Nothing can ever separate us again’?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, my friend—and there was blood upon her hands.”</p> + +<p>We looked at each other in silence. I was now at the window and beside +the reporter. Suddenly his hand touched mine. Then he pointed to the +little taper which was burning at the entrance to the subterranean door +which led to Old Bob’s study in the Tower of the Bold.</p> + +<p>“It is dawn,” said Rouletabille. “And Old Bob is still at work. This +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span> +old fellow is certainly industrious and we will go and have a peep at +him at his labors. That will change our current of thought and I shall +be able to get away from these horrors that are smothering me and +driving me half wild.”</p> + +<p>And he heaved a long sigh.</p> + +<p>“Will Darzac never return!” he murmured, more as though he were +speaking to himself than to me.</p> + +<p>A few moments later we had crossed the court and had descended into the +octagon room of the Tower of Charles the Bold. It was empty. The lamp +was burning on the work table, but there was no sign of Old Bob.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” cried Rouletabille. He picked up the lamp and carried it from +place to place examining everything around him. He tried in turn +the lock of every little window which opened from the walls of the +basement. Nothing had changed its place, and all was arranged in order +and scientific etiquette. While we were looking around at the bones and +shells and horns of the prehistoric ages, the “hanging crystals,” the +rings made out of bone, the buckles formed from teeth, and the other +treasures of the savant, we came to the little desk-table. There we +found the “oldest skull in the history of humanity”; and it was true +that it had been spattered with the red paint of the wash drawing which +M. Darzac had set to dry upon that part of the desk which faced the +window and was exposed to the sun. I went from one window to the other +and shook the iron bars in order to assure myself that they had not +been touched nor tampered with in any way. Rouletabille saw what I was +doing and said:</p> + +<p>“What are you about? Before thinking about how he could have gotten +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span> +out at the windows, wouldn’t it be better to find out whether he went +by the door?”</p> + +<p>He set the lamp upon the parapet and looked for traces of footprints. +Then Rouletabille said:</p> + +<p>“Go and knock at the door of the Square Tower and ask Bernier whether +Old Bob has come in. Ask Mattoni at the postern and Pere Jacques at the +iron gate. Go, Sainclair—quick!”</p> + +<p>Five minutes after I went out I was back with the information. No one +had seen Old Bob in any part of the fortress. He had not passed by +anywhere. Rouletabille had his face close to the parapet. He said:</p> + +<p>“He left this lamp burning in order to make people believe that he was +at work.” And then he added, softly: “There is no sign of a struggle of +any sort and in the sand I find the traces of the footprints of only +M. Arthur Rance and M. Robert Darzac, who came to this room during the +storm last night and have brought on their feet a little earth from the +court of the Bold and also of the claylike soil of the outer court. +There is no footprint which could be Old Bob’s. Old Bob reached here +before and, perhaps, went out while the tempest was raging, but, in any +case, he has not come in since.” Rouletabille stood erect. He replaced +upon the desk the lamp the rays of which fell directly upon the skull +which had been splashed by the red paint in a frightful fashion. Around +us there were dozens of skeletons but certainly their presence was less +alarming to me than the absence of Old Bob.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille stood for a moment staring at the crimson skull, then he +took it in his hands and held his eyes close to its empty orbits. Then +he raised the skull higher and held it at arms’ length, gazing at it +with an almost breathless interest; he looked at the profile. Then he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span> +placed the hideous object in my hands and told me to raise it to the +level of my head, as carefully as thought it were the most precious of +burdens while Rouletabille brought the lamp very close to it.</p> + +<p>Like a flash an idea pierced through my brain. I let the skull fall on +the desk and rushed through the court till I came to the oubliette. +I discovered that the iron bars which closed it were still fast. If +anyone had fled by that way or had fallen into the shaft or had thrown +himself down, the bars would have been opened. I hurried back, more +anxious than ever.</p> + +<p>“Rouletabille! Rouletabille! There is no way that Old Bob could have +gotten out except in the sack!”</p> + +<p>I repeated the sentence, but my friend was not listening and I was +surprised to see him deeply engrossed in a task of which I found it +impossible to guess the meaning. How, at a time as tragic as the +present, while we were awaiting only the return of M. Darzac to +complete the circle in which the impossible body was found—while +in the Square Tower, the Lady in Black, like Lady MacBeth, must be +occupied in effacing from her hands the stains of the strangest of +crimes, Rouletabille seemed to be amusing himself by making drawings +with a foot rule, a square, a measure and a compass. There he was, +seated in the old geologist’s easy chair with Robert Darzac’s drawing +board before him and he also was making a plan—quiet and imperturbable +as an architect’s clerk.</p> + +<p>He had pricked the paper with one of the points of his compass while +the other point traced the circle which might represent the Tower of +the Bold as we could see it in the design of M. Darzac. Then, dipping +his brush into a tiny dish half full of the red paint which M. Darzac +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span> +had been using he carefully spread the paint over the entire space +occupied by the circle. In doing this, he was extremely particular, +giving the greatest attention to seeing that the paint was of the +same thickness at every point, just as a student might have done in +preparing a lesson. He bent his head first to the right and then to the +left as though to see the effect, moistening his lips with his tongue +as though he were meditating earnestly. In a moment he gave a little +start and then sat motionless. His eyes were fixed on the drawing as +though they had been glued to it. They did not even move in their +sockets. The stillness was horrible, but it was not much better when +his lips opened to utter an exclamation of breathless horror. His face +looked like that of a maniac. And he turned toward me so quickly that +he upset the great easy chair in which he had been seated.</p> + +<p>“Sainclair! Sainclair! Look at the red paint! Look at the red paint!”</p> + +<p>I leaned over the drawing, breathless, terrified by the savage +exultation of his tone. But I could only see a little drawing carefully +done.</p> + +<p>“The red paint! the red paint!” he kept groaning, his eyes staring in +his head as though he were witnessing some frightful spectacle.</p> + +<p>“But what—what is it?” I stammered.</p> + +<p>“‘<i>What is it?</i>’ My God, man, can’t you see? Don’t you know that +that is <i>blood</i>?”</p> + +<p>No, I did not know it—indeed, I was quite sure that it wasn’t +blood. It was merely red paint. But I took care not to contradict +Rouletabille. I feigned to be interested in this idea of blood.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span></p> + +<p>“Whose blood?” I inquired. “Do you think that it can be Larsan’s?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! oh! oh! Larsan’s blood? Who knows anything about Larsan’s blood? +Who has ever seen the color of it? To see that, it would be necessary +to open my own veins, Sainclair. That’s the only way!”</p> + +<p>I was completely overwhelmed and astonished.</p> + +<p>“My father would not let his blood be spilled like that!”</p> + +<p>He was speaking again with that strange, desperate pride of his father.</p> + +<p>“When my father wears a wig, it will fit! My father would not let his +blood be spilled like that!”</p> + +<p>“Bernier’s hands were covered with it and you yourself saw it upon the +hand of the Lady in Black.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes! That is true—that is true! But they could never kill my +father like that!”</p> + +<p>He seemed to grow more excited every moment and he never ceased gazing +on the little wash drawing. At last he spoke, his breast shaken with a +great sob.</p> + +<p>“O, God! O God! O God, have pity on us! That would be too frightful!”</p> + +<p>He ceased for a moment and then spoke again:</p> + +<p>“My poor mother did not deserve this! I did not deserve it—nor any one +in the world!” A tear ran down his cheek and fell into the little dish +of paint.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” he cried. “It isn’t necessary to fill it any fuller.” And he +picked up the tiny cup with infinite care and carried it to the cabinet.</p> + +<p>Then he took me by the hand and bade me look at him +carefully—carefully—and tell him whether he had not really gone +suddenly insane.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_008" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_008.jpg" width="1000" height="676" alt="A dimly lit room with stone walls, likely an artist's studio or workshop is showed where a man is seated at a table, intently focused on a drawing in front of him. Another man, wearing a hat and coat, appearing to observe on the artwork."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>His eyes seemed glued to his drawing. They never moved +from the paper.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + + +<p>“Let us go! let us go!” he said, drearily, at last. “The time is +come, Sainclair. No matter what happens, we can never turn back +now! The Lady in Black must tell us everything—<i>everything about +the man who is in that sack</i>! Ah, if M. Darzac were to return +immediately—immediately!—it might be less painful—but I dare wait no +longer!”</p> + +<p>Wait for what? Wait for whom? And why should he be so terrified now? +What fear had made his eyes so wild? Why did his teeth chatter?</p> + +<p>I could not restrain myself from asking him again:</p> + +<p>“What are you afraid of? Do you think that Larsan is not dead?”</p> + +<p>And he answered, gripping my hand as though he would never release it:</p> + +<p>“I tell you I fear his death more than I fear his life!”</p> + +<p>And he knocked at the door of the Square Tower before which we were +standing as he spoke. I asked him whether he did not wish me to leave +him alone with his mother. But, to my great surprise, he begged me not +to abandon him “for anything in the world—so that the circle should +not be closed.” And he added mournfully. “Perhaps it may never be!”</p> + +<p>The door of the Tower remained closed. He knocked again; then it was +opened and we saw Bernier’s face appear. He seemed embarrassed at the +sight of us.</p> + +<p>“What do you want? What are you doing here again?” he demanded. “Speak +low. Madame is in Old Bob’s sitting room. And the old man has not come +in yet.”</p> + +<p>“Let us enter, Bernier!” said Rouletabille. And he pushed the door +further open.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span></p> + +<p>“But whatever you do, don’t let Madame suspect——”</p> + +<p>“No, no!” replied Rouletabille, impatiently.</p> + +<p>We were in the vestibule of the Tower. The darkness was almost +impenetrable.</p> + +<p>“What is Madame doing in Old Bob’s sitting room?” asked the reporter in +a low voice.</p> + +<p>“She is waiting—waiting for the return of M. Darzac. She dare not +reënter <i>the room</i> until he comes—nor I, either!”</p> + +<p>“Well, go back into your lodge, Bernier!” ordered Rouletabille. “And +wait until I call you.”</p> + +<p>The young reporter opened the door of Old Bob’s salon, and we saw the +form of the Lady in Black, or, rather, her shadow, for the apartment +was very dark and the first faint rays of the sun had scarcely +penetrated it. The tall, sombre silhouette of Mathilde was standing but +it leaned against the corner of the window which looked out upon the +court of Charles the Bold. She never moved at our entrance, but her +lips opened and a voice that I should never have recognized as hers, +murmured:</p> + +<p>“Why are you come? I saw you crossing the court. You have been there +all night. You know all. What do you want now?”</p> + +<p>And she added in a tone of unutterable misery:</p> + +<p>“You swore to me that you would seek to know nothing.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille went to her side and took her hand reverently.</p> + +<p>“Come, Mother, dearest!” he said and the simple words upon his lips +sounded like a prayer, tender and imploring. “Come—come!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span></p> + +<p>And he drew her away. She did not resist in the least. It was as though +as soon as he touched her hand, he could bend her to his will. But when +he led her to the door of the fatal chamber, her whole frame seemed to +recoil. “Not there!” she moaned.</p> + +<p>And she reeled against the wall to keep herself from falling. +Rouletabille tried the door. It was locked. He called Bernier, who +opened the door and then hurried away as though he were bent on +escaping from some deadly peril.</p> + +<p>Once the door was opened, we looked into the room. What a spectacle we +beheld! The chamber was in the most frightful disorder. And the crimson +dawn which entered through the vast embrasures rendered the disorder +still more sinister. What an illumination for a chamber of horrors! +Blood was upon the walls and upon the floor and upon the furniture! +The blood of the rising sun and the blood of him whom Toby had carried +off in the sack, no one knew whither!—in the potato bag! The tables, +the chairs, the sofas were all overturned. The curtains of the bed to +which the man in his death agony had tried desperately to cling were +half torn down and one could distinguish upon one of them the mark of a +bloody hand.</p> + +<p>It was into this scene that we entered, supporting the Lady in Black, +who seemed ready to swoon, while Rouletabille kept murmuring to her in +his gentle and pleading tones: “It has to be done, Mother! It has to be +done!” And as soon as he had placed her upon a couch which I had turned +right side up, he began to question her. She answered in monosyllables, +by signs of the head or movements of the hands. And I saw that the +further the examination progressed, the more troubled and restless +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span> +Rouletabille became. He was visibly affected. He endeavored to regain +his composure and to help his mother maintain hers but it was difficult +for him to succeed in either effort. He spoke to the unhappy woman +as though he were still her little child. He called her “mamma” and +tried in every way to show his reverence and love for her. But she had +utterly lost courage. He held out his arms and she threw herself into +them; the son and mother embraced and that seemed to give her a little +more strength and she burst into a fit of weeping which seemed to +relieve a little the terrible weight upon her breast. I made a movement +as if to retire, but both sought to detain me and I saw that they did +not wish to be left alone in this room red with blood.</p> + +<p>Mme. Darzac, after her sobs had ceased, murmured:</p> + +<p>“We are delivered!”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille had fallen upon his knees at her side and, as she +uttered the words, he said entreatingly: “Mother, dearest, in order +that we may be sure of that—quite sure—you must tell me all that +happened—everything that you saw.”</p> + +<p>Then she told us the story. She looked at the closed door; she looked +with what seemed to be new horror at the overturned furniture and the +blood-spattered walls and floor and she narrated the details of the +frightful scene through which she had passed in a voice so low as to +be almost inaudible, and I was obliged to bring my ear close to her to +hear at all. In short, halting phrases, she told us that as soon as +M. Darzac had entered his room, he had drawn the bolt and had walked +straight to the little table which was placed in the center of the +room. The Lady in Black was standing a little nearer the left, ready +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span> +to pass into her own sleeping room. The apartment was lighted only by +a wax candle placed on the night commode, at the left, near Mathilde’s +door. And this is what happened:</p> + +<p>The silence of the room was suddenly broken by a loud crash, like that +of a piece of furniture falling to the ground, which made both M. and +Mme. Darzac quickly raise their heads while their hearts were struck at +the same moment by the same thrill of terror. The crash came from the +little panel. And then all was silent. The pair looked at each other +without daring to utter a word, perhaps without being able to do so. +Darzac made a movement toward the panel which was situated at the back +of the room on the right hand side. He was nailed to the spot where he +stood by a second crash, louder than the first, and this time it seemed +to Mathilde that she could see the panel move. The Lady in Black asked +herself whether she were the victim of a hallucination, or if she had +really seen the panel move. But Darzac had seen the same thing, for he +made a hasty step in that direction. But at that very moment, the panel +swung open before them. Pushed by an invisible hand it turned on its +hinges. The Lady in Black tried to cry out, but her tongue clove to the +roots of her mouth. But she made a gesture of terror and bewilderment +which threw the wax candle to the ground at the very moment when a +shadowy form issued from the panel. Uttering a cry of rage, Robert +Darzac rushed upon the figure.</p> + +<p>“And that shadow—that shadow had a face that you could see?” +interrupted Rouletabille. “Mamma, why did you not see the face? You +have killed the shadow, but how do we know that it was Larsan, if you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span> +did not see his face? Perhaps you have not even killed Larsan’s shadow.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” she replied, almost listlessly. “He is dead.” And then for a +moment, she said no more.</p> + +<p>And I looked at Rouletabille, asking myself: Who could have been killed +if it were not Larsan? If Mathilde had not seen his face, she had +certainly heard his voice. She shuddered yet at the recollection—she +heard it yet. And Bernier, too, had heard the voice and recognized +it—that terrible voice of Larsan’s—the voice of Ballmeyer, who in +that fearful conflict in the middle of the night, had promised death +to Robert Darzac. “This blow will end your life!” while Darzac could +only groan in the tones of a dying man, “Mathilde! Mathilde!” Ah, how +he had cried to her!—how he had called with the rattle in his throat, +as he lay already vanquished and in the shadow of death! And she—she +had only to throw her own shadow, swooning with terror, into the midst +of those two other shadows, while the man she loved called upon her for +the aid she could not give and which could not come from elsewhere. +And then, suddenly, there had come the pistol shot and she had uttered +that terrible shriek—as though she had been wounded, herself. “Who was +dead? Who was living? Who was speaking? Whose voice would she hear?”</p> + +<p>And then it was Robert who spoke.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille took the Lady in Black into his arms once more, lifted her +up and carried her tenderly to the door of her own room. And there, he +said to her: “Mamma, you must leave me now. I have work to do—for you, +for M. Darzac and for myself.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t leave me! I beg of you not to leave me until Robert comes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span> +back!” she cried in terror. Rouletabille begged her to try and take +some rest and promised to remain near her if she would close her door, +when someone knocked at the door of the corridor. Rouletabille asked +who was there and the voice of Darzac answered.</p> + +<p>“At last!” cried Rouletabille, and he threw the door open.</p> + +<p>The man who entered looked like a corpse. Never was human face so +pallid, so bloodless, so devoid of all semblance of life. So many +emotions had ravaged his visage that it expressed not a single one.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you were there!” he said. “Well, it is over.”</p> + +<p>And he fell into the chair from which Rouletabille had just raised the +Lady in Black. He looked up at her.</p> + +<p>“Your wish is realized,” he said. “It is where you wished it to be.”</p> + +<p>“Did you see his face?” questioned Rouletabille excitedly.</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Darzac, wearily. “I have not seen it. Did you think that +I was going to open the sack?”</p> + +<p>I thought that Rouletabille would have shown discomfiture at this +answer but, on the contrary, he turned to M. Darzac and said:</p> + +<p>“Ah, you did not see his face. That’s very good, indeed.” And he +pressed his hand affectionately.</p> + +<p>“The important thing now,” he went on, “is not that, at all. It is +necessary that we should close the circle. And you will help us do +that, M. Darzac. Wait a moment.”</p> + +<p>And almost joyously, he threw himself down on all fours and crawled +around among the furniture and under the bed as I had seen him do in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span> +the Yellow Room. And from time to time, he raised his head to say:</p> + +<p>“Ah, I shall find something—something that will save us.”</p> + +<p>I answered, looking at M. Darzac: “Aren’t we saved already?”</p> + +<p>“Which will save our brains,” Rouletabille went on.</p> + +<p>“The boy is right!” exclaimed M. Darzac. “It is absolutely necessary +for us to know how that man got into the room.”</p> + +<p>Suddenly Rouletabille rose to his feet, holding in his hand a revolver +which he had found under the panel.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you have found his revolver!” cried M. Darzac. “Fortunately, he +did not have time to use it.”</p> + +<p>As he spoke M. Darzac took from his pocket his own revolver—the +revolver which had saved his life—and held it out to the young man.</p> + +<p>“This is a good weapon!” he said.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille examined it closely and looked into the empty barrel out +of which had sped the ball which had dealt death; then he compared +the pistol with that which he had found under the panel and which had +fallen from the hand of the assassin. The latter was a “bull dog” and +bore the mark of a London gunsmith; it seemed to be quite new, every +barrel was filled and Rouletabille declared that it had never been +fired.</p> + +<p>“Larsan only avails himself of firearms in the last extremity,” said +the young man. “He hates noise of any kind. You may be sure that he +intended merely to frighten you with his revolver, otherwise he would +have fired it immediately.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_009" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_009.jpg" width="1000" height="694" alt="A man is examining the barrel of a revolver, holding another weapon in his other hand for comparison. To his right, another man appearing interested or suspicious. To the left, a seated man watches the scene looking resigned."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>Rouletabille examined the barrel of Darzac’s revolver, +and then compared the weapon with the other which he held.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span></p> + +<p>And Rouletabille returned M. Darzac’s revolver and put Larsan’s in his +pocket.</p> + +<p>“Of what use is it to be armed now?” cried M. Darzac, shaking his head. +“I assure you it is quite futile.”</p> + +<p>“You believe so?” demanded Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“I am certain of it.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille made a few steps through the room and said:</p> + +<p>“With Larsan, one can never be sure of anything. Where is the body?”</p> + +<p>M. Darzac replied.</p> + +<p>“Ask my wife. I want to forget all about it. I know nothing more about +this horrible thing. When the remembrance of that dreadful journey +shall return to me, I shall try to make myself believe that it was a +nightmare. And I will drive it away. Never speak to me of it again. No +one save Mme. Darzac knows where the body is. She may tell you, if she +likes.”</p> + +<p>“I have forgotten, too!” said Mathilde. “I was obliged to do so.”</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless,” insisted Rouletabille, shaking his head, “you must tell +me. You said that he was in his agony. Are you sure that he is dead +now?”</p> + +<p>“I am perfectly sure,” replied M. Darzac, simply.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is finished. Is it not entirely ended?” pleaded Mathilde. She +arose and walked to the window. “See! there is the sun! This horrible +night is dead—dead, forever! Everything is over!”</p> + +<p>Poor Lady in Black! The yearnings of her soul revealed themselves in +her words. “It is finished!” And the fact, as she believed it, made +her forget all the horror of the scene which had passed in this room. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span> +Larsan no more! Larsan buried! Buried in the potato sack!</p> + +<p>And we all started up in affright, when the Lady in Black began to +laugh—the frantic laugh of a madwoman! She ceased as suddenly as she +had begun and a horrible stillness followed. We dared look neither at +her nor at each other! She was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“It is all over!” she said. “Forgive me: I won’t laugh again.”</p> + +<p>And then Rouletabille said, speaking in a very low tone:</p> + +<p>“It will be over when we know how he got in.”</p> + +<p>“What good would it do?” replied the Lady in Black. “It is a question +to which he alone knows the answer. He is the only one who could tell +us and he is dead.”</p> + +<p>“He will not be truly dead for us until we know that,” responded +Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“Evidently,” said M. Darzac, “so long as we do not know that, we shall +be uneasy and he will be there in our minds. He must be driven away! he +must be!”</p> + +<p>“Let us try to drive him away then,” said Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>And he went to the Lady in Black and gently took her hand in his and +attempted to draw her into the next room, begging her to lie down and +rest. But Mathilde declared that she would not go. She said: “What! +you would drive Larsan away and I not here!” And her voice sounded as +though she were about to laugh again. I made a sign to Rouletabille not +to insist upon her absence.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille opened the door leading into the corridor and called +Bernier and his wife.</p> + +<p>They did not wish to enter, but we insisted on their doing so, and a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> +general consultation took place from which we deduced the following +facts:</p> + +<p>(1) Rouletabille had visited the apartment at five o’clock and searched +behind the panel and at that time there was no one in the room.</p> + +<p>(2) After five o’clock, the door of the apartment had been twice opened +by Pere Bernier, who alone had the right to open it in the absence of +M. and Mme. Darzac. The first time was at five o’clock to permit M. +Darzac to enter; the next at eleven o’clock to admit M. and Mme. Darzac.</p> + +<p>(3) Bernier had locked the door of the apartment when M. Darzac went +out with us between a quarter past and half past six.</p> + +<p>(4) The door of the apartment had been locked and bolted by M. Darzac +as soon as he entered his room, both in the afternoon and in the +evening.</p> + +<p>(5) Bernier had stood guard before the door of the apartment from five +o’clock till eleven o’clock with a brief interruption of not more than +two minutes at six o’clock.</p> + +<p>When we had discussed and fully established these facts, Rouletabille, +who was sitting at M. Darzac’s desk taking notes, arose and said:</p> + +<p>“So far, it is very simple. We have only one hope. It is in the few +moments that Bernier was off guard about six o’clock. At least, at that +time, no one was in front of the door. But there was someone behind +it. It was you, M. Darzac. Can you reiterate, after having thoroughly +searched your memory, that when you went into your room, you instantly +closed the door and drew the bolt?”</p> + +<p>“I can!” replied M. Darzac, solemnly; and he added: “And I opened that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span> +door only when you and Sainclair knocked upon it. I swear it.”</p> + +<p><i>And in saying this, as later events proved, the man spoke the +truth.</i></p> + +<p>Rouletabille thanked the Berniers and dismissed them to get some rest. +Then, his voice trembling, the lad said:</p> + +<p>“It is well, M. Darzac, you have closed the circle. The apartment in +the Square Tower is now closed as firmly as was the Yellow Room which +was like a strong box, or as the ‘inexplicable gallery.’”</p> + +<p>“One would guess immediately that Larsan was mixed up in the affair!” I +exclaimed. “It is the same mode of procedure!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” observed Mme. Darzac. “Yes, M. Sainclair, it is the same mode of +procedure.” And she unfastened her husband’s collar to show the wounds +hidden beneath it.</p> + +<p>“See!” she said. “They are the same nail prints. I know them well.”</p> + +<p>There was a sorrowful silence.</p> + +<p>M. Darzac, caring only to solve this strange problem, reviewed the +crime of the Glandier. And he repeated what he had said in the Yellow +Room:</p> + +<p>“There must be a passage in the floor, in the ceiling or in the walls.”</p> + +<p>“There is not,” replied Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“Then he must have found some way to make one,” persisted M. Darzac.</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked Rouletabille. “Did he do anything of the sort in the +Yellow Room?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, this isn’t the same thing at all!” I exclaimed. “This apartment is +more firmly closed than the Yellow Room since no one could have gotten +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span> +into it before nor after.”</p> + +<p>“No, it is not the same thing,” pronounced Rouletabille. “It is just +the opposite. In the Yellow Room, there was a body missing: in the room +in the Round Tower, there is a body too many.”</p> + +<p>And he tottered out, leaning on my arm so as not to fall. The Lady in +Black rushed toward him. He had strength enough left to stop her with a +gesture.</p> + +<p>“Oh—this is nothing!” he said. “I’m a little tired, that’s all!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br> +THE SACK OF POTATOES</h2> +</div> + + +<p>While M. Darzac, with the assistance of Bernier, busied himself, as +Rouletabille advised, with obliterating all signs of the tragedy, +the Lady in Black, who had hastily changed her dress, hurried to her +father’s rooms in order not to run the risk of encountering any of the +other members of the party. Her last word was to counsel us to prudence +and silence. Rouletabille also took leave of us.</p> + +<p>It was now about seven o’clock in the morning and things began to stir +in and about the château. We could hear the fishermen singing in their +boats. I threw myself upon my bed, and in a few moments I was sleeping +profoundly, vanquished by the physical weariness which was stronger +than my powers of resistance. When I awakened, I lay for a few moments +on my couch in a pleasant bewilderment, but as the events of the night +dawned on my remembrance, I started up in terror.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” I cried out, “A body too many! No, no! It can’t be! It’s +impossible!”</p> + +<p>It was this which surged across the dark gulf of my thoughts, above +the abyss of my memory; this impossibility of “a body too many.” And +the horror which I found in my heart at my awakening was not confined +to myself—far from it! All those who had mingled, near or far, in +this strange drama of the Square Tower, shared it; and even though +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span> +the horror of the event itself were appeased—the horror of the body +in its last throes of agony thrown into a sack which a man carried +off at night to cast it into who knows what far off and profound and +mysterious tomb where it might gasp out its last breath of life—even +if, I say, this horror should be forgotten and blotted out of the mind, +and effaced from the vision, yet still the impossibility of this “body +too many” grew and increased and rose up before us higher and higher +and more threatening and more dreadful. Certain persons there are—like +Mme. Edith, for example—who deny almost from habit, anything which +they cannot understand—who deny the presentation of the problem which +destiny holds for us (such as we have established in the preceding +chapter) even while every event and every circumstance among those +which had the Fort of Hercules for their theatre rendered proof of the +exactitude of the presentation.</p> + +<p>First of all, the attack! How had the attack been made? At what moment? +By what means of approach? What mines, trenches, covered paths, +breaches—in the domains of the mental fortifications—have served the +assailant and delivered the château over into his hands? Yes, under +the existing conditions, where was the attack? The answer is—silence. +And yet, the facts must be brought to light. Rouletabille has said so; +he ought to know. In a siege as mysterious as this, the attack may be +in everything or in nothing. The assailant is as still as the grave +itself and the assault is made without clamor and the enemy approaches +the walls walking in his stocking feet. The <i>attack</i>? It is, +perhaps, in the very stillness itself, but again, it may, perhaps, be +in the spoken word. It is in a tone, in a sigh, in a breath. It is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span> +in a gesture, but if perhaps it may be in all which is hidden, it may +be, also, in all that is revealed—in <i>everything which one sees and +which one does not see</i>.</p> + +<p>Eleven o’clock! Where was Rouletabille? His bed had not been disturbed. +I dressed myself hurriedly and went to look for my friend, whom I found +in the outer court. He took me by the arm and led me into the vast +drawing room of “la Louve.” There, I was surprised to find, although it +was not yet time for luncheon, everybody assembled. M. and Mme. Darzac +were there. It seemed to me that M. Rance’s manner was rather frigid. +When he shook my hand in wishing me good morning, he barely touched +my fingers. As soon as we entered the room Mme. Edith, from the dark +corner where she was reclining carelessly on a sofa, saluted us with +the words:</p> + +<p>“Ah, here is M. Rouletabille with his friend, Sainclair. Now we shall +know why we have all been summoned here!”</p> + +<p>To this remark, Rouletabille responded by first excusing himself for +having requested us all to gather at so early an hour; but he had, he +went on to say, such a serious and important communication to make +to us that he had not wished to delay it one moment longer than was +absolutely necessary. His tone was so grave that Edith pretended to +shiver and counterfeited an infantile terror. But Rouletabille, without +noticing her, continued: “Before you shiver, Madame, wait until you +know what you have to be afraid of. I have some news for you which is +very far from pleasant.”</p> + +<p>We all looked at him, and then at each other! What was he about to say? +I endeavored to read in the faces of M. and Mme. Darzac what they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span> +thought of the matter. Both showed remarkably little evidence of last +night’s horrors! But what was it that Rouletabille had to say to us? +He entreated those who were standing to be seated and then he began to +speak. He addressed himself to Mme. Rance.</p> + +<p>“First of all, Madame, permit me to inform you that I have decided to +suppress the ‘guard’ which surrounded the Château of Hercules, like an +inner wall, and which I judged necessary for the protection of M. and +Mme. Darzac and which you kindly allowed me to establish, although it +vexed you, showing the most charming of good humor and accommodating +spirit.”</p> + +<p>This direct allusion to the mocking remarks and innuendos of Mme. Edith +at the time when we mounted guard made Mr. Rance and his wife both +smile. But no smile arose to the lips of M. or Mme. Darzac nor myself, +for we had begun to ask ourselves anxiously what the boy was preparing +to say.</p> + +<p>“Ah, really, are you going to withdraw the guard from the château, +M. Rouletabille? Well, I am very glad to hear it, although I assure +you that it did not vex me in the least!” exclaimed Mme. Edith with +an affectation of gayety. “On the contrary, it has interested me very +much, because, you know, I am of a very romantic nature, and if I +rejoice at the change, it is because the fact proves to me that M. and +Mme. Darzac are no longer in any danger.”</p> + +<p>“This is true, Madame,” replied Rouletabille, “since last night.”</p> + +<p>Mme. Darzac could not refrain from a hasty movement which no one save +myself perceived.</p> + +<p>“So much the better!” cried Mme. Edith. “May Heaven be praised! +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span> +But how is it that my husband and I are the last to hear the news? +Interesting things must have been happening last night! The nocturnal +trip of M. Darzac to Castelar was one of them, without doubt!”</p> + +<p>As she spoke, I could see the embarrassment of M. and Mme. Darzac. The +former, after a glance at his wife, started to speak, but Rouletabille +would not permit him to do so.</p> + +<p>“Madame, I do not know where M. Darzac went last night, but it is +necessary that you should know one thing; and that is the reason why M. +and Mme. Darzac have ceased to run any danger. Your husband, Madame, +has told you of the frightful tragedy of the Glandier two years ago and +of the villainous part played in it by——”</p> + +<p>“Frederic Larsan—yes, monsieur, I know all that.”</p> + +<p>“You know also, of course, that the reason why we have placed such a +strong guard here around M. Darzac and his wife was because we had seen +this man again?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>“Well, M. and Mme. Darzac are no longer in danger because this man +cannot appear again ever.”</p> + +<p>“What has become of him?”</p> + +<p>“He is dead.”</p> + +<p>“When did he die?”</p> + +<p>“Last night.”</p> + +<p>“And how did he die last night?”</p> + +<p>“He was killed, madame.”</p> + +<p>“And where was he killed?”</p> + +<p>“In the Square Tower.”</p> + +<p>We all sprang to our feet at this declaration in the greatest +agitation. M. and Mme. Rance seemed completely stupefied by the words +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span> +which they had heard and M. and Mme. Darzac and myself were plunged +into the most profound agitation by the fact that Rouletabille had not +hesitated to reveal the secret.</p> + +<p>“In the Square Tower?” cried Mme. Edith. “And who, then, has killed +him?”</p> + +<p>“M. Robert Darzac,” replied Rouletabille. “And he entreats everyone to +sit down.”</p> + +<p>It was astonishing how we seated ourselves with one accord, as though, +at such a moment, we had nothing to do except to obey this youngster. +But almost immediately Mme. Edith arose and seizing M. Darzac by the +hand, she exclaimed with an emphasis which made me decide that I had +judged her wrongly when I called her affected:</p> + +<p>“Bravo, Monsieur Robert! All right! You are a gentleman!”</p> + +<p>Then she paid some exaggerated compliments—for after all, it was +her nature to exaggerate things—to Mme. Darzac. She swore eternal +friendship for her; she declared that she and her husband were ready, +under all circumstances, to stand by the Darzacs and that the latter +might count upon their zeal and their devotion and that they would +swear whatever one liked before all the judges in the tribunal.</p> + +<p>“Gently, dear Madame,” interrupted Rouletabille. “There is no question +of judges and we hope that there may not be. There’s no need of it. +Larsan was a dead man in the eyes of the whole world long before he was +killed last night—he will continue to be dead, that is all! We have +decided that it would be useless to reopen a scandal of which M. and +Mme. Darzac have already been made the innocent victims and we have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span> +counted upon your assistance. The affair has happened in so mysterious +a fashion that even you, if we had not informed you in regard to it, +would never have suspected. But M. and Mme. Darzac are endowed with +sentiments too noble to permit them to forget what they owe to their +hosts. The most simple rules of hospitality ordered them to tell you +that they killed a man in your house last night. How foolish it would +be to lay bare this unfortunate story to some Italian police officer +and subject you to the inconvenience of having your names coupled with +the miserable business, and, it might easily be, to have a search made +of your house and hired servants of the law under your roof! M. and +Mme. Darzac, for your sakes alone, are anxious that you should not run +the risk of being the object of idle gossip, or, perhaps, of having the +police descend upon your home.”</p> + +<p>M. Arthur Rance, who up to this time had remained speechless, arose and +said, his face as pallid as though he had seen a ghost:</p> + +<p>“Frederic Larsan is dead. Well, so far so good, and no one is more +rejoiced than myself to know it. And if he has received the punishment +due to his crimes from the hand of M. Darzac, no one is more to be +congratulated than M. Darzac. But I consider that it would be wrong +for M. Darzac to make any attempt to conceal an act which is an honor +to himself. It would be better to inform the authorities and without +delay. If they should come to learn of this affair from others, rather +than by our means, think of what the situation would be! If we give out +the information ourselves, we shall show that an act of justice has +been committed. If we conceal anything, we shall place ourselves in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span> +the category of malefactors. People might even suppose——”</p> + +<p>To listen to M. Rance’s stammering speech and to observe his demeanor, +one might almost have imagined that he was the slayer of Frederic +Larsan—he who was in danger of being accused of murder and dragged to +prison.</p> + +<p>“It is necessary to think of everything, gentlemen,” he concluded. And +Edith added:</p> + +<p>“I believe that my husband is right. But before we come to a decision, +we ought to know just what has happened.”</p> + +<p>And she addressed herself directly to M. and Mme. Darzac. But both of +the latter were still under the spell of surprise which Rouletabille +had caused them by his remarks—Rouletabille who that very morning, in +my presence, had promised to be silent and had sworn us all to silence. +Neither the one nor the other had a word to say. M. Rance repeated, +nervously: “Why should we conceal anything? Why should we? We must tell +everything.”</p> + +<p>All at once, the reporter seemed to take a sudden resolution. I +understood by the expressions which chased themselves over his face +in rapid succession that something of considerable moment was passing +through his mind. He leaned toward Arthur Rance, whose right hand was +resting on a cane, the head of which was carved in ivory, beautifully +cut by a famous carver at Dieppe. Rouletabille took the cane in his +hand.</p> + +<p>“May I look at it?” he asked. “I am an amateur ivory carver myself and +my friend, Sainclair, here, has told me about this beautiful cane. I +had not noticed it before. It is really very beautiful. It is a figure +by Lambesse and there is no better workman on the Norman shore.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span></p> + +<p>The young man seemed to be entirely engrossed in studying the cane. As +he touched the carving, the stick fell from his hand and rolled toward +M. Darzac. I picked it up and returned it immediately to M. Rance. +Rouletabille cast a withering look at me, and I read in that glance +that, somehow or other, I had shown myself an idiot.</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith rose to her feet, tapping her little foot impatiently +and seemingly very nervous at the tension of the situation—by the +carelessness of Rouletabille and the silence of M. and Mme. Darzac.</p> + +<p>“Dearest,” she said to Mme. Darzac, in the sweetest tones. “You are +completely tired out. The experiences of this horrible night have +overpowered you. Let me take you into my own room so that you may rest +a little.”</p> + +<p>“Pardon me for asking you to wait a few moments, Madame,” interrupted +Rouletabille. “What I have yet to say may be of special interest to +you.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, monsieur, but speak out, please. Don’t drag the recital +along so.”</p> + +<p>She was perfectly justified in her remarks. Did Rouletabille realize +it? At all events, he certainly made up for his previous deliberation +by the rapidity and clearness with which he retraced the events of +the night. In no other words could the problem of the “body too many” +have been presented before us with such mysterious horror. Mme. Edith +shivered—and if her shudder was counterfeit, I never saw a real one! +As for Arthur Rance, he sat with his chin resting on the head of his +cane, murmuring with a truly American coolness, but in accents of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span> +strongest conviction: “What a devilish history! The story of the body +which could not have gotten into the room is a page from the notebook +of Satan himself!”</p> + +<p>While he was speaking, he was gazing at the tip of Mme. Darzac’s shoe +which peeped out from the hem of her gown. In the moment which followed +the closing of Rouletabille’s narration, conversation became a little +more general; but it was less a conversation than such a confused +mixture of exclamations and interruptions, of interjections and +indignation and demands for explanations on one point or another that +the confusion seemed more increased than ever before. They spoke also +of the horrible departure of “the body too many” in the potato sack, +and at this point, Mme. Edith took occasion to once more express her +admiration for M. Robert Darzac as a hero and a gentleman. Rouletabille +never opened his lips during this torrent of words. It was plain to +be seen that he despised this verbal manifestation of perturbation of +spirits, but he endured it with the air of a professor who permits a +few moments relaxation to pupils who have been well behaved in school. +This was a mannerism of his which often vexed me and with which I +sometimes reproached him, but without having any effect on him, for +Rouletabille was likely to give himself whatever airs he chose.</p> + +<p>At length—probably when it appeared to him that the recreation had +lasted long enough, he asked abruptly of Mrs. Rance:</p> + +<p>“Well, Madame, do you think we ought to inform the authorities?”</p> + +<p>“I think so more than ever,” she replied. “That which we are powerless +to discover, they would certainly find out.” (This allusion to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span> +intellectual incapacity of my friend left him profoundly indifferent). +“And I warn you of one thing, M. Rouletabille, and that is that we +may already be too late in seeking out the officers of justice. If we +had told them of our fears at the very beginning, you would have been +spared some long hours of watching and sleepless nights which have +profited you nothing, since, as now appears, they did not prevent what +you dreaded from coming to pass.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille seated himself, evidently conquering some strong emotion +which made him tremble as though he were chilled to the bone. Then with +a wave of the hand which he strove to render careless, he motioned Mme. +Edith to a chair and again picked up the cane which M. Rance had laid +down upon a sofa. I said to myself: “What is he trying to do with that +stick? This time, I won’t touch it, I’m certain. I must keep a lookout.”</p> + +<p>Playing with the cane, Rouletabille replied to Mme. Edith with an +attack almost as sharp as her own.</p> + +<p>“Madame, you are wrong in asserting that all the precautions which I +had taken for the safety of M. and Mme. Darzac have been useless. If +I am obliged to acknowledge the unexplainable presence of one body +too many, I am also compelled to refer to the absence—perhaps less +inexplicable—of one member of our own party.”</p> + +<p>We stared at each other, some of us seeking to understand, the others +dreading to do so.</p> + +<p>“What is that?” inquired Mme. Edith, with a mocking little smile. “In +such a case, I fail to see how you find any mystery at all.” And she +added with a flippant imitation of the reporter’s words and manner: +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span> +“A body too many on the one side; an unexplained absence on the other! +Everything is for the best.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” rejoined Rouletabille. “But the most frightful thing of +all is that the unexplained disappearance comes just at the right +time to make known to us, apparently, the identity of the ‘body too +many.’ Madame, I deeply regret to tell you that the person for whose +whereabouts we are unable to account, is none other than your uncle, +Monsieur Bob.”</p> + +<p>“Old Bob!” screamed the young woman. “Old Bob has disappeared!”</p> + +<p>And we all cried out with her:</p> + +<p>“Old Bob has disappeared?”</p> + +<p>“Unfortunately, it is true!” said Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>And he let the cane drop to the ground.</p> + +<p>But the news of the sudden disappearance of Old Bob had so seized the +Rances and the Darzacs that no one paid any attention to the cane as it +fell.</p> + +<p>“My dear Sainclair, will you be kind enough to pick up that cane?” +asked Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>I did as I was ordered and quickly, too, but Rouletabille did not even +deign to thank me. Mme. Edith turned like a lioness upon Robert Darzac, +who recoiled from her almost in fear as she shrieked:</p> + +<p>“You have killed my uncle!”</p> + +<p>Her husband and myself, with difficulty, prevented her from flying at +him. We entreated her to be calm and to remember that because her uncle +had absented himself from the peninsula did not necessarily mean that +he had disappeared in the potato sack and we reproached Rouletabille +with his brutality in blurting out an idea which could only be, at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span> +present time, at all events, an hypothesis of his uneasy mind. And we +added, imploring Mme. Edith to listen to us, that this hypothesis could +under no circumstances be looked upon by her either as an injury or an +insult, even admitting that it might be the true one, as it would only +show the superhuman cunning of Larsan, who must, in that case, have +taken the place of her respected uncle. But the young woman ordered her +husband to be quiet, and said, turning scornfully to me:</p> + +<p>“M. Sainclair, I sincerely hope that my uncle’s absence from here +will only be of short duration; for if it should turn out otherwise, +I should accuse you of being an accomplice in the most cowardly of +murders. As to you, monsieur,” and she turned to Rouletabille, “the +mere idea that you have ever dared to compare a man like Larsan with +my uncle, the gentlest, kindliest soul and the greatest scholar of his +time, forbids me to ever again consider you in the light of a friend, +and I hope that you will have the courtesy to relieve me of your +presence as soon as possible.”</p> + +<p>“Madame,” replied Rouletabille, bowing very low, “I was just about to +ask your permission to take leave of you. I have a short journey of +twenty-four hours to take. At the expiration of that time, I shall +return, ready to be of any possible assistance to you in whatever +difficulties may arise in accounting for the disappearance of your +uncle.”</p> + +<p>“If my uncle has not returned within twenty-four hours, I shall lodge a +complaint in the hands of the police, monsieur.”</p> + +<p>“It is a good plan, Madame; but before having recourse to it, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span> +I advise you to question all the servants in whom you have +confidence—particularly Mattoni. You trust Mattoni, do you not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, monsieur, I trust Mattoni.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, Madame, question him—question him. Ah—before I take my +departure, allow me to leave with you this excellent and historical +book.” And Rouletabille drew a small volume from his pocket.</p> + +<p>“What foolery is this?” demanded Mme. Edith, superbly disdainful.</p> + +<p>“This, Madame, is a work of M. Albert Bataille, a copy of his ‘Civil +and Criminal Cases,’ in which I advise you to read the adventures, +disguises, travesties and deceptions wrought by an illustrious swindler +whose true name was Ballmeyer.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille entirely ignored the fact that he had only the day before +spent two hours in recounting to Mme. Edith the exploits of Ballmeyer.</p> + +<p>“After having read this,” he went on, “ask yourself carefully whether +the cleverness of such an individual would have found very great +difficulty in presenting himself before your eyes under the guise of +an uncle whom you had not seen in four years—for it was four years, +Madame, since you had seen Old Bob, until that time that you started +out to the heart of the Pampas to look for him. As to the memory of +M. Arthur Rance, who started out with you on that journey, it would +be even less distinct than your own and he would be more capable of +being deceived than yourself with your intuition of kinship added to +your recollections of your relative. I implore you on my knees, Madame, +do not lose patience with us. The situation, Heaven knows, is grave +enough for each and every one of us. Let us remain united. You tell +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span> +me to rid you of my presence. I am going but I shall return; for if it +is necessary, taking everything into consideration, to arrive at the +intolerable conclusion that Larsan has assumed the name and likeness of +Monsieur Bob, it will remain for us only to seek Monsieur Bob himself, +in which case, Madame, I shall be at your disposal and your most humble +and obedient servant.”</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith assumed the attitude of an outraged tragedy queen and +Rouletabille, turning to Arthur Rance, continued:</p> + +<p>“For all that has happened, M. Rance, I make you my humblest excuses +and also to your wife. And I count upon you as the loyal gentleman that +you are and always have been to persuade her to have patience a little +longer. I realize that you feel that you have reason to reproach me +with having stated my hypothesis too quickly and too abruptly, but, +please remember, it is only a few moments since Madame reproached me +with being too slow.”</p> + +<p>But Arthur Rance seemed to have ceased to listen. He took his wife’s +arm and both moved toward the door and were about to leave the room +when the portals flew open and the stable boy, Walter, Old Bob’s +faithful servant, rushed into our midst. His clothing was torn, muddy +and covered with burs and thistles. Perspiration was streaming down +his forehead and cheeks, his hair was in disorder and his face wore +an expression of rage mingled with terror which made us fear some +new misfortune. He carried in his hand a dirty rag which he threw +upon the table. This repulsive object, stained with great blotches of +reddish brown was (as we divined immediately, recoiling from it in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span> +horror) nothing other than the sack which had served to carry off the +mysterious body.</p> + +<p>With a harsh voice and savage gestures, Walter howled forth a thousand +incomprehensible things in his broken jumble of French and English and +all of us with the exception of Arthur Rance and Mme. Edith, asked each +other, “What is he saying? What is he saying?”</p> + +<p>Arthur Rance interrupted him from time to time, while Walter shook his +fists menacingly at the rest of us and cast fiery glances at Robert +Darzac. Once, for a moment, it seemed as though he intended to seize +Darzac by the throat, but a gesture from Mme. Edith restrained him. +When he finished speaking, Arthur Rance translated his words for us.</p> + +<p>“He says that this morning he noticed blood stains on the English cart +and saw that Toby seemed very greatly fatigued. This puzzled him so +much that he decided to speak of it at once to Old Bob, but he sought +his master in vain. Then, seized by a dark foreboding, he followed the +prints of the horse’s feet and the wheels of the vehicle which he could +easily do because the road was muddy and the wheels had sunk deep. +Finally he reached the old Castillon and noticed that the wheels led +up to a deep chasm into which he descended, believing that he should +find the body of his master; but he saw merely this empty sack which +may have contained the corpse of Old Bob, and now, having caught a ride +in a peasant’s wagon, he has returned to ask for his master, to learn +whether anyone has seen him, and, if he is not found, to accuse Robert +Darzac of having caused his death.”</p> + +<p>We stood confounded. But, to our great astonishment, Mme. Edith was the +first to recover her self-possession. She spoke a few words to Walter +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span> +which appeared to quiet him, promising him that she would soon bring +him face to face with Old Bob, who was perfectly safe and well. And she +said to Rouletabille:</p> + +<p>“You have twenty-four hours, Monsieur; make the best use of it.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Madame,” said Rouletabille. “But if your uncle should not +return in that time, it will be because my idea was correct.”</p> + +<p>“But where can he be!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you, Madame. He is not in the sack now, at all events.”</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith cast a withering glance at him and left the room, followed +by her husband. The sight of the sack seemed to have stricken Robert +Darzac speechless. He had thrown the bag into an abyss and it was +brought back empty. After a moment’s pause, Rouletabille spoke:</p> + +<p>“Larsan is not dead, be sure of that! Never has the situation been so +frightful as it is to-day and I must hurry away at once. I have not +a minute to lose. Twenty-four hours—in twenty-four hours, I shall +be back. But promise me—swear to me, both of you, that you will not +quit the château. Swear to me, M. Darzac, that you will watch over +your wife—that you will prevent her from leaving these walls, even by +force, if it is necessary. Ah—and again—it is no longer necessary +that you should sleep in the Square Tower. No, you ought not to do +so. In the same wing where M. Stangerson is lodged, there are two +empty rooms. You must occupy them. It is absolutely necessary that you +should. Sainclair, you will see that this change is made. After my +departure, see that neither the one nor the other of them shall set +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span> +foot in the Square Tower. Adieu! Ah, wait!—let me embrace you—all +three.”</p> + +<p>He pressed us to his heart: M. Darzac first, then myself, and then, +falling into the arms of the Lady in Black, he burst into a passion of +sobs. This show of weakness and of grief on the part of Rouletabille, +in spite of the gravity of the circumstances of his departure, appeared +to me very strange. Alas! how easy it was for me to understand it +afterward!</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br> +THE SIGHS OF THE NIGHT</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Two o’clock in the morning! Every person and every thing in the castle +seemed wrapped in slumber. Silence brooded over the heavens and the +earth. While I stood at my window, my forehead burning and my heart +frozen, the sea yielded its last sigh and in a moment the moon appeared +riding like a queen in the cloudless sky. Shadows no longer veiled +the stars of the night. There, in that vast, motionless slumber which +seemed to envelope all the world, I heard the words of the Lithuanian +folk song: “But his glance seeks in vain for the beautiful unknown who +has covered her head with a veil and whose voice he has never heard.” +The words were carried to my ear, clear and distinct, in the still air +of the night. Who had pronounced them? Was the voice that of a man or +a woman? or was the song only an hallucination evoked by my memories? +What should the Prince from the Black lands be doing on the Azure shore +with his Lithuanian melodies? And why should his image and his songs +pursue me thus?</p> + +<p>Why was Mme. Edith attracted toward him? He was ridiculous with his +melancholy eyes and his long lashes and his Lithuanian songs! And I—I +was ridiculous, too. Had I the heart of a college boy? I think not. +I would rather believe that the emotion which was excited in me by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span> +the personality of Prince Galitch rose less from my knowledge of the +interest which Mme. Edith felt in him than from the thought of <i>that +other</i>. Yes, it was surely that. In my mind the thought of the +Prince and that of Larsan somehow went together. And the Prince had +not returned to the château since the famous luncheon at which he was +presented to us—that is to say since the day before yesterday.</p> + +<p>The afternoon following Rouletabille’s departure had brought us nothing +new. We received no news from him nor from Old Bob. Mme. Edith had +locked herself up in her own apartments, after having questioned the +domestics and visiting her uncle’s rooms and the Round Tower. She made +no effort to penetrate into the apartments of the Darzacs in the Square +Tower. “That is an affair for the police,” she had said. Arthur Rance +had walked for an hour on the western boulevard, his manner restless +and impatient. No one had spoken a word to me. Neither M. nor Mme. +Darzac had stirred out of “la Louve.” All of us had dined in our own +rooms. No one had seen Professor Stangerson.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>And now, so far as the eye could see, everyone in the château seemed +to be lost in dreams. But a shadow appeared on the bosom of the starry +night—the shadow of a canoe which slowly detached itself from the +shadow of the fort and glided out upon the silvery water. Whose is this +silhouette, which arises proudly in the front of the boat while another +shade bends over a silent oar? It is yours, Feodor Feodorowitch! Ah, +here is a mystery which might be easier to solve than that of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span> +Square Tower, O Rouletabille! And I who believed that Mme. Edith had +too good a brain and too fine a mind to lend herself to a vulgar +intrigue!</p> + +<p>What a hypocrite is the night! Everything seems to sleep and all +the while slumber is far from all eyes! Who was there that might +be sleeping among those in the château of Hercules? Was Mme. Edith +sleeping, perhaps? Or M. or Mme. Darzac? And how could M. Stangerson, +who seemed to have been slumbering all day, be dreaming away the night +also?—he whose couch, ever since the revelation of the Glandier, had +not ceased to be haunted by the pale ghost of insomnia? And I—could I +sleep?</p> + +<p>I left my bedchamber and went down into the court of the Bold and my +feet bore me rapidly over to the boulevard of the Round Tower—so +rapidly that I arrived there in time to see the bark of Prince Galitch +landing on the strand in front of the “Gardens of Babylon.” He leaped +out of the boat and his man, having picked up the oars, followed. I +recognized the master and servant. It was Feodor Feodorowitch and his +serf, Jean. A few seconds later, they disappeared in the protecting +shade of the century plants and the giant eucalypti.</p> + +<p>I turned and walked around the boulevard of the court. And then my +heart beating wildly, I directed my steps toward the outer court. The +stone slabs of the walks resounded under my tread and I seemed to see +a form arise in a listening attitude from beneath the arch of the +ruined chapel. I paused in the thick darkness of the shadow cast by +the gardener’s tower and drew my revolver from my pocket. The form did +not move. Was it really a human creature who stood there listening? +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span> +I glided behind a hedge of vervain which bordered the path that led +directly to “la Louve” through bushes and thickets, heavy with the +perfume of the flowers of the spring. I had made no noise, and the +shadow, doubtless reassured, made a slight movement. It was the Lady in +Black. The moon, under the half ruined arch, showed me that she was as +pale as death. And suddenly her figure vanished as if by enchantment. I +approached the chapel and as I diminished the space which lay between +me and the ruins, I heard a soft murmur of words mingled with such +bitter sobs that my own eyes grew moist as I listened. The Lady in +Black was weeping there behind that pillar. Was she alone? Had she +not chosen in this night of anguish to come to this altar decked with +flowers there to pour out her prayers in solitude to the balmy air?</p> + +<p>Suddenly I perceived a shadow beside the Lady in Black and I recognized +Robert Darzac. From the corner where I was I could now hear all that +they were saying. I knew that my behavior in listening was degraded +and shameless, but, curiously enough, it was borne upon me that it was +my duty to listen. Now I thought no longer of Edith and her Prince +Galitch. I thought only of Larsan. Why? Why was it on account of Larsan +that I bent my ears so anxiously to hear all that went on between those +two? I learned from their words that Mathilde had descended stealthily +from la Louve to be alone in the garden with her agony and that her +husband had followed her. The Lady in Black was weeping. And she took +Robert Darzac’s hands and said to him:</p> + +<p>“I know, dear—I know all your grief. You need not speak of it to me +when I see you so changed—so wretched! I accuse myself of being the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span> +cause of your sorrow. But do not tell me that I no longer love you. Oh, +I will love you dearly, Robert—just as I have always done. I promise +you.”</p> + +<p>And she seemed to sink into a deep fit of thought, while he, almost +as though incredulous, still stood as though he were listening to +her. In a moment, she looked up again and repeated in a tone of firm +conviction: “Yes—I promise you.”</p> + +<p>She pressed his hand and turned away, casting upon him a smile so +sweet and yet so sorrowful that I wondered how this woman could speak +to a man of future happiness. She brushed past me without seeing me. +She passed with her perfume and I no longer smelled the laurel bushes +behind which I was hidden.</p> + +<p>M. Darzac remained standing in the same spot, looking after her. +Suddenly he said aloud with a violence which startled me:</p> + +<p>“Yes, happiness must come! It must!”</p> + +<p>Assuredly, he was at the end of his patience. And before withdrawing +in his turn, he made a gesture of protest—against fate, it seemed to +me—a gesture of defiance to destiny—a gesture which snatched the Lady +in Black through the space which divided them and caught her to his +breast and held her there.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely made this gesture when my thought took form—my thought +which had been wandering about Larsan stopped at Darzac. Oh, how well I +remember that instant! The fancy was gone in a moment, but as I beheld +gesture of defiance and rapture, I dared to say to myself, “If HE +should be Larsan!”</p> + +<p>And in looking back to the depths of my memory, I realize now that my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span> +thought was even stronger than that. To the gesture of this man, my +mind answered with the cry, “This is Larsan!”</p> + +<p>I was white with terror and when I saw Robert Darzac coming in my +direction, I could not refrain from a movement which revealed my +presence while I was trying to conceal it. He saw me and recognized me, +and, grasping me by the arm, he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“You were there, Sainclair: you were watching. We are all watching, my +friend. And you heard what she said. Sainclair, her grief is too great. +I can bear no more. We would have been so happy. She began to believe +that misfortune had forgotten her when that man reappeared. Then all +was finished; she had no longer strength to desire love or to feel it. +She is bowed down by destiny. She imagines that she is to be pursued by +eternal punishment. It was necessary for the frightful tragedy of last +night to prove to me that this woman did love me—once. Yes, for one +moment, all her fears were for me—and I, alas, have blood on my hands +only because of her. Now she has returned to her old indifference. She +cares no longer—her only desire is that the old man shall be kept in +ignorance.”</p> + +<p>He sighed so sorrowfully and so sincerely that the abominable idea +which it had harbored fled from my mind. I thought only of what he +was saying to me—of the sorrow of this man who seemed to have lost +completely the woman whom he loved in the moment when the woman had +found a son of whose existence the husband continued to be ignorant. In +fact, he had in no way been able to understand the attitude of the Lady +in Black as regards the facility with which she had detached herself +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span> +from him—and he found no explanation for this cruel metamorphosis +other than the love heightened by remorse of Professor Stangerson’s +daughter for her father.</p> + +<p>“What good did it do me to kill him?” groaned M. Darzac. “Why did I +fire the shot? Why did she impose upon me such a criminal, horrible +silence if she did not intend to recompense me for it by her love? Did +she fear arrest for me? Ah, no! Not even that, Sainclair, not even +that! She fears only the agony of her father and the danger that he +will succumb entirely under this new disgrace. Her father! Always her +father! I do not exist for her. I have loved her for twenty years and +when I believe at last that I have won her, the thought of her father +takes my place.”</p> + +<p>And I said to myself: “The thought of her father—and of her child.”</p> + +<p>He seated himself on an old moss grown boulder by the chapel and said +again, as if speaking to himself: “But I will snatch her away from this +place—I cannot see her roaming about on the arm of her father—as if I +were not in the world.”</p> + +<p>And, while he said this, I looked up and I fancied that I beheld the +shadow of the father and the daughter passing and repassing in the +dawn, beneath the sombre height of the Tower of the North, and I +likened them in my mind to the old Oedipus and his daughter, Antigone, +walking under the walls of Colone, dragging with them the weight of a +grief beyond human endurance.</p> + +<p>And then suddenly, without my being able to recall myself to reason, +perhaps because Darzac made again the gesture which had startled me +before, the same frightful fancy assailed me, and I demanded:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span></p> + +<p>“How did it happen that the sack was empty?”</p> + +<p>He was not in the least confused or taken aback. He replied simply:</p> + +<p>“Rouletabille must tell us that.” Then he pressed my hand and wandered +away through the undergrowth of the garden. I looked after him and said +to myself:</p> + +<p>“I have gone mad!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br> +DISCOVERY OF “AUSTRALIA”</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The moon was shining full on his face. He believed himself to be alone +in the night and certainly it was one of the moments in which he would +cast aside the mask of the day. First the black glasses had ceased to +shade his eyes. And if his figure, during the hours of disguise, was +more bent than nature had made it, if his shoulders were rounded by +pretense instead of study, this was the moment when the magnificent +body of Larsan, away from all observers, must relax itself. Would it +relax now? I hid in the ditch behind the barberry hedge. Not one of his +movements escaped me.</p> + +<p>Now he was standing erect upon the western boulevard which looked like +a pedestal beneath his feet; the rays of the moon enveloped him with +a cold and mournful light. Is it you, Darzac? or your spectre? or the +ghost of Larsan, come back from the house of the dead?</p> + +<p>I felt that I had gone mad. What a piteous state was ours—all of us +madmen! We saw Larsan everywhere, and, perhaps, Darzac himself might +more than once have gazed at me, Sainclair, saying to himself: “Suppose +that he were Larsan!” More than—once! I speak as though it were years +since we had been locked up in the château and it was now just four +days. We came here on the eighth of April in the evening.</p> + +<p>It is true that my heart had never beaten so wildly when I had asked +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span> +myself the same terrible question about the others; perhaps, because +it was less terrible when there was question of any of the others. And +then, how strange that such a thought should have come to me! Instead +of my spirit recoiling in affright before the black abyss of such an +incredible hypothesis, it was, on the contrary, attracted, enchained, +horribly bewitched by it. It was as though struck with vertigo which +it could do nothing to evade. It glued my eyes to that figure standing +upon the western boulevard, making me find the attitudes, the gestures, +a strong resemblance from the rear—and then, the profile—and even the +face. Yes, all—all. He did look like Larsan. Yes, but just as strongly +did the face and figure resemble Darzac.</p> + +<p>How was it that this idea had come to me that night for the first time? +Now that I thought of it—it should have been our first hypothesis of +all. Was it not true that, at the time of “The Mystery of the Yellow +Room,” the silhouette of Larsan had been confounded at the moment of +the crime with that of Darzac? Was it not true that the man who was +believed to be Darzac, who had come to inquire for Mlle. Stangerson’s +answer at Post Office Box No. 40, had really been Larsan himself? Was +it not true that this emperor of disguises had already undertaken with +success to appear to be Darzac?—and to such good purpose that Mlle. +Stangerson’s fiancé had been accused of being the perpetrator of the +crimes committed by the other?</p> + +<p>It was true—all true—and yet when I ordered my restless heart to +be quiet and listen to reason, I knew that my hypothesis was absurd. +Absurd? Why? Look at him there, the ghost of Larsan which strides +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span> +along with long paces like those of the monster! Yes, but the shoulders +are those of Darzac.</p> + +<p>I say absurd because anyone who was not Darzac might have passed for +him in the shade and the mystery that surrounded the drama of the +Glandier. But here we have lived with the man. We have talked with +him—touched him.</p> + +<p>We have lived with him? No!</p> + +<p>To begin with, he was rarely there among us. Always locked in his own +room or bending over that useless work in the Tower of the Bold. A fine +pretext, that of drawing, to prevent anyone’s seeing your face and to +make it appear natural to answer questions without turning the head!</p> + +<p>But he was not drawing all the time! Yes, but at other times, always, +except to-night, he wore his dark glasses. Ah! that accident in the +laboratory had been well contrived. That little lamp which exploded +knew—I have always thought so, it seems to me—the service which it +was going to do for Larsan when Larsan should have taken the place of +Darzac. It permitted him to evade always and everywhere the full light +of day—because of the weakness of his eyes. How then! Was it not +always Mlle. Stangerson or Rouletabille who had managed to find dark +corners where M. Darzac’s eyes could not be exposed to the sun? But, +lately, he himself, more than anyone else now that I reflected upon it, +had been careful to keep in the shadow—we have seen him seldom and +always in the shadow. That little “hall of counsel” was very dark, “la +Louve” was dark, and he had chosen the two rooms in the Square Tower +which are plunged in semi-darkness.</p> + +<p>But still—still—Rouletabille could not be deceived like that—even +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span> +for three days. But, as the lad himself said, Larsan was born before +Rouletabille and was his father.</p> + +<p>And suddenly there recurred to my mind the first act of Darzac when he +came to meet us at Cannes and entered our compartment with us. He drew +the curtain. The shadow—always the shadow!</p> + +<p>The figure on the western boulevard is still standing there. I can look +him full in the face. No spectacles now! He was not moving. He stood +as if he were posing for a photograph. Do not stir! There! that is he! +Yes, it is Robert Darzac—only Robert Darzac!</p> + +<p>He began to walk again—I was certain no longer. There is something in +his walk which is not Darzac’s—something in which I seem to recognize +Larsan—but what?</p> + +<p>Yes, Rouletabille must have seen! And yet—Rouletabille reasons more +often than he looks! And has he ever had a chance to look at him like +this?</p> + +<p>No! We must not forget that Darzac went to spend three months in the +Midi—That is true! Ah, what might not have happened in that time! +Three months during which none of us saw him. He went away ill; he +returned almost well. There could be nothing astonishing in the fact +that a man’s appearance should be changed when he went away with the +look of a dead man and returned with the look of one living and strong!</p> + +<p>And the wedding had taken place immediately after that. How little any +of us had seen of him before the ceremony! And, besides, a week had not +yet elapsed since the marriage. A Larsan could easily wear his mask for +so short a time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span></p> + +<p>The man—was it Darzac or was it Larsan?—descended from his pedestal +and came straight toward me. Had he seen me? I crouched down behind my +barberries.</p> + +<p>(Three months of absence during which Larsan might have had a chance to +study every gesture, every mannerism of Darzac! And then—how easy to +put Darzac out of the way and to take his place and his bride! Not a +difficult trick—for a Larsan!)</p> + +<p>The voice? What more easy than to imitate the voice of a native of the +Midi? One has a little more or a little less of accent than the other, +that is all. Occasionally I have fancied that <i>his</i> accent was a +little stronger than before the wedding.</p> + +<p>He was almost upon me. He passed by. He had not seen me.</p> + +<p>“It is Larsan! I could swear that it was Larsan!”</p> + +<p>But he paused for a second and gazed sorrowfully upon all nature +slumbering around him—him whose suffering was in loneliness and +solitude, and a groan escaped his lips, unhappy soul that he was!</p> + +<p>“It is Darzac!”</p> + +<p>And then he was gone—and I remained there behind my hedge overwhelmed +with the horror of the thought which I had dared to harbor.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>How long did I remain thus, lying on the ground? One hour? Two? When +I arose, I was so stiff that I could scarcely stir and my mind was +as worn out as my body—worn out and distracted. In the course of +my unthinkable hypotheses, I had even gone so far as to ask myself +whether, by chance (by chance!) the Larsan who had been in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span> +potato sack had not succeeded in substituting himself for Darzac who +had carried him off in the little English cart with Toby drawing it, +meaning to throw him into the gulf of Castillon. I could picture the +body of the victim rising up suddenly and ordering M. Darzac to take +its place. So far from all reason had my wild supposition driven +me, that in order to drive away from my mind this ridiculous idea, +I was compelled to recall word by word a private conversation that +had occurred between M. Darzac and myself that morning when we went +out from the terrible session in the Square Tower at which had been +so clearly presented the problem of the “body too many.” In this +conversation, I had received an absolute proof of the impossibility of +my supposition. I had, while we talked, proposed to M. Darzac a few +questions in relation to Prince Galitch, whose image would not cease +to pursue me, and my friend had answered by making allusion to another +conversation, involving certain scientific facts, which had taken +place between us the night previous, and which could not possibly have +been heard by any other person than our two selves and which had also +concerned Prince Galitch. On this account, there could be no real doubt +in my mind that the Darzac whom I had talked with in the garden was +none other than the same man I had seen the evening before.</p> + +<p>As senseless as was the idea of this substitution, it was, +nevertheless, in a certain degree, pardonable. Rouletabille was a +little to blame for it by his fashion of talking of Larsan as a very +god of metamorphosis. And after casting it aside, I returned to the +sole possible idea under which Larsan could have taken the place of +Darzac—the idea of a substitution before the marriage ceremony at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span> +the time when Mlle. Stangerson’s fiancé returned to Paris after three +months absence in the Midi.</p> + +<p>The despairing plaint which Robert Darzac, believing himself alone, had +allowed to escape his lips only a little while before, in my hearing, +could not entirely banish this supposition from my head. I saw him +again entering the church of St. Nicolas du Chardonnet, in which parish +he had requested that the wedding should take place—perhaps, thought +I, because there is no darker nor more gloomy church in all Paris.</p> + +<p>Ah, one’s fancy plays strange tricks on a moonlight night, when one +is lurking behind a barberry hedge, with a mind and brain filled with +Larsan!</p> + +<p>“I am a veritable imbecile!” I told myself, beginning to wish that I +were in the quiet little room in the New Castle, where my undisturbed +bed awaited me. “For if Larsan had been masquerading as Darzac, he +would have been satisfied with carrying off Mathilde and he would not +have reappeared in his own likeness to frighten her and he would not +have brought her to the Château of Hercules and he would not have +committed the foolhardy act of showing himself again in the bark of +Tullio. For at that moment, Mathilde belonged to him and it was from +that moment that she had cast him off. The reappearance of Larsan had +divided the Lady in Black from Darzac, and, therefore, Darzac could not +be Larsan.”</p> + +<p>Dear Heaven, how my head ached! It was the moonlight above which must +have turned my brain—I was moonstruck.</p> + +<p>And then, too, had not <i>he</i> appeared to Arthur Rance himself in +the gardens at Mentone after he had accompanied Darzac to the train +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span> +which had taken him to Cannes, where he met us. If Arthur Rance had +spoken the truth, I might go to my couch in tranquility. And why should +he have lied?—Arthur Rance who had been in love with the Lady in Black +and who had not ceased to love her. Mme. Edith was not a fool—she knew +that Mme. Darzac still held the heart of the young American. Well, it +was time for me to go to bed!</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>I was still beneath the arch of the gardener’s postern and I was just +about to enter the Court of the Bold when it seemed to me that I heard +something moving—it sounded as though a door might have been closed. +Then there was a sound as of wood striking on iron. I thrust my head +out from under the arch and I believed that I could see the shadow of a +person near the door of the New Castle—a shadow which somehow seemed +to mingle with that of the castle itself. I snatched my revolver from +my pocket and with three steps was at the place where I believed I had +seen the shape. But it was there no longer. I could see nothing but +darkness. The door of the castle was closed and I was certain that +I had left it open. I was disturbed and anxious. I felt that I was +not alone—who, then, could be near me? Evidently if that shadow had +existed elsewhere than in my imagination, it could have vanished only +within the New Castle or must still be in the court.</p> + +<p>And the court was deserted.</p> + +<p>I listened attentively for more than five minutes without making the +slightest sound. Nothing! I must have been mistaken. But, nevertheless, +I did not even strike a match, and as silently as I could, I ascended +the staircase which led to my chamber. When I reached it, I locked +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span> +myself in and only then began to breathe freely.</p> + +<p>This vision or whatever it had been continued to disturb me more than I +was willing to confess to myself, and even after I had gotten into bed +I could not sleep. Without my being able to account for it at all this +vision and the thought of Darzac-Larsan began to mingle strangely in my +restless spirit.</p> + +<p>The effect on my mind was so strong that, at last, I said to myself: “I +shall never know peace again until I am certain that M. Darzac is not +Larsan. And I shall take means to make myself certain, one way or the +other, on the first occasion.”</p> + +<p>Yes, but how? Pull his beard off? If my suspicion was baseless, +he would take me for a madman, or else he would guess what I was +thinking of and such a knowledge would add yet another to the load of +misfortunes, already too heavy for him to bear. Only this misery was +lacking to him still—to know that he was suspected of being Larsan.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I threw off the bedclothes, jumped up and cried almost aloud:</p> + +<p>“Australia!”</p> + +<p>An episode had returned to my mind of which I have spoken at the +beginning of this story. The reader may remember that, at the time of +the accident in the laboratory, I had accompanied M. Robert Darzac to +a druggist. While his injuries were being attended to, he had been +obliged to remove his study coat, and the sleeve of his shirt had +fallen back, leaving his arm bare through the entire session with +the druggist, and placing in full view just above the right elbow, a +large birth mark, the shape of which resembled that of Australia as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span> +it appears on the maps in the geographies. Mentally, while the chemist +was at work, I had amused myself by trying to locate upon the arm in +the positions which they occupied on an actual map, the cities of +Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, etc.; and directly beneath this large +mark, there was another smaller one which was situated like the country +known as Tasmania.</p> + +<p>And when, by any chance, the thought of that accident had happened +to recur to my mind, I had always thought of the half hour at the +chemist’s and the birthmark shaped like the outlines of Australia.</p> + +<p>And in this sleepless night, it was the thought of Australia that came +to me.</p> + +<p>Seated on the edge of my bed, I had scarcely had time to congratulate +myself upon having found a means to prove decisively the identity +of Robert Darzac and to try to devise some way of bringing it to an +immediate test, when a singular sound made me prick up my ears. The +sound was repeated—one would have said that gravel was cracking +beneath slow and cautious footsteps.</p> + +<p>Breathless, I hurried to my door and, with my ear at the keyhole, +I listened. Silence for a moment and then once more the same +sound—footsteps, beyond a doubt. Someone was now ascending the +staircase—and someone who desired his presence to be unknown. I +thought of the shadow which I had believed I saw as I was entering the +Court of the Bold—whose could this shadow be and what was it doing on +the staircase? Was it coming up or going down?</p> + +<p>Silence again! I profited by it to hastily don my trousers and, armed +with my revolver, I succeeded in opening my door without letting it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span> +creak on its hinges. Holding my breath, I advanced to the head of the +stairs and waited. I have told of the state of dilapidation of the New +Castle. The pale rays of the moonlight entered obliquely through the +high windows which opened at each landing, cutting with exact squares +of soft light the black darkness of the stairway which was very wide +and high. The ruined condition of the château, thus lighted up in +spots, only appeared more complete. The broken balustrade and railings +of the staircase, the walls overrun with lizards over which here and +there hung floating rags of once priceless tapestry—all these things +which I had scarcely noticed in the daylight, struck me strangely in +this lonely night and my whirling brain felt quite prepared to find +in this gloomy scene the fit setting for the appearance of a phantom. +Indeed and in truth, I was afraid. The shadow which I had seen a little +while ago had practically slipped between my fingers—for I had been +near enough to have touched it. But, surely a phantom might walk in an +empty house without making any sound. Though the footsteps were silent +now!</p> + +<p>All at once, as I was leaning on the broken balustrade, I saw the +shadow again—it was lighted up by the moonbeams as though it were a +flambeau. And I recognized Robert Darzac.</p> + +<p>He had reached the ground floor, and, crossing the vestibule, raised +his head and looked in my direction as though he felt the weight of my +eyes upon him. Instinctively, I drew back. And then I returned to my +post of observation just in time to see him disappear into a corridor +which led to another staircase winding up to the battlements. What +could this mean? Was Robert Darzac spending the night in the New +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span> +Castle? Why did he take such precautions not to be seen? A thousand +suspicions crossed my mind—or rather all the terrible thoughts that +had come to haunt me since we had been in the Fort of Hercules seized +me again in their grasp and I felt that I must set my spirit at rest, +immediately. I must follow Robert Darzac and discover “Australia.”</p> + +<p>I had reached the corridor almost as soon as he quitted it and I +saw him beginning to climb very quietly the moth eaten wood of the +stairway. I saw him pause at the first landing and push open a door. +Then I saw nothing more. He had been swallowed up by the darkness—and, +perhaps, by the room of which he had opened the door. I reached this +door and finding it locked, I gave three little taps, certain that he +was inside. And I waited. My heart was beating wildly. All these rooms +were uninhabited—abandoned. What should M. Darzac be doing in one of +these haunted chambers!</p> + +<p>I waited for a few moments which seemed to me like hours and as no one +answered and the door did not open, I knocked again and waited again. +Then the door was opened and I heard Darzac’s voice saying:</p> + +<p>“Is it you, Sainclair? What is it, my friend?”</p> + +<p>“I wanted to know what you could be doing here at such an hour?” I +replied, and it seemed to me that my voice was that of another man, so +great was my terror.</p> + +<p>Tranquilly, he struck a match and said:</p> + +<p>“You see. I am preparing for bed.”</p> + +<p>And he lit a candle which was placed on a chair, for there was no night +stand in this dilapidated apartment. A bed in one corner—an iron bed +which must have been brought there during the day, and a single chair, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span> +comprised all the furnishings.</p> + +<p>“I thought that you were going to sleep near Mme. Darzac and the +Professor on the first floor of ‘la Louve’?”</p> + +<p>“The rooms are too small. I was afraid of inconveniencing Mme. Darzac,” +answered the unhappy man, bitterly. “I asked Bernier to fetch me a bed +here. And then what difference does it make where I am, since I do not +sleep?”</p> + +<p>We were both silent for a moment. I was ashamed of myself and of my +wretched suspicions. And, frankly, my remorse was so great that I could +not refrain from giving it expression. I confessed everything to him; +my infamous ideas and how I had even believed when I saw him wandering +so mysteriously over the New Castle that it was upon some evil errand; +and so had decided to go and look for the “Australia” birthmark. For I +did not conceal from him that for a moment, I had placed all my hopes +upon the Australia.</p> + +<p>He listened to me with such an expression of reproachful sorrow that it +wrung my heart; then he quietly rolled up his shirt sleeve and bringing +his bare arm close to the light, he showed me the birthmark, which made +a sane man of me once more. I did not wish to look at it, but he even +insisted upon my touching it and I knew beyond a doubt that it was a +natural scar upon which one might place little dots with the names of +the cities, “Sydney,” “Melbourne,” “Adelaide.” And beneath it there was +another little blotch shaped like Tasmania.</p> + +<p>“You may rub it as much as you choose,” said Darzac, gently, “It will +not come off.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span></p> + +<p>I begged his pardon a thousand times over, with tears in my eyes, but +he would not forgive me until he had made me pull at his beard which +remained firmly attached to his chin, instead of coming off in my hand.</p> + +<p>Then, only, he allowed me to go back to my room, which I did, cursing +myself for an idiot.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br> +OLD BOB’S TERRIBLE ADVENTURE</h2> +</div> + + +<p>When I awakened my thoughts were still dwelling on Larsan. And, in +truth, I did not know what to think either of myself or any other +person—of Larsan’s death or of his life. Had he been wounded less +seriously than we had thought? Or shall I say, “Was he <i>less dead</i> +than we had thought?” Had he been able to extricate himself from +the sack which Darzac had cast in the gulf of Castillon? After all, +the thing was not impossible, or, rather, the possibility was not +altogether without the bounds of what might be looked for from the +superhuman cunning and prowess of a Larsan—particularly since Walter +had explained that he had found the sack three meters from the mouth +of the abyss upon a natural landing place the existence of which M. +Darzac assuredly did not suspect when he believed that he was throwing +Larsan’s body into the orifice.</p> + +<p>My second thoughts turned to Rouletabille. What was he doing now? Why +had he gone away? Never had his presence at the Fort of Hercules been +so necessary as now. If he delayed his return, this day could scarcely +pass without bringing the unfriendly feeling between the Rances and the +Darzacs to an open issue.</p> + +<p>As I lay there puzzling my brain over the outcome of the affair, I +heard someone knocking at my door. It was Pere Bernier, who brought me +a brief note from my friend which had been handed to Pere Jacques by a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span> +little lad from the village. Rouletabille wrote: “I shall return early +in the morning. Get up as soon as this reaches you and be good enough +to go fishing for my breakfast and catch some of the fine trout which +are so plentiful among the rocks near the Point of Garibaldi. Do not +lose an instant. Thanks and remembrances.—<span class="allsmcap">ROULETABILLE.</span>”</p> + +<p>This communication gave me more food for thought, for I knew by +experience that whenever Rouletabille seemed most occupied with trivial +matters, his activity was really most thoroughly engaged with important +subjects.</p> + +<p>I dressed myself in haste, provided myself with some old tackle which +was furnished me by Bernier, and set out to obey the request of my +young friend. As I went out of the North gate, having encountered +nobody at that early hour of the morning (it was about seven o’clock), +I was joined by Mme. Edith, to whom I showed what Rouletabille had +written. The young woman was greatly dejected over the unexplained +absence of her uncle, remarked that the letter was “so queer that it +made her nervous,” and she informed me that she intended to follow me +to the trout streams. On the way, she confided to me the fact that +her uncle had not an enemy in the world, so far as she knew, and she +said that she had been hoping against hope that he would yet return +and that everything would be satisfactorily explained, but now the +idea had entered her brain that by some frightful mistake, Old Bob had +fallen a victim to the vengeance of Darzac and she was nearly wild with +apprehension.</p> + +<p>And she added, between her pretty teeth, a few words of contempt and +wrath for the Lady in Black. “My patience can hold out until noon, I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span> +hope!” she said, and then was silent.</p> + +<p>We started to fish for Rouletabille’s trout. Mrs. Rance and I both +removed our shoes and stockings, but I concerned myself more about +the dainty bare feet of my pretty hostess than about my own. The fact +is, that Edith’s feet, as I discovered in the Bay of Hercules, were +as beautifully shaped and pink as flowers and they made me forget the +trout of my poor Rouletabille to such an extent that he must certainly +have gone without his breakfast if Edith had not shown more energy than +I. She clambered into the pools and crept among the rocks with a grace +which enchanted me more than I dared express. Suddenly we both desisted +from our task and pricked up our ears at the same moment. We heard +cries from the shore where the grottoes are. Upon the very threshold +of the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet we distinguished a little group, the +persons in which were making gestures of appeal. Urged on by the same +presentiment, we hastily rushed to the beach and in a few seconds we +learned that, attracted by moans, two fishermen had just discovered in +a cave in the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet an unfortunate human being who +had fallen into the chasm and who must have been there helpless for +several hours.</p> + +<p>The quick conjecture which rushed into both our minds at once proved to +be the right one. It was Old Bob who had been fished out of the cave. +When he had been drawn up on the beach in the full light of day, he +certainly presented a pitiable spectacle. His beautiful black coat was +torn and covered with mud and his white shirt was as black as tar. Mme. +Edith burst into tears and nearly went into hysterics when she found +that the old man had a broken collar bone and a sprained foot. And he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span> +was so pale that he looked as if he were going to die on the spot.</p> + +<p>Happily, the case was far less serious than it at first appeared. Ten +minutes later he was, according to his own orders, stretched out on +his bed in his room in the Square Tower. But could anyone believe that +he absolutely refused to be undressed, even so far as to have his coat +removed, before the arrival of the doctors? Mme. Edith, more and more +nervous, installed herself as his nurse; but when the physicians came, +Old Bob ordered his niece not only to leave his room but to go out of +the Square Tower altogether. And he insisted that the door should be +locked after her.</p> + +<p>This last precaution was a great surprise to us all. We were assembled +in the Court of the Bold, M. and Mme. Darzac, M. Arthur Rance and +myself, as well as Pere Bernier who haunted my footsteps, awaiting +the news. When Mme. Edith quitted the tower after the arrival of the +medical men, she came to us and said:</p> + +<p>“Let us hope that his injuries won’t be serious. Old Bob is solid as a +rock. What did I tell you about him? I have made his confess, the old +sinner! He was trying to steal Prince Galitch’s skull which he believed +to be more ancient than his own. Just the jealousy of one savant toward +another. We shall all laugh at him when he is cured!”</p> + +<p>At that moment the door of the Square Tower opened and Walter, Old +Bob’s faithful servant, appeared. His face was pale and he seemed very +nervous.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss Edith!” he cried out. “He is covered with blood! He doesn’t +want anything to be said about it, but he must be saved——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span></p> + +<p>Edith had already rushed into the Square Tower. As to us we dared not +utter a word. Soon the young woman returned.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she sobbed. “It is frightful. His whole breast is torn open!”</p> + +<p>I started to offer her the support of my arm, for, strangely enough +M. Arthur Rance had withdrawn to some distance and was walking upon +the boulevard, whistling and with his hands behind his back. I tried +to comfort and to soothe Mme. Edith, but neither M. nor Mme. Darzac +uttered a word.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>Rouletabille reached the castle about an hour after these events. I +watched for his return from the highest part of the western boulevard +and as soon as I saw his form appearing in the distance I hurried to +meet him. He cut short my demands for an explanation and asked me +immediately if I had made a good catch, but I was not at all deceived +by the expression of his countenance, and wishing to reply to him in +his own style of banter, I replied:</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes: a very good catch. I fished up Old Bob.”</p> + +<p>He started violently. I shrugged my shoulders, for I believed that he +was counterfeiting surprise, and I went on:</p> + +<p>“Oh, go on! You knew very well what kind of fish I should find when you +sent your message!”</p> + +<p>He fixed an astonished glance on me.</p> + +<p>“You certainly must be unaware of the purport of your words, my dear +Sainclair, or else you would have spared me the trouble of protesting +against such an accusation.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span></p> + +<p>“What accusation?” I cried.</p> + +<p>“That of having left Old Bob in the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet, knowing +that he might be dying there.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nonsense!” I cried. “Old Bob is far from dying. He has a sprained +foot and a broken collar bone, and his story of his misfortune is +perfectly plain and straightforward. He declares that he was trying to +steal Prince Galitch’s skull.”</p> + +<p>“What a funny idea!” exclaimed Rouletabille, bursting out laughing. He +leaned toward me and looked full into my eyes.</p> + +<p>“Do you believe that story? And—and that is all? No other injuries?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I replied. “There is another injury, but the doctors declare +that it is not at all serious. He has a wound in the breast.”</p> + +<p>“A wound in the breast!” repeated Rouletabille, touching my hand, +nervously. “And how was this wound made?”</p> + +<p>“We do not know. None of us have seen it. Old Bob is strangely modest. +He would not even permit his coat to be taken off in our presence; and +the coat hid the wound so well that we should never have suspected it +was there if Walter had not come to tell us, frightened at the sight of +the blood.”</p> + +<p>As soon as we came to the château, we encountered Mme. Edith, who +appeared to have been watching for us.</p> + +<p>“My uncle won’t have me near him,” she said, regarding Rouletabille +with an air of anxiety different from anything I had ever noticed in +her before. “It’s incomprehensible!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span></p> + +<p>“Ah, Madame,” replied the reporter, making a low bow to his hostess. “I +assure you that nothing in the world is incomprehensible, when one is +willing to take a little trouble to understand it.” And he offered her +his congratulations upon having had her uncle restored to her at the +moment when she was ready to despair of ever seeing him again.</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith seemed about to inquire into the purport of the enigmatical +words at the beginning of my friend’s remarks when we were joined by +Prince Galitch. He had come to ask for news of his old friend, Bob, of +whose misfortune he had learned. Mme. Edith reassured him as to her +uncle’s condition and entreated the Prince to pardon her relative for +his too excessive devotion to the “oldest skulls in the history of +humanity.” The Prince smiled graciously and with the utmost kindliness +when he was told that Old Bob had been attempting to steal his skull.</p> + +<p>“You will find your skull,” Mrs. Rance told him, “in the bottom of the +cave in the grotto where it rolled down with him. Your collection will +be unimpaired, Prince.”</p> + +<p>The Prince asked for the details. He seemed very curious about the +affair. And Mme. Edith told how her uncle had acknowledged to her +that he had quitted the Fort of Hercules by way of the air shaft +which communicated with the sea. As soon as she said this, I recalled +the experience of Rouletabille with the flask of water and also the +close iron bars, and the falsehoods which Old Bob had uttered assumed +gigantic proportions in my mind, and I was sure that the rest of the +party must hold the same opinion as myself. Mme. Edith told us that +Tullio had been waiting with his boat at the opening of the gallery +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span> +abutting on the shaft, to row the old savant to the bank in front of +the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet.</p> + +<p>“Why so many twists and turnings when it was so simple to go out by the +gate?” I could not restrain myself from exclaiming.</p> + +<p>Mme. Edith looked at me reproachfully and I regretted having even +seemed to have taken part against her in any way.</p> + +<p>“And this is stranger yet!” said the Prince. “Day before yesterday, the +‘hangman of the sea’ came to bid me adieu, saying that he was going to +leave the country, and I am sure that he took the train for Venice, his +native city, at five o’clock in the afternoon. How then could he have +conveyed your uncle in his boat late that night? In the first place, he +was not in this part of the world; in the second, he had sold his boat. +He told me so, adding that he would never return to this country.”</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence and Prince Galitch continued:</p> + +<p>“All this is of little importance—provided that your uncle, Madame, +recovers speedily from his injuries and, again,” he added with another +smile, more charming than those which had preceded it—“if you will +aid me in regaining a poor piece of flint which has disappeared from +the grotto and of which I will give you the description. It is a sharp +piece of flint, twenty-five centimeters long and shaped at one end to +the form of a dagger—in brief, the oldest dagger of the human race. I +value it greatly and, perhaps you may be able to learn, Madame, through +your uncle, Bob, what has become of it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span></p> + +<p>Mme. Edith at once gave her promise to the Prince, with a certain air +of haughtiness which pleased me greatly, that she would do everything +possible to obtain for him news of so precious an object. The Prince +bowed low and left us. When we had finished returning his parting +salutes, we saw M. Arthur Rance before us. He must have heard the +conversation for he seemed very thoughtful. He had his ivory-headed +cane in his hand, and was whistling, according to his habit. And he +looked at Mme. Edith with an expression so strange that she appeared +somewhat exasperated.</p> + +<p>“I know exactly what you are thinking, sir!” she said. “It does not +astonish me in the least. And you may keep on thinking so, if it amuses +you, for aught I care.”</p> + +<p>And she stepped nearer Rouletabille, smiling nervously.</p> + +<p>“At all events,” she exclaimed. “You can never explain to me how, when +<i>he</i> was outside the Square Tower, <i>he</i> could have hidden behind +that panel.”</p> + +<p>“Madame,” said Rouletabille, slowly and impressively, looking at the +young woman as though he were trying to hypnotize her, “have patience +and have courage. If God is with me, before night I shall explain to +you all that you wish to know.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br> +HOW DEATH STALKED ABROAD AT NOONDAY</h2> +</div> + + +<p>A little later, I found myself in the lower parlor of “la Louve,” +tete-a-tete with Mme. Edith. I attempted to reassure her, seeing how +restless and nervous she was; but she buried her pale face in her hands +and her trembling lips allowed the confession of her fears to escape +them.</p> + +<p>“I am frightened!” she murmured. I asked her what frightened her and +she looked at me wildly and said, “And aren’t you afraid, too?” I kept +silence, for I was afraid, myself. She said again. “You know something +of what is going on—here or there or all around us! Ah, I am all +alone! all alone! And I am so frightened.” She turned toward the door.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“I am going to look for someone. I won’t stay here alone.”</p> + +<p>“For whom are you going to look?”</p> + +<p>“For Prince Galitch.”</p> + +<p>“Your ‘Feodor Feodorowitch!’” I cried. “What do you want with him? Am I +not here?”</p> + +<p>Her nervousness, unfortunately, seemed to increase in proportion to my +efforts to drive it away and I began to realize that a fearful doubt as +to the personality of her uncle, Old Bob, had entered her mind.</p> + +<p>“Let us go out into the air!” she said, impatiently. “I can’t breathe +in this place.” We left “la Louve” and entered the garden. It was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span> +approaching the hour of noontide and the court was a dream of perfumed +beauty. As we had not donned our smoked spectacles, we were obliged +to put our hands before our eyes in order to shield them from the +glaring rays of the sun and the too glowing hues of the flowers. The +giant geraniums struck on our eyeballs like bleeding wounds. When we +had grown a little more used to the dazzling sight, we advanced over +the shining sands, Edith clinging to my hand like a little child. Her +hand burned hotter than the sun and seemed like a veritable flame. We +looked down at our feet in order to prevent our eyes from falling on +the blinding expanse of the waters and also, it may be, in order not to +glance toward the buildings in which so many strange things had taken +place—perhaps, were taking place even now.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid!” murmured Edith once more. And I, too, was +afraid—overwhelmed after the mysteries of the night by the vast, +desolate silence of the noon.</p> + +<p>The broad glare of daylight in which one knows that something strange +and terrible is going on is more awful than the deepest and darkest +night. Everything sleeps and yet everything wakes. Everything is dead +and everything is living. Everything is wrapped in silence and still +there are sounds everywhere. Listen to your own ear. It sounds as loud +as a conch shell filled with the most mysterious sounds of the sea. +Close your lids and look into your own eyes; you will find there a +throng of crowding visions more mysterious than the phantoms of the +night.</p> + +<p>I looked at Mme. Edith. Beads of perspiration stood out on her forehead +and her face was pale as death. I was trembling and chilled, for, alas! +I could do nothing to help her and destiny was weaving its inexorable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span> +web all around us and that nothing which we could say or do would +hinder in the slightest degree its slow, undeviating march. Edith led +the way toward the postern gate which opens upon the Court of the Bold. +The vault of this postern formed a black arch in the light and at the +extremity of this tunnel, we perceived, facing us, Rouletabille and +M. Darzac, who were standing at the edge of the inner court, like two +white statues. Rouletabille was holding in his hand Arthur Rance’s +ivory-headed cane. Why this latter fact should have disturbed me, I +do not know, but so it was. Motioning with the cane, he showed Robert +Darzac something on the summit of the vault which we could not see and +then he pointed us out in the same way. We could not hear what he said. +The two talked together for a few moments with their lips scarcely +moving, like two accomplices in some dark secret. Mme. Edith paused, +but Rouletabille beckoned to her, repeating the signal with his cane.</p> + +<p>“Oh, what does he want with me now?” she cried like a frightened child. +“Oh, M. Sainclair, I am so miserable. I am going to tell my uncle +everything and we shall see what will happen then.”</p> + +<p>We went on until we reached the vault and the others watched us without +making a movement to meet us. They stood like two statues, and I said +aloud in a voice which sounded strangely in my own ears:</p> + +<p>“What are you two doing here?”</p> + +<p>We had come up close to them by this time, upon the threshold of the +Court of the Bold, and they bade us turn around with our backs toward +the court so that we could see what they were looking at. There was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span> +on top of the arch, an escutcheon, the shield of the Mortola, barred +with the mark of the cadet branch. This escutcheon had been carved +in a stone now loose, which seemed in imminent danger of falling and +crushing the heads of the passers by. Rouletabille had without doubt +noticed this danger, and he asked Mme. Edith if she had any objections +to its being pulled down until it could be replaced more solidly.</p> + +<p>“I am sure that it will fall before long and it might do serious +damage,” he said, touching it with the end of his cane, and then +passing the stick to Mme. Edith.</p> + +<p>“You are taller than I,” he went on. “See if you can reach it.”</p> + +<p>But both she and I tried in vain to touch the stone; it was too high +for us and I was about to inquire what was the meaning of this singular +exercise when all at once, behind my back, <i>I heard the cry of a +dying man in his last agony</i>.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>We turned with one impulse, uttering an exclamation of horror. Ah, +that cry of mortal agony which rang out on the air of the noonday just +as it had through the night! Would we never be free from murder? When +would that fearful sound which I had heard for the first time that +night at the Glandier, never be done with announcing to us that a new +victim had been struck down among us? that one of our own number had +fallen beneath some fatal blow, as suddenly as though by some frightful +pestilence? Surely, the mark of the epidemic itself is less invisible +and terrible than that of the hand which kills.</p> + +<p>We all stood there, shivering, our eyes wide with horror, questioning +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</span> +the deeps of the sky still vibrating from that cry of death. Who was +dead? Who was dying? What expiring breath had emitted that terrible +sound? One might have thought that it was the clearness of the day +itself which cried out in suffering.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille was the most terrified of us all. I have seen him, under +the most untoward circumstances, maintain a composure which seemed +greater than any human creature could hold; I have seen him, at a like +horrible cry of death, rush into the danger of the darkness and cast +himself like a heroic rescuer into the sea of shadows. Why should he +tremble so to-day in the full splendor of the noon? He remained fixed +to the spot, as weak as a baby, he, who a little while ago, declared +that he would prove himself the master of the hour. He had not foreseen +this moment then? this moment in which a human life had been snatched +away under the noonday sun!</p> + +<p>Mattoni, who was passing through the garden, and who had also heard the +cry, rushed up. At a gesture from Rouletabille he stood rooted to the +spot an immovable sentinel; and now the young man had gained sufficient +power to advance toward the cry—or, at least, toward the center of the +cry, for it seemed still to echo everywhere around us and to circle +about in the all embracing space. And we hurried behind him, our breath +coming fast, our arms stretched out, as one holds them when one is +groping in the dark and fears to stumble against something which one +does not see.</p> + +<p>We approached the place from which the shriek had come and when we +had passed the shade of the eucalyptus we found the cause. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</span> +cry had come, indeed, from a soul passing into the unknown. It was +Bernier—Bernier in whose throat sounded the death rattle, who was +trying in vain to rise and who was at the last gasp of his life. It was +Bernier from whose breast flowed a stream of blood—Bernier over whom +we leaned, and who, with one last, fearful struggle, summoned strength +enough to utter the two words: “Frederic Larsan!”</p> + +<p>Then his head fell back and he was dead. Frederic Larsan! Frederic +Larsan! He who was everywhere and nowhere! He always and forever. Here, +yet again, was his mark. A dead body—and no one anywhere near who +could have committed the murder, by any possibility of human reason. +For the only means of egress from the spot on which the crime had +occurred was by this postern where we four had been standing. And we +had turned, with one impulse and one movement, at the very instant +that the cry rang out—so quickly that we had almost seen the stroke +of death given. And when we looked, there had not even been a shadow +before our eyes—nothing but the light!</p> + +<p>We rushed, moved by the same sentiment, it seemed to me, into the +Square Tower, the door of which still stood open; we entered in a +body the bedroom of Old Bob, passing through the empty sitting room. +The injured man was lying quietly on his bed within, and near him a +woman was watching—Mere Bernier. Both were as calm and still as the +day itself. But when the wife of the dead concierge saw our faces she +uttered a cry of affright, as though smitten by the knowledge of some +calamity. She had heard nothing. She knew nothing. But she rushed into +the air like a streak of lightning and went straight, as though +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</span> +impelled by some hidden force, directly to the place where the body was +lying.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_010" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_010.jpg" width="1000" height="677" alt="A wounded man is lying on the ground. His body is sprawled and a gun near his hand. A man in a hat and suit bends down, seemingly checking on the injured man. To the right, a woman dressed in an elegant gown with a large hat is clutching at her head."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>It was Bernier! It was Bernier who lay there, the death +rattle in his throat and a stream of blood flowing from his breast.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>And now it was her groans that sounded on the air, under the terrible +sun of the Midi, over the bleeding corpse. We tore the shirt from +the dead man’s breast and found a gaping wound just above the heart. +Rouletabille looked up with the same expression which I had seen at the +Glandier when he came to examine the wound of the “inexplicable body.”</p> + +<p>“One would say that it was the same stroke of the knife!” he said. “It +is the same measurement. But where is the knife?”</p> + +<p>We looked for the weapon everywhere without finding it. The man who had +struck the blow had carried the knife away. Where was the man? Who was +he? What we did not know, Bernier had known before he died and it was, +perhaps, because of that knowledge that his life had been forfeited. +“Frederic Larsan!” We repeated the last words of the dying man in fear +and trembling.</p> + +<p>Suddenly on the threshold of the postern, we saw the Prince Galitch, +a newspaper in his hand. He was reading as he came toward us. His air +was jovial and his face wore a smile. But Mme. Edith rushed up to him, +snatched the paper from his hands, pointed to the corpse and cried out:</p> + +<p>“A man has been murdered! Send for the police!”</p> + +<p>The Prince stared at the body and then at us without uttering a word +and then turned hastily away, saying that he would send for the +authorities immediately. Mere Bernier kept up her wild lamentations. +Rouletabille seated himself on the edge of the shaft. He seemed to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</span> +have lost all his strength. He spoke to Mme. Edith in a low tone:</p> + +<p>“Let the police come then, Madame, but remember, it is you who have +insisted upon it!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rance gave him a withering glance from her black eyes. And I knew +what her thoughts were as well as though she had spoken them out. She +felt that she hated Rouletabille, who had for a single moment been able +to make her suspect Old Bob. While Bernier had been assassinated, had +not Old Bob been quietly in his chamber, watched over by Mere Bernier +herself?</p> + +<p>Rouletabille was examining the iron bars and heavy lid which closed +the shaft, but his manner was distrait and discouraged. After he had +finished what seemed to be a very careless inspection he stretched +himself out on the ground as if it were a couch in which he was trying +to get some rest. Turning once more to his hostess, he said in the same +low voice:</p> + +<p>“And what will you tell the police when they get here?”</p> + +<p>“Everything!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rance fairly snapped out the word between her teeth, her eyes +flashing fire. Rouletabille shook his head sorrowfully and closed his +eyes. He seemed utterly exhausted and vanquished. Robert Darzac touched +him on his shoulder. M. Darzac wanted to search through the Square +Tower, the Tower of the Bold, the New Castle—all the dependencies +of the fort from which no one could have made his escape, and where, +therefore, the assassin must still be concealed. The reporter shook his +head drearily, and said that it would be of no use. Rouletabille and I +knew only too well that any search would be in vain. Had we not made +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</span> +a search at the Glandier after the phenomenon of the dissolution of +matter, for the man who had disappeared in the inexplicable gallery? +No, no! I had learned that there was no use in looking for Larsan with +one’s eyes.</p> + +<p>A man had been murdered just behind our backs. We had heard him cry +out when the blow struck him down. We had turned around and had seen +nothing except the daylight. To see clearly, it was better to close the +eyes as Rouletabille was doing at this moment.</p> + +<p>And when he opened them, he was another man! A new energy animated +his features. He stood erect as though he had thrown off a weight. He +clenched his fist and raised it toward the heavens.</p> + +<p>“That is not possible!” he cried. “Or there is no more good in +reasoning.”</p> + +<p>And he threw himself on the ground, creeping on his hands and knees, +his nose to the earth, like a hound following the scent, going round +the body of poor Bernier and around Mere Bernier, who had blankly +refused to leave her husband—around the shaft—around each of us. He +moved about like a pig, nosing its nourishment out of the mire, and we +all stood still, looking at him curiously and half in alarm. Suddenly +he started to his feet, almost white with dust and uttered a shout of +triumph as though he had found Larsan himself in the gravel. What new +victory did the boy feel that he had achieved over the mystery? What +had given this new firmness to his step and steadiness to his glance? +What had given back to him the strength of his voice? For when he +addressed M. Robert Darzac his tones were full of vigor and resolution.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</span></p> + +<p>“It’s all right, Monsieur! <i>Nothing is changed!</i>”</p> + +<p>And, turning to Mme. Edith—</p> + +<p>“There is nothing more to do, Madame, except to wait for the police. I +hope that they will not be long.”</p> + +<p>The unhappy woman shuddered. I knew that she was again struck with +mortal fear.</p> + +<p>“Yes, let them come!” she cried, taking my arm. “And let them attend to +everything! Let them think for us! Whatever may happen, let it come as +soon as it will.”</p> + +<p>Attracted by the sound of voices we looked around and saw Pere Jacques +approaching, followed by two gendarmes. It was the brigadier of la +Mortola, who, summoned by Prince Galitch, had hurried to the scene of +the crime.</p> + +<p>“The gendarmes! the gendarmes! They say that murder has been done!” +exclaimed Pere Jacques, who as yet knew nothing of what had happened.</p> + +<p>“Be calm, Pere Jacques!” exhorted Rouletabille, and when the old man, +panting and breathless, drew near to the reporter, the latter said to +him in low tones:</p> + +<p>“<i>Nothing is changed</i>, Pere Jacques!”</p> + +<p>But Pere Jacques was gazing at Bernier’s body.</p> + +<p>“Only one more dead man!” he sighed. “This is Larsan’s work again!”</p> + +<p>“It is the work of destiny!” answered Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>Larsan and destiny—both were as one. But what did Rouletabille mean by +his “Nothing is changed,” if not that, despite the incidental murder of +Bernier, everything which we dreaded, which made us shudder and which +we had no understanding of, continued just as before?</p> + +<p>The gendarmes were busy examining the body and chattering over it in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</span> +their uncomprehensible jargon. The brigadier informed us that they had +telephoned to the Garibaldi Tavern, a few steps away, where at this +moment the delegato, or special commissioner, stationed at Vintimille, +was even now breakfasting. The delegato would have power to begin the +investigation, which would be continued when the examining magistrate +had been notified.</p> + +<p>The delegato arrived. It was easily to be seen that he was enchanted, +even though he had not had the time to finish his repast. A crime! +actually a crime! And in the Château of Hercules. He was fairly +radiant; his eyes shone. He was full of business, full of importance. +He ordered the brigadier to station one of his men at the gate of the +château with directions to permit no person to pass in or out. Then he +knelt down beside the body while a gendarme, despite her protestations +and tears, led Mere Bernier away to the Square Tower, where her groans +sounded louder than ever. The delegato examined the wound and said in +very good French:</p> + +<p>“That was a magnificent stroke!”</p> + +<p>The man was enchanted. If he had had the assassin under arrest, he +would assuredly have paid him his compliments. He looked at us. Then he +looked at us again. Perhaps he was seeking among us for the criminal to +tell him of his admiration. At last he rose from his knees.</p> + +<p>“And now how did all this happen?” he asked encouragingly, smacking +his lips as though in the anticipation of hearing a story of thrilling +interest. “It is terrible!” he added—“terrible! In the five years +that I have been delegato, we have never had a murder. Monsieur the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</span> +examining magistrate——.” Here he checked himself but we knew well +what he had been on the point of saying: “Monsieur the examining +magistrate will be very much pleased.” He brushed away the white dust +which covered his knees, wiped the perspiration from his forehead +and repeated “It is terrible!” his Southern accent seeming to grow +stronger. And at that moment, he noticed in a new arrival who entered +the court, a doctor from Mentone who had come to continue his treatment +of Old Bob.</p> + +<p>“Ah, doctor, I am glad that you are here! Just look at this wound and +tell me what you think of such a knife stroke. But be as careful as +possible about changing the position of the corpse before the arrival +of the examining magistrate.”</p> + +<p>The doctor sounded the depth of the wound and gave us all the technical +details which we could desire. There was no doubt about it at all. +It was a truly magnificent stroke of the knife which had penetrated +from high to low in the cardiac region and the point of the knife had +certainly opened a ventricle. During the colloquy between the delegato +and the doctor, Rouletabille never took his eyes off Mme. Edith, who +was still clinging to my arm as though she knew that I was her only +refuge. Her eyes fell before the eyes of Rouletabille which seemed to +hypnotize her and to command her to be silent. But I knew that she was +trembling with the desire to speak.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>At the request of the delegato, we all entered the Square Tower. We +took our places in Old Bob’s sitting room, where the inquest was to +be held and where each of us in turn recounted what we had seen and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</span> +heard. Mere Bernier was first questioned, but little or nothing could +be gained from her testimony. She declared that she knew nothing about +anything. She had been in Old Bob’s bedroom, attending to the needs of +the injured man, when we had rushed madly into the room. She had been +with Old Bob for an hour, having left her husband in the lodge of the +Square Tower, ready to work at making a rope.</p> + +<p>It was a curious fact, but I was less interested at that moment in what +was going on under my eyes than in what I could not see and yet knew +<i>that I expected</i>.</p> + +<p>Would Edith speak? She was looking out of the open window, her lips +compressed, her brows drawn. A gendarme was standing near the corpse +over the face of which a handkerchief had been laid. Edith, like +myself, was paying very little heed to what was going on inside the +room. Her eyes were fixed upon Bernier’s body.</p> + +<p>An exclamation from the delegato struck upon our ears. The further the +evidence of the witnesses progressed, the greater became the amazement +of the Commissioner, and the more and more inexplicable he found the +crime. He was on the point of finding it impossible that it should +have been committed at all, when it came Mme. Edith’s turn to be +interrogated.</p> + +<p>They questioned her. Her lips were already opened to answer the first +question when Rouletabille’s quiet voice was heard:</p> + +<p>“Look at the end of the shadow of the eucalyptus.”</p> + +<p>“What is there at the end of the shadow of the eucalyptus?” demanded +the delegato.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</span></p> + +<p>“The weapon with which the crime was committed,” replied the reporter.</p> + +<p>He jumped out of the window to the court and picked up from the bloody +stones a sharp, shining piece of flint. He brandished it in our eyes. +We all recognized it. It was “the oldest dagger of the human race.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br> +IN WHICH ROULETABILLE ORDERS THE IRON DOORS TO BE CLOSED</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The weapon belonged to Prince Galitch, but there was no doubt in the +mind of any one of us that it had been stolen by Old Bob, and we could +not forget that with his latest breath Bernier had accused Larsan of +being his assassin. Never had the image of Old Bob and that of Larsan +been so inextricably confounded in our restless spirits as since +Rouletabille had found “the oldest dagger known to the human race” +dripping with the blood of Bernier. Mme. Edith had at once realized +that henceforth the fate of Old Bob lay in the hands of Rouletabille. +The latter had only to say a few words to the delegato relative to the +singular incidents which had accompanied the fall of Old Bob into the +cave in the Grotto of Romeo and Juliet, enumerating the reasons which +had given occasion for fear that Old Bob and Larsan were one and the +same, and, finally, repeating the accusation made by the last victim +of Larsan, in order to fix the suspicions of the delegato firmly upon +the wigged head of the professor of geology. And, therefore, Mme. +Edith, who in her filial affection had not ceased to believe that the +man who lay on his bed in the Square Tower was really her uncle, had +begun to imagine, thanks to the bloody weapon, that the invisible +Larsan had woven so strong a web of circumstantial evidence around old +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</span> +Bob that it could scarcely be broken, with the design, doubtless, of +making the old man suffer the punishment for the wretch’s own crimes +and also the dangerous weight of his personality. Mme. Edith trembled +for Old Bob and for herself. She trembled with fear, like an insect +in the center of the web in which it has lost itself—this mysterious +web woven by Larsan, attached by invisible threads to the old walls +of the Château of Hercules. She felt as though if she were to make a +sudden movement—to say anything even—both she and her uncle would be +lost, and that some horrible beast of prey awaited only this signal to +spring upon and devour her. So she who had been so anxious to speak out +stood silent and when Rouletabille was called upon, it was her turn to +fear. She told me afterward of her state of mind at this time and she +acknowledged to me that her terror of Larsan had reached such a pitch +as even we, who had known so much of his evil power already, had never +experienced. This were wolf whose name she had so often heard spoken +in accents of horror which had made her smile, had begun to interest +her, when she learned of the events of the Yellow Room, because of the +impossibility of the police discovering the manner of his exit. Her +interest had increased when she had heard the story of the attack of +the Square Tower because of the impossibility of anyone’s explaining +how Larsan could have entered; but, now—now, in the full glare of the +noonday sun, Larsan had killed a man almost under her own eyes, and +within a radius in which there was at the time only herself, Robert +Darzac, Rouletabille, myself, Old Bob and Mere Bernier, each and every +one of them far enough away from the body so that not one could have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</span> +struck Bernier down. And Bernier had accused Larsan! Where was Larsan? +<i>In whose body?</i>—according to the reasoning which I had set forth +to her myself in telling her the story of the “inexplicable gallery”? +She had been under the arch with Darzac and myself, standing between +us, with Rouletabille in front of us, when the death cry had resounded +at the end of the shadow of the eucalyptus tree—that is to say, at +least, seven meters away. As to Old Bob and Mere Bernier, they had +not been separated; the one had watched over the other. If she placed +them outside the realms of possibility, there was no one left to kill +Bernier. Not alone this time was everyone ignorant how <i>he</i> had +departed but also of <i>how he had been present</i>. Ah, she understood +now that when one thought of Larsan there were moments in which one +shivered to the marrow of one’s bones!</p> + +<p>Nothing! Nothing anywhere around the corpse but the stone knife which +Old Bob had stolen! It was frightful—it was reason enough for us to +think of everything—to imagine everything!</p> + +<p>She read the certainty of this conviction in the eyes and in the manner +of Rouletabille and of Robert Darzac. But she understood as soon as the +young man began speaking that he seemed to have no other end in view +than to save Old Bob from the suspicions of the authorities.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille was given a seat between the delegato and the examining +magistrate who had arrived while Mme. Edith had been testifying, and +he gave his evidence (or rather, reasoned the matter out) holding +the “oldest knife known to the human race” in his hand. It seemed +definitely established that the guilty person could have been no other +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</span> +than one of the living men and women who were near the dead man and +whom I have enumerated above, when Rouletabille proved with a logical +accuracy that overwhelmed the examining magistrate and plunged the +delegato into despair that the deed could only have been committed by +the dead man himself. The four persons at the postern gate and the two +persons in Old Bob’s room had each been looking at the others and had +not lost sight of each other while <i>someone</i> was killing Bernier a +few steps away, so it was impossible to believe that the killing could +have been done by any other than the victim.</p> + +<p>To this the examining magistrate, greatly interested, replied by +inquiring whether any of us had reason to suspect any motive for +suicide on the part of Bernier, to which Rouletabille answered that the +supposition of suicide might easily be laid aside and that of accident +substituted for it. “The weapon of the crime,” as he called ironically +the “oldest knife known to the human race,” testified to the truth of +this theory by its presence. Rouletabille declared that there would be +no chance of an assassin meditating the commission of a murder with an +old piece of stone as an instrument. And still less could one believe +that Bernier, if he had resolved upon suicide, would not have found +another means toward his end than the one which had been used. But if, +on the contrary, that stone, which might have attracted his attention +by its strange form, had been picked up by Pere Bernier, and if he had +happened to slip and fall while holding it in his hand, everything +would be explained and very simply. Pere Bernier, undoubtedly, must +have thus unfortunately fallen upon this triangular flint which had +pierced his heart.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</span></p> + +<p>After Rouletabille had stated this hypothesis, the physician was +recalled, the wound examined once more and confronted with the fatal +object from which the scientific conclusion was reached that the wound +was made by the object. From this to the theory of accident, as stated +by Rouletabille, there was only a step. The judges spent six hours +in clearing up the matter—six hours during which they questioned us +without weariness but without result.</p> + +<p>As to Mme. Edith and your humble servant, after some futile and useless +questions, asked while the doctors were at the bedside of Old Bob, we +were allowed to leave the room and we went to sit in the little parlor +just outside the bedroom and were there when the magistrates were ready +to depart. The door of this parlor which opened upon the corridor of +the Square Tower had not been closed. We could hear the sobs and groans +of Mere Bernier, who was watching beside the body of her husband which +had been carried into the lodge. Between this body and the wounded +man, the injury to one as inexplicable as the death of the other, the +situation of both Mrs. Rance and myself had become extremely painful, +in spite of Rouletabille’s efforts, and all the terrors which we had +experienced before grew pale and simple before the thought of what +might be yet to come. Edith suddenly seized me by the hand and cried +out:</p> + +<p>“Do not leave me! I beg of you, don’t leave me! I have only you left. +I do not know where Prince Galitch is—I do not know anything about my +husband. That is what makes this so horrible. Arthur sent me a message, +saying that he was going in search of Tullio. He does not know even yet +that Bernier has been murdered. Has he found the ‘hangman of the sea’? +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</span> +It is from this man—from Tullio now that I expect the truth! And not a +word has come! It is horrible!”</p> + +<p>As she took my hand so confidingly and held it for a moment in her +own, I felt that I was for Mme. Edith with all my heart and soul and +I assured her that she might rely upon my devotion. We murmured a few +words of trust and eternal fidelity to each other in low voices while +there in the corridor we could see, passing back and forth, the dark +forms of the emissaries of justice, now preceded, now followed by +Rouletabille and M. Darzac. Rouletabille never failed to cast a glance +in our direction every time he had the opportunity. The window remained +open.</p> + +<p>“Ah, he is watching us!” exclaimed Mme. Edith. “Why is that, I wonder? +Probably we are in his way and M. Darzac’s when we remain here. But, +whatever may happen, we shall not stir, shall we, M. Sainclair?”</p> + +<p>“You ought to be grateful to Rouletabille,” I ventured to remind her; +“for his intervention and his silence relative to the ‘oldest knife +known to the human race.’ If the officers had learned that this stone +dagger belonged to your uncle, Bob, what could have hindered them from +placing him under arrest? Or if they knew that Bernier in dying had +accused Larsan of his murder, the story of the accident would have +found very little credence.”</p> + +<p>I placed an emphasis upon these last words.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she cried, bitterly. “Your friend has as many good reasons to +keep silence as I have! And I dread only one thing, M. Sainclair—I +dread only one thing!”</p> + +<p>“And what is that?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</span></p> + +<p>She arose, her eyes shining with fever.</p> + +<p>“I fear lest he has saved my uncle from the authorities only to ruin +him more completely.”</p> + +<p>“How can you think such a thing for a moment?” I asked her, convinced +that her fears were robbing her of her senses.</p> + +<p>“I am sure that I could read some such plan in the eyes of your friend +a little while ago. If I were sure that I were right, I would rather +hand my uncle over to the mercies of the authorities!”</p> + +<p>I managed to quiet her a little and to make her cast aside such an +impossible supposition, and, at length, she said:</p> + +<p>“At all events, it is necessary to be ready for anything, and I know +how to defend him so long as I draw breath.”</p> + +<p>And she showed me a tiny revolver which was hidden in her gown.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” she cried again. “Why is Prince Galitch not here?”</p> + +<p>“Again?” I exclaimed, angrily.</p> + +<p>“Is it actual truth that you are ready to defend me?” she demanded, +turning her beautiful eyes full upon my own.</p> + +<p>“I am ready.”</p> + +<p>“Against the whole world?”</p> + +<p>I hesitated. She repeated the words again:</p> + +<p>“Against the whole world?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Against your friend even?”</p> + +<p>“If it should be necessary,” I answered with a sigh, passing my hand +across my forehead.</p> + +<p>“Very well: I believe you!” she answered. “In that case, I will leave +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</span> +you here for a few minutes. You will guard this door <i>for me</i>!”</p> + +<p>And she pointed to the door behind which Old Bob was resting. Then she +ran out of the room. Where was she going? She confessed to me later. +She was going to look for the Prince Galitch! Oh, woman, woman!</p> + +<p>She had scarcely disappeared under the arch when Rouletabille and +M. Darzac entered the room. They had heard all that had passed. +Rouletabille advanced to my side and told me quietly that he was aware +that I had betrayed him.</p> + +<p>“You are using a large word, Rouletabille!” I exclaimed. “You know that +I am not in the habit of betraying anyone! Mme. Edith is really very +much to be pitied and you do not pity her enough, my friend.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, well! you pity her too much!”</p> + +<p>I blushed to the roots of my hair. I started to make some reply but +Rouletabille cut short my words with a dry gesture.</p> + +<p>“I ask you only one thing—only one, you understand. It is that, no +matter what may happen—<i>no matter what may happen</i>—you shall not +address one word to either M. Darzac or to myself.”</p> + +<p>“That will be a very easy thing to promise!” I replied, foolishly +irritated, and I turned my back upon him. It seemed to me that it was +with difficulty that he refrained from uttering some angry speech.</p> + +<p>But at the same moment, the officers, coming out of the New Castle, +called to us. The inquest was at an end. There was no doubt, in their +eyes, after the declaration of the doctors, that the affair had been an +accident and that was the verdict which they felt obliged to render. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</span> +M. Darzac and Rouletabille accompanied them to the outer gate. And as +I stood leaning on my elbows, at the window which opens upon the Court +of the Bold, assailed by a thousand sinister presentiments and awaiting +with an increasing anxiety for the return of Mme. Edith, while a few +steps away in the lodge, where the candles had been lighted around +Bernier’s bier, Mere Bernier kept on sobbing and praying beside the +corpse of her husband, I suddenly heard a sound which fell upon the +evening air like the blow of an immense gong; and I knew that it was +Rouletabille who had ordered the iron gates to be closed.</p> + +<p>Not a single minute passed after that when I saw Mme. Edith rush into +the room and hurry to me as though I were her only refuge.</p> + +<p>Then I saw M. Darzac appear—</p> + +<p>Then Rouletabille, and leaning on his arm was the Lady in Black.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX<br> +IN WHICH ROULETABILLE GIVES A CORPOREAL DEMONSTRATION OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF “THE BODY TOO MANY”</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Through the window I could see Rouletabille and the Lady in Black +entering the Square Tower. Never had the young reporter walked with +such solemn stateliness. His demeanor might have made one smile, if +instead, at this tragic moment, it had not added to our apprehensions. +Never had magistrate or counsellor, wearing the purple or the ermine, +entered the court room where the accused waited him with more of +threatening yet tranquil majesty. But I fancy, too, that never had a +judge looked so pale.</p> + +<p>As to the Lady in Black, it could easily be seen that she was making +a powerful effort to hide the sentiments of horror which, in spite +of all, pierced through her troubled glance, and to hide from us +the emotion which made her cling feverishly to the arm of her young +companion. Robert Darzac, too, had the sombre and resolute mien of a +judge. But that which most of all added to our surprise and affright +was the entrance of Pere Jacques, Walter and Mattoni into the Square +Tower. All three were armed with muskets, and placed themselves in +silence before the door, where they stood with military precision +while they received from the lips of Rouletabille the order to let no +person <i>go out</i> from the Old château. Edith was overwhelmed with +terror, and demanded of Mattoni and Walter, both of whom were greatly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</span> +attached to her, what their presence signified and what their weapons +threatened; but, to my great astonishment, they returned no answer. +Then the little woman rushed to the door which gave access to Old Bob’s +room, and, extending her two arms across the threshold, as if to bar +the passage, she cried:</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do? You do not mean to kill <i>him</i>?”</p> + +<p>“No, Madame,” replied Rouletabille, gravely. “We are going to judge +<i>him</i>. And in order to be sure that the judges shall not be +executioners we are all going to swear upon the body of Pere Bernier, +after having laid down our arms, that each of us will keep guard over +himself.”</p> + +<p>And he led us into the chamber where Mere Bernier continued to groan +beside the bier of her spouse whom “the oldest knife known to the human +race” had smitten. There we laid aside our revolvers and took the oath +which Rouletabille exacted. Mrs. Rance alone made some difficulties +about giving up the weapon which Rouletabille was well aware that she +had concealed in her clothing. But upon the urging of the reporter who +made her understand that the general disarming ought to reassure her, +she finally consented.</p> + +<p>The oath having been taken, Rouletabille, with the Lady in Black +still on his arm, went from the funereal chamber into the corridor; +but instead of directing our steps toward the apartment of Old Bob as +we expected him to do, he went straight to the door which afforded +entrance to the chamber of “the body too many.” And, drawing from his +pocket the little special key of which I have spoken, he opened the +door.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</span></p> + +<p>We were all astonished in entering the rooms which had been occupied by +M. and Mme. Darzac to see upon M. Darzac’s desk the drawing board, the +wash drawing upon which our friend had worked at the side of Old Bob +in the latter’s workshop in the Court of the Bold, and also the little +dish full of red paint and the tiny brush drenched with the paint. And, +lastly, in the middle of the desk, there was placed, appearing very +much at its ease, upon its bloody jaws, “the oldest skull of humanity.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille locked and bolted the door and said to us, himself greatly +affected, while we listened with stupefaction:</p> + +<p>“Sit down, if you please, ladies and gentlemen.”</p> + +<p>Some chairs were arranged around the table and in these we seated +ourselves, a prey to the most disquieting fancies—I might almost say +to an agony of suspense. A secret presentiment warned us that all the +familiar appurtenances of drawing which were displayed before us might +hide, under their apparent commonplace tranquility, the terrible causes +which helped to bring about this most fearful of dramas. And as we +looked upon it, the skull seemed to smile like Old Bob.</p> + +<p>“You will acknowledge,” began Rouletabille, “that there is here, around +this table one chair too many, and, in consequence, one person too +few—to particularize, M. Arthur Rance, for whom we cannot wait much +longer.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps at this very moment my husband possesses the proofs of Old +Bob’s innocence!” observed Mme. Edith, whom all these preparations had +disturbed more than anyone else. “I entreat Mme. Darzac to join me in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</span> +imploring these gentlemen to do nothing until Arthur’s return.”</p> + +<p>The Lady in Black had no opportunity to intervene, for before Mme. +Edith finished speaking, we heard a loud noise outside the door of the +corridor. A knock came at the door and we heard the voice of Arthur +Rance begging us to open immediately. He cried:</p> + +<p>“<i>I have brought the pin with the ruby head!</i>”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille opened the door.</p> + +<p>“Arthur Rance, you are come then at last!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Edith’s husband seemed plunged in the deepest melancholy.</p> + +<p>“What have you to tell me? What has happened? Some new misfortune? Ah, +I feared so—feared that I had arrived too late when I saw the iron +gate closed and heard the prayers for the dead chanted in the tower. +Yes—I knew that you had <i>executed</i> Old Bob!”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille, who had closed and bolted the door behind Arthur Rance +turned to the American and said:</p> + +<p>“Old Bob is alive and Pere Bernier is dead. Be seated, Monsieur.”</p> + +<p>Arthur Rance stared at the speaker in amazement; then looked in +consternation at the drawing board, the dish of paint and the bloody +skull and demanded:</p> + +<p>“Who killed him?”</p> + +<p>Then, condescending to notice that his wife was there, he pressed her +hand, but his eyes were fixed upon the Lady in Black.</p> + +<p>“Before his death, Bernier accused Frederic Larsan,” answered M. Darzac.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say by that that he accused Old Bob?” interrupted M. +Rance indignantly. “I will not suffer that. I, too, had some doubts in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</span> +regard to the personality of our beloved uncle, but I tell you that I +have the ruby-headed pin!”</p> + +<p>What was he talking about with his “little ruby-headed pin”? I +remembered that Mme. Edith had told us that Old Bob had snatched one +from her hand when she had playfully pricked him with it on the night +of the drama of the Square Tower. But what relation could there be +between this pin and the adventure of Old Bob? Arthur Rance did not +wait for us to ask him, but hurried on to tell us that this little pin +had disappeared at the same time as Old Bob and that he had found it +in the possession of “the Hangman of the Sea,” fastening a sheaf of +bank notes which the old uncle had paid him on that fated night for his +complicity and his silence in having brought him in the fisher boat +to the grotto of Romeo and Juliet. And M. Rance told us moreover that +Tullio had withdrawn from the spot at dawn, greatly disquieted at the +non-appearance of his passenger. Rance concluded, triumphantly:</p> + +<p>“A man who gives a ruby pin to another man in a boat cannot be at the +same moment tied up in a potato sack in the Square Tower.”</p> + +<p>Upon which Mrs. Rance inquired:</p> + +<p>“What gave you the idea of going to San Remo? Did you know that Tullio +was to be found there?”</p> + +<p>“I received an anonymous letter informing me of his whereabouts.”</p> + +<p>“It was I who sent it to you,” said Rouletabille, tranquilly. And, +then, turning to the rest of us, he said in frigid tones:</p> + +<p>“Ladies and gentlemen, I congratulate myself upon the prompt return of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</span> +M. Arthur Rance. At the present moment there are reunited around this +table all the members of the house party of the Château of Hercules for +whom my corporeal demonstration of the possibility of the ‘body too +many’ may have some interest. I entreat you to give me your undivided +attention.”</p> + +<p>But Arthur Rance halted him with a quick movement.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by the expression: ‘There are united around this +table all the members of the party for whom the corporeal demonstration +of the possibility of the body too many can have any interest’?”</p> + +<p>“I mean,” declared Rouletabille, “all those among whom we may hope to +find Larsan.”</p> + +<p>The Lady in Black, who had up to this time not uttered a word, arose +trembling to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean,” she breathed, her eyes filled with agonized +apprehension, “that Larsan is now among us?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it,” Rouletabille replied, gravely.</p> + +<p>There was an awful silence during which none of us dared look at each +other.</p> + +<p>The reporter continued, still in the same frigid tone:</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it—and there is no reason why the idea should surprise +you, Madame, since it has not for a moment left your own mind. As to +the rest of us, is it not true, gentlemen, that the idea has occurred +to each one of us at the same moment on the day when we took luncheon +on the terrace of the Bold when all our eyes were hidden by the black +glasses? If I except Mrs. Rance, who is there among us that did not +feel the presence of Larsan at that time?”</p> + +<p>“That is a question which ought to be propounded to Professor +Stangerson as well as to the rest of us,” interposed Arthur Rance, +instantly. “For from the moment when we begin any course of reasoning +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</span> +along these lines, I can see no object in not having the Professor, who +was at the table at luncheon with us on that day, here at this time +also.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Rance!” cried the Lady in Black.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I must repeat it, if you will pardon me,” replied Edith’s +husband, haughtily. “Monsieur Rouletabille was wrong to generalize when +he said, ‘All the members of the house party——’”</p> + +<p>“Professor Stangerson is so far from us in spirit that I have no need +of his presence here,” pronounced Rouletabille in a tone so stern and +solemn that it fell impressively on the ears of each and every one +among us. “Although Professor Stangerson had lived with us in the +Château of Hercules, he was not one of us in regard to feeling the +presence of Larsan on that day. And Larsan is here among us.”</p> + +<p>This time we stole stealthy glances at each other as though we +suspected each other of stealing, and the idea that Larsan might really +be among us appeared to me so mad that I exclaimed, forgetting that I +had promised not to address Rouletabille:</p> + +<p>“But at that luncheon on the terrace, there was still another person +whom I do not see here.”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille cast an angry look at me as he answered:</p> + +<p>“Still Prince Galitch! I have already told you, Sainclair, with what +task the Prince is occupying himself on this frontier and I swear to +you that it is not the trouble of Professor Stangerson’s daughter which +concerns him. Leave Prince Galitch to his humanitarian labors!”</p> + +<p>“All that is not reasonable,” I remarked almost mechanically.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</span></p> + +<p>“To tell the truth, Sainclair, your nonsense prevents me from +reasoning.”</p> + +<p>But I had launched out, and, forgetting that I had promised Mme. Edith +to defend Old Bob, I started in to attack him for the pleasure of +proving Rouletabille in the wrong—and, besides, I felt, Edith would +not bear rancor against me for very long.</p> + +<p>“Old Bob,” I began, in the clearest and most assured tones that I could +command, “was also at that luncheon on the terrace and you take him +entirely out of your calculations on account of this little ruby pin. +But of what use is this little pin to prove to us that Old Bob was +rowed away by Tullio, who waited for him at the orifice of a gallery +leading from the shaft to the sea, if we cannot discover how Old Bob +could, as he said, have gone by way of the shaft which we found closed +from above and on the outside?”</p> + +<p>“Which <i>you</i> found closed, you mean,” returned Rouletabille, +fixing his eyes upon me with a strange expression which somehow +embarrassed me. “I, on the contrary, found the shaft open. I had sent +you after Mattoni and Pere Jacques. When you came back, you found me in +the same place in the Court of the Bold, but I had had time to run to +the shaft and find out that it had been opened.”</p> + +<p>“And to close it again!” I cried. “And why did you close it? Whom did +you wish to deceive?”</p> + +<p>“<i>You, monsieur!</i>”</p> + +<p>He pronounced these two words with a contempt so crushing that the +blood rushed to my face. I arose. Every eye was turned upon me and as I +remembered the rudeness with which Rouletabille had treated me a little +while ago before M. Darzac, I had the horrible feeling that every eye +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</span> +was suspecting me—accusing me! <i>Yes! I felt myself entirely wrapped +around by the atrocious fancy in the mind of each and all that I might +be Larsan!</i></p> + +<p>I! Larsan!</p> + +<p>I looked at each one in turn. Rouletabille did not lower his eyes while +my own were seeking to make him feel the fierce protestation of my +whole being and my indignation against such a monstrous supposition. +Anger ran through my veins like a flame.</p> + +<p>“Now, it is high time to end this farce!” I cried. “If Old Bob is +removed from consideration and Professor Stangerson and Prince Galitch, +there remain only ourselves—we who are locked up in this room—and if +Larsan is among us, show us to him, Rouletabille!”</p> + +<p>I repeated the words furiously, for the eyes of the boy, although they +were piercing through me, seemed to be fixed upon something outside of +and apart from me.</p> + +<p>“Show him to us! Name him! You are as slow here as you were at the +Court of Assizes.”</p> + +<p>“Had I not good reason at the Court of Assizes for being as slow as I +was?” he replied, without betraying any emotion.</p> + +<p>“You want him to escape this time, too, then?”</p> + +<p>“No! I swear to <i>you</i> that this time he shall <i>not</i> escape.”</p> + +<p>Why did his voice continue to be so threatening when he addressed me? +Could it be really—<i>really</i> that he suspected me of being Larsan? +My eyes wandered to those of the Lady in Black. She was gazing on me in +terror.</p> + +<p>“Rouletabille!” I cried madly, feeling my voice almost smothered in my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</span> +throat. “You do not—you cannot suspect——!”</p> + +<p>At this moment, a pistol shot sounded outside, very near to the Square +Tower. We all leaped to our feet, remembering the order given by the +reporter to the three servants to fire upon anyone who should attempt +to go out of the Square Tower. Edith uttered a cry and tried to run out +of the room, but Rouletabille, who had not made so much as a gesture, +calmed her with a word.</p> + +<p>“If anyone had drawn upon <i>him</i>,” he said, “the three men would +have fired together. That pistol shot was merely a signal—a direction +for me to begin.”</p> + +<p>Turning to me, he continued:</p> + +<p>“M. Sainclair, you ought to know that I never suspect any person or +anything without previously having satisfied myself upon the ‘ground of +pure reason.’ That is a solid staff which has never yet failed me on +the road and on which I invite you all to lean with me. Larsan is here +among us, and the power of pure reason is going to show him to you; so +be seated again, if you please, and do not take your eyes from me, for +I am going to begin on this paper the corporeal demonstration of the +possibility of ‘the body too many’!”</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>First of all, he investigated to make sure that the bolts of the door +behind him were closely drawn; then, returning to the table, he took up +a compass.</p> + +<p>“I have the intention of making my demonstration,” he said, “along the +same lines on which the ‘body too many’ has produced itself. It will +be, thereby, only the more irrefutable.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</span></p> + +<p>And, with his compass, he took, upon M. Darzac’s drawing, the measure +of the radius of the circle which represented the space occupied by the +Tower of the Bold, so that he was immediately afterward able to trace +the same circle upon an immaculate piece of white paper which he had +fastened with copper-headed nails to another drawing board.</p> + +<p>When the circle was traced, Rouletabille, putting down his compass, +picked up the tiny dish of red paint and asked M. Darzac whether he +recognized it as the coloring matter he had used. M. Darzac, who, from +all appearances, understood the significance of the young man’s words +and actions no better than the rest of us, replied that, to the best +of his belief, it was the same paint which he had mixed for his wash +drawing.</p> + +<p>A good half of the paint had dried up in the bottom of the dish, +but, according to the opinion expressed by M. Darzac, the part which +remained would, upon paper, give nearly the same tint with which he had +“washed” the drawing of the peninsula of Hercules.</p> + +<p>“No one has touched it,” said Rouletabille very gravely, “and nothing +has been added to it, save a single tear. Besides, you will see that a +tear more or less in the paint cup would detract nothing from the value +of my demonstration.”</p> + +<p>Thus saying, he dipped the brush in the paint and began carefully to +“wash” all the space occupied by the circle which he had previously +traced. He did this with the care and exactitude which had already +astonished me in the Tower of the Bold when I had been nearly stupefied +in seeing him absorbed in a drawing when we knew that someone had been +assassinated.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</span></p> + +<p>When he had finished he looked at his immense silver watch and said:</p> + +<p>“You may see, ladies and gentlemen, that the coating of paint which +covers my circle is neither more nor less thick than that which covers +the circle of M. Darzac. It is almost the same thing—the same tint.”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly,” rejoined M. Darzac. “But what does all this signify?”</p> + +<p>“Wait!” replied the reporter. “It is understood, then, that it is you +who have made this plan and this painting?”</p> + +<p>“I was certainly in enough of an ill humor when I found the state it +was in that time I went with you into Old Bob’s cabinet when we came +out of the Square Tower. Old Bob had ruined my drawing by letting his +skull roll over it.”</p> + +<p>“We are there!” spoke up Rouletabille, quick as a flash. And he lifted +from the bureau the “oldest skull of the human race.” He turned it over +and showed the crimsoned jaws to M. Darzac. Then he inquired:</p> + +<p>“Is it your opinion that the red which we see upon that under jaw is no +different from the red which would be taken off by any object coming in +contact with your plan?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how there could be any doubt of it! The skull was upside +down on my drawing when we entered the workshop.”</p> + +<p>“Let us continue then to remain of the same opinion!” said the reporter.</p> + +<p>Then he arose, holding the skull in the crook of his arm, and went into +the alcove in the wall, lighted by a large window and crossed by bars, +which had been a loophole for cannon in the ancient times, and which +M. Darzac had used as a dressing room. There he struck a match and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</span> +lighted a lamp filled with spirits of wine which stood upon a little +table. Upon this lamp he set a little pot which he had previously +filled with water. The skull still lay in the crook of his arm.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>During this weird cookery, we never took our eyes off him. Never had +Rouletabille’s behavior appeared to us so incomprehensible nor so +mysterious nor so disturbing. The more he explained matters to us and +the more he did, the less we understood. And we were afraid because +we felt that someone—<i>someone among us—one of ourselves</i>—had +reason for fear. Who was this one? Perhaps the most calm of us all!</p> + +<p>But the calmest of all was Rouletabille between his skull and his +casserole.</p> + +<p>But what? Why did we all suddenly recoil with a single movement? Why +were the eyes of M. Darzac wide with a new terror—why did the Lady in +Black—Arthur Rance—I, myself—utter the same syllable—a name which +expired on our lips: “<i>Larsan!</i>”?</p> + +<p>Where had we seen him? Where had we discovered him this time, we who +were gazing at Rouletabille? Ah, that profile, in the red shadow of +the approaching twilight, that brow in the background of the alcove +upon which the sunset rays stream as did the dawn on the morning of +the crime! Oh, that stern jaw, bespeaking an iron will, which appeared +before us, not, as in the light of day, gentle though a little bitter, +but evil and threatening. How like Rouletabille was to Larsan! How in +that moment the son resembled his father! It was Larsan’s very self!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_011" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_011.jpg" width="1000" height="667" alt="A tall man stands near a window holding a small object in one hand. A woman in a long dress looks intently at the man by the window, while a younger man leans forward slightly, seemingly intrigued. Another woman is seated, her hand resting on a table with scattered papers."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>Ah! that profile standing out darkly from the depths of +the embrasure, lighted up by the red glow of the falling night.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + + +<p>Another transformation. At a moan from his mother Rouletabille came out +of his funereal frame and appeared before us as a bandit, and as he +hurried toward us, he was Rouletabille once more. Mme. Edith, who had +never seen Larsan, could not understand. She whispered to me, “What is +going on?”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille was there before us with his hot water in the casserole, a +napkin and his skull. And he washed the skull.</p> + +<p>It was soon done. The paint disappeared. He made us bear witness to +the fact. Then, placing himself in front of the bureau, he stood in +mute contemplation before his own drawing. This lasted for ten minutes, +during which he had, by a sign, ordered us to keep silence—ten minutes +which seemed as long as the same number of hours. What was he waiting +for? What did he expect? Suddenly, he seized the skull in his right +hand, and with the gesture familiar to those who play at bowling, he +tossed it about so that it rolled hither and yon over the drawing; then +he showed us the skull and bade us notice that it bore no trace of red +paint. Rouletabille drew out his watch again.</p> + +<p>“The paint has dried upon the plan,” he said. “It has taken a quarter +of an hour to dry. Upon the 11th of April we saw at five o’clock in the +afternoon, M. Darzac entering the Square Tower and coming from out of +doors. But M. Darzac, after having entered the Square Tower, and after +having fastened behind him the bolts of his door, as he tells us, has +not gone out again until we came to fetch him after six o’clock. As +to Old Bob, we had seen him enter the Square Tower at six o’clock and +there was no paint on this skull then!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</span></p> + +<p>“<i>How was this paint which has taken only a quarter of an hour to +dry upon this plan, fresh enough still—more than an hour after M. +Darzac had left it—to stain Old Bob’s skull when the savant, with a +movement of anger, threw it down on the plan as he entered the Round +Tower?</i> There is only one explanation of this, and I defy you to +find another—and that is that <i>the Robert Darzac who entered the +Square Tower at five o’clock and whom no one has seen going out again, +was not the same as the one who came to paint in the Round Tower before +the arrival of Old Bob at six o’clock and whom we found in the room in +the Square Tower without having seen him enter there and with whom we +went out. In one word—he was not the same man as the M. Darzac here +present before us. The testimony of pure reason shows that there are +two personalities appearing in the guise of Robert Darzac!</i>”</p> + +<p>And Rouletabille turned his eyes full upon the man whose name he had +uttered.</p> + +<p>Darzac, like all the rest of us, was under the spell of the luminous +demonstration of the young reporter. We were all divided between a +new horror and a boundless admiration. How clear was every word that +Rouletabille had uttered! How clear—and how terrible! Here again we +found the mark of his prodigious and logical mathematical intelligence!</p> + +<p>M. Darzac cried out:</p> + +<p>“It was thus, then, that <i>he</i> was able to enter the Square Tower +under a disguise which made him, without doubt, my very image! It was +thus that he was able to hide behind the panel in such a way that I did +not see him myself when I came here to write my letters after quitting +the Tower of the Bold, where I left my drawing. But how could Pere +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</span> +Bernier have opened to him?”</p> + +<p>“Doubtless,” replied Rouletabille, who had taken the hand of the Lady +in Black in both his own as though he wished to give her courage, “he +must have believed that it was yourself.”</p> + +<p>“That then explains the fact that when I reached my door I had only to +push it open. Pere Bernier believed that I was within.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly: that is good reasoning!” declared Rouletabille. “And Pere +Bernier, who had opened to Darzac No. 1, had not troubled himself about +No. 2, since he did not see him any more than yourself. You certainly +reached the Square Tower at the moment that Sainclair and myself called +Bernier to the parapet to see whether he could help us in understanding +the strange gesticulations of Old Bob, talking at the threshold of the +Barma Grande to Mrs. Rance and Prince Galitch.”</p> + +<p>“But Mere Bernier!” cried M. Darzac. “She had gone into her lodge. Was +she not astonished to see M. Darzac come in a second time when she had +not seen him go out?”</p> + +<p>“Let us suppose,” replied the young reporter with a sad smile; “let +us suppose, M. Darzac, that Mere Bernier at that moment—the moment +when you passed into your apartments—that is to say, when the second +apparition of Darzac passed in—was occupied in picking up the potatoes +and putting them back into the sack which I had emptied upon her +floor—and we shall suppose the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, I can congratulate myself on the fact that I am still upon +earth!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</span></p> + +<p>“Congratulate yourself, M. Darzac? congratulate yourself!”</p> + +<p>“When I remember that as soon as I entered my room, I drew the bolts +as I have told you that I did, that I began to work and that this +wretch was hidden behind my back. Why, he might have killed me without +hindrance!”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille stepped close to M. Darzac and fixed his eyes upon him +with a look that seemed to read his soul.</p> + +<p>“Why did he not kill you then?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“You know very well that he was waiting for someone else,” replied M. +Darzac, turning his face sorrowfully toward the Lady in Black.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille was now so close to M. Darzac that their shadows on the +floor looked like that of one strangely formed being. The lad put his +two hands on the older man’s shoulders.</p> + +<p>“M. Darzac,” he said, his voice again clear and strong, “I have a +confession to make to you. When I began to understand how the ‘body +too many’ had effected an entrance and when I had discovered that you +did nothing to undeceive us in regard to the hour of five o’clock +at which we had believed—at which everyone, rather, except myself, +believed—that you had entered the Square Tower, I felt that I had the +right to suspect that the murderer was not the man who at five o’clock +entered the Square Tower under the form of Darzac. I thought, on the +contrary, that that Darzac might be the true Darzac and you might be +the false one. Ah, my dear M. Darzac, how I have suspected you!”</p> + +<p>“That was madness!” cried M. Darzac. “If I did not tell you the exact +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</span> +hour at which I entered the Square Tower it was because the time was +somewhat vague in my own mind and I did not attach any importance to +it.”</p> + +<p>“In such a manner, M. Darzac,” continued Rouletabille, without paying +any attention to the interruptions of his interlocutor, the emotion of +the Lady in Black and our attitude, more than ever filled with terror. +“In such a manner as that you could have stolen away the true Darzac +when he came from outside and, by your own carefulness and the too +faithful help of the Lady in Black, could have taken his place and have +been perfectly able to defy detection of your audacious enterprise. +This was my imagination—only my imagination, M. Darzac; don’t let it +disturb you. But in such a manner as this, I had thought that, you +being Larsan, the man who was put in the sack was Darzac. Ah! the +fancies that I have had! and the useless suspicions!”</p> + +<p>“Bah!” responded Mathilde’s husband, gloomily. “We are all suspicious +here!”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille turned his back upon M. Darzac, put his hands in his +pocket and said, addressing himself to Mathilde, who seemed ready to +swoon before the horror of Rouletabille’s imaginings:</p> + +<p>“Courage for a little while longer, Madame!”</p> + +<p>And he began speaking again, in his “teacher’s” voice which I knew so +well, and with the air of a professor of mathematics propounding or +resolving a theorem:</p> + +<p>“You see, M. Darzac, there are two manifestations of Robert Darzac. +To know which was the true one and which was the one which formed a +disguise for Larsan—my duty, M. Darzac—that which the power of pure +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</span> +reason showed me—was to examine, without fear or reproach, both of +these manifestations—<i>in all impartiality</i>. Thus, I begin with +you—M. Darzac.”</p> + +<p>M. Darzac replied:</p> + +<p>“It does not matter since you suspect me no longer. But you must tell +me immediately who is Larsan. I insist upon it—I demand it!”</p> + +<p>“We all demand it—and at once!” we all cried, turning upon both of +them. Mathilde rushed up to her child and placed herself in front of +him, as if to protect him. We felt the pathos of her attitude but the +scene had endured too long and we were beyond the limits of patience.</p> + +<p>“If he knows who is Larsan let him speak out and make an end of this!” +exclaimed Arthur Rance.</p> + +<p>And suddenly, just as the thought crossed my mind that I had heard the +same cries of anger and impatience two years before at the Court of +Assizes, another pistol shot sounded outside the door of the Square +Tower, and we were all so seized with consternation that our anger fell +away in a moment and we found ourselves not threatening Rouletabille +but entreating him to put an end as soon as possible to this +intolerable situation. At this moment, it actually seemed as though we +were each imploring him to speak out, as though we calculated that by +doing so, we would prove, not only to the others but to ourselves, that +we were not Larsan.</p> + +<p>As soon as the second shot was heard, the countenance of Rouletabille +changed completely. His face seemed transformed and his whole being +appeared to vibrate with a savage energy. Laying aside the half +bantering manner which he had used toward M. Darzac and which we had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</span> +all found extremely disagreeable, he gently released himself from the +clasp of the Lady in Black, who still clung to him, walked toward the +door, folded his arms and said:</p> + +<p>“You see, my friends, in an affair like this, it does not do to neglect +any point. There were two manifestations of Robert Darzac which entered +the Square Tower. There were two manifestations which came out—and one +of these was in the sack! That is where one loses oneself. And <i>even +now</i>, I do not wish to make any mistakes! Will M. Darzac, here +present, permit me to say that I had a hundred excuses for suspecting +him?”</p> + +<p>Then I thought to myself: “How unlucky that he did not mention his +suspicions to me! I would have told him about the map of Australia!”</p> + +<p>M. Darzac strode across the room and planted himself in front of the +young reporter and said in a tone nearly inaudible from anger:</p> + +<p>“What excuses? I ask you, what excuses?”</p> + +<p>“You will soon understand, my friend,” said the reporter with the +utmost calmness. “The first thing that I said to myself while I was +examining the conditions surrounding <i>your</i> manifestation of +Larsan, was this: ‘Nonsense! if he were Larsan, would not Professor +Stangerson’s daughter have perceived it?’ That is self evident—the +common sense of that thought—is it not? But when I tried to look into +the mind of the lady who has become Mme. Darzac, I discovered beyond +a doubt, Monsieur, that all the while she could not free herself from +just this fear—the fear that you might be Larsan!”</p> + +<p>Mathilde, who had fallen half fainting into a chair, gathered strength +enough to start up and to protest against the words with a frightened, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</span> +despairing gesture.</p> + +<p>As for M. Darzac, his face was a picture of hopeless anguish. He sank +upon a couch and said in a voice so low that it was scarcely audible +and so full of wretchedness that it pierced our hearts:</p> + +<p>“And could you have thought that, Mathilde?”</p> + +<p>His wife dropped her eyes and spoke not a word.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille, still merciless, continued:</p> + +<p>“When I recall all the acts of Mme. Darzac after your return from San +Remo, I can see now in each one of them an expression of the terror +which she experienced from her fear that she should allow the secret of +her suspicion and her constant agony to escape her. Ah, let me speak, +M. Darzac! Everything must be said—everything must be explained here +and now if there is to be peace in the future! We are about to clear +up the situation. To go on then, there was nothing natural or happy in +Mlle. Stangerson’s behavior. The very eagerness with which she assented +to your desire to hasten the marriage ceremony proved the longing which +she felt to definitely banish the torment of her soul. Her eyes—I +remember it now!—used to say at that time—how often and how clearly! +‘Is it possible that I continue to see Larsan everywhere, even in the +face of the man who is at my side, who is going to lead me to the altar +and to take me away with him?’</p> + +<p>“From the moment of your return from the South until the apparition at +the railroad station, monsieur, she lived in the most utter misery. +She was already crying for help—for help against herself—against her +thoughts—and, perhaps, even against <i>you</i>! But she dared not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</span> +reveal her thought to any person because she dreaded that any confidant +might say to her——”</p> + +<p>And Rouletabille leaned over and said in M. Darzac’s ear, not so low +that I could not hear, but so softly that the words did not reach +Mathilde: “Are you going mad again?”</p> + +<p>Then, lifting his head again, he continued:</p> + +<p>“You ought to understand everything better now, my dear M. Darzac—both +the strange coldness with which you were treated occasionally and also +the fits of remorseful tenderness which, in the doubt which filled her +brain, would impel Mme. Darzac to surround you with every evidence +of attention and affection. And, furthermore, allow me to tell you +that I myself have sometimes found you so gloomy and <i>distrait</i> +that I have fancied that you must have discovered that whenever Mme. +Darzac looked at you, she could not, in spite of herself, chase from +her mind the image of Larsan. It came upon her when she spoke to +you and when she was silent—when you were beside her and when you +were at a distance. And, consequently—let us understand each other +completely—it was <i>not</i> the belief that Professor Stangerson’s +daughter would have known it, which removed my suspicions, since, in +spite of herself, she entertained the fear all the while that you and +Larsan were one. No! no! my suspicions were removed by another cause!”</p> + +<p>“They might have been removed,” exclaimed M. Darzac, at once ironically +and despairingly—“they might have been removed, it would seem, by +the simple course of reasoning that if I had been Larsan, wedded to +Mlle. Stangerson, having her for my wife, I would have had every cause +for making her believe in Larsan’s death! And I would have never +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</span> +resuscitated myself! Was it not upon the day that Larsan returned to +earth that I lost Mathilde?”</p> + +<p>“Pardon, monsieur, pardon!” replied Rouletabille, whose face had grown +as white as a sheet. “You are abandoning now, if I may say so, the +directions of pure reason. The facts which you mentioned show us just +the contrary of that which you believe we should see. For my part, +it seems to me that when one has a wife who believes, or who comes +very near to believing, that one is Larsan, one has every interest in +showing her that <i>Larsan exists outside of oneself</i>!”</p> + +<p>As Rouletabille uttered these words, the Lady in Black, supporting +herself by groping with her hands against the wall as she walked, came +stumblingly to the side of Rouletabille, and devoured with her eyes the +face of M. Darzac which had grown frightfully harsh and strained. As to +the rest of us, we were so struck by the novelty and the irrefutability +of Rouletabille’s reasoning, that we experienced no other emotion than +an ardent desire to know what was to follow, and we took care not to +interrupt, asking ourselves to what such a formidable hypothesis might +not lead. The young man, imperturbably, went on:</p> + +<p>“And, if you had an interest in showing her that Larsan existed +elsewhere than in your body, there arose an exigency in which that +interest was transformed into an immediate necessity. Imagine—I say +<i>imagine</i>, M. Darzac, that you had really brought Larsan to life +once—once only—in spite of yourself—in your own rooms—before +the eyes of Professor Stangerson’s daughter—and you will be, I +repeat, under the necessity of bringing him to life again and yet +again—outside of yourself, in order to prove to your wife that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</span> +the Larsan whom she has seen returned to life is not you! Ah, calm +yourself, my dear M. Darzac, I entreat you. Have I not told you that +my suspicion has been banished—completely banished? But it is as well +that we should divert ourselves for a few moments in reasoning the +matter out a little, after these long hours of anguish when it seemed +as though there would never be any place for reasoning again. See, +then, where I am obliged to come in considering this hypothesis as +realized (these are the procedures of mathematics which you know better +than I—you who are a scholar!)—in considering, as I said, as realized +the hypothesis that you are the counterfeit Darzac, the one which hides +Larsan. According to my reasoning, then, you are Larsan! And I asked +myself what could have happened in the railway station at Bourg to make +you appear in the form of Larsan before the eyes of your wife. The fact +of such an appearance is undeniable. It exists. And its occurrence at +that moment cannot be explained by any desire on your part to have +Larsan seen!”</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment, but Robert Darzac did not utter a word.</p> + +<p>“As you were saying, M. Darzac,” Rouletabille went on, “it was because +of this apparition of Larsan that your cup of happiness was dashed +empty to the ground. Therefore, if this resurrection should not +have been voluntary there is only one other way in which it could +have happened—through accident. And now just let us consider how +this latter supposition clears up the entire situation. Oh, I have +spent a lot of thought upon the incident at Bourg!—you see, I am +still reasoning out the problem! You (the you who is Larsan, be it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</span> +understood) are at Bourg in the buffet. You believe that your wife is +waiting for you somewhere in the station as she told you she would do. +After having finished your letters, you wish to go to your compartment +in the car in order to attend to some detail of your toilet—or, shall +we say to cast a critical eye over your disguise to see if in any +point it might be lacking? You think to yourself: ‘A few more hours of +this comedy and we shall have passed the frontier, she will be all my +own—entirely alone with me, and I will throw aside this mask’—for +the mask wearies you a little, we may imagine—so much so, indeed, +that, once arrived in your compartment, you grant yourself the grace +of a few moments of repose. You cast away your assumed character +and your disguise. You relieve yourself of the false beard and the +spectacles—and at that very moment the door of the section opens. +Your wife, thrown into a spasm of terror at the sight of Larsan’s +smooth, beardless face in the glass, does not wait to make any further +investigation and rushes out into the night, her screams drowned by the +noise of another train. You comprehend the danger at once. You realize +that everything is lost unless you can <i>immediately</i> arrange +matters so that your wife shall see Darzac somewhere else. You quickly +resume the mask; you hurry out of the compartment and reach the buffet +by a shorter route than that taken by your wife, who rushes there to +look for you. She finds you standing up. You have not even had time +enough to seat yourself before she enters. Is everything safe now? +Alas, no! Your troubles are only beginning. For the fearful thought +that you may be at one and the same time both Darzac and Larsan will +not leave her mind. Upon the platform of the station, while passing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</span> +beneath the gas jet, she casts a frightened glance at you, lets go your +hand and runs wildly into the office of the station master. You read +her thought as though she had spoken it. The abominable idea must be +banished without a moment’s delay. You quit the office, leaving the +lady in the care of the superintendent, and immediately return, closing +the door quickly, seeking to give the impression that you, too, have +seen Larsan. In order to ease her mind, and, also, for the purpose of +deceiving us all, in case she dared reveal her suspicions to any one, +you are the first to warn me that something unforeseen has happened—to +send me a dispatch. See how clear and plain as the day your every act +becomes! You cannot refuse to take her to rejoin her father. She would +go without you. And, since nothing is yet really lost, you have the +hope that everything may be regained. In the course of the journey, +your wife continues to have alternating periods of faith in you and of +fear of you. She gives you her revolver, in a sort of half delirium, +which might sum itself up in some such phrase as this: ‘If he is +Darzac, let him protect me; if he is Larsan, let him kill me! But in +pity, let me know which he is.’ At Rochers Rouges, you realized once +more how utterly she had withdrawn herself from you and in order to +reassure her as to your identity, you showed her Larsan again. * * * +See how in accordance with reason such a proceeding would be, my dear +M. Darzac! Every fact would fit perfectly into every other under the +supposition which I am placing before you. There is not a single point +up to your appearance as Larsan at Mentone, during your journey as +Darzac to Cannes, at the time when you came to meet us, which cannot be +explained in the easiest way imaginable. You had taken the train at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</span> +Mentone Garavan before the eyes of your friends, but you alighted from +the train at the next station, which is Mentone, and there, after a +short stay for the purpose of altering your looks, you appeared in the +image of Larsan to the same friends who were promenading in the gardens +at Mentone. The following train brought you to Cannes, where you met +Sainclair and myself. Only, as you had on this occasion the vexation of +hearing from the lips of Arthur Rance when he met us at the station at +Nice, the news that Mme. Darzac had not, on this occasion, caught sight +of Larsan, you were under the necessity that same evening of showing +her Larsan under the very windows of the Square Tower, standing erect +in the prow of Tullio’s boat. So, you see, my dear M. Darzac, how even +those things which appear most complicated would have become entirely +simple and logically explicable, if, by chance, my suspicions should +have been confirmed.”</p> + +<p>At these words, I myself, who had seen and touched “the map of +Australia,” was unable to repress a shudder as I looked pityingly at +Robert Darzac, just as one might look at some poor man who is on the +point of becoming the victim of some hideous judicial error. And all +the others, seated around me, shuddered as well, whether for him or +on account of him, for the arguments of Rouletabille were becoming +so terribly <i>possible</i> that each of us was asking himself how, +after having so completely established the possibility of guilt, the +young reporter could prove Darzac’s innocence. As to Robert Darzac, +after having at first evinced the deepest agitation, he had grown +quite tranquil and calm, as he listened attentively to every word that +escaped the young man’s lips. And it seemed to me that his eyes held +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</span> +the same expression of astonishment, amazed and frightened, and yet +full of breathless interest, which I had seen in the eyes of accused +men at the bar of the Assizes when they had heard the Procurer General +deliver one of his wonderful disquisitions which almost convinced the +prisoners themselves that they were guilty of a crime which sometimes +they had never committed.</p> + +<p>“But since you no longer have these suspicions, monsieur!” he +exclaimed, his intonation singularly calm, in spite of the fact that +his voice was raised, “I should be glad to know, after all this +exercise of your talent of reasoning, what could have driven them away?”</p> + +<p>“In order to have them driven away, monsieur, one thing was +essential—an <i>absolute certitude</i>! And I found it—a simple but +conclusive proof which showed me in a manner complete and undeniable +which of the two manifestations of Darzac was in reality Larsan. That +proof, monsieur, was, happily, furnished me by yourself at the very +moment when you <i>closed the circle</i>—the circle in which there +had been found the ‘body too many.’!—the time when, after having +sworn that which was the truth—that you had drawn the bolt of your +apartment as soon as you had entered your sleeping room, <i>you had +lied to us in concealing from us that you had entered that room at +six o’clock instead of at five o’clock as Pere Bernier said and as +we ourselves could have proved. You were then the only person except +myself who knew that the Darzac who had entered at five o’clock and of +whom we had spoken to you as yourself was in reality another man. But +you said nothing. And you need not pretend that you did not attach any +importance to that hour of five o’clock, since it explained everything +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</span> +to you—since it told you that another Darzac than yourself—the true +Robert Darzac—had come into the Square Tower at that time. And, after +your false expressions of astonishment, how quiet you kept! Your very +silence lied to us! And what interest could the true Darzac have in +concealing that another Darzac, who might be Larsan, had come in before +you had, and was hiding in the Square Tower? Larsan alone</i> was the +only one who was interested in hiding from us that there was another +manifestation of Darzac than the one he himself bore! <span class="allsmcap">OF THE TWO +MANIFESTATIONS OF DARZAC, THE FALSE MUST HAVE NECESSARILY BEEN THAT +ONE WHICH LIED!</span> Thus my suspicions were driven away by certainty. +<span class="allsmcap">YOU ARE LARSAN! AND THE MAN WHO WAS HIDDEN BEHIND THE PANEL WAS +DARZAC!</span>”</p> + +<p>“You lie!” shouted the man (I could not even yet believe him to be +Larsan), hurling himself upon Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>But none of us stirred a finger and Rouletabille, who had lost nothing +of his calm demeanor, extended his arm toward the panel and said:</p> + +<p>“<span class="allsmcap">HE IS BEHIND THE PANEL NOW!</span>”</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>It was an indescribable scene—a moment never to be forgotten! At the +gesture of Rouletabille, the door of the panel swung open, pushed by an +invisible hand, just as it had been on that terrible night which had +witnessed the mystery of “the body too many.”</p> + +<p>And the form of a man appeared. Clamors of surprise, of joy and of +terror filled the Square Tower. The Lady in Black uttered a heart +rending cry: “Robert! Robert! Robert!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</span></p> + +<p>And it was a cry of joy! Two Darzacs before us so exactly similar +that every one of us save the Lady in Black might have been deceived. +But her heart told her the truth, even admitting that her reason, +notwithstanding the triumphant conclusion of Rouletabille, might have +hesitated. Her arms outstretched, her eyes alight with love and joy, +she rushed toward the second manifestation of Darzac—the one which +had descended from the panel. Mathilde’s face was radiant with new +life; her sorrowful eyes which I had so often beheld fixed with sombre +gloom upon <i>that other</i>, were shining upon this one with a joy +as glorious as it was tranquil and assured. It was he! It was he whom +she had believed lost—whom she had sought in vain in the visage of +the other and had not found there and, therefore, had accused herself, +during the weary hours of day and night, of folly which was akin to +madness.</p> + +<p>As to the man who, up to the last moment I had not believed to be +guilty—as to that wretch who, unveiled and tracked to earth, found +himself suddenly face to face with the living proof of his crimes, he +attempted yet again, one of the daring coups which had so often saved +him. Surrounded on every side, he yet endeavored to flee. Then we +understood the audacious drama which in the last few moments, he had +played for our benefit. When he could no longer have any doubt as to +the issue of the discussion which he was holding with Rouletabille, he +had had the incredible self control to permit nothing of his emotions +to appear, and had also been able to prolong the situation, permitting +Rouletabille to pursue at leisure the thread of the argument at the end +of which he knew that he would find his doom, but during the progress +of which he might discover perchance some means of escape. And he had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</span> +effected his manœuvres so well that at the moment when we beheld the +other Darzac advancing toward us, we could not hinder the imposter +from disappearing at one bound within the room which had served as the +bedchamber of Mme. Darzac and closing the door violently behind him +with a rapidity which was nothing less than marvellous. We only knew +that he had vanished when it was too late to stop his flight.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille, during the scene which had passed had thought only of +guarding the door opening into the corridor and he had not noticed +that every movement of the false Darzac, as soon as he realized that +he was being convicted of his imposture, had been in the direction of +Mme. Darzac’s room. The reporter had attached no importance to these +movements, knowing as he did that this room did not offer any way by +which Larsan might escape. But, however, when the scoundrel was behind +the door which afforded his last refuge, our confusion increased beyond +all proportions. One might have thought that we had become suddenly +bereft of our senses. We knocked on the door. We cried out. We thought +of all his strokes of genius—of his marvellous escapes in the past!</p> + +<p>“He will escape us! He will get away from us again!”</p> + +<p>Arthur Rance was the most enraged of us all. Mme. Edith, who was +clinging to my arm, drove her finger nails into my hand in a paroxysm +of nervous fear. None of us paid any heed to the Lady in Black and +Robert Darzac who, in the midst of this tempest, seemed to have +forgotten everything, even the clamor and confusion around them. +Neither one had spoken a word but they were looking into each other’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</span> +eyes as though they had discovered another world—the world which is +love. But they had not discovered it; they had merely found it again, +thanks to Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>The latter had opened the door of the corridor and summoned the three +domestics to our assistance. They entered with their rifles. But it was +axes that were needed. The door was solid and barricaded with heavy +bolts. Pere Jacques went out and fetched a beam which served us as a +battering ram. Each of us exerted all his strength and, finally, we +saw the door beginning to give way. Our anxiety was at its height. In +vain, we told ourselves that we were about to enter a room in which +there were only walls and barred windows. We expected anything—or, +rather, we expected nothing, for in the mind of each and every one of +us was the recollection of the disappearances, the flights, the actual +“dissolution of matter” which Larsan had brought about in times past +and which at this moment haunted us and drove us nearly mad.</p> + +<p>When the door had commenced to yield, Rouletabille directed the +servants to take up their guns, with the order, however, that the +weapons were to be used only in case it should be impossible to capture +Larsan living. Then the young reporter set his shoulder to the door +with one last powerful effort and as the boards, wrenched from their +hinges, fell to the ground, he was the first to enter the room.</p> + +<p>We followed him. And behind him, upon the threshold, we all halted, +stupefied by the sight which met our eyes. Larsan was there—plainly +to be seen by everyone. And this time there was no difficulty in +recognizing him. He had removed his false beard; he had put aside his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</span> +“Darzac mask”; he had resumed once more the pale, clean-shaven face +of that Frederic Larsan whom we had known at the Château of Glandier. +And his presence seemed to fill the entire room. He was lying back +comfortably in an easy chair in the center of the room and was looking +at us with his great, calm eyes. His arm was stretched along the arm of +the chair. His head was resting on the cushion at the back. One would +have said that he was giving us an audience and was waiting for us to +make known our business. It seemed to me that I could even discern an +ironical smile on his lips.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille advanced toward him.</p> + +<p>“Larsan,” he said in a voice which was not quite steady, “Larsan, do +you give yourself up?”</p> + +<p>But Larsan did not reply.</p> + +<p>Then Rouletabille touched the man’s face and his hand and we saw that +Larsan was dead.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille pointed to a ring on the middle finger. The collet was +open and showed a hollow cup which was empty. It must have contained a +deadly poison.</p> + +<p>Arthur Rance put his head against the man’s chest and assured us that +all was over. And Rouletabille entreated us to leave him alone in the +Square Tower and to try and forget the terrible events which had passed +there.</p> + +<p>“I will charge myself with everything,” he asserted gravely. “Here is +the ‘body too many.’ No one will inquire into the disposition which may +be made of it.”</p> + +<p>And he gave an order to Walter which Arthur Rance translated into +English.</p> + +<p>“Walter, bring me the sack which you found at the Castillon +yesterday.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_012" style="width: 1000px;"> +<img src="images/i_012.jpg" width="1000" height="659" alt="A man sits slumped in an armchair, seemingly unresponsive. His head is tilted back, and his arms rest limply at his sides. A man, advances toward him with an urgent posture. Behind him, two other figures-a man and a woman-stand in the doorway, observing the dramatic confrontation."> +<figcaption class="caption"> + +<p>Rouletabille advanced toward him: “Larsan,” he said; +“Larsan, do you give yourself up?” But Larsan did not reply.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + + +<p>Then he made a gesture to which we were all obedient—a gesture of +dismissal. And we left the son face to face with the corpse of the +father.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>The next moment we saw that M. Darzac was swooning and we were obliged +to carry him into Old Bob’s sitting room. But it was only a passing +faintness and soon he opened his eyes again and smiled at Mathilde +when he saw her beautiful face bending over him with the look of +dread in which we read the fear of losing her beloved husband at the +very moment in which she had, through a chain of circumstances which +still remained wrapped in mystery, found him again. He succeeded in +convincing her that his life was not in any danger and he added his +entreaties to those of Mme. Edith that she would go away for a little +while and try to get some rest. When the two women had left us, Arthur +Rance and myself turned our attention to our friend, inquiring of him, +first of all, in regard to his curious state of health. For how could a +man whom all of us had believed to be dead, and who had been, with the +death rattle in his throat, tied up in a sack and carried away, have +been able to rise again and step down living from the fateful panel? +But when we had opened his shirt and discovered the bandage which hid +the wound that he bore in his breast, we recognized the fact that this +injury, by a chance so rare that one would scarcely believe that it +could exist, after having brought about an almost immediate state of +coma, was not a very serious one. The ball which had struck Darzac in +the midst of the savage fight which he had been obliged to make against +Larsan, had planted itself in the sternum, causing a bad external +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</span> +hemorrhage and weakening the entire organism, but, fortunately, +suspending none of the vital functions.</p> + +<p>As we finished the task of dressing the wound Pere Jacques came to +close the door of the parlor which had remained open and I wondered +what might be the reason which had led the old man to this precaution +until I heard steps in the corridor and a strange noise—the sound that +one hears when a body is carried away on a stretcher. And I thought of +Larsan and of the sack which was holding now for the second time “the +body too many.”</p> + +<p>Leaving Arthur Rance to watch over M. Darzac I hurried to the window. +I had not been mistaken. I beheld the sinister funeral cortege in the +court outside.</p> + +<p>It was nearly nightfall. A gathering gloom surrounded everything. But +I could distinguish Walter, who had been stationed as a sentinel under +the arch of the gardener’s postern. He was looking toward the outer +court, ready, evidently, to bar the passage of anyone who might desire +to penetrate into the Court of the Bold.</p> + +<p>Moving onward in the direction of the oubliette, I saw Rouletabille +and Pere Jacques—two dark shadows bending over another shadow—a +shadow which I recognized and which, on that other night of horror, I +had believed to contain another dead body. The sack seemed heavy. The +two men were scarcely able to lift it to the edge of the shaft. And I +could see that the little passageway was open—yes, the heavy wooden +lid which ordinarily closed it had been removed and was lying on the +ground. Rouletabille leaped lightly over the edge of the oubliette and +then made a step downward. He showed no hesitation; the way seemed to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</span> +be familiar to him. In a few moments his figure vanished from sight. +Then Pere Jacques pushed the sack into the passageway and leaned over +the edge, apparently still holding on to his burden which I could no +longer see. Then he stood back, closed up the opening and adjusted the +iron bars and in doing so made a sound which I suddenly remembered—the +sound which had puzzled me so much that evening when, before the +“discovery of Australia,” I had rushed in pursuit of a shadow which had +suddenly disappeared and which I had searched for up to the very door +of the New Castle.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>I felt that I must see—up to the very last moment. I must know all! +Too many strange and inexplicable things were filling my soul with +anxiety already. I had learned the most important part of the truth, +but I had not all of the truth—or, rather, something which would +explain the truth was still lacking.</p> + +<p>I left the Square Tower; I went to my own room in the New Castle, I +stationed myself at the window and my eyes lost themselves in the +depths of the shadows which covered the sea. Thick darkness; jealous +shadows. Nothing more. And then I strained my ears to listen, although +I knew that there was not the faintest sound of the strokes of the oar.</p> + +<p>All at once—far—very far off—it seemed to me that all this was +passing so far over the sea that it crossed the horizon—or, rather, +approached the horizon—I fancied that I could see in the narrow red +band which was all that remained of the setting sun something that +seemed more unreal than a vision.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</span></p> + +<p>Into that narrow red band an object entered—something dark and very +small, but to my eyes, which were fixed upon it in breathless suspense, +it seemed the greatest and most formidable sight that I had ever +beheld. It was the shadow of a fishing smack which glided over the +waters as automatically as though it were propelled by machinery and as +its movements became slower, and I saw it emerging from the gloom, I +recognized the form of Rouletabille. The oars ceased to move and I saw +my friend rise to his feet. I could recognize him and see everything +which he did as clearly as if he had not been ten yards away from me. +His gestures were outlined against the red background of the sunset +with a fantastic precision.</p> + +<p>What he had to do did not take long. He leaned over and got up again, +lifting in his arms something which seemed to mix with his form and +become a part of himself in the darkness. And then the burden glided +down into the water and the man’s figure reappeared alone, still +bending, still leaning over the edge of the boat, remaining thus for an +instant motionless, and then once more picking up the oars of the bark +which resumed its automatic motion until it had disappeared completely +from the dying glare of the ever narrowing band of red. And then the +band of red, too, vanished.</p> + +<p>Rouletabille had consigned the body of Larsan to the waves of Hercules.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="EPILOGUE">EPILOGUE</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Nice—Cannes—Saint-Raphael—Toulon. I saw without regret all the +stages of my return trip passing before my eyes. Upon the very day +which had followed all the horrible things I have related, I hastened +to quit the Midi, anxious to find myself once more in Paris and to +plunge into my business affairs—and anxious also to find myself alone +with Rouletabille, who was now only a few feet away from me, locked up +in a private compartment with the Lady in Black. Up to the very last +moment—that is to say, as far as Marseilles, where they were obliged +to separate, I was unwilling to interrupt their tender and sorrowful +confidences, their plans for the future, their fond farewells. Despite +all the prayers of Mathilde Rouletabille was determined to leave her, +to return to Paris and to his paper. The son had the superb heroism of +effacing himself for the sake of the husband. The Lady in Black had not +been able to resist Rouletabille and the boy had dictated exactly what +should be done. He had directed that <i>M. and Mme. Darzac</i> must +continue their honeymoon trip as if nothing remarkable had happened at +Rochers Rouges. It was one Darzac who had begun the journey; it was +another Darzac who was to finish it—this trip which had become such a +happy one—but in the eyes of all the world Darzac would be the same +man without any suspicion that things had ever been otherwise.</p> + +<p>M. and Mme. Darzac were married. The civil law united them. As to the +religious law, as Rouletabille said, the affair might easily be laid +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</span> +before the Pope while the couple were in Rome and there would, without +doubt, be found means of regularizing the situation, if there was found +to be need of it or if the conscientious scruples of the couple desired +it. And Robert Darzac and his wife were happy—completely happy. They +belonged to each other.</p> + +<p>At Rochers Rouges—at the “Louve” itself, we had said adieu to +Professor Stangerson. Robert Darzac had departed immediately for +Bordighera, where Mathilde was to join him. Arthur Rance and Mme. Edith +accompanied us to the railroad station. My charming hostess, contrary +to my hope, evinced no great amount of concern at my departure. I +attributed this indifference to the fact that Prince Galitch had +come to the quay to see us off. Mme. Edith was giving him the latest +bulletin from Old Bob’s bedside (which was excellent, by the way), and +paid no further attention to me. I felt a real pang of—was it grief +or wounded self love? And here and now, I have a confession to make to +the reader. Never would I have allowed myself to betray the sentiments +which I had entertained toward her, if, several years later, after the +death of Arthur Rance, which was surrounded and followed by a most +terrible tragedy of which I may relate the history one day, I had not +married the dark eyed, melancholy, romantic Edith!</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>We were approaching Marseilles.</p> + +<p>Marseilles!</p> + +<p>The farewells were heartrending, although neither Rouletabille nor the +Lady in Black uttered a word.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</span></p> + +<p>And as the train bore us away we saw her standing on the platform in +the station, without a movement or gesture, her arms hanging at her +side, looking in her sombre draperies like a statue of mourning and of +sorrow.</p> + +<p>I saw in front of me Rouletabille’s shoulders shaken with sobs.</p> + +<div class="tb">* * * * * </div> + +<p>Lyons. We could not sleep. We alighted from the train and walked about +the station. Both of us recalled the moment when we had been there +before—only a few days past—when we were rushing to the rescue of the +most unhappy of women. My thoughts plunged once more into the memories +of the tragedy and I knew that Rouletabille’s were following the same +track. And now Rouletabille spoke—spoke in a voice which he tried to +make sound careless and light hearted and which made me understand that +he was endeavoring to efface from his mind the thought of the grief +which had made him sob like a little child only a short while ago.</p> + +<p>“Old man!” he said, with a smile, throwing his arm across my shoulder. +“That Brignolles was really a beast!” and he looked at me with such an +air of reproach that he almost succeeded in making me believe for a +moment that I had ever taken the creature for an honest man.</p> + +<p>And then he told me everything—all the marvellous, horrible story +which I am compressing here into a few lines. Larsan had had need of +some relative of Darzac in order that he might obtain the necessary +signature for the incarceration of the Sorbonne professor in a +madhouse. And he discovered Brignolles. He could not have fallen +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</span> +upon a better man for his purpose. Everyone knows how simple it is, +even to-day, to have a human being, no matter who he may be, locked +up in a cell. The desire of a relative and the signature of a medical +man is sufficient in France, impossible as the thing appears, for the +accomplishment of this task which may be performed with the utmost +celerity. The matter of a signature never embarrassed Larsan in his +life. He forged one—that of an eminent alienist—and Brignolles, +richly reimbursed, charged himself with the rest. When Brignolles came +to Paris, he was already a party to the combination. Larsan had formed +his plan—to take Darzac’s place before the wedding. The accident to +the young professor’s eyes had been, as I had believed from the first, +the result of design. Brignolles had been directed to manage in some +manner so that Darzac’s eyes might be sufficiently injured that Larsan, +when he took his place, might have in his trickery the important +adjunct of dark spectacles, or, failing spectacles, which one cannot +wear always, the right to sit in the shadow without arousing suspicion.</p> + +<p>The departure of Darzac for the Midi must have strangely facilitated +the plans of the two villains. It was not until the end of his sojourn +at San Remo that Darzac had been, by the efforts of Larsan who had +never ceased to spy upon him, actually dragged to the lunatic asylum. +He had been assisted materially in this affair by that “special police +force” which has nothing to do with police officials and which puts +itself at the disposal of families in certain disagreeable cases which +demand as much discretion as rapidity in their execution.</p> + +<p>One day M. Darzac was taking a walk in the mountains. The asylum was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</span> +not far away—in fact, only a few steps from the Italian frontier—and +every preparation for the reception of “the unfortunate man” had been +made some time beforehand. Brignolles, before leaving for Paris at all, +had made arrangements with the proprietor and had presented to him +his proofs of relationship, and his representative—Larsan himself. +There are certain directors of such institutions who do not ask for +explanations, provided that the provisions of the law are complied +with—and that one pays well. And both these conditions were easily +carried out. And such things are done every day!</p> + +<p>“But how did you find out all these things?” I demanded of Rouletabille.</p> + +<p>“You remember, my friend,” the reporter replied, “that little piece +of paper which you brought back to the Château of Hercules on the day +when, without giving me any warning, you took it upon yourself to +follow the trail of the excellent Brignolles, who had come to make a +short stay in the Midi? That bit of paper, which bore the heading of +the Sorbonne and the two syllables, <i>bonnet</i>, gave me the most +important assistance. First of all, the circumstances under which you +found it—you recollect that you picked it up after you had seen Larsan +and Brignolles?—rendered it precious to me. And then the place where +it had been thrown was nearly a revelation for me when I began to take +up the search for the real Darzac, after I had gained the conviction +that his was ‘the body too many’ which had been tied up in the sack and +carried out in it.”</p> + +<p>And Rouletabille went on in the simplest manner possible, taking me in +his narrative over the different phases necessary for my comprehension +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</span> +of the mysteries which, up to that time, had remained so inexplicable +to every one of us. The first step in his reasoning had come from the +conclusions which he had drawn from the fact that the paint on the +drawing would dry less than fifteen minutes after it had been laid on, +and following that, the other formidable fact that a lie must have +been told by one of the two manifestations of Darzac. Bernier, under +the cross examination to which Rouletabille subjected him before the +return of the man who had carried the sack, had reported the lying +words of the man whom everyone had believed to be Darzac. That was what +had astonished Bernier—that the man who had come in at six o’clock +had not told him that the man who had entered at six o’clock <i>was +not he</i>! He was trying to conceal the fact that there existed a +second manifestation of Darzac and he would have had no interest in +concealing it, if his own personality had been the true one. That was +clear as the light of day! When the horror of the thing dawned upon +Rouletabille, he nearly swooned. His limbs refused to support him; +his teeth chattered; everything grew black in front of his eyes. But +he was not entirely without hope, even yet. Bernier might have been +mistaken. Perhaps he had not correctly understood the words which M. +Darzac had spoken in his amazement and confusion! Rouletabille decided +that he himself would question M. Darzac. Then he would soon see. How +he longed for his return! It would be for M. Darzac himself to “close +the circle.” He waited impatiently—and when Darzac returned how the +young reporter’s feeble hopes were crushed! “Did you look at the man’s +face?” he had asked; and when the so-called Darzac replied, “No—I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</span> +did not look at him!” Rouletabille could hardly hide his joy. It would +have been so easy for Larsan to have answered, “I saw him. The face +was that of Larsan!” And the young man had not understood that this +was the last piece of malice—the furthest limit of hatred in the mind +of the villain—and, too, one which fitted so well into his role. The +real Darzac would not have acted otherwise. He would have gotten rid +of his frightful booty as soon as possible without wishing to look at +it. But what could all the artifices of a Larsan accomplish against the +reasonings of a Rouletabille? The false Darzac, under the questionings +of Rouletabille had “closed the circle.” He had lied. Now Rouletabille +<i>knew</i>! And besides his eyes, which always looked <i>behind</i> the +reason, could see now.</p> + +<p>But what was to be done? Could he expose Larsan immediately and, +perhaps, give him a chance to escape? Could he reveal to his mother the +fact that she was married to Larsan and had helped him to kill Darzac? +No—a thousand times no! He felt the need of reflection—of combining +circumstances and possibilities. He wished to strike a sure blow when +he was ready to strike at all. He asked for twenty-four hours. He made +sure of the safety of the Lady in Black by begging her to take the +unoccupied room in Professor Stangerson’s suite and he made her take a +secret oath that she would not leave the château. He deceived Larsan +by making him think that he was firmly convinced of the guilt of Old +Bob. And when Walter rushed into the château with his empty sack the +first gleam of hope that Darzac might still be alive dawned upon his +mind. At last, he rushed off to find him, dead or living. He had in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</span> +his possession the revolver belonging to the real Darzac which he had +found in the Square Tower—a new revolver of which he had noticed the +style in a shop at Mentone. He went to that shop; he showed the clerk +the revolver; he learned that the weapon had been purchased a few days +before by a man of whom he was given a description—a soft hat, a loose +gray overcoat and a heavy beard. From there he lost all trace of the +man, but he was not discouraged. He took up another trail, or, rather, +he resumed that one which had led Walter to the gulfs of Castillon. +When he arrived there, he did what Walter had not done. The latter, as +soon as he had found the sack, looked for nothing more but hurried back +to the Fort of Hercules. But Rouletabille, on the contrary, continued +to follow the scent—and he perceived that this scent (which consisted +of the exceptional clearness of the impressions left by the two wheels +of the little English cart) instead of going back toward Mentone, after +having stopped at the abyss of Castillon, went toward the other side, +crossing by the mountain toward Sospel. Sospel! Had not Brignolles been +reported as having gone to Sospel? Brignolles! Rouletabille remembered +my sudden and interrupted journey. What could Brignolles be doing in +these parts? His presence might be closely allied to the solution of +the mystery. Certainly, the reappearance and disappearance of the +true Darzac suggested the idea that he must have been kept somewhere +in confinement. But where? Brignolles, who was undoubtedly in the +confidence of Larsan, had not made the journey from Paris for nothing. +Perhaps he had come at that critical moment to watch over this place +of confinement. Meditating thus and pursuing the logical tenor of his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</span> +reasoning, Rouletabille had questioned the landlord of the inn near +the Castillon tunnel, who had acknowledged to him that he had been +very much puzzled the day before by the passage through the tunnel of +a man who perfectly answered the description which had been given by +the gunsmith. This man had entered the tavern to drink. His manner and +appearance were so strange that the landlord had feared that he might +have escaped from the sanitarium. Rouletabille felt that he was on +the right track and asked as indifferently as he could, “You have a +sanitarium near here then?” “Oh, yes,” replied the landlord; “the Mount +Barbonnet sanitarium for mental diseases.” It was at this point that +the memory of the two syllables “bonnet” flashed in full significance +upon the brain of Rouletabille. Henceforth, he had no longer any doubt +that the real Darzac had been immolated by the false one as a madman in +the sanitarium of Mount Barbonnet. He was resolved to know everything +and to venture everything! He was certain that as a reporter of the +Epoch he possessed the means of loosening the tongue of proprietors of +sanitariums of the kind which take college professors as patients and +ask no questions. He hired a carriage and had himself driven to Sospel, +which is at the foot of the mountains. He realized that he was running +the chance of encountering Brignolles. But, fortunately, nothing of +the kind happened and the young man reached Mount Barbonnet and the +sanitarium in safety. His mind was filled now with the thought that he +was at last—definitely—to learn what had become of Robert Darzac! For +at the moment that the sack had been found without the corpse—from +the moment that the tracks of the little carriage descended toward +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</span> +Sospel or elsewhere and lost themselves; from the moment that he +had discovered that Larsan had not considered it prudent to relieve +himself of Darzac by throwing him in the sack into one of the gulfs of +Castillon, Rouletabille had believed that Larsan might have found it to +his interest to return the living Darzac to the madhouse at Sospel. And +the reasoning powers of Rouletabille showed him that this might well +be so. Darzac living might be more useful to Larsan than Darzac dead. +What hostage would he have otherwise on the day when Mathilde should +discover his imposture?</p> + +<p>And Rouletabille had guessed aright. At the very door of the asylum, +he had encountered Brignolles. Immediately, without warning, he +had seized him by the throat and threatened him with his revolver. +Brignolles was a coward. He entreated Rouletabille to spare him, vowing +that Darzac was living. A quarter of an hour later Rouletabille knew +the whole story. But the revolver had not sufficed, for Brignolles, +who feared and hated the thought of death, loved life and everything +which renders life desirable, particularly money. Rouletabille had not +much trouble to convince him that he was lost if he did not betray +Larsan and that he had much to gain if he helped the Darzac family to +extricate itself from the present situation without scandal. At the +close of the interview, both men entered the institution and were there +received by the director, who listened to what they had to say with +an amazement which was soon transformed into terror and later to the +greatest affability which showed itself in immediate preparations for +the release of Robert Darzac.</p> + +<p>Darzac, by the miraculous chance which I have already explained, had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</span> +sustained only a very slight injury from a wound which might easily +have been mortal. Rouletabille, almost wild with joy, took him at once +to Mentone. I will pass over the transports of both the rescuer and the +rescued. They had disposed of Brignolles by agreeing to meet him in +Paris for the settling of the accounts. On the journey, Rouletabille +learned from the lips of Darzac that the Sorbonne Professor in his +prison had a few days before happened to see the newspaper which spoke +of the fact that M. and Mme. Darzac, whose wedding had just taken place +in Paris, were guests at the Fort of Hercules. He had no further to +look in order to comprehend why all his misfortunes had taken place +and it was not difficult to guess who had had the fantastic audacity +to take his place at the side of the unfortunate woman whose still +wavering mind would have rendered so wild an enterprise not impossible. +This discovery seemed to give him strength which he had not guessed +that he possessed. After having stolen the overcoat of the director in +order to conceal his asylum garb and having found a purse containing +an hundred francs in the pocket, he had succeeded, at the risk of his +life, in scaling a wall which under any other circumstances he would +certainly have found insurmountable, and he had gone to Mentone. He +had hastened to the Fort of Hercules. And he had seen Darzac with his +own eyes! He had seen his very self. He spent a few hours in making +himself so like his double in dress and appearance that the other +Darzac himself might have been puzzled to find out which was which. His +plan was simple. He would make his way into the Fort of Hercules in +his own proper person—would enter the apartment of Mathilde and show +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</span> +himself to the other man in Mathilde’s presence, confounding him with +the truth. He had questioned the people of the coast and had learned +that the Darzacs’ suite was located at the back part of the Square +Tower. “The Darzacs’ suite”! All that he had suffered up to that time +seemed like nothing in comparison with what he felt at those words. And +this suffering had been without surcease until he had seen with his own +eyes, at the time of the corporeal demonstration of the possibility of +the “body too many,” the Lady in Black. Then he had understood all. +Never would she have dared to look at him like that, never would have +so joyously flown to the refuge of his arms, if for a single instant, +in body or in spirit, she had been the victim of the machinations of +that other man and had belonged to him as his wife. Robert Darzac and +Mathilde had been separated—but they had never lost each other!</p> + +<p>Before putting his project into execution, Darzac had purchased a +revolver at Mentone, had disembarrassed himself of his overcoat +which he had managed to lose, believing that it would be a means of +identification, had procured a suit of clothes which in color and in +cut was the counterpart of that worn by the other Darzac and had waited +until five o’clock—the hour at which he had resolved to act. He had +hidden himself behind the Villa Lucie, high up on the boulevard at +Garavan, at the top of a little hillock from which he could see plainly +all that was passing in the château. When he had passed by us and we +had both seen him he had had a fierce desire to cry out and tell us who +he was, but he had strength of mind enough to contain himself, desiring +to be recognized first of all by the Lady in Black. This hope alone +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</span> +sustained his steps. This only was worth the trouble of living and an +hour afterward, when he had had the life of Larsan at his disposal +while the latter sat in the same room with his back turned to him, +writing letters, he had not even been tempted by the idea of vengeance. +After so many sorrows, there was no room in Robert Darzac’s heart for +hatred of Larsan; it was too full of love for the Lady in Black. Poor +dear pitiful M. Darzac!</p> + +<p>We know the rest of the adventure. That which I did not know was the +way in which the true M. Darzac had penetrated a second time into the +Fort of Hercules and had obtained entrance a second time into the +recess hidden by the panel. And Rouletabille told me how on the same +night that he had taken M. Darzac to Mentone, he had learned through +the flight of Old Bob that there existed an entrance to the castle +through the oubliette and so he had, by the help of a little boat, +smuggled M. Darzac into the château by the way which Old Bob had taken +in going out. Rouletabille wished to be master of the hour when he came +to confound Larsan and strike him down. On that night it was too late +to act, but he felt that he could count upon finishing up the affair +on the night following. The only thing was how to hide M. Darzac on +the peninsula. And with the aid of Bernier, he had found him a quiet, +deserted little corner in the New Château.</p> + +<p>At this point of the narrative, I could not hinder myself from +interrupting Rouletabille with a cry which had the effect of sending +him into a burst of laughter.</p> + +<p>“It was really he then!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“It really was!” answered my friend.</p> + +<p>“That was how I was able to find the ‘map of Australia’! It was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</span> +the true Darzac with whom I stood face to face that night! And I +who understood nothing that was going on! For it was not only the +‘Australia’—it was the beard as well. And it did not come off—it was +natural! Oh, now, I understand everything!”</p> + +<p>“You’ve taken time enough about it!” replied Rouletabille, tranquilly. +“That night, old fellow, you caused us a lot of trouble. When you made +your appearance in the Court of the Bold, M. Darzac had come to take +me back to my underground passage. I had only time enough to close +the wooden lid above my head, while M. Darzac rushed back to the New +Castle. But when you had retired, after your experience with the beard, +he came back to me and we were bothered enough, I assure you. If, by +chance, you should speak of this adventure upon the morrow to the other +M. Darzac, believing that he was the same man you had seen in the New +Château, there would be a catastrophe. But I dared not yield to the +pleadings of M. Darzac, who begged me to go to you and tell you the +whole truth. I was afraid that, knowing how matters stood, you would +be unable to hide your feelings during the following day. You have a +rather impulsive nature, Sainclair, and the sight of a bad man usually +arouses in you a praiseworthy irritation which at such a moment might +have ruined us. And then, the other Darzac was so cunning and so +clever! I resolved to bring about the climax without saying anything to +you! I would return to the château the next morning. And from that time +on it was necessary to manage things so that you should not speak to +Darzac. That was why, as soon as it was daylight, I sent you word to go +fishing for brook trout——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, I understand!”</p> + +<p>“You always finish by understanding, Sainclair! I hope that you have +forgiven me for that fault which gave you such a charming hour with +Mme. Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Apropos of Mme. Edith, why did you take such a mischievous pleasure in +putting me into such a fit of anger?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“In order to have the right to abuse you and to forbid you to speak +henceforward, one word to me <i>or to M. Darzac</i>! I repeat to you +that, after your adventure of the night before, it would not have +done to let you talk to M. Darzac. Try to understand the position, +Sainclair!”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try, my friend!”</p> + +<p>“Much obliged!”</p> + +<p>“And still there is one thing that I don’t understand!” I exclaimed. +“The death of Pere Bernier. Who killed Bernier?”</p> + +<p>“It was the cane!” said Rouletabille, gloomily. “It was that damned +cane!”</p> + +<p>“I thought that it was ‘the oldest dagger known to humanity.’”</p> + +<p>“It was both of them; the cane and the flint. But it was the cane which +decided his death; the stone was only his executioner.”</p> + +<p>I stared at Rouletabille, asking myself whether, this time, I had not +come to the end of his intelligence.</p> + +<p>“You never understood, Sainclair—among other things—why upon the +morrow of the day on which I had come to comprehend everything, I had +let fall Arthur Rance’s ivory-headed cane in front of M. and Mme. +Darzac. It was because I hoped that M. Darzac would pick it up. You +remember, Sainclair, the ivory-headed cane which Larsan used to carry +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</span> +and the gestures he was in the habit of making with it while we were at +the Glandier? He had a fashion of holding his cane which was all his +own. I wanted to see whether Darzac would hold an ivory-headed cane as +Larsan had used to do. And this fixed idea pursued me until the morrow, +even after my visit to the insane asylum. Even after I had seen and +felt the true Darzac, I longed to see the imposter make the gestures of +Larsan. Ah, to see him suddenly brandish his cane like a bandit—forget +the disguise of his figure for one single moment! throw back his +falsely stooped shoulders. ‘Knock it, please! Knock at the shield of +the Mortolas with heavy blows of the cane, dear, dear M. Darzac!’ And +he knocked it—and I saw his form—erect—undisguised! And another man +saw it and he is dead! It was poor Bernier, who was so horrified at +the sight that he stumbled and fell so unfortunately on the ‘oldest +dagger’ that the wound killed him. He is dead because he picked up the +flint which, doubtless, had fallen out of Old Bob’s overcoat and which +Bernier had intended to take to the workshop of the Professor in the +Round Tower! He is dead, because at the same moment that he picked +up the flint he saw Larsan brandishing his cane—saw the scoundrel’s +figure and his gestures! All battles, Sainclair, have their innocent +victims!”</p> + +<p>We were both silent for a moment. And I could not keep myself from +mentioning the bitterness which I felt at the knowledge that he had had +so little confidence in me. I could not pardon him for having deceived +me as he had done everyone else in regard to Old Bob.</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</span></p> + +<p>“That was something that didn’t bother me at all. I was certain enough +that he was not in the sack! However on the night before he was fished +out of the grotto after I had hidden the true Darzac, under the +guidance of Bernier, in the New Château, and had left the gallery of +the underground passage after having left there my boat in readiness +for my projects of the morrow—my boat which had belonged to Paolo, a +fisherman, and a friend of ‘the Hangman of the Sea,’ I regained the +bank by my oars. I was undressed and carried my clothing in a package +on my head. As I went on, I met Paolo who was amazed to see me taking a +bath at such an hour and invited me to go fishing with him. I accepted. +And then I learned that the bark which I had used belonged to Tullio. +The ‘Hangman of the Sea’ had suddenly become rich and had announced to +everyone that he was about to return to his native country. He said +that he had sold some precious shells to the old professor for a very +great deal of money and, in fact, for many days past, he had been seen +a great deal in ‘the old professor’s’ company. Paolo knew that before +going to Venice, Tullio intended to stop at San Remo. When I heard all +this, I had a clear insight into Old Bob’s behavior and disappearance. +He had needed a boat in quitting the château and this boat was that +of the ‘Hangman of the Sea.’ I asked him for the address of Tullio in +San Remo and sent it to Arthur Rance in an anonymous letter. Rance +started for San Remo, believing that Tullio could inform him as to the +fate of Old Bob. And, in fact, Old Bob had paid Tullio to take him +to the grotto and then to disappear. It was out of pity for the old +savant that I had decided to warn Arthur Rance; for I feared that some +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</span> +accident might have befallen his relative. As for myself, all that I +could ask was that the old dandy would not put in an appearance before +I had finished with Larsan, for I wanted the false Darzac to believe +that Old Bob was occupying my mind to the exclusion of everything +else. And when I learned that he really had returned, I was, at first, +only half pleased, but I confess that the news of the wound in his +breast (because of the wound in the breast of the man in the sack) did +not cause me any pain at all. Thanks to that injury, I might hope to +continue my game a few hours longer.”</p> + +<p>“And why should you not have abandoned it immediately?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you understand that it would have been impossible for me to +have gotten rid of the body of Larsan in the daylight? A whole day was +necessary to prepare for the disappearance by night. But what a day we +had with the death of Bernier! The arrival of the gendarmes only served +to simplify the affair. I waited until I knew that they were gone. The +first rifle shot that you heard when we were in the Square Tower was +to inform me that the last gendarme had quitted the tavern at Albo, at +the Point of Garibaldi; the second told me that the customs officers +had gone into their cabins and were at supper and that <i>the sea was +free</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Rouletabille,” I said, looking into his clear eyes. “When you +left Tullio’s boat at the end of the gallery of the passageway, for +the carrying out of your plans, did you know already <i>what that boat +would carry away on the morrow</i>?”</p> + +<p>Rouletabille bowed his head.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</span></p> + +<p>“No,” he answered, sadly and slowly. “No—do not think that, Sainclair! +I did not expect that it would carry away a corpse. After all—he was +my father! <i>I believed that the boat would carry the ‘body too many’ +to the madhouse!</i> You understand, Sainclair? I would only have +condemned him to prison—forever. But he killed himself. It is God who +did it. May God forgive him!”</p> + +<p>We never spoke again of that night.</p> + +<p>At Laroche I was anxious for a hot supper, but Rouletabille refused +to join me. He bought all the Paris papers and buried himself in the +events of the day. The journals were filled with news from Russia. +A great conspiracy against the Czar had been discovered at St. +Petersburg. The facts related were so wonderful that they were almost +incredible.</p> + +<p>I unfolded the Epoch and I read in great black letters on the first +column of the first page:</p> + +<p class="nindc"> +“DEPARTURE OF JOSEPH ROULETABILLE<br> +FOR RUSSIA.”<br> +</p> + +<p>And underneath:</p> + +<p class="nindc"> +“<span class="allsmcap">THE CZAR IMPLORES HIS AID.</span>”<br> +</p> + +<p>I passed the paper to Rouletabille, who shrugged his shoulders and +said: “That’s a nice thing! Without even asking my opinion! What does +that fool of an editor think that I am going to do out there? I’m +not interested in the Czar. Let him and his Nihilists settle their +squabbles for themselves! It is their affair, not mine! To Russia? I +shall apply for a vacation—that’s what I’ll do! I need rest. I’ll +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</span> +tell you, Sainclair, you and I will go somewhere together. We’ll take a +nice, quiet rest——”</p> + +<p>“Not if I know it!” I cried hastily. “Thanks very much but I have had +enough of your kind of ‘nice, quiet rest’! I have a wild desire to +work!”</p> + +<p>“Just as you like. I won’t insist.”</p> + +<p>As we drew nearer Paris, he bathed his hands and face, combed his hair +and turned out his pockets. And in one of them he was surprised to find +a red envelope which had come there without anyone knowing how.</p> + +<p>“What nonsense is this?” he remarked carelessly, tearing it open.</p> + +<p>Then he burst into a peal of laughter. I had found my gay Rouletabille +again and I was anxious to know the reason for this hilarity.</p> + +<p>“Why, I’m going, old man!” he exclaimed. “I’m going to start +immediately! When things begin to come like this, it’s a little +different. I shall take the train to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Where to?”</p> + +<p>“To St. Petersburg.”</p> + +<p>He handed me the letter and I read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“We know, monsieur, that your paper has decided to send you to Russia, +on account of the incidents which are at this time disturbing the +court of Turkoie-Selo. <i>We are obliged to warn you that you will not +reach St. Petersburg alive.</i></p> + +<p class="nind"> +“(Signed)</p> + +<p class="nindc"> +“<span class="allsmcap">THE CENTRAL REVOLUTIONARY COMMITTEE.</span>”<br> +</p> +</div> + +<p>I looked at Rouletabille, whose eyes were shining with delight. +“Prince Galitch was at the station,” I remarked. He understood me and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</span> +shrugging his shoulders indifferently, he repeated:</p> + +<p>“Ah, now, old fellow, this begins to be amusing!”</p> + +<p>And this was all that I could get out of him, in spite of my +protestations. And that night when, at the Northern station, I put my +arms around him and begged him not to go, the tears in my eyes as I +spoke—he laughed again and repeated:</p> + +<p>“This is just beginning to be amusing!”</p> + +<p>And that was his farewell.</p> + +<p>The following day I took up the work which was waiting for me at the +Palace. The first of my colleagues whom I saw were MM. Henri-Robert and +Andre Hesse.</p> + +<p>“Did you have a pleasant holiday?” they asked me.</p> + +<p>“Delightful!” I responded.</p> + +<p>But I made such a grimace as I spoke that they both dragged me off to +take a drink with them.</p> + + +<p class="nindc space-above2 space-below2">THE END</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="nindc">THE GREAT HISTORICAL NOVEL ON NAPOLEON BONAPARTE</p> +</div> + +<p class="nindc"><span class="large"><b>The God of Clay</b></span></p> + +<p class="nindc"><i>By</i> H. C. BAILEY</p> + +<p class="nindc">With illustrations by ALEC C. BALL</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc"><i>12mo, Cloth, $1.50</i></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p>This is a remarkable historical novel with Napoleon Bonaparte for its +hero.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bailey writes of the times when the spirit of man, long cheated and +chained, broke fiercely forth and swept the old tyrant powers away, and +made France a clean land where freemen can live.</p> + +<p>Out of chaos men cried for order and law. And then came Napoleon—the +brain of a god and a mean man’s heart.</p> + +<p>Of Napoleon, of the men and women who loved him sometimes, the author +writes in this book; how their lines crossed and clashed under the +fool’s tyranny of Old France amid the rushing, murderous mad pageant of +the Terror, and again, and yet again, when Napoleon had won power and +glory and worship and hate and pity.</p> + +<p>Mr. H. C. Bailey’s book is a masterpiece; perhaps one of the very great +historical novels of modern days.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc">BRENTANO’S</p> + +<p class="nindc">Fifth Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street, New York</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="nindc"><i>The Great Detective Story from the French</i></p> +</div> + +<p class="nindc"><span class="large"><b>THE MYSTERY OF THE YELLOW ROOM</b></span></p> + +<p class="nindc"><i>By</i> GASTON LEROUX</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc">12mo, Cloth, $1.50</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p><i>Boston Herald</i>:—“For the many who delight in following the +intricacies of crime and the avenging hand of justice this book has +rare charms.”</p> + +<p><i>Detroit Journal</i>:—“For the blood-curdling mystery to be solved +only by a prematurely acute young reporter who has Sherlock Holmes +beaten to a stand-still, it would be hard to duplicate ‘The Mystery of +the Yellow Room.’”</p> + +<p><i>Pittsburg Dispatch</i>:—“The plot of this remarkable story is +so intricately woven and so elaborately developed that the reader’s +attention is positively enthralled from beginning to end.”</p> + +<p><i>St. Paul News</i>:—“The author uses a young journalist as his hero. +He has a mystery to solve, of course, but how he solves it is what +readers of the ‘Yellow Room’ sit up nights and forget dinner hours to +find out.”</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc">BRENTANO’S</p> + +<p class="nindc">Fifth Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street, New York</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="nindc"><i>A remarkable novel of London “Life.” One of the most striking pieces +of fiction of modern days.</i></p> +</div> + +<p class="nindc"><span class="large"><b>ADAM’S CLAY</b></span></p> + +<p class="nindc"><i>By</i> COSMO HAMILTON</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc">12mo, Cloth, $1.50</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p><i>The New York Evening Post</i>:—“This is a book which presents a not +ungrateful challenge to the critic whose lot it is to deal with the +‘ordinary run’ of English and American fiction. It is, at all events, +not dull. Perhaps one may best suggest its quality by naming it a story +not for the young person: it has precisely that Gallic attribute of +intelligibility. By this we do not mean the absolute worst; it is not a +sheer deliberate salacity, framed for the indecent amusement of those +who leer and giggle.”</p> + +<p><i>San Francisco Examiner</i>:—“A highly entertaining story.... It is +one of those stories that once begun will not let itself be laid aside. +The situations as they follow are dramatic, pathetic, and extremely +well drawn.”</p> + +<p><i>New York Sun</i>:—“The epigrammatic cynicism of the text is clever +and startling, the delineation of characters skilful and undisturbed by +any restrictions of propriety in its frankness. ‘Man is fire and woman +tow; the devil comes and sets them in a blaze,’ is the proverb upon +which the tale is founded.”</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc">BRENTANO’S</p> + +<p class="nindc">Fifth Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street, New York</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="nindc"><span class="large"><b>Lafcadio Hearn</b></span></p> +</div> + +<p class="nindc">Letters from the Raven</p> + +<p class="nindc"><span class="allsmcap">Being the Correspondence of</span></p> + +<p class="nindc">LAFCADIO HEARN <i>with</i> HENRY WATKIN</p> + +<p class="nindc"><i>Edited by</i> MILTON BRONNER</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc">12mo, Half Cloth, Gilt Top, $1.25 net</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p><i>Chicago Record Herald</i>:—“All who have felt the delight of +Lafcadio Hearn’s ‘sinuous, silvery, poetical prose’ ... will treasure +the little volume ... containing Hearn’s correspondence with Watkin, +the Cincinnati printer, who was his one lifelong friend. Out of that +rare friendship grew this volume of letters, which does more than else +to reveal the shy, sensitive, restless soul of Lafcadio Hearn.... The +whole volume is worth reading again and again, merely for its verbal +melody and the weird originality of its figures.”</p> + +<p><i>The Globe</i>:—“One of the most interesting series of letters that +has yet been published out of the large correspondence of the late +Lafcadio Hearn.”</p> + +<p><i>New York Press</i>:—“A distinct addition to the knowledge we now +have of this extraordinary man.”</p> + +<p><i>Troy Times</i>:—“This collection of letters gives a wonderful +insight into that mystery, beauty and charm which pervade the writings +of Lafcadio Hearn, and by their very intimacy and frankness picture his +mood and the development of those inborn emotions at a time when they +were clamoring for expression.”</p> + +<p><i>Louisville Times</i>:—“These letters give the only insight +obtainable into the personality of Hearn.”</p> + +<p><i>Indianapolis News</i>:—“A wonderfully interesting book.... These +letters of Lafcadio Hearn are a fascinating, psychological study. +They are in such beautiful English they are a delight to the ear. +His picturesque and trenchant references to art, literature, and +religion make the letters doubly interesting. This is one of the most +significant of recent publications.”</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="nindc">BRENTANO’S, Fifth Ave. and 27th St., New York</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote spa1"> +<p class="nindc"><b>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</b></p> + + +<p>Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.</p> + +<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a +predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they +were not changed.</p> + +<p>Unicode prime characters and lack of accent in the French words have +been kept as in the original version.</p> + +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75258 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75258-h/images/cover.jpg b/75258-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b98760 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_001.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..13d5d94 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_001.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_002.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ee110b --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_002.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_003.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..79c1d8d --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_003.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_004.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..da3179b --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_004.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_005.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..379abf8 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_005.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_006.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..42e9f16 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_006.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_007.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..40a6803 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_007.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_008.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb281c0 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_008.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_009.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1778da7 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_009.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_010.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c6cff0 --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_010.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_011.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b50cbe --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_011.jpg diff --git a/75258-h/images/i_012.jpg b/75258-h/images/i_012.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f8bbeb --- /dev/null +++ b/75258-h/images/i_012.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d15d993 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #75258 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75258) |
