diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/8stcl10.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/8stcl10.txt | 8650 |
1 files changed, 8650 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/8stcl10.txt b/old/8stcl10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..652d485 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8stcl10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8650 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Eight Strokes of the Clock, by Maurice Le Blanc +#3 in our series by Maurice Le Blanc + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Eight Strokes of the Clock + +Author: Maurice Le Blanc + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7896] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 31, 2003] +[Date last updated: November 16, 2004] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-Latin-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EIGHT STROKES OF THE CLOCK *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +[Illustration: The girl gasped as Renine (Arsene Lupin) drew forth the +mysterious telescope.] + + + THE EIGHT STROKES OF THE CLOCK + + BY + + MAURICE LE BLANC + + + + +AUTHOR'S NOTE + +These adventures were told to me in the old days by Arsène Lupin, as +though they had happened to a friend of his, named Prince Rénine. As for +me, considering the way in which they were conducted, the actions, the +behaviour and the very character of the hero, I find it very difficult not +to identify the two friends as one and the same person. Arsène Lupin is +gifted with a powerful imagination and is quite capable of attributing to +himself adventures which are not his at all and of disowning those which +are really his. The reader will judge for himself. + +M. L. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I ON THE TOP OF THE TOWER + +II THE WATER BOTTLE + +III THE CASE OF JEAN LOUIS + +IV THE TELL-TALE FILM + +V THÉRÈSE AND GERMAINE + +VI THE LADY WITH THE HATCHET + +VII FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW + +VIII AT THE SIGN OF MERCURY + + + + +I + +ON THE TOP OF THE TOWER + + +Hortense Daniel pushed her window ajar and whispered: + +"Are you there, Rossigny?" + +"I am here," replied a voice from the shrubbery at the front of the house. + +Leaning forward, she saw a rather fat man looking up at her out of a gross +red face with its cheeks and chin set in unpleasantly fair whiskers. + +"Well?" he asked. + +"Well, I had a great argument with my uncle and aunt last night. They +absolutely refuse to sign the document of which my lawyer sent them the +draft, or to restore the dowry squandered by my husband." + +"But your uncle is responsible by the terms of the marriage-settlement." + +"No matter. He refuses." + +"Well, what do you propose to do?" + +"Are you still determined to run away with me?" she asked, with a laugh. + +"More so than ever." + +"Your intentions are strictly honourable, remember!" + +"Just as you please. You know that I am madly in love with you." + +"Unfortunately I am not madly in love with you!" + +"Then what made you choose me?" + +"Chance. I was bored. I was growing tired of my humdrum existence. So I'm +ready to run risks.... Here's my luggage: catch!" + +She let down from the window a couple of large leather kit-bags. Rossigny +caught them in his arms. + +"The die is cast," she whispered. "Go and wait for me with your car at the +If cross-roads. I shall come on horseback." + +"Hang it, I can't run off with your horse!" + +"He will go home by himself." + +"Capital!... Oh, by the way...." + +"What is it?" + +"Who is this Prince Rénine, who's been here the last three days and whom +nobody seems to know?" + +"I don't know much about him. My uncle met him at a friend's shoot and +asked him here to stay." + +"You seem to have made a great impression on him. You went for a long ride +with him yesterday. He's a man I don't care for." + +"In two hours I shall have left the house in your company. The scandal will +cool him off.... Well, we've talked long enough. We have no time to lose." + +For a few minutes she stood watching the fat man bending under the weight +of her traps as he moved away in the shelter of an empty avenue. Then she +closed the window. + +Outside, in the park, the huntsmen's horns were sounding the reveille. The +hounds burst into frantic baying. It was the opening day of the hunt that +morning at the Château de la Marèze, where, every year, in the first week +in September, the Comte d'Aigleroche, a mighty hunter before the Lord, +and his countess were accustomed to invite a few personal friends and the +neighbouring landowners. + +Hortense slowly finished dressing, put on a riding-habit, which +revealed the lines of her supple figure, and a wide-brimmed felt hat, +which encircled her lovely face and auburn hair, and sat down to her +writing-desk, at which she wrote to her uncle, M. d'Aigleroche, a farewell +letter to be delivered to him that evening. It was a difficult letter to +word; and, after beginning it several times, she ended by giving up the +idea. + +"I will write to him later," she said to herself, "when his anger has +cooled down." + +And she went downstairs to the dining-room. + +Enormous logs were blazing in the hearth of the lofty room. The walls were +hung with trophies of rifles and shotguns. The guests were flocking in from +every side, shaking hands with the Comte d'Aigleroche, one of those typical +country squires, heavily and powerfully built, who lives only for hunting +and shooting. He was standing before the fire, with a large glass of old +brandy in his hand, drinking the health of each new arrival. + +Hortense kissed him absently: + +"What, uncle! You who are usually so sober!" + +"Pooh!" he said. "A man may surely indulge himself a little once a +year!..." + +"Aunt will give you a scolding!" + +"Your aunt has one of her sick headaches and is not coming down. Besides," +he added, gruffly, "it is not her business ... and still less is it yours, +my dear child." + +Prince Rénine came up to Hortense. He was a young man, very smartly +dressed, with a narrow and rather pale face, whose eyes held by turns +the gentlest and the harshest, the most friendly and the most satirical +expression. He bowed to her, kissed her hand and said: + +"May I remind you of your kind promise, dear madame?" + +"My promise?" + +"Yes, we agreed that we should repeat our delightful excursion of yesterday +and try to go over that old boarded-up place the look of which made us so +curious. It seems to be known as the Domaine de Halingre." + +She answered a little curtly: + +"I'm extremely sorry, monsieur, but it would be rather far and I'm feeling +a little done up. I shall go for a canter in the park and come indoors +again." + +There was a pause. Then Serge Rénine said, smiling, with his eyes fixed on +hers and in a voice which she alone could hear: + +"I am sure that you'll keep your promise and that you'll let me come with +you. It would be better." + +"For whom? For you, you mean?" + +"For you, too, I assure you." + +She coloured slightly, but did not reply, shook hands with a few people +around her and left the room. + +A groom was holding the horse at the foot of the steps. She mounted and set +off towards the woods beyond the park. + +It was a cool, still morning. Through the leaves, which barely quivered, +the sky showed crystalline blue. Hortense rode at a walk down winding +avenues which in half an hour brought her to a country-side of ravines and +bluffs intersected by the high-road. + +She stopped. There was not a sound. Rossigny must have stopped his engine +and concealed the car in the thickets around the If cross-roads. + +She was five hundred yards at most from that circular space. After +hesitating for a few seconds, she dismounted, tied her horse carelessly, so +that he could release himself by the least effort and return to the house, +shrouded her face in the long brown veil that hung over her shoulders and +walked on. + +As she expected, she saw Rossigny directly she reached the first turn in +the road. He ran up to her and drew her into the coppice! + +"Quick, quick! Oh, I was so afraid that you would be late ... or even +change your mind! And here you are! It seems too good to be true!" + +She smiled: + +"You appear to be quite happy to do an idiotic thing!" + +"I should think I _am_ happy! And so will you be, I swear you will! +Your life will be one long fairy-tale. You shall have every luxury, and all +the money you can wish for." + +"I want neither money nor luxuries." + +"What then?" + +"Happiness." + +"You can safely leave your happiness to me." + +She replied, jestingly: + +"I rather doubt the quality of the happiness which you would give me." + +"Wait! You'll see! You'll see!" + +They had reached the motor. Rossigny, still stammering expressions of +delight, started the engine. Hortense stepped in and wrapped herself in a +wide cloak. The car followed the narrow, grassy path which led back to the +cross-roads and Rossigny was accelerating the speed, when he was suddenly +forced to pull up. A shot had rung out from the neighbouring wood, on the +right. The car was swerving from side to side. + +"A front tire burst," shouted Rossigny, leaping to the ground. + +"Not a bit of it!" cried Hortense. "Somebody fired!" + +"Impossible, my dear! Don't be so absurd!" + +At that moment, two slight shocks were felt and two more reports were +heard, one after the other, some way off and still in the wood. + +Rossigny snarled: + +"The back tires burst now ... both of them.... But who, in the devil's +name, can the ruffian be?... Just let me get hold of him, that's all!..." + +He clambered up the road-side slope. There was no one there. Moreover, the +leaves of the coppice blocked the view. + +"Damn it! Damn it!" he swore. "You were right: somebody was firing at the +car! Oh, this is a bit thick! We shall be held up for hours! Three tires to +mend!... But what are you doing, dear girl?" + +Hortense herself had alighted from the car. She ran to him, greatly +excited: + +"I'm going." + +"But why?" + +"I want to know. Some one fired. I want to know who it was." + +"Don't let us separate, please!" + +"Do you think I'm going to wait here for you for hours?" + +"What about your running away?... All our plans ...?" + +"We'll discuss that to-morrow. Go back to the house. Take back my things +with you.... And good-bye for the present." + +She hurried, left him, had the good luck to find her horse and set off at a +gallop in a direction leading away from La Marèze. + +There was not the least doubt in her mind that the three shots had been +fired by Prince Rénine. + +"It was he," she muttered, angrily, "it was he. No one else would be +capable of such behaviour." + +Besides, he had warned her, in his smiling, masterful way, that he would +expect her. + +She was weeping with rage and humiliation. At that moment, had she found +herself face to face with Prince Rénine, she could have struck him with her +riding-whip. + +Before her was the rugged and picturesque stretch of country which lies +between the Orne and the Sarthe, above Alençon, and which is known as +Little Switzerland. Steep hills compelled her frequently to moderate her +pace, the more so as she had to cover some six miles before reaching her +destination. But, though the speed at which she rode became less headlong, +though her physical effort gradually slackened, she nevertheless persisted +in her indignation against Prince Rénine. She bore him a grudge not only +for the unspeakable action of which he had been guilty, but also for his +behaviour to her during the last three days, his persistent attentions, his +assurance, his air of excessive politeness. + +She was nearly there. In the bottom of a valley, an old park-wall, full +of cracks and covered with moss and weeds, revealed the ball-turret of a +château and a few windows with closed shutters. This was the Domaine de +Halingre. + +She followed the wall and turned a corner. In the middle of the +crescent-shaped space before which lay the entrance-gates, Serge Rénine +stood waiting beside his horse. + +She sprang to the ground, and, as he stepped forward, hat in hand, thanking +her for coming, she cried: + +"One word, monsieur, to begin with. Something quite inexplicable happened +just now. Three shots were fired at a motor-car in which I was sitting. Did +you fire those shots?" + +"Yes." + +She seemed dumbfounded: + +"Then you confess it?" + +"You have asked a question, madame, and I have answered it." + +"But how dared you? What gave you the right?" + +"I was not exercising a right, madame; I was performing a duty!" + +"Indeed! And what duty, pray?" + +"The duty of protecting you against a man who is trying to profit by your +troubles." + +"I forbid you to speak like that. I am responsible for my own actions, and +I decided upon them in perfect liberty." + +"Madame, I overheard your conversation with M. Rossigny this morning and it +did not appear to me that you were accompanying him with a light heart. I +admit the ruthlessness and bad taste of my interference and I apologise for +it humbly; but I risked being taken for a ruffian in order to give you a +few hours for reflection." + +"I have reflected fully, monsieur. When I have once made up my mind to a +thing, I do not change it." + +"Yes, madame, you do, sometimes. If not, why are you here instead of +there?" + +Hortense was confused for a moment. All her anger had subsided. She looked +at Rénine with the surprise which one experiences when confronted with +certain persons who are unlike their fellows, more capable of performing +unusual actions, more generous and disinterested. She realised perfectly +that he was acting without any ulterior motive or calculation, that he was, +as he had said, merely fulfilling his duty as a gentleman to a woman who +has taken the wrong turning. + +Speaking very gently, he said: + +"I know very little about you, madame, but enough to make me wish to be of +use to you. You are twenty-six years old and have lost both your parents. +Seven years ago, you became the wife of the Comte d'Aigleroche's nephew by +marriage, who proved to be of unsound mind, half insane indeed, and had +to be confined. This made it impossible for you to obtain a divorce and +compelled you, since your dowry had been squandered, to live with your +uncle and at his expense. It's a depressing environment. The count and +countess do not agree. Years ago, the count was deserted by his first wife, +who ran away with the countess' first husband. The abandoned husband and +wife decided out of spite to unite their fortunes, but found nothing but +disappointment and ill-will in this second marriage. And you suffer the +consequences. They lead a monotonous, narrow, lonely life for eleven months +or more out of the year. One day, you met M. Rossigny, who fell in love +with you and suggested an elopement. You did not care for him. But you were +bored, your youth was being wasted, you longed for the unexpected, for +adventure ... in a word, you accepted with the very definite intention of +keeping your admirer at arm's length, but also with the rather ingenuous +hope that the scandal would force your uncle's hand and make him account +for his trusteeship and assure you of an independent existence. That is how +you stand. At present you have to choose between placing yourself in M. +Rossigny's hands ... or trusting yourself to me." + +She raised her eyes to his. What did he mean? What was the purport of this +offer which he made so seriously, like a friend who asks nothing but to +prove his devotion? + +After a moment's silence, he took the two horses by the bridle and tied +them up. Then he examined the heavy gates, each of which was strengthened +by two planks nailed cross-wise. An electoral poster, dated twenty years +earlier, showed that no one had entered the domain since that time. + +Rénine tore up one of the iron posts which supported a railing that ran +round the crescent and used it as a lever. The rotten planks gave way. One +of them uncovered the lock, which he attacked with a big knife, containing +a number of blades and implements. A minute later, the gate opened on a +waste of bracken which led up to a long, dilapidated building, with a +turret at each corner and a sort of a belvedere, built on a taller tower, +in the middle. + +The Prince turned to Hortense: + +"You are in no hurry," he said. "You will form your decision this evening; +and, if M. Rossigny succeeds in persuading you for the second time, I give +you my word of honour that I shall not cross your path. Until then, grant +me the privilege of your company. We made up our minds yesterday to inspect +the château. Let us do so. Will you? It is as good a way as any of passing +the time and I have a notion that it will not be uninteresting." + +He had a way of talking which compelled obedience. He seemed to be +commanding and entreating at the same time. Hortense did not even seek +to shake off the enervation into which her will was slowly sinking. She +followed him to a half-demolished flight of steps at the top of which was +a door likewise strengthened by planks nailed in the form of a cross. + +Rénine went to work in the same way as before. They entered a spacious +hall paved with white and black flagstones, furnished with old sideboards +and choir-stalls and adorned with a carved escutcheon which displayed the +remains of armorial bearings, representing an eagle standing on a block of +stone, all half-hidden behind a veil of cobwebs which hung down over a pair +of folding-doors. + +"The door of the drawing-room, evidently," said Rénine. + +He found this more difficult to open; and it was only by repeatedly +charging it with his shoulder that he was able to move one of the doors. + +Hortense had not spoken a word. She watched not without surprise this +series of forcible entries, which were accomplished with a really masterly +skill. He guessed her thoughts and, turning round, said in a serious voice: + +"It's child's-play to me. I was a locksmith once." + +She seized his arm and whispered: + +"Listen!" + +"To what?" he asked. + +She increased the pressure of her hand, to demand silence. The next moment, +he murmured: + +"It's really very strange." + +"Listen, listen!" Hortense repeated, in bewilderment. "Can it be possible?" + +They heard, not far from where they were standing, a sharp sound, the sound +of a light tap recurring at regular intervals; and they had only to listen +attentively to recognise the ticking of a clock. Yes, it was this and +nothing else that broke the profound silence of the dark room; it was +indeed the deliberate ticking, rhythmical as the beat of a metronome, +produced by a heavy brass pendulum. That was it! And nothing could be more +impressive than the measured pulsation of this trivial mechanism, which by +some miracle, some inexplicable phenomenon, had continued to live in the +heart of the dead château. + +"And yet," stammered Hortense, without daring to raise her voice, "no one +has entered the house?" + +"No one." + +"And it is quite impossible for that clock to have kept going for twenty +years without being wound up?" + +"Quite impossible." + +"Then ...?" + +Serge Rénine opened the three windows and threw back the shutters. + +He and Hortense were in a drawing-room, as he had thought; and the room +showed not the least sign of disorder. The chairs were in their places. Not +a piece of furniture was missing. The people who had lived there and who +had made it the most individual room in their house had gone away leaving +everything just as it was, the books which they used to read, the +knick-knacks on the tables and consoles. + +Rénine examined the old grandfather's clock, contained in its tall carved +case which showed the disk of the pendulum through an oval pane of glass. +He opened the door of the clock. The weights hanging from the cords were at +their lowest point. + +At that moment there was a click. The clock struck eight with a serious +note which Hortense was never to forget. + +"How extraordinary!" she said. + +"Extraordinary indeed," said he, "for the works are exceedingly simple and +would hardly keep going for a week." + +"And do you see nothing out of the common?" + +"No, nothing ... or, at least...." + +He stooped and, from the back of the case, drew a metal tube which was +concealed by the weights. Holding it up to the light: + +"A telescope," he said, thoughtfully. "Why did they hide it?... And they +left it drawn out to its full length.... That's odd.... What does it mean?" + +The clock, as is sometimes usual, began to strike a second time, sounding +eight strokes. Rénine closed the case and continued his inspection without +putting his telescope down. A wide arch led from the drawing-room to a +smaller apartment, a sort of smoking-room. This also was furnished, but +contained a glass case for guns of which the rack was empty. Hanging on +a panel near by was a calendar with the date of the 5th of September. + +"Oh," cried Hortense, in astonishment, "the same date as to-day!... They +tore off the leaves until the 5th of September.... And this is the +anniversary! What an astonishing coincidence!" + +"Astonishing," he echoed. "It's the anniversary of their departure ... +twenty years ago to-day." + +"You must admit," she said, "that all this is incomprehensible. + +"Yes, of course ... but, all the same ... perhaps not." + +"Have you any idea?" + +He waited a few seconds before replying: + +"What puzzles me is this telescope hidden, dropped in that corner, at +the last moment. I wonder what it was used for.... From the ground-floor +windows you see nothing but the trees in the garden ... and the same, I +expect, from all the windows.... We are in a valley, without the least open +horizon.... To use the telescope, one would have to go up to the top of the +house.... Shall we go up?" + +She did not hesitate. The mystery surrounding the whole adventure excited +her curiosity so keenly that she could think of nothing but accompanying +Rénine and assisting him in his investigations. + +They went upstairs accordingly, and, on the second floor, came to a landing +where they found the spiral staircase leading to the belvedere. + +At the top of this was a platform in the open air, but surrounded by a +parapet over six feet high. + +"There must have been battlements which have been filled in since," +observed Prince Rénine. "Look here, there were loop-holes at one time. They +may have been blocked." + +"In any case," she said, "the telescope was of no use up here either and we +may as well go down again." + +"I don't agree," he said. "Logic tells us that there must have been some +gap through which the country could be seen and this was the spot where the +telescope was used." + +He hoisted himself by his wrists to the top of the parapet and then saw +that this point of vantage commanded the whole of the valley, including the +park, with its tall trees marking the horizon; and, beyond, a depression +in a wood surmounting a hill, at a distance of some seven or eight hundred +yards, stood another tower, squat and in ruins, covered with ivy from top +to bottom. + +Rénine resumed his inspection. He seemed to consider that the key to the +problem lay in the use to which the telescope was put and that the problem +would be solved if only they could discover this use. + +He studied the loop-holes one after the other. One of them, or rather the +place which it had occupied, attracted his attention above the rest. In +the middle of the layer of plaster, which had served to block it, there +was a hollow filled with earth in which plants had grown. He pulled out +the plants and removed the earth, thus clearing the mouth of a hole some +five inches in diameter, which completely penetrated the wall. On bending +forward, Rénine perceived that this deep and narrow opening inevitably +carried the eye, above the dense tops of the trees and through the +depression in the hill, to the ivy-clad tower. + +At the bottom of this channel, in a sort of groove which ran through it +like a gutter, the telescope fitted so exactly that it was quite impossible +to shift it, however little, either to the right or to the left. + +Rénine, after wiping the outside of the lenses, while taking care not to +disturb the lie of the instrument by a hair's breadth, put his eye to the +small end. + +He remained for thirty or forty seconds, gazing attentively and silently. +Then he drew himself up and said, in a husky voice: + +"It's terrible ... it's really terrible." + +"What is?" she asked, anxiously. + +"Look." + +She bent down but the image was not clear to her and the telescope had to +be focussed to suit her sight. The next moment she shuddered and said: + +"It's two scarecrows, isn't it, both stuck up on the top? But why?" + +"Look again," he said. "Look more carefully under the hats ... the +faces...." + +"Oh!" she cried, turning faint with horror, "how awful!" + +The field of the telescope, like the circular picture shown by a magic +lantern, presented this spectacle: the platform of a broken tower, the +walls of which were higher in the more distant part and formed as it were +a back-drop, over which surged waves of ivy. In front, amid a cluster of +bushes, were two human beings, a man and a woman, leaning back against a +heap of fallen stones. + +But the words man and woman could hardly be applied to these two forms, +these two sinister puppets, which, it is true, wore clothes and hats--or +rather shreds of clothes and remnants of hats--but had lost their eyes, +their cheeks, their chins, every particle of flesh, until they were +actually and positively nothing more than two skeletons. + +"Two skeletons," stammered Hortense. "Two skeletons with clothes on. Who +carried them up there?" + +"Nobody." + +"But still...." + +"That man and that woman must have died at the top of the tower, years and +years ago ... and their flesh rotted under their clothes and the ravens ate +them." + +"But it's hideous, hideous!" cried Hortense, pale as death, her face drawn +with horror. + + * * * * * + +Half an hour later, Hortense Daniel and Rénine left the Château de +Halingre. Before their departure, they had gone as far as the ivy-grown +tower, the remains of an old donjon-keep more than half demolished. The +inside was empty. There seemed to have been a way of climbing to the top, +at a comparatively recent period, by means of wooden stairs and ladders +which now lay broken and scattered over the ground. The tower backed +against the wall which marked the end of the park. + +A curious fact, which surprised Hortense, was that Prince Rénine had +neglected to pursue a more minute enquiry, as though the matter had lost +all interest for him. He did not even speak of it any longer; and, in the +inn at which they stopped and took a light meal in the nearest village, it +was she who asked the landlord about the abandoned château. But she learnt +nothing from him, for the man was new to the district and could give her no +particulars. He did not even know the name of the owner. + +They turned their horses' heads towards La Marèze. Again and again Hortense +recalled the squalid sight which had met their eyes. But Rénine, who was +in a lively mood and full of attentions to his companion, seemed utterly +indifferent to those questions. + +"But, after all," she exclaimed, impatiently, "we can't leave the matter +there! It calls for a solution." + +"As you say," he replied, "a solution is called for. M. Rossigny has to +know where he stands and you have to decide what to do about him." + +She shrugged her shoulders: "He's of no importance for the moment. The +thing to-day...." + +"Is what?" + +"Is to know what those two dead bodies are." + +"Still, Rossigny...." + +"Rossigny can wait. But I can't. You have shown me a mystery which is now +the only thing that matters. What do you intend to do?" + +"To do?" + +"Yes. There are two bodies.... You'll inform the police, I suppose." + +"Gracious goodness!" he exclaimed, laughing. "What for?" + +"Well, there's a riddle that has to be cleared up at all costs, a terrible +tragedy." + +"We don't need any one to do that." + +"What! Do you mean to say that you understand it?" + +"Almost as plainly as though I had read it in a book, told in full detail, +with explanatory illustrations. It's all so simple!" + +She looked at him askance, wondering if he was making fun of her. But he +seemed quite serious. + +"Well?" she asked, quivering with curiosity. + +The light was beginning to wane. They had trotted at a good pace; and the +hunt was returning as they neared La Marèze. + +"Well," he said, "we shall get the rest of our information from people +living round about ... from your uncle, for instance; and you will see how +logically all the facts fit in. When you hold the first link of a chain, +you are bound, whether you like it or not, to reach the last. It's the +greatest fun in the world." + +Once in the house, they separated. On going to her room, Hortense found her +luggage and a furious letter from Rossigny in which he bade her good-bye +and announced his departure. + +Then Rénine knocked at her door: + +"Your uncle is in the library," he said. "Will you go down with me? I've +sent word that I am coming." + +She went with him. He added: + +"One word more. This morning, when I thwarted your plans and begged you to +trust me, I naturally undertook an obligation towards you which I mean to +fulfill without delay. I want to give you a positive proof of this." + +She laughed: + +"The only obligation which you took upon yourself was to satisfy my +curiosity." + +"It shall be satisfied," he assured her, gravely, "and more fully than you +can possibly imagine." + +M. d'Aigleroche was alone. He was smoking his pipe and drinking sherry. He +offered a glass to Rénine, who refused. + +"Well, Hortense!" he said, in a rather thick voice. "You know that it's +pretty dull here, except in these September days. You must make the most +of them. Have you had a pleasant ride with Rénine?" + +"That's just what I wanted to talk about, my dear sir," interrupted the +prince. + +"You must excuse me, but I have to go to the station in ten minutes, to +meet a friend of my wife's." + +"Oh, ten minutes will be ample!" + +"Just the time to smoke a cigarette?" + +"No longer." + +He took a cigarette from the case which M. d'Aigleroche handed to him, lit +it and said: + +"I must tell you that our ride happened to take us to an old domain which +you are sure to know, the Domaine de Halingre." + +"Certainly I know it. But it has been closed, boarded up for twenty-five +years or so. You weren't able to get in, I suppose?" + +"Yes, we were." + +"Really? Was it interesting?" + +"Extremely. We discovered the strangest things." + +"What things?" asked the count, looking at his watch. + +Rénine described what they had seen: + +"On a tower some way from the house there were two dead bodies, two +skeletons rather ... a man and a woman still wearing the clothes which +they had on when they were murdered." + +"Come, come, now! Murdered?" + +"Yes; and that is what we have come to trouble you about. The tragedy must +date back to some twenty years ago. Was nothing known of it at the time?" + +"Certainly not," declared the count. "I never heard of any such crime or +disappearance." + +"Oh, really!" said Rénine, looking a little disappointed. "I hoped to +obtain a few particulars." + +"I'm sorry." + +"In that case, I apologise." + +He consulted Hortense with a glance and moved towards the door. But on +second thought: + +"Could you not at least, my dear sir, bring me into touch with some persons +in the neighbourhood, some members of your family, who might know more +about it?" + +"Of my family? And why?" + +"Because the Domaine de Halingre used to belong and no doubt still belongs +to the d'Aigleroches. The arms are an eagle on a heap of stones, on a rock. +This at once suggested the connection." + +This time the count appeared surprised. He pushed back his decanter and his +glass of sherry and said: + +"What's this you're telling me? I had no idea that we had any such +neighbours." + +Rénine shook his head and smiled: + +"I should be more inclined to believe, sir, that you were not very eager to +admit any relationship between yourself ... and the unknown owner of the +property." + +"Then he's not a respectable man?" + +"The man, to put it plainly, is a murderer." + +"What do you mean?" + +The count had risen from his chair. Hortense, greatly excited, said: + +"Are you really sure that there has been a murder and that the murder was +done by some one belonging to the house?" + +"Quite sure." + +"But why are you so certain?" + +"Because I know who the two victims were and what caused them to be +killed." + +Prince Rénine was making none but positive statements and his method +suggested the belief that he supported by the strongest proofs. + +M. d'Aigleroche strode up and down the room, with his hands behind his +back. He ended by saying: + +"I always had an instinctive feeling that something had happened, but I +never tried to find out.... Now, as a matter of fact, twenty years ago, +a relation of mine, a distant cousin, used to live at the Domaine de +Halingre. I hoped, because of the name I bear, that this story, which, +as I say, I never knew but suspected, would remain hidden for ever." + +"So this cousin killed somebody?" + +"Yes, he was obliged to." + +Rénine shook his head: + +"I am sorry to have to amend that phrase, my dear sir. The truth, on the +contrary, is that your cousin took his victims' lives in cold blood and in +a cowardly manner. I never heard of a crime more deliberately and craftily +planned." + +"What is it that you know?" + +The moment had come for Rénine to explain himself, a solemn and +anguish-stricken moment, the full gravity of which Hortense understood, +though she had not yet divined any part of the tragedy which the prince +unfolded step by step." + +"It's a very simple story," he said. "There is every reason to believe that +M. d'Aigleroche was married and that there was another couple living in +the neighbourhood with whom the owner of the Domaine de Halingre were on +friendly terms. What happened one day, which of these four persons first +disturbed the relations between the two households, I am unable to say. But +a likely version, which at once occurs to the mind, is that your cousin's +wife, Madame d'Aigleroche, was in the habit of meeting the other husband +in the ivy-covered tower, which had a door opening outside the estate. On +discovering the intrigue, your cousin d'Aigleroche resolved to be revenged, +but in such a manner that there should be no scandal and that no one +even should ever know that the guilty pair had been killed. Now he had +ascertained--as I did just now--that there was a part of the house, the +belvedere, from which you can see, over the trees and the undulations of +the park, the tower standing eight hundred yards away, and that this was +the only place that overlooked the top of the tower. He therefore pierced +a hole in the parapet, through one of the former loopholes, and from +there, by using a telescope which fitted exactly in the grove which he +had hollowed out, he watched the meetings of the two lovers. And it was +from there, also, that, after carefully taking all his measurements, and +calculating all his distances, on a Sunday, the 5th of September, when the +house was empty, he killed them with two shots." + +The truth was becoming apparent. The light of day was breaking. The count +muttered: + +"Yes, that's what must have happened. I expect that my cousin +d'Aigleroche...." + +"The murderer," Rénine continued, "stopped up the loophole neatly with a +clod of earth. No one would ever know that two dead bodies were decaying +on the top of that tower which was never visited and of which he took the +precaution to demolish the wooden stairs. Nothing therefore remained for +him to do but to explain the disappearance of his wife and his friend. This +presented no difficulty. He accused them of having eloped together." + +Hortense gave a start. Suddenly, as though the last sentence were a +complete and to her an absolutely unexpected revelation, she understood +what Rénine was trying to convey: + +"What do you mean?" she asked. + +"I mean that M. d'Aigleroche accused his wife and his friend of eloping +together." + +"No, no!" she cried. "I can't allow that!... You are speaking of a cousin +of my uncle's? Why mix up the two stories?" + +"Why mix up this story with another which took place at that time?" said +the prince. "But I am not mixing them up, my dear madame; there is only one +story and I am telling it as it happened." + +Hortense turned to her uncle. He sat silent, with his arms folded; and +his head remained in the shadow cast by the lamp-shade. Why had he not +protested? + +Rénine repeated in a firm tone: + +"There is only one story. On the evening of that very day, the 5th of +September at eight o'clock, M. d'Aigleroche, doubtless alleging as his +reason that he was going in pursuit of the runaway couple, left his house +after boarding up the entrance. He went away, leaving all the rooms as +they were and removing only the firearms from their glass case. At the +last minute, he had a presentiment, which has been justified to-day, that +the discovery of the telescope which had played so great a part in the +preparation of his crime might serve as a clue to an enquiry; and he threw +it into the clock-case, where, as luck would have it, it interrupted +the swing of the pendulum. This unreflecting action, one of those which +every criminal inevitably commits, was to betray him twenty years later. +Just now, the blows which I struck to force the door of the drawing-room +released the pendulum. The clock was set going, struck eight o'clock ... +and I possessed the clue of thread which was to lead me through the +labyrinth." + +"Proofs!" stammered Hortense. "Proofs!" + +"Proofs?" replied Rénine, in a loud voice. "Why, there are any number +of proofs; and you know them as well as I do. Who could have killed at +that distance of eight hundred yards, except an expert shot, an ardent +sportsman? You agree, M. d'Aigleroche, do you not?... Proofs? Why was +nothing removed from the house, nothing except the guns, those guns +which an ardent sportsman cannot afford to leave behind--you agree, M. +d'Aigleroche--those guns which we find here, hanging in trophies on the +walls!... Proofs? What about that date, the 5th of September, which was +the date of the crime and which has left such a horrible memory in the +criminal's mind that every year at this time--at this time alone--he +surrounds himself with distractions and that every year, on this same 5th +of September, he forgets his habits of temperance? Well, to-day, is the 5th +of September.... Proofs? Why, if there weren't any others, would that not +be enough for you?" + +And Rénine, flinging out his arm, pointed to the Comte d'Aigleroche, who, +terrified by this evocation of the past, had sunk huddled into a chair and +was hiding his head in his hands. + +Hortense did not attempt to argue with him. She had never liked her uncle, +or rather her husband's uncle. She now accepted the accusation laid against +him. + +Sixty seconds passed. Then M. d'Aigleroche walked up to them and said: + +"Whether the story be true or not, you can't call a husband a criminal for +avenging his honour and killing his faithless wife." + +"No," replied Rénine, "but I have told only the first version of the story. +There is another which is infinitely more serious ... and more probable, +one to which a more thorough investigation would be sure to lead." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean this. It may not be a matter of a husband taking the law into his +own hands, as I charitably supposed. It may be a matter of a ruined man who +covets his friend's money and his friend's wife and who, with this object +in view, to secure his freedom, to get rid of his friend and of his own +wife, draws them into a trap, suggests to them that they should visit that +lonely tower and kills them by shooting them from a distance safely under +cover." + +"No, no," the count protested. "No, all that is untrue." + +"I don't say it isn't. I am basing my accusation on proofs, but also on +intuitions and arguments which up to now have been extremely accurate. All +the same, I admit that the second version may be incorrect. But, if so, why +feel any remorse? One does not feel remorse for punishing guilty people." + +"One does for taking life. It is a crushing burden to bear." + +"Was it to give himself greater strength to bear this burden that M. +d'Aigleroche afterwards married his victim's widow? For that, sir, is +the crux of the question. What was the motive of that marriage? Was M. +d'Aigleroche penniless? Was the woman he was taking as his second wife +rich? Or were they both in love with each other and did M. d'Aigleroche +plan with her to kill his first wife and the husband of his second wife? +These are problems to which I do not know the answer. They have no interest +for the moment; but the police, with all the means at their disposal, would +have no great difficulty in elucidating them." + +M. d'Aigleroche staggered and had to steady himself against the back of a +chair. Livid in the face, he spluttered: + +"Are you going to inform the police?" + +"No, no," said Rénine. "To begin with, there is the statute of limitations. +Then there are twenty years of remorse and dread, a memory which will +pursue the criminal to his dying hour, accompanied no doubt by domestic +discord, hatred, a daily hell ... and, in the end, the necessity of +returning to the tower and removing the traces of the two murders, the +frightful punishment of climbing that tower, of touching those skeletons, +of undressing them and burying them. That will be enough. We will not ask +for more. We will not give it to the public to batten on and create a +scandal which would recoil upon M. d'Aigleroche's niece. No, let us leave +this disgraceful business alone." + +The count resumed his seat at the table, with his hands clutching his +forehead, and asked: + +"Then why ...?" + +"Why do I interfere?" said Rénine. "What you mean is that I must have +had some object in speaking. That is so. There must indeed be a penalty, +however slight, and our interview must lead to some practical result. But +have no fear: M. d'Aigleroche will be let off lightly." + +The contest was ended. The count felt that he had only a small formality to +fulfil, a sacrifice to accept; and, recovering some of his self-assurance, +he said, in an almost sarcastic tone: + +"What's your price?" + +Rénine burst out laughing: + +"Splendid! You see the position. Only, you make a mistake in drawing me +into the business. I'm working for the glory of the thing." + +"In that case?" + +"You will be called upon at most to make restitution." + +"Restitution?" + +Rénine leant over the table and said: + +"In one of those drawers is a deed awaiting your signature. It is a draft +agreement between you and your niece Hortense Daniel, relating to her +private fortune, which fortune was squandered and for which you are +responsible. Sign the deed." + +M. d'Aigleroche gave a start: + +"Do you know the amount?" + +"I don't wish to know it." + +"And if I refuse?..." + +"I shall ask to see the Comtesse d'Aigleroche." + +Without further hesitation, the count opened a drawer, produced a document +on stamped paper and quickly signed it: + +"Here you are," he said, "and I hope...." + +"You hope, as I do, that you and I may never have any future dealings? I'm +convinced of it. I shall leave this evening; your niece, no doubt, +tomorrow. Good-bye." + + * * * * * + +In the drawing-room, which was still empty, while the guests at the +house were dressing for dinner, Rénine handed the deed to Hortense. She +seemed dazed by all that she had heard; and the thing that bewildered her +even more than the relentless light shed upon her uncle's past was the +miraculous insight and amazing lucidity displayed by this man: the man who +for some hours had controlled events and conjured up before her eyes the +actual scenes of a tragedy which no one had beheld. + +"Are you satisfied with me?" he asked. + +She gave him both her hands: + +"You have saved me from Rossigny. You have given me back my freedom and my +independence. I thank you from the bottom of my heart." + +"Oh, that's not what I am asking you to say!" he answered. "My first and +main object was to amuse you. Your life seemed so humdrum and lacking in +the unexpected. Has it been so to-day?" + +"How can you ask such a question? I have had the strangest and most +stirring experiences." + +"That is life," he said. "When one knows how to use one's eyes. Adventure +exists everywhere, in the meanest hovel, under the mask of the wisest of +men. Everywhere, if you are only willing, you will find an excuse for +excitement, for doing good, for saving a victim, for ending an injustice." + +Impressed by his power and authority, she murmured: + +"Who are you exactly?" + +"An adventurer. Nothing more. A lover of adventures. Life is not worth +living except in moments of adventure, the adventures of others or personal +adventures. To-day's has upset you because it affected the innermost depths +of your being. But those of others are no less stimulating. Would you like +to make the experiment?" + +"How?" + +"Become the companion of my adventures. If any one calls on me for help, +help him with me. If chance or instinct puts me on the track of a crime or +the trace of a sorrow, let us both set out together. Do you consent?" + +"Yes," she said, "but...." + +She hesitated, as though trying to guess Rénine's secret intentions. + +"But," he said, expressing her thoughts for her, with a smile, "you are a +trifle sceptical. What you are saying to yourself is, 'How far does that +lover of adventures want to make me go? It is quite obvious that I attract +him; and sooner or later he would not be sorry to receive payment for his +services.' You are quite right. We must have a formal contract." + +"Very formal," said Hortense, preferring to give a jesting tone to the +conversation. "Let me hear your proposals." + +He reflected for a moment and continued: + +"Well, we'll say this. The clock at Halingre gave eight strokes this +afternoon, the day of the first adventure. Will you accept its decree and +agree to carry out seven more of these delightful enterprises with me, +during a period, for instance, of three months? And shall we say that, at +the eighth, you will be pledged to grant me...." + +"What?" + +He deferred his answer: + +"Observe that you will always be at liberty to leave me on the road if I +do not succeed in interesting you. But, if you accompany me to the end, if +you allow me to begin and complete the eighth enterprise with you, in three +months, on the 5th of December, at the very moment when the eighth stroke +of that clock sounds--and it will sound, you may be sure of that, for the +old brass pendulum will not stop swinging again--you will be pledged to +grant me...." + +"What?" she repeated, a little unnerved by waiting. + +He was silent. He looked at the beautiful lips which he had meant to claim +as his reward. He felt perfectly certain that Hortense had understood and +he thought it unnecessary to speak more plainly: + +"The mere delight of seeing you will be enough to satisfy me. It is not for +me but for you to impose conditions. Name them: what do you demand?" + +She was grateful for his respect and said, laughingly: + +"What do I demand?" + +"Yes." + +"Can I demand anything I like, however difficult and impossible?" + +"Everything is easy and everything is possible to the man who is bent on +winning you." + +Then she said: + +"I demand that you shall restore to me a small, antique clasp, made of a +cornelian set in a silver mount. It came to me from my mother and everyone +knew that it used to bring her happiness and me too. Since the day when it +vanished from my jewel-case, I have had nothing but unhappiness. Restore it +to me, my good genius." + +"When was the clasp stolen?" + +She answered gaily: + +"Seven years ago ... or eight ... or nine; I don't know exactly ... I don't +know where ... I don't know how ... I know nothing about it...." + +"I will find it," Rénine declared, "and you shall be happy." + + + + +II + +THE WATER-BOTTLE + + +Four days after she had settled down in Paris, Hortense Daniel agreed to +meet Prince Rénine in the Bois. It was a glorious morning and they sat down +on the terrace of the Restaurant Impérial, a little to one side. + +Hortense, feeling glad to be alive, was in a playful mood, full of +attractive grace. Rénine, lest he should startle her, refrained from +alluding to the compact into which they had entered at his suggestion. +She told him how she had left La Marèze and said that she had not heard +of Rossigny. + +"I have," said Rénine. "I've heard of him." + +"Oh?" + +"Yes, he sent me a challenge. We fought a duel this morning. Rossigny got +a scratch in the shoulder. That finished the duel. Let's talk of something +else." + +There was no further mention of Rossigny. Rénine at once expounded to +Hortense the plan of two enterprises which he had in view and in which he +offered, with no great enthusiasm, to let her share: + +"The finest adventure," he declared, "is that which we do not foresee. It +comes unexpectedly, unannounced; and no one, save the initiated, realizes +that an opportunity to act and to expend one's energies is close at hand. +It has to be seized at once. A moment's hesitation may mean that we are too +late. We are warned by a special sense, like that of a sleuth-hound which +distinguishes the right scent from all the others that cross it." + +The terrace was beginning to fill up around them. At the next table sat +a young man reading a newspaper. They were able to see his insignificant +profile and his long, dark moustache. From behind them, through an open +window of the restaurant, came the distant strains of a band; in one of +the rooms a few couples were dancing. + +As Rénine was paying for the refreshments, the young man with the long +moustache stifled a cry and, in a choking voice, called one of the waiters: + +"What do I owe you?... No change? Oh, good Lord, hurry up!" + +Rénine, without a moment's hesitation, had picked up the paper. After +casting a swift glance down the page, he read, under his breath: + + "Maître Dourdens, the counsel for the defence in the trial of Jacques + Aubrieux, has been received at the Élysée. We are informed that the + President of the Republic has refused to reprieve the condemned man + and that the execution will take place to-morrow morning." + +After crossing the terrace, the young man found himself faced, at the +entrance to the garden, by a lady and gentleman who blocked his way; and +the latter said: + +"Excuse me, sir, but I noticed your agitation. It's about Jacques Aubrieux, +isn't it?" + +"Yes, yes, Jacques Aubrieux," the young man stammered. "Jacques, the friend +of my childhood. I'm hurrying to see his wife. She must be beside herself +with grief." + +"Can I offer you my assistance? I am Prince Rénine. This lady and I would +be happy to call on Madame Aubrieux and to place our services at her +disposal." + +The young man, upset by the news which he had read, seemed not to +understand. He introduced himself awkwardly: + +"My name is Dutreuil, Gaston Dutreuil." + +Rénine beckoned to his chauffeur, who was waiting at some little distance, +and pushed Gaston Dutreuil into the car, asking: + +"What address? Where does Madame Aubrieux live?" + +"23 _bis_, Avenue du Roule." + +After helping Hortense in, Rénine repeated the address to the chauffeur +and, as soon as they drove off, tried to question Gaston Dutreuil: + +"I know very little of the case," he said. "Tell it to me as briefly as you +can. Jacques Aubrieux killed one of his near relations, didn't he?" + +"He is innocent, sir," replied the young man, who seemed incapable of +giving the least explanation. "Innocent, I swear it. I've been Jacques' +friend for twenty years ... He is innocent ... and it would be +monstrous...." + +There was nothing to be got out of him. Besides, it was only a short drive. +They entered Neuilly through the Porte des Sablons and, two minutes later, +stopped before a long, narrow passage between high walls which led them to +a small, one-storeyed house. + +Gaston Dutreuil rang. + +"Madame is in the drawing-room, with her mother," said the maid who opened +the door. + +"I'll go in to the ladies," he said, taking Rénine and Hortense with him. + +It was a fair-sized, prettily-furnished room, which, in ordinary times, +must have been used also as a study. Two women sat weeping, one of whom, +elderly and grey-haired, came up to Gaston Dutreuil. He explained the +reason for Rénine's presence and she at once cried, amid her sobs: + +"My daughter's husband is innocent, sir. Jacques? A better man never lived. +He was so good-hearted! Murder his cousin? But he worshipped his cousin! I +swear that he's not guilty, sir! And they are going to commit the infamy of +putting him to death? Oh, sir, it will kill my daughter!" + +Rénine realized that all these people had been living for months under the +obsession of that innocence and in the certainty that an innocent man could +never be executed. The news of the execution, which was now inevitable, was +driving them mad. + +He went up to a poor creature bent in two whose face, a quite young face, +framed in pretty, flaxen hair, was convulsed with desperate grief. +Hortense, who had already taken a seat beside her, gently drew her head +against her shoulder. Rénine said to her: + +"Madame, I do not know what I can do for you. But I give you my word of +honour that, if any one in this world can be of use to you, it is myself. +I therefore implore you to answer my questions as though the clear and +definite wording of your replies were able to alter the aspect of things +and as though you wished to make me share your opinion of Jacques Aubrieux. +For he is innocent, is he not?" + +"Oh, sir, indeed he is!" she exclaimed; and the woman's whole soul was in +the words. + +"You are certain of it. But you were unable to communicate your certainty +to the court. Well, you must now compel me to share it. I am not asking you +to go into details and to live again through the hideous torment which you +have suffered, but merely to answer certain questions. Will you do this?" + +"I will." + +Rénine's influence over her was complete. With a few sentences Rénine had +succeeded in subduing her and inspiring her with the will to obey. And once +more Hortense realized all the man's power, authority and persuasion. + +"What was your husband?" he asked, after begging the mother and Gaston +Dutreuil to preserve absolute silence. + +"An insurance-broker." + +"Lucky in business?" + +"Until last year, yes." + +"So there have been financial difficulties during the past few months?" + +"Yes." + +"And the murder was committed when?" + +"Last March, on a Sunday." + +"Who was the victim?" + +"A distant cousin, M. Guillaume, who lived at Suresnes." + +"What was the sum stolen?" + +"Sixty thousand-franc notes, which this cousin had received the day before, +in payment of a long-outstanding debt." + +"Did your husband know that?" + +"Yes. His cousin told him of it on the Sunday, in the course of a +conversation on the telephone, and Jacques insisted that his cousin ought +not to keep so large a sum in the house and that he ought to pay it into a +bank next day." + +"Was this in the morning?" + +"At one o'clock in the afternoon. Jacques was to have gone to M. Guillaume +on his motor-cycle. But he felt tired and told him that he would not go +out. So he remained here all day." + +"Alone?" + +"Yes. The two servants were out. I went to the Cinéma des Ternes with my +mother and our friend Dutreuil. In the evening, we learnt that M. Guillaume +had been murdered. Next morning, Jacques was arrested." + +"On what evidence?" + +The poor creature hesitated to reply: the evidence of guilt had evidently +been overwhelming. Then, obeying a sign from Rénine, she answered without +a pause: + +"The murderer went to Suresnes on a motorcycle and the tracks discovered +were those of my husband's machine. They found a handkerchief with my +husband's initials; and the revolver which was used belonged to him. +Lastly, one of our neighbours maintains that he saw my husband go out +on his bicycle at three o'clock and another that he saw him come in at +half-past four. The murder was committed at four o'clock." + +"And what does Jacques Aubrieux say in his defence?" + +"He declares that he slept all the afternoon. During that time, some one +came who managed to unlock the cycle-shed and take the motor-cycle to go +to Suresnes. As for the handkerchief and the revolver, they were in the +tool-bag. There would be nothing surprising in the murderer's using them." + +"It seems a plausible explanation." + +"Yes, but the prosecution raised two objections. In the first place, +nobody, absolutely nobody, knew that my husband was going to stay at +home all day, because, on the contrary, it was his habit to go out on +his motor-cycle every Sunday afternoon." + +"And the second objection?" + +She flushed and murmured: + +"The murderer went to the pantry at M. Guillaume's and drank half a bottle +of wine straight out of the bottle, which shows my husband's fingerprints." + +It seemed as though her strength was exhausted and as though, at the same +time, the unconscious hope which Rénine's intervention had awakened in her +had suddenly vanished before the accumulation of adverse facts. Again she +collapsed, withdrawn into a sort of silent meditation from which Hortense's +affectionate attentions were unable to distract her. + +The mother stammered: + +"He's not guilty, is he, sir? And they can't punish an innocent man. They +haven't the right to kill my daughter. Oh dear, oh dear, what have we done +to be tortured like this? My poor little Madeleine!" + +"She will kill herself," said Dutreuil, in a scared voice. "She will never +be able to endure the idea that they are guillotining Jacques. She will +kill herself presently ... this very night...." + +Rénine was striding up and down the room. + +"You can do nothing for her, can you?" asked Hortense. + +"It's half-past eleven now," he replied, in an anxious tone, "and it's to +happen to-morrow morning." + +"Do you think he's guilty?" + +"I don't know.... I don't know.... The poor woman's conviction is too +impressive to be neglected. When two people have lived together for years, +they can hardly be mistaken about each other to that degree. And yet...." + +He stretched himself out on a sofa and lit a cigarette. He smoked three in +succession, without a word from any one to interrupt his train of thought. +From time to time he looked at his watch. Every minute was of such +importance! + +At last he went back to Madeleine Aubrieux, took her hands and said, very +gently: + +"You must not kill yourself. There is hope left until the last minute has +come; and I promise you that, for my part, I will not be disheartened until +that last minute. But I need your calmness and your confidence." + +"I will be calm," she said, with a pitiable air. + +"And confident?" + +"And confident." + +"Well, wait for me. I shall be back in two hours from now. Will you come +with us, M. Dutreuil?" + +As they were stepping into his car, he asked the young man: + +"Do you know any small, unfrequented restaurant, not too far inside Paris?" + +"There's the Brasserie Lutetia, on the ground-floor of the house in which I +live, on the Place des Ternes." + +"Capital. That will be very handy." + +They scarcely spoke on the way. Rénine, however, said to Gaston Dutreuil: + +"So far as I remember, the numbers of the notes are known, aren't they?" + +"Yes. M. Guillaume had entered the sixty numbers in his pocket-book." + +Rénine muttered, a moment later: + +"That's where the whole problem lies. Where are the notes? If we could lay +our hands on them, we should know everything." + +At the Brasserie Lutetia there was a telephone in the private room where +he asked to have lunch served. When the waiter had left him alone with +Hortense and Dutreuil, he took down the receiver with a resolute air: + +"Hullo!... Prefecture of police, please.... Hullo! Hullo!... Is that the +Prefecture of police? Please put me on to the criminal investigation +department. I have a very important communication to make. You can say it's +Prince Rénine." + +Holding the receiver in his hand, he turned to Gaston Dutreuil: + +"I can ask some one to come here, I suppose? We shall be quite +undisturbed?" + +"Quite." + +He listened again: + +"The secretary to the head of the criminal investigation department? Oh, +excellent! Mr. Secretary, I have on several occasions been in communication +with M. Dudouis and have given him information which has been of great use +to him. He is sure to remember Prince Rénine. I may be able to-day to show +him where the sixty thousand-franc notes are hidden which Aubrieux the +murderer stole from his cousin. If he's interested in the proposal, beg him +to send an inspector to the Brasserie Lutetia, Place des Ternes. I shall +be there with a lady and M. Dutreuil, Aubrieux's friend. Good day, Mr. +Secretary." + +When Rénine hung up the instrument, he saw the amazed faces of Hortense and +of Gaston Dutreuil confronting him. + +Hortense whispered: + +"Then you know? You've discovered ...?" + +"Nothing," he said, laughing. + +"Well?" + +"Well, I'm acting as though I knew. It's not a bad method. Let's have some +lunch, shall we?" + +The clock marked a quarter to one. + +"The man from the prefecture will be here," he said, "in twenty minutes at +latest." + +"And if no one comes?" Hortense objected. + +"That would surprise me. Of course, if I had sent a message to M. Dudouis +saying, 'Aubrieux is innocent,' I should have failed to make any +impression. It's not the least use, on the eve of an execution, to attempt +to convince the gentry of the police or of the law that a man condemned +to death is innocent. No. From henceforth Jacques Aubrieux belongs to +the executioner. But the prospect of securing the sixty bank-notes is a +windfall worth taking a little trouble over. Just think: that was the +weak point in the indictment, those sixty notes which they were unable +to trace." + +"But, as you know nothing of their whereabouts...." + +"My dear girl--I hope you don't mind my calling you so?--my dear girl, when +a man can't explain this or that physical phenomenon, he adopts some sort +of theory which explains the various manifestations of the phenomenon and +says that everything happened as though the theory were correct. That's +what I am doing." + +"That amounts to saying that you are going upon a supposition?" + +Rénine did not reply. Not until some time later, when lunch was over, did +he say: + +"Obviously I am going upon a supposition. If I had several days before me, +I should take the trouble of first verifying my theory, which is based upon +intuition quite as much as upon a few scattered facts. But I have only two +hours; and I am embarking on the unknown path as though I were certain that +it would lead me to the truth." + +"And suppose you are wrong?" + +"I have no choice. Besides, it is too late. There's a knock. Oh, one word +more! Whatever I may say, don't contradict me. Nor you, M. Dutreuil." + +He opened the door. A thin man, with a red imperial, entered: + +"Prince Rénine?" + +"Yes, sir. You, of course, are from M. Dudouis?" + +"Yes." + +And the newcomer gave his name: + +"Chief-inspector Morisseau." + +"I am obliged to you for coming so promptly, Mr. Chief-inspector," said +Prince Rénine, "and I hope that M. Dudouis will not regret having placed +you at my disposal." + +"At your entire disposal, in addition to two inspectors whom I have left in +the square outside and who have been in the case, with me, from the first." + +"I shall not detain you for any length of time," said Rénine, "and I will +not even ask you to sit down. We have only a few minutes in which to settle +everything. You know what it's all about?" + +"The sixty thousand-franc notes stolen from M. Guillaume. I have the +numbers here." + +Rénine ran his eyes down the slip of paper which the chief-inspector handed +him and said: + +"That's right. The two lists agree." + +Inspector Morisseau seemed greatly excited: + +"The chief attaches the greatest importance to your discovery. So you will +be able to show me?..." + +Rénine was silent for a moment and then declared: + +"Mr. Chief-inspector, a personal investigation--and a most exhaustive +investigation it was, as I will explain to you presently--has revealed +the fact that, on his return from Suresnes, the murderer, after replacing +the motor-cycle in the shed in the Avenue du Roule, ran to the Ternes and +entered this house." + +"This house?" + +"Yes." + +"But what did he come here for?" + +"To hide the proceeds of his theft, the sixty bank-notes." + +"How do you mean? Where?" + +"In a flat of which he had the key, on the fifth floor." + +Gaston Dutreuil exclaimed, in amazement: + +"But there's only one flat on the fifth floor and that's the one I live +in!" + +"Exactly; and, as you were at the cinema with Madame Aubrieux and her +mother, advantage was taken of your absence...." + +"Impossible! No one has the key except myself." + +"One can get in without a key." + +"But I have seen no marks of any kind." + +Morisseau intervened: + +"Come, let us understand one another. You say the bank-notes were hidden in +M. Dutreuil's flat?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, as Jacques Aubrieux was arrested the next morning, the notes ought +to be there still?" + +"That's my opinion." + +Gaston Dutreuil could not help laughing: + +"But that's absurd! I should have found them!" + +"Did you look for them?" + +"No. But I should have come across them at any moment. The place isn't big +enough to swing a cat in. Would you care to see it?" + +"However small it may be, it's large enough to hold sixty bits of paper." + +"Of course, everything is possible," said Dutreuil. "Still, I must repeat +that nobody, to my knowledge, has been to my rooms; that there is only one +key; that I am my own housekeeper; and that I can't quite understand...." + +Hortense too could not understand. With her eyes fixed on Prince Rénine's, +she was trying to read his innermost thoughts. What game was he playing? +Was it her duty to support his statements? She ended by saying: + +"Mr. Chief-inspector, since Prince Rénine maintains that the notes have +been put away upstairs, wouldn't the simplest thing be to go and look? M. +Dutreuil will take us up, won't you?" + +"This minute," said the young man. "As you say, that will be simplest." + +They all four climbed the five storys of the house and, after Dutreuil +had opened the door, entered a tiny set of chambers consisting of a +sitting-room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom, all arranged with fastidious +neatness. It was easy to see that every chair in the sitting-room occupied +a definite place. The pipes had a rack to themselves; so had the matches. +Three walking-sticks, arranged according to their length, hung from +three nails. On a little table before the window a hat-box, filled with +tissue-paper, awaited the felt hat which Dutreuil carefully placed in it. +He laid his gloves beside it, on the lid. + +He did all this with sedate and mechanical movements, like a man who loves +to see things in the places which he has chosen for them. Indeed, no sooner +did Rénine shift something than Dutreuil made a slight gesture of protest, +took out his hat again, stuck it on his head, opened the window and rested +his elbows on the sill, with his back turned to the room, as though he were +unable to bear the sight of such vandalism. + +"You're positive, are you not?" the inspector asked Rénine. + +"Yes, yes, I'm positive that the sixty notes were brought here after the +murder." + +"Let's look for them." + +This was easy and soon done. In half an hour, not a corner remained +unexplored, not a knick-knack unlifted. + +"Nothing," said Inspector Morisseau. "Shall we continue?" + +"No," replied Rénine, "The notes are no longer here." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that they have been removed." + +"By whom? Can't you make a more definite accusation?" + +Rénine did not reply. But Gaston Dutreuil wheeled round. He was choking +and spluttered: + +"Mr. Inspector, would you like _me_ to make the accusation more +definite, as conveyed by this gentleman's remarks? It all means that +there's a dishonest man here, that the notes hidden by the murderer were +discovered and stolen by that dishonest man and deposited in another and +safer place. That is your idea, sir, is it not? And you accuse me of +committing this theft don't you?" + +He came forward, drumming his chest with his fists: "Me! Me! I found the +notes, did I, and kept them for myself? You dare to suggest that!" + +Rénine still made no reply. Dutreuil flew into a rage and, taking Inspector +Morisseau aside, exclaimed: + +"Mr. Inspector, I strongly protest against all this farce and against +the part which you are unconsciously playing in it. Before your arrival, +Prince Rénine told this lady and myself that he knew nothing, that he was +venturing into this affair at random and that he was following the first +road that offered, trusting to luck. Do you deny it, sir?" + +Rénine did not open his lips. + +"Answer me, will you? Explain yourself; for, really, you are putting +forward the most improbable facts without any proof whatever. It's easy +enough to say that I stole the notes. And how were you to know that they +were here at all? Who brought them here? Why should the murderer choose +this flat to hide them in? It's all so stupid, so illogical and absurd!... +Give us your proofs, sir ... one single proof!" + +Inspector Morisseau seemed perplexed. He questioned Rénine with a glance. +Rénine said: + +"Since you want specific details, we will get them from Madame Aubrieux +herself. She's on the telephone. Let's go downstairs. We shall know all +about it in a minute." + +Dutreuil shrugged his shoulders: + +"As you please; but what a waste of time!" + +He seemed greatly irritated. His long wait at the window, under a blazing +sun, had thrown him into a sweat. He went to his bedroom and returned with +a bottle of water, of which he took a few sips, afterwards placing the +bottle on the window-sill: + +"Come along," he said. + +Prince Rénine chuckled. + +"You seem to be in a hurry to leave the place." + +"I'm in a hurry to show you up," retorted Dutreuil, slamming the door. + +They went downstairs to the private room containing the telephone. The room +was empty. Rénine asked Gaston Dutreuil for the Aubrieuxs' number, took +down the instrument and was put through. + +The maid who came to the telephone answered that Madame Aubrieux had +fainted, after giving way to an access of despair, and that she was now +asleep. + +"Fetch her mother, please. Prince Rénine speaking. It's urgent." + +He handed the second receiver to Morisseau. For that matter, the voices +were so distinct that Dutreuil and Hortense were able to hear every word +exchanged. + +"Is that you, madame?" + +"Yes. Prince Rénine, I believe?" + +"Prince Rénine." + +"Oh, sir, what news have you for me? Is there any hope?" asked the old +lady, in a tone of entreaty. + +"The enquiry is proceeding very satisfactorily," said Rénine, "and you +may hope for the best. For the moment, I want you to give me some very +important particulars. On the day of the murder, did Gaston Dutreuil come +to your house?" + +"Yes, he came to fetch my daughter and myself, after lunch." + +"Did he know at the time that M. Guillaume had sixty thousand francs at his +place?" + +"Yes, I told him." + +"And that Jacques Aubrieux was not feeling very well and was proposing not +to take his usual cycle-ride but to stay at home and sleep?" + +"Yes." + +"You are sure?" + +"Absolutely certain." + +"And you all three went to the cinema together?" + +"Yes." + +"And you were all sitting together?" + +"Oh, no! There was no room. He took a seat farther away." + +"A seat where you could see him?" + +"No." + +"But he came to you during the interval?" + +"No, we did not see him until we were going out." + +"There is no doubt of that?" + +"None at all." + +"Very well, madame. I will tell you the result of my efforts in an hour's +time. But above all, don't wake up Madame Aubrieux." + +"And suppose she wakes of her own accord?" + +"Reassure her and give her confidence. Everything is going well, very well +indeed." + +He hung up the receiver and turned to Dutreuil, laughing: + +"Ha, ha, my boy! Things are beginning to look clearer. What do you say?" + +It was difficult to tell what these words meant or what conclusions Rénine +had drawn from his conversation. The silence was painful and oppressive. + +"Mr. Chief-Inspector, you have some of your men outside, haven't you?" + +"Two detective-sergeants." + +"It's important that they should be there. Please also ask the manager not +to disturb us on any account." + +And, when Morisseau returned, Rénine closed the door, took his stand in +front of Dutreuil and, speaking in a good-humoured but emphatic tone, said: + +"It amounts to this, young man, that the ladies saw nothing of you between +three and five o'clock on that Sunday. That's rather a curious detail." + +"A perfectly natural detail," Dutreuil retorted, "and one, moreover, which +proves nothing at all." + +"It proves, young man, that you had a good two hours at your disposal." + +"Obviously. Two hours which I spent at the cinema." + +"Or somewhere else." + +Dutreuil looked at him: + +"Somewhere else?" + +"Yes. As you were free, you had plenty of time to go wherever you liked ... +to Suresnes, for instance." + +"Oh!" said the young man, jesting in his turn. "Suresnes is a long way +off!" + +"It's quite close! Hadn't you your friend Jacques Aubrieux's motor-cycle?" + +A fresh pause followed these words. Dutreuil had knitted his brows as +though he were trying to understand. At last he was heard to whisper: + +"So that is what he was trying to lead up to!... The brute!..." + +Rénine brought down his hand on Dutreuil's shoulder: + +"No more talk! Facts! Gaston Dutreuil, you are the only person who on that +day knew two essential things: first, that Cousin Guillaume had sixty +thousand francs in his house; secondly, that Jacques Aubrieux was not +going out. You at once saw your chance. The motor-cycle was available. You +slipped out during the performance. You went to Suresnes. You killed Cousin +Guillaume. You took the sixty bank-notes and left them at your rooms. And +at five o'clock you went back to fetch the ladies." + +Dutreuil had listened with an expression at once mocking and flurried, +casting an occasional glance at Inspector Morisseau as though to enlist +him as a witness: + +"The man's mad," it seemed to say. "It's no use being angry with him." + +When Rénine had finished, he began to laugh: + +"Very funny!... A capital joke!... So it was I whom the neighbours saw +going and returning on the motor-cycle?" + +"It was you disguised in Jacques Aubrieux's clothes." + +"And it was my finger-prints that were found on the bottle in M. +Guillaume's pantry?" + +"The bottle had been opened by Jacques Aubrieux at lunch, in his own house, +and it was you who took it with you to serve as evidence." + +"Funnier and funnier!" cried Dutreuil, who had the air of being frankly +amused. "Then I contrived the whole affair so that Jacques Aubrieux might +be accused of the crime?" + +"It was the safest means of not being accused yourself." + +"Yes, but Jacques is a friend whom I have known from childhood." + +"You're in love with his wife." + +The young man gave a sudden, infuriated start: + +"You dare!... What! You dare make such an infamous suggestion?" + +"I have proof of it." + +"That's a lie! I have always respected Madeleine Aubrieux and revered +her...." + +"Apparently. But you're in love with her. You desire her. Don't contradict +me. I have abundant proof of it." + +"That's a lie, I tell you! You have only known me a few hours!" + +"Come, come! I've been quietly watching you for days, waiting for the +moment to pounce upon you." + +He took the young man by the shoulders and shook him: + +"Come, Dutreuil, confess! I hold all the proofs in my hand. I have +witnesses whom we shall meet presently at the criminal investigation +department. Confess, can't you? In spite of everything, you're tortured +by remorse. Remember your dismay, at the restaurant, when you had seen +the newspaper. What? Jacques Aubrieux condemned to die? That's more than +you bargained for! Penal servitude would have suited your book; but the +scaffold!... Jacques Aubrieux executed to-morrow, an innocent man!... +Confess, won't you? Confess to save your own skin! Own up!" + +Bending over the other, he was trying with all his might to extort a +confession from him. But Dutreuil drew himself up and coldly, with a sort +of scorn in his voice, said: + +"Sir, you are a madman. Not a word that you have said has any sense in it. +All your accusations are false. What about the bank-notes? Did you find +them at my place as you said you would?" + +Rénine, exasperated, clenched his fist in his face: + +"Oh, you swine, I'll dish you yet, I swear I will!" + +He drew the inspector aside: + +"Well, what do you say to it? An arrant rogue, isn't he?" + +The inspector nodded his head: + +"It may be.... But, all the same ... so far there's no real evidence." + +"Wait, M. Morisseau," said Rénine. "Wait until we've had our interview with +M. Dudouis. For we shall see M. Dudouis at the prefecture, shall we not?" + +"Yes, he'll be there at three o'clock." + +"Well, you'll be convinced, Mr. Inspector! I tell you here and now that you +will be convinced." + +Rénine was chuckling like a man who feels certain of the course of events. +Hortense, who was standing near him and was able to speak to him without +being heard by the others, asked, in a low voice: + +"You've got him, haven't you?" + +He nodded his head in assent: + +"Got him? I should think I have! All the same, I'm no farther forward than +I was at the beginning." + +"But this is awful! And your proofs?" + +"Not the shadow of a proof ... I was hoping to trip him up. But he's kept +his feet, the rascal!" + +"Still, you're certain it's he?" + +"It can't be any one else. I had an intuition at the very outset; and I've +not taken my eyes off him since. I have seen his anxiety increasing as my +investigations seemed to centre on him and concern him more closely. Now I +know." + +"And he's in love with Madame Aubrieux?" + +"In logic, he's bound to be. But so far we have only hypothetical +suppositions, or rather certainties which are personal to myself. We shall +never intercept the guillotine with those. Ah, if we could only find the +bank-notes! Given the bank-notes, M. Dudouis would act. Without them, he +will laugh in my face." + +"What then?" murmured Hortense, in anguished accents. + +He did not reply. He walked up and down the room, assuming an air of gaiety +and rubbing his hands. All was going so well! It was really a treat to take +up a case which, so to speak, worked itself out automatically. + +"Suppose we went on to the prefecture, M. Morisseau? The chief must be +there by now. And, having gone so far, we may as well finish. Will M. +Dutreuil come with us?" + +"Why not?" said Dutreuil, arrogantly. + +But, just as Rénine was opening the door, there was a noise in the passage +and the manager ran up, waving his arms: + +"Is M. Dutreuil still here?... M. Dutreuil, your flat is on fire!... A man +outside told us. He saw it from the square." + +The young man's eyes lit up. For perhaps half a second his mouth was +twisted by a smile which Rénine noticed: + +"Oh, you ruffian!" he cried. "You've given yourself away, my beauty! It was +you who set fire to the place upstairs; and now the notes are burning." + +He blocked his exit. + +"Let me pass," shouted Dutreuil. "There's a fire and no one can get in, +because no one else has a key. Here it is. Let me pass, damn it!" + +Rénine snatched the key from his hand and, holding him by the collar of his +coat: + +"Don't you move, my fine fellow! The game's up! You precious blackguard! M. +Morisseau, will you give orders to the sergeant not to let him out of his +sight and to blow out his brains if he tries to get away? Sergeant, we rely +on you! Put a bullet into him, if necessary!..." + +He hurried up the stairs, followed by Hortense and the chief inspector, who +was protesting rather peevishly: + +"But, I say, look here, it wasn't he who set the place on fire! How do you +make out that he set it on fire, seeing that he never left us?" + +"Why, he set it on fire beforehand, to be sure!" + +"How? I ask you, how?" + +"How do I know? But a fire doesn't break out like that, for no reason at +all, at the very moment when a man wants to burn compromising papers." + +They heard a commotion upstairs. It was the waiters of the restaurant +trying to burst the door open. An acrid smell filled the well of the +stair-case. + +Rénine reached the top floor: + +"By your leave, friends. I have the key." + +He inserted it in the lock and opened the door. + +He was met by a gust of smoke so dense that one might well have supposed +the whole floor to be ablaze. Rénine at once saw that the fire had gone out +of its own accord, for lack of fuel, and that there were no more flames: + +"M. Morisseau, you won't let any one come in with us, will you? An intruder +might spoil everything. Bolt the door, that will be best." + +He stepped into the front room, where the fire had obviously had its chief +centre. The furniture, the walls and the ceiling, though blackened by the +smoke, had not been touched. As a matter of fact, the fire was confined to +a blaze of papers which was still burning in the middle of the room, in +front of the window. + +Rénine struck his forehead: + +"What a fool I am! What an unspeakable ass!" + +"Why?" asked the inspector. + +"The hat-box, of course! The cardboard hat-box which was standing on the +table. That's where he hid the notes. They were there all through our +search." + +"Impossible!" + +"Why, yes, we always overlook that particular hiding-place, the one just +under our eyes, within reach of our hands! How could one imagine that a +thief would leave sixty thousand francs in an open cardboard box, in which +he places his hat when he comes in, with an absent-minded air? That's just +the one place we don't look in.... Well played, M. Dutreuil!" + +The inspector, who remained incredulous, repeated: + +"No, no, impossible! We were with him and he could not have started the +fire himself." + +"Everything was prepared beforehand on the supposition that there might be +an alarm.... The hat-box ... the tissue paper ... the bank-notes: they must +all have been steeped in some inflammable liquid. He must have thrown a +match, a chemical preparation or what not into it, as we were leaving." + +"But we should have seen him, hang it all! And then is it credible that +a man who has committed a murder for the sake of sixty thousand francs +should do away with the money in this way? If the hiding-place was such +a good one--and it was, because we never discovered it--why this useless +destruction?" + +"He got frightened, M. Morisseau. Remember that his head is at stake +and he knows it. Anything rather than the guillotine; and they--the +bank-notes--were the only proof which we had against him. How could he +have left them where they were?" + +Morisseau was flabbergasted: + +"What! The only proof?" + +"Why, obviously!" + +"But your witnesses? Your evidence? All that you were going to tell the +chief?" + +"Mere bluff." + +"Well, upon my word," growled the bewildered inspector, "you're a cool +customer!" + +"Would you have taken action without my bluff?" + +"No." + +"Then what more do you want?" + +Rénine stooped to stir the ashes. But there was nothing left, not even +those remnants of stiff paper which still retain their shape. + +"Nothing," he said. "It's queer, all the same! How the deuce did he manage +to set the thing alight?" + +He stood up, looking attentively about him. Hortense had a feeling that he +was making his supreme effort and that, after this last struggle in the +dark, he would either have devised his plan of victory or admit that he was +beaten. + +Faltering with anxiety, she asked: + +"It's all up, isn't it?" + +"No, no," he said, thoughtfully, "it's not all up. It was, a few seconds +ago. But now there is a gleam of light ... and one that gives me hope." + +"God grant that it may be justified!" + +"We must go slowly," he said. "It is only an attempt, but a fine, a very +fine attempt; and it may succeed." + +He was silent for a moment; then, with an amused smile and a click of the +tongue, he said: + +"An infernally clever fellow, that Dutreuil! His trick of burning the +notes: what a fertile imagination! And what coolness! A pretty dance the +beggar has led me! He's a master!" + +He fetched a broom from the kitchen and swept a part of the ashes into the +next room, returning with a hat-box of the same size and appearance as the +one which had been burnt. After crumpling the tissue paper with which it +was filled, he placed the hat-box on the little table and set fire to it +with a match. + +It burst into flames, which he extinguished when they had consumed half +the cardboard and nearly all the paper. Then he took from an inner pocket +of his waistcoat a bundle of bank-notes and selected six, which he burnt +almost completely, arranging the remains and hiding the rest of the notes +at the bottom of the box, among the ashes and the blackened bits of paper: + +"M. Morisseau," he said, when he had done, "I am asking for your assistance +for the last time. Go and fetch Dutreuil. Tell him just this: 'You are +unmasked. The notes did not catch fire. Come with me.' And bring him up +here." + +Despite his hesitation and his fear of exceeding his instructions from the +head of the detective service, the chief-inspector was powerless to throw +off the ascendancy which Rénine had acquired over him. He left the room. + +Rénine turned to Hortense: + +"Do you understand my plan of battle?" + +"Yes," she said, "but it's a dangerous experiment. Do you think that +Dutreuil will fall into the trap?" + +"Everything depends on the state of his nerves and the degree of +demoralization to which he is reduced. A surprise attack may very well do +for him." + +"Nevertheless, suppose he recognizes by some sign that the box has been +changed?" + +"Oh, of course, he has a few chances in his favour! The fellow is much more +cunning than I thought and quite capable of wriggling out of the trap. +On the other hand, however, how uneasy he must be! How the blood must be +buzzing in his ears and obscuring his sight! No, I don't think that he will +avoid the trap.... He will give in.... He will give in...." + +They exchanged no more words. Rénine did not move. Hortense was stirred to +the very depths of her being. The life of an innocent man hung trembling in +the balance. An error of judgment, a little bad luck ... and, twelve hours +later, Jacques Aubrieux would be put to death. And together with a horrible +anguish she experienced, in spite of all, a feeling of eager curiosity. +What was Prince Rénine going to do? What would be the outcome of the +experiment on which he was venturing? What resistance would Gaston Dutreuil +offer? She lived through one of those minutes of superhuman tension in +which life becomes intensified until it reaches its utmost value. + +They heard footsteps on the stairs, the footsteps of men in a hurry. The +sound drew nearer. They were reaching the top floor. + +Hortense looked at her companion. He had stood up and was listening, his +features already transfigured by action. The footsteps were now echoing in +the passage. Then, suddenly, he ran to the door and cried: + +"Quick! Let's make an end of it!" + +Two or three detectives and a couple of waiters entered. He caught hold of +Dutreuil in the midst of the detectives and pulled him by the arm, gaily +exclaiming: + +"Well done, old man! That trick of yours with the table and the +water-bottle was really splendid! A masterpiece, on my word! Only, it +didn't come off!" + +"What do you mean? What's the matter?" mumbled Gaston Dutreuil, staggering. + +"What I say: the fire burnt only half the tissue-paper and the hat-box; +and, though some of the bank-notes were destroyed, like the tissue-paper, +the others are there, at the bottom.... You understand? The long-sought +notes, the great proof of the murder: they're there, where you hid them.... +As chance would have it, they've escaped burning.... Here, look: there +are the numbers; you can check them.... Oh, you're done for, done for, my +beauty!" + +The young man drew himself up stiffly. His eyelids quivered. He did not +accept Rénine's invitation to look; he examined neither the hat-box nor +the bank-notes. From the first moment, without taking the time to reflect +and before his instinct could warn him, he believed what he was told and +collapsed heavily into a chair, weeping. + +The surprise attack, to use Rénine's expression, had succeeded. On seeing +all his plans baffled and the enemy master of his secrets, the wretched man +had neither the strength nor the perspicacity necessary to defend himself. +He threw up the sponge. + +Rénine gave him no time to breathe: + +"Capital! You're saving your head; and that's all, my good youth! Write +down your confession and get it off your chest. Here's a fountain-pen.... +The luck has been against you, I admit. It was devilishly well thought +out, your trick of the last moment. You had the bank-notes which were in +your way and which you wanted to destroy. Nothing simpler. You take a big, +round-bellied water-bottle and stand it on the window-sill. It acts as +a burning-glass, concentrating the rays of the sun on the cardboard and +tissue-paper, all nicely prepared. Ten minutes later, it bursts into +flames. A splendid idea! And, like all great discoveries, it came quite +by chance, what? It reminds one of Newton's apple.... One day, the sun, +passing through the water in that bottle, must have set fire to a scrap of +cotton or the head of a match; and, as you had the sun at your disposal +just now, you said to yourself, 'Now's the time,' and stood the bottle in +the right position. My congratulations, Gaston!... Look, here's a sheet of +paper. Write down: 'It was I who murdered M. Guillaume.' Write, I tell +you!" + +Leaning over the young man, with all his implacable force of will he +compelled him to write, guiding his hand and dictating the sentences. +Dutreuil, exhausted, at the end of his strength, wrote as he was told. + +"Here's the confession, Mr. Chief-inspector," said Rénine. "You will be +good enough to take it to M. Dudouis. These gentlemen," turning to the +waiters, from the restaurant, "will, I am sure, consent to serve as +witnesses." + +And, seeing that Dutreuil, overwhelmed by what had happened, did not move, +he gave him a shake: + +"Hi, you, look alive! Now that you've been fool enough to confess, make an +end of the job, my gentle idiot!" + +The other watched him, standing in front of him. + +"Obviously," Rénine continued, "you're only a simpleton. The hat-box was +fairly burnt to ashes: so were the notes. That hat-box, my dear fellow, is +a different one; and those notes belong to me. I even burnt six of them to +make you swallow the stunt. And you couldn't make out what had happened. +What an owl you must be! To furnish me with evidence at the last moment, +when I hadn't a single proof of my own! And such evidence! A written +confession! Written before witnesses!... Look here, my man, if they do cut +off your head--as I sincerely hope they will--upon my word, you'll have +jolly well deserved it! Good-bye, Dutreuil!" + + * * * * * + +Downstairs, in the street, Rénine asked Hortense Daniel to take the car, go +to Madeleine Aubrieux and tell her what had happened. + +"And you?" asked Hortense. + +"I have a lot to do ... urgent appointments...." + +"And you deny yourself the pleasure of bringing the good news?" + +"It's one of the pleasures that pall upon one. The only pleasure that never +flags is that of the fight itself. Afterwards, things cease to be +interesting." + +She took his hand and for a moment held it in both her own. She would have +liked to express all her admiration to that strange man, who seemed to +do good as a sort of game and who did it with something like genius. But +she was unable to speak. All these rapid incidents had upset her. Emotion +constricted her throat and brought the tears to her eyes. + +Rénine bowed his head, saying: + +"Thank you. I have my reward." + + + + +III + +THE CASE OF JEAN LOUIS + + +"Monsieur," continued the young girl, addressing Serge Rénine, "it was +while I was spending the Easter holidays at Nice with my father that I made +the acquaintance of Jean Louis d'Imbleval...." + +Rénine interrupted her: + +"Excuse me, mademoiselle, but just now you spoke of this young man as Jean +Louis Vaurois." + +"That's his name also," she said. + +"Has he two names then?" + +"I don't know ... I don't know anything about it," she said, with some +embarrassment, "and that is why, by Hortense's advice, I came to ask for +your help." + +This conversation was taking place in Rénine's flat on the Boulevard +Haussmann, to which Hortense had brought her friend Geneviève Aymard, a +slender, pretty little creature with a face over-shadowed by an expression +of the greatest melancholy. + +"Rénine will be successful, take my word for it, Geneviève. You will, +Rénine, won't you?" + +"Please tell me the rest of the story, mademoiselle," he said. + +Geneviève continued: + +"I was already engaged at the time to a man whom I loathe and detest. My +father was trying to force me to marry him and is still trying to do so. +Jean Louis and I felt the keenest sympathy for each other, a sympathy that +soon developed into a profound and passionate affection which, I can assure +you, was equally sincere on both sides. On my return to Paris, Jean Louis, +who lives in the country with his mother and his aunt, took rooms in our +part of the town; and, as I am allowed to go out by myself, we used to see +each other daily. I need not tell you that we were engaged to be married. I +told my father so. And this is what he said: 'I don't particularly like the +fellow. But, whether it's he or another, what I want is that you should get +married. So let him come and ask for your hand. If not, you must do as I +say.' In the middle of June, Jean Louis went home to arrange matters with +his mother and aunt. I received some passionate letters; and then just +these few words: + + 'There are too many obstacles in the way of our happiness. I give up. + I am mad with despair. I love you more than ever. Good-bye and forgive + me.' + +"Since then, I have received nothing: no reply to my letters and +telegrams." + +"Perhaps he has fallen in love with somebody else?" asked Rénine. "Or there +may be some old connection which he is unable to shake off." + +Geneviève shook her head: + +"Monsieur, believe me, if our engagement had been broken off for an +ordinary reason, I should not have allowed Hortense to trouble you. But it +is something quite different, I am absolutely convinced. There's a mystery +in Jean Louis' life, or rather an endless number of mysteries which hamper +and pursue him. I never saw such distress in a human face; and, from +the first moment of our meeting, I was conscious in him of a grief and +melancholy which have always persisted, even at times when he was giving +himself to our love with the greatest confidence." + +"But your impression must have been confirmed by minor details, by things +which happened to strike you as peculiar?" + +"I don't quite know what to say." + +"These two names, for instance?" + +"Yes, there was certainly that." + +"By what name did he introduce himself to you?" + +"Jean Louis d'Imbleval." + +"But Jean Louis Vaurois?" + +"That's what my father calls him." + +"Why?" + +"Because that was how he was introduced to my father, at Nice, by a +gentleman who knew him. Besides, he carries visiting-cards which describe +him under either name." + +"Have you never questioned him on this point?" + +"Yes, I have, twice. The first time, he said that his aunt's name was +Vaurois and his mother's d'Imbleval." + +"And the second time?" + +"He told me the contrary: he spoke of his mother as Vaurois and of his aunt +as d'Imbleval. I pointed this out. He coloured up and I thought it better +not to question him any further." + +"Does he live far from Paris?" + +"Right down in Brittany: at the Manoir d'Elseven, five miles from Carhaix." + +Rénine rose and asked the girl, seriously: + +"Are you quite certain that he loves you, mademoiselle?" + +"I am certain of it and I know too that he represents all my life and all +my happiness. He alone can save me. If he can't, then I shall be married +in a week's time to a man whom I hate. I have promised my father; and the +banns have been published." + +"We shall leave for Carhaix, Madame Daniel and I, this evening," said +Rénine. + +That evening he and Hortense took the train for Brittany. They reached +Carhaix at ten o'clock in the morning; and, after lunch, at half past +twelve o'clock they stepped into a car borrowed from a leading resident of +the district. + +"You're looking a little pale, my dear," said Rénine, with a laugh, as they +alighted by the gate of the garden at Elseven. + +"I'm very fond of Geneviève," she said. "She's the only friend I have. And +I'm feeling frightened." + +He called her attention to the fact that the central gate was flanked by +two wickets bearing the names of Madame d'Imbleval and Madame Vaurois +respectively. Each of these wickets opened on a narrow path which ran among +the shrubberies of box and aucuba to the left and right of the main avenue. +The avenue itself led to an old manor-house, long, low and picturesque, but +provided with two clumsily-built, ugly wings, each in a different style of +architecture and each forming the destination of one of the side-paths. +Madame d'Imbleval evidently lived on the left and Madame Vaurois on the +right. + +Hortense and Rénine listened. Shrill, hasty voices were disputing inside +the house. The sound came through one of the windows of the ground-floor, +which was level with the garden and covered throughout its length with red +creepers and white roses. + +"We can't go any farther," said Hortense. "It would be indiscreet." + +"All the more reason," whispered Rénine. "Look here: if we walk straight +ahead, we shan't be seen by the people who are quarrelling." + +The sounds of conflict were by no means abating; and, when they reached the +window next to the front-door, through the roses and creepers they could +both see and hear two old ladies shrieking at the tops of their voices and +shaking their fists at each other. + +The women were standing in the foreground, in a large dining-room where +the table was not yet cleared; and at the farther side of the table sat a +young man, doubtless Jean Louis himself, smoking his pipe and reading a +newspaper, without appearing to trouble about the two old harridans. + +One of these, a thin, tall woman, was wearing a purple silk dress; and her +hair was dressed in a mass of curls much too yellow for the ravaged face +around which they tumbled. The other, who was still thinner, but quite +short, was bustling round the room in a cotton dressing-gown and displayed +a red, painted face blazing with anger: + +"A baggage, that's what you are!" she yelped. "The wickedest woman in the +world and a thief into the bargain!" + +"I, a thief!" screamed the other. + +"What about that business with the ducks at ten francs apiece: don't you +call that thieving?" + +"Hold your tongue, you low creature! Who stole the fifty-franc note from my +dressing-table? Lord, that I should have to live with such a wretch!" + +The other started with fury at the outrage and, addressing the young man, +cried: + +"Jean, are you going to sit there and let me be insulted by your hussy of a +d'Imbleval?" + +And the tall one retorted, furiously: + +"Hussy! Do you hear that, Louis? Look at her, your Vaurois! She's got the +airs of a superannuated barmaid! Make her stop, can't you?" + +Suddenly Jean Louis banged his fist upon the table, making the plates and +dishes jump, and shouted: + +"Be quiet, both of you, you old lunatics!" + +They turned upon him at once and loaded him with abuse: + +"Coward!... Hypocrite!... Liar!... A pretty sort of son you are!... The son +of a slut and not much better yourself!..." + +The insults rained down upon him. He stopped his ears with his fingers and +writhed as he sat at table like a man who has lost all patience and has +need to restrain himself lest he should fall upon his enemy. + +Rénine whispered: + +"Now's the time to go in." + +"In among all those infuriated people?" protested Hortense. + +"Exactly. We shall see them better with their masks off." + +And, with a determined step, he walked to the door, opened it and entered +the room, followed by Hortense. + +His advent gave rise to a feeling of stupefaction. The two women stopped +yelling, but were still scarlet in the face and trembling with rage. Jean +Louis, who was very pale, stood up. + +Profiting by the general confusion, Rénine said briskly: + +"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Rénine. This is Madame Daniel. +We are friends of Mlle. Geneviève Aymard and we have come in her name. I +have a letter from her addressed to you, monsieur." + +Jean Louis, already disconcerted by the newcomers' arrival, lost +countenance entirely on hearing the name of Geneviève. Without quite +knowing what he was saying and with the intention of responding to Rénine's +courteous behaviour, he tried in his turn to introduce the two ladies and +let fall the astounding words: + +"My mother, Madame d'Imbleval; my mother, Madame Vaurois." + +For some time no one spoke. Rénine bowed. Hortense did not know with whom +she should shake hands, with Madame d'Imbleval, the mother, or with Madame +Vaurois, the mother. But what happened was that Madame d'Imbleval and +Madame Vaurois both at the same time attempted to snatch the letter which +Rénine was holding out to Jean Louis, while both at the same time mumbled: + +"Mlle. Aymard!... She has had the coolness ... she has had the +audacity...!" + +Then Jean Louis, recovering his self-possession, laid hold of his mother +d'Imbleval and pushed her out of the room by a door on the left and next of +his mother Vaurois and pushed her out of the room by a door on the right. +Then, returning to his two visitors, he opened the envelope and read, in an +undertone: + + "I am to be married in a week, Jean Louis. Come to my rescue, I beseech + you. My friend Hortense and Prince Rénine will help you to overcome the + obstacles that baffle you. Trust them. I love you. + + "GENEVIÈVE." + +He was a rather dull-looking young man, whose very swarthy, lean and bony +face certainly bore the expression of melancholy and distress described by +Geneviève. Indeed, the marks of suffering were visible in all his harassed +features, as well as in his sad and anxious eyes. + +He repeated Geneviève's name over and over again, while looking about him +with a distracted air. He seemed to be seeking a course of conduct. + +He seemed on the point of offering an explanation but could find nothing +to say. The sudden intervention had taken him at a disadvantage, like an +unforseen attack which he did not know how to meet. + +Rénine felt that the adversary would capitulate at the first summons. The +man had been fighting so desperately during the last few months and had +suffered so severely in the retirement and obstinate silence in which he +had taken refuge that he was not thinking of defending himself. Moreover, +how could he do so, now that they had forced their way into the privacy of +his odious existence? + +"Take my word for it, monsieur," declared Rénine, "that it is in your best +interests to confide in us. We are Geneviève Aymard's friends. Do not +hesitate to speak." + +"I can hardly hesitate," he said, "after what you have just heard. This is +the life I lead, monsieur. I will tell you the whole secret, so that you +may tell it to Geneviève. She will then understand why I have not gone back +to her ... and why I have not the right to do so." + +He pushed a chair forward for Hortense. The two men sat down, and, without +any need of further persuasion, rather as though he himself felt a certain +relief in unburdening himself, he said: + +"You must not be surprised, monsieur, if I tell my story with a certain +flippancy, for, as a matter of fact, it is a frankly comical story and +cannot fail to make you laugh. Fate often amuses itself by playing these +imbecile tricks, these monstrous farces which seem as though they must have +been invented by the brain of a madman or a drunkard. Judge for yourself. +Twenty-seven years ago, the Manoir d'Elseven, which at that time consisted +only of the main building, was occupied by an old doctor who, to increase +his modest means, used to receive one or two paying guests. In this way, +Madame d'Imbleval spent the summer here one year and Madame Vaurois the +following summer. Now these two ladies did not know each other. One of them +was married to a Breton of a merchant-vessel and the other to a commercial +traveller from the Vendée. + +"It so happened that they lost their husbands at the same time, at a period +when each of them was expecting a baby. And, as they both lived in the +country, at places some distance from any town, they wrote to the old +doctor that they intended to come to his house for their confinement.... +He agreed. They arrived almost on the same day, in the autumn. Two small +bedrooms were prepared for them, behind the room in which we are sitting. +The doctor had engaged a nurse, who slept in this very room. Everything +was perfectly satisfactory. The ladies were putting the finishing touches +to their baby-clothes and were getting on together splendidly. They were +determined that their children should be boys and had chosen the names of +Jean and Louis respectively.... One evening the doctor was called out to a +case and drove off in his gig with the man-servant, saying that he would +not be back till next day. In her master's absence, a little girl who +served as maid-of-all-work ran out to keep company with her sweetheart. +These accidents destiny turned to account with diabolical malignity. At +about midnight, Madame d'Imbleval was seized with the first pains. The +nurse, Mlle. Boussignol, had had some training as a midwife and did not +lose her head. But, an hour later, Madame Vaurois' turn came; and the +tragedy, or I might rather say the tragi-comedy, was enacted amid the +screams and moans of the two patients and the bewildered agitation of the +nurse running from one to the other, bewailing her fate, opening the window +to call out for the doctor or falling on her knees to implore the aid of +Providence.... Madame Vaurois was the first to bring a son into the world. +Mlle. Boussignol hurriedly carried him in here, washed and tended him and +laid him in the cradle prepared for him.... But Madame d'Imbleval was +screaming with pain; and the nurse had to attend to her while the newborn +child was yelling like a stuck pig and the terrified mother, unable to stir +from her bed, fainted.... Add to this all the wretchedness of darkness and +disorder, the only lamp, without any oil, for the servant had neglected to +fill it, the candles burning out, the moaning of the wind, the screeching +of the owls, and you will understand that Mlle. Boussignol was scared +out of her wits. However, at five o'clock in the morning, after many +tragic incidents, she came in here with the d'Imbleval baby, likewise a +boy, washed and tended him, laid him in his cradle and went off to help +Madame Vaurois, who had come to herself and was crying out, while Madame +d'Imbleval had fainted in her turn. And, when Mlle. Boussignol, having +settled the two mothers, but half-crazed with fatigue, her brain in a +whirl, returned to the new-born children, she realized with horror that she +had wrapped them in similar binders, thrust their feet into similar woolen +socks and laid them both, side by side, _in the same cradle_, so that +it was impossible to tell Louis d'Imbleval from Jean Vaurois!... To make +matters worse, when she lifted one of them out of the cradle, she found +that his hands were cold as ice and that he had ceased to breathe. He was +dead. What was his name and what the survivor's?... Three hours later, the +doctor found the two women in a condition of frenzied delirium, while the +nurse was dragging herself from one bed to the other, entreating the two +mothers to forgive her. She held me out first to one, then to the other, +to receive their caresses--for I was the surviving child--and they first +kissed me and then pushed me away; for, after all, who was I? The son of +the widowed Madame d'Imbleval and the late merchant-captain or the son of +the widowed Madame Vaurois and the late commercial traveller? There was +not a clue by which they could tell.... The doctor begged each of the two +mothers to sacrifice her rights, at least from the legal point of view, +so that I might be called either Louis d'Imbleval or Jean Vaurois. They +refused absolutely. 'Why Jean Vaurois, if he's a d'Imbleval?' protested the +one. 'Why Louis d'Imbleval, if he's a Vaurois?' retorted the other. And I +was registered under the name of Jean Louis, the son of an unknown father +and mother." + +Prince Rénine had listened in silence. But Hortense, as the story +approached its conclusion, had given way to a hilarity which she could no +longer restrain and suddenly, in spite of all her efforts, she burst into +a fit of the wildest laughter: + +"Forgive me," she said, her eyes filled with tears, "do forgive me; it's +too much for my nerves...." + +"Don't apologize, madame," said the young man, gently, in a voice free +from resentment. "I warned you that my story was laughable; I, better than +any one, know how absurd, how nonsensical it is. Yes, the whole thing is +perfectly grotesque. But believe me when I tell you that it was no fun in +reality. It seems a humorous situation and it remains humorous by the force +of circumstances; but it is also horrible. You can see that for yourself, +can't you? The two mothers, neither of whom was certain of being a mother, +but neither of whom was certain that she was not one, both clung to Jean +Louis. He might be a stranger; on the other hand, he might be their own +flesh and blood. They loved him to excess and fought for him furiously. +And, above all, they both came to hate each other with a deadly hatred. +Differing completely in character and education and obliged to live +together because neither was willing to forego the advantage of her +possible maternity, they lived the life of irreconcilable enemies who can +never lay their weapons aside.... I grew up in the midst of this hatred and +had it instilled into me by both of them. When my childish heart, hungering +for affection, inclined me to one of them, the other would seek to inspire +me with loathing and contempt for her. In this manor-house, which they +bought on the old doctor's death and to which they added the two wings, I +was the involuntary torturer and their daily victim. Tormented as a child, +and, as a young man, leading the most hideous of lives, I doubt if any one +on earth ever suffered more than I did." + +"You ought to have left them!" exclaimed Hortense, who had stopped +laughing. + +"One can't leave one's mother; and one of those two women was my mother. +And a woman can't abandon her son; and each of them was entitled to believe +that I was her son. We were all three chained together like convicts, with +chains of sorrow, compassion, doubt and also of hope that the truth might +one day become apparent. And here we still are, all three, insulting one +another and blaming one another for our wasted lives. Oh, what a hell! And +there was no escaping it. I tried often enough ... but in vain. The broken +bonds became tied again. Only this summer, under the stimulus of my love +for Geneviève, I tried to free myself and did my utmost to persuade the two +women whom I call mother. And then ... and then! I was up against their +complaints, their immediate hatred of the wife, of the stranger, whom I +was proposing to force upon them.... I gave way. What sort of a life would +Geneviève have had here, between Madame d'Imbleval and Madame Vaurois? I +had no right to victimize her." + +Jean Louis, who had been gradually becoming excited, uttered these last +words in a firm voice, as though he would have wished his conduct to +be ascribed to conscientious motives and a sense of duty. In reality, +as Rénine and Hortense clearly saw, his was an unusually weak nature, +incapable of reacting against a ridiculous position from which he had +suffered ever since he was a child and which he had come to look upon as +final and irremediable. He endured it as a man bears a cross which he has +no right to cast aside; and at the same time he was ashamed of it. He had +never spoken of it to Geneviève, from dread of ridicule; and afterwards, on +returning to his prison, he had remained there out of habit and weakness. + +He sat down to a writing-table and quickly wrote a letter which he handed +to Rénine: + +"Would you be kind enough to give this note to Mlle. Aymard and beg her +once more to forgive me?" + +Rénine did not move and, when the other pressed the letter upon him, he +took it and tore it up. + +"What does this mean?" asked the young man. + +"It means that I will not charge myself with any message." + +"Why?" + +"Because you are coming with us." + +"I?" + +"Yes. You will see Mlle. Aymard to-morrow and ask for her hand in +marriage." + +Jean Louis looked at Rénine with a rather disdainful air, as though he were +thinking: + +"Here's a man who has not understood a word of what I've been explaining to +him." + +But Hortense went up to Rénine: + +"Why do you say that?" + +"Because it will be as I say." + +"But you must have your reasons?" + +"One only; but it will be enough, provided this gentleman is so kind as to +help me in my enquiries." + +"Enquiries? With what object?" asked the young man. + +"With the object of proving that your story is not quite accurate." + +Jean Louis took umbrage at this: + +"I must ask you to believe, monsieur, that I have not said a word which is +not the exact truth." + +"I expressed myself badly," said Rénine, with great kindliness. "Certainly +you have not said a word that does not agree with what you believe to be +the exact truth. But the truth is not, cannot be what you believe it to +be." + +The young man folded his arms: + +"In any case, monsieur, it seems likely that I should know the truth better +than you do." + +"Why better? What happened on that tragic night can obviously be known to +you only at secondhand. You have no proofs. Neither have Madame d'Imbleval +and Madame Vaurois." + +"No proofs of what?" exclaimed Jean Louis, losing patience. + +"No proofs of the confusion that took place." + +"What! Why, it's an absolute certainty! The two children were laid in the +same cradle, with no marks to distinguish one from the other; and the nurse +was unable to tell...." + +"At least, that's her version of it," interrupted Rénine. + +"What's that? Her version? But you're accusing the woman." + +"I'm accusing her of nothing." + +"Yes, you are: you're accusing her of lying. And why should she lie? She +had no interest in doing so; and her tears and despair are so much evidence +of her good faith. For, after all, the two mothers were there ... they saw +the woman weeping ... they questioned her.... And then, I repeat, what +interest had she ...?" + +Jean Louis was greatly excited. Close beside him, Madame d'Imbleval and +Madame Vaurois, who had no doubt been listening behind the doors and who +had stealthily entered the room, stood stammering, in amazement: + +"No, no ... it's impossible.... We've questioned her over and over again. +Why should she tell a lie?..." + +"Speak, monsieur, speak," Jean Louis enjoined. "Explain yourself. Give your +reasons for trying to cast doubt upon an absolute truth!" + +"Because that truth is inadmissible," declared Rénine, raising his voice +and growing excited in turn to the point of punctuating his remarks by +thumping the table. "No, things don't happen like that. No, fate does not +display those refinements of cruelty and chance is not added to chance with +such reckless extravagance! It was already an unprecedented chance that, on +the very night on which the doctor, his man-servant and his maid were out +of the house, the two ladies should be seized with labour-pains at the same +hour and should bring two sons into the world at the same time. Don't let +us add a still more exceptional event! Enough of the uncanny! Enough of +lamps that go out and candles that refuse to burn! No and again no, it +is not admissable that a midwife should become confused in the essential +details of her trade. However bewildered she may be by the unforeseen +nature of the circumstances, a remnant of instinct is still on the alert, +so that there is a place prepared for each child and each is kept distinct +from the other. The first child is here, the second is there. Even if they +are lying side by side, one is on the left and the other on the right. +Even if they are wrapped in the same kind of binders, some little detail +differs, a trifle which is recorded by the memory and which is inevitably +recalled to the mind without any need of reflection. Confusion? I refuse +to believe in it. Impossible to tell one from the other? It isn't true. In +the world of fiction, yes, one can imagine all sorts of fantastic accidents +and heap contradiction on contradiction. But, in the world of reality, at +the very heart of reality, there is always a fixed point, a solid nucleus, +about which the facts group themselves in accordance with a logical order. +I therefore declare most positively that Nurse Boussignol could not have +mixed up the two children." + +All this he said decisively, as though he had been present during the night +in question; and so great was his power of persuasion that from the very +first he shook the certainty of those who for more than a quarter of a +century had never doubted. + +The two women and their son pressed round him and questioned him with +breathless anxiety: + +"Then you think that she may know ... that she may be able to tell us....?" + +He corrected himself: + +"I don't say yes and I don't say no. All I say is that there was something +in her behaviour during those hours that does not tally with her statements +and with reality. All the vast and intolerable mystery that has weighed +down upon you three arises not from a momentary lack of attention but from +something of which we do not know, but of which she does. That is what I +maintain; and that is what happened." + +Jean Louis said, in a husky voice: + +"She is alive.... She lives at Carhaix.... We can send for her...." + +Hortense at once proposed: + +"Would you like me to go for her? I will take the motor and bring her back +with me. Where does she live?" + +"In the middle of the town, at a little draper's shop. The chauffeur will +show you. Mlle. Boussignol: everybody knows her...." + +"And, whatever you do," added Rénine, "don't warn her in any way. If she's +uneasy, so much the better. But don't let her know what we want with her." + +Twenty minutes passed in absolute silence. Rénine paced the room, in which +the fine old furniture, the handsome tapestries, the well-bound books and +pretty knick-knacks denoted a love of art and a seeking after style in Jean +Louis. This room was really his. In the adjoining apartments on either +side, through the open doors, Rénine was able to note the bad taste of the +two mothers. + +He went up to Jean Louis and, in a low voice, asked: + +"Are they well off?" + +"Yes." + +"And you?" + +"They settled the manor-house upon me, with all the land around it, which +makes me quite independent." + +"Have they any relations?" + +"Sisters, both of them." + +"With whom they could go to live?" + +"Yes; and they have sometimes thought of doing so. But there can't be any +question of that. Once more, I assure you...." + +Meantime the car had returned. The two women jumped up hurriedly, ready to +speak. + +"Leave it to me," said Rénine, "and don't be surprised by anything that I +say. It's not a matter of asking her questions but of frightening her, of +flurrying her.... The sudden attack," he added between his teeth. + +The car drove round the lawn and drew up outside the windows. Hortense +sprang out and helped an old woman to alight, dressed in a fluted linen +cap, a black velvet bodice and a heavy gathered skirt. + +The old woman entered in a great state of alarm. She had a pointed face, +like a weasel's, with a prominent mouth full of protruding teeth. + +"What's the matter, Madame d'Imbleval?" she asked, timidly stepping into +the room from which the doctor had once driven her. "Good day to you, +Madame Vaurois." + +The ladies did not reply. Rénine came forward and said, sternly: + +"Mlle. Boussignol, I have been sent by the Paris police to throw light +upon a tragedy which took place here twenty-seven years ago. I have just +secured evidence that you have distorted the truth and that, as the result +of your false declarations, the birth-certificate of one of the children +born in the course of that night is inaccurate. Now false declarations in +matters of birth-certificates are misdemeanours punishable by law. I shall +therefore be obliged to take you to Paris to be interrogated ... unless +you are prepared here and now to confess everything that might repair the +consequences of your offence." + +The old maid was shaking in every limb. Her teeth were chattering. She was +evidently incapable of opposing the least resistance to Rénine. + +"Are you ready to confess everything?" he asked. + +"Yes," she panted. + +"Without delay? I have to catch a train. The business must be settled +immediately. If you show the least hesitation, I take you with me. Have +you made up your mind to speak?" + +"Yes." + +He pointed to Jean Louis: + +"Whose son is this gentleman? Madame d'Imbleval's?" + +"No." + +"Madame Vaurois', therefore?" + +"No." + +A stupefied silence welcomed the two replies. + +"Explain yourself," Rénine commanded, looking at his watch. + +Then Madame Boussignol fell on her knees and said, in so low and dull a +voice that they had to bend over her in order to catch the sense of what +she was mumbling: + +"Some one came in the evening ... a gentleman with a new-born baby wrapped +in blankets, which he wanted the doctor to look after. As the doctor wasn't +there, he waited all night and it was he who did it all." + +"Did what?" asked Rénine. "What did he do? What happened?" + +"Well, what happened was that it was not one child but the two of them that +died: Madame d'Imbleval's and Madame Vaurois' too, both in convulsions. +Then the gentleman, seeing this, said, 'This shows me where my duty lies. I +must seize this opportunity of making sure that my own boy shall be happy +and well cared for. Put him in the place of one of the dead children.' He +offered me a big sum of money, saying that this one payment would save him +the expense of providing for his child every month; and I accepted. Only, I +did not know in whose place to put him and whether to say that the boy was +Louis d'Imbleval or Jean Vaurois. The gentleman thought a moment and said +neither. Then he explained to me what I was to do and what I was to say +after he had gone. And, while I was dressing his boy in vest and binders +the same as one of the dead children, he wrapped the other in the blankets +he had brought with him and went out into the night." + +Mlle. Boussignol bent her head and wept. After a moment, Rénine said: + +"Your deposition agrees with the result of my investigations." + +"Can I go?" + +"Yes." + +"And is it over, as far as I'm concerned? They won't be talking about this +all over the district?" + +"No. Oh, just one more question: do you know the man's name?" + +"No. He didn't tell me his name." + +"Have you ever seen him since?" + +"Never." + +"Have you anything more to say?" + +"No." + +"Are you prepared to sign the written text of your confession?" + +"Yes." + +"Very well. I shall send for you in a week or two. Till then, not a word to +anybody." + +He saw her to the door and closed it after her. When he returned, Jean +Louis was between the two old ladies and all three were holding hands. The +bond of hatred and wretchedness which had bound them had suddenly snapped; +and this rupture, without requiring them to reflect upon the matter, filled +them with a gentle tranquillity of which they were hardly conscious, but +which made them serious and thoughtful. + +"Let's rush things," said Rénine to Hortense. "This is the decisive moment +of the battle. We must get Jean Louis on board." + +Hortense seemed preoccupied. She whispered: + +"Why did you let the woman go? Were you satisfied with her statement?" + +"I don't need to be satisfied. She told us what happened. What more do you +want?" + +"Nothing.... I don't know...." + +"We'll talk about it later, my dear. For the moment, I repeat, we must get +Jean Louis on board. And immediately.... Otherwise...." + +He turned to the young man: + +"You agree with me, don't you, that, things being as they are, it is best +for you and Madame Vaurois and Madame d'Imbleval to separate for a time? +That will enable you all to see matters more clearly and to decide in +perfect freedom what is to be done. Come with us, monsieur. The most +pressing thing is to save Geneviève Aymard, your _fiancée_." + +Jean Louis stood perplexed and undecided. Rénine turned to the two women: + +"That is your opinion too, I am sure, ladies?" + +They nodded. + +"You see, monsieur," he said to Jean Louis, "we are all agreed. In great +crises, there is nothing like separation ... a few days' respite. Quickly +now, monsieur." + +And, without giving him time to hesitate, he drove him towards his bedroom +to pack up. + +Half an hour later, Jean Louis left the manor-house with his new friends. + +"And he won't go back until he's married," said Rénine to Hortense, as they +were waiting at Carhaix station, to which the car had taken them, while +Jean Louis was attending to his luggage. "Everything's for the best. Are +you satisfied?" + +"Yes, Geneviève will be glad," she replied, absently. + +When they had taken their seats in the train, Rénine and she repaired to +the dining-car. Rénine, who had asked Hortense several questions to which +she had replied only in monosyllables, protested: + +"What's the matter with you, my child? You look worried!" + +"I? Not at all!" + +"Yes, yes, I know you. Now, no secrets, no mysteries!" + +She smiled: + +"Well, since you insist on knowing if I am satisfied, I am bound to +admit that of course I am ... as regards my friend Geneviève, but that, +in another respect--from the point of view of the adventure--I have an +uncomfortable sort of feeling...." + +"To speak frankly, I haven't 'staggered' you this time?" + +"Not very much." + +"I seem to you to have played a secondary part. For, after all, what have I +done? We arrived. We listened to Jean Louis' tale of woe. I had a midwife +fetched. And that was all." + +"Exactly. I want to know if that _was_ all; and I'm not quite sure. +To tell you the truth, our other adventures left behind them an impression +which was--how shall I put it?--more definite, clearer." + +"And this one strikes you as obscure?" + +"Obscure, yes, and incomplete." + +"But in what way?" + +"I don't know. Perhaps it has something to do with that woman's confession. +Yes, very likely that is it. It was all so unexpected and so short." + +"Well, of course, I cut it short, as you can readily imagine!" said Rénine, +laughing. "We didn't want too many explanations." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, if she had given her explanations with too much detail, we should +have ended by doubting what she was telling us." + +"By doubting it?" + +"Well, hang it all, the story is a trifle far-fetched! That fellow arriving +at night, with a live baby in his pocket, and going away with a dead one: +the thing hardly holds water. But you see, my dear, I hadn't much time to +coach the unfortunate woman in her part." + +Hortense stared at him in amazement: + +"What on earth do you mean?" + +"Well, you know how dull-witted these countrywomen are. And she and I +had no time to spare. So we worked out a little scene in a hurry ... and +she really didn't act it so badly. It was all in the right key: terror, +_tremolo_, tears...." + +"Is it possible?" murmured Hortense. "Is it possible? You had seen her +beforehand?" + +"I had to, of course." + +"But when?" + +"This morning, when we arrived. While you were titivating yourself at +the hotel at Carhaix, I was running round to see what information I +could pick up. As you may imagine, everybody in the district knows the +d'Imbleval-Vaurois story. I was at once directed to the former midwife, +Mlle. Boussignol. With Mlle. Boussignol it did not take long. Three minutes +to settle a new version of what had happened and ten thousand francs to +induce her to repeat that ... more or less credible ... version to the +people at the manor-house." + +"A quite incredible version!" + +"Not so bad as all that, my child, seeing that you believed it ... and +the others too. And that was the essential thing. What I had to do was to +demolish at one blow a truth which had been twenty-seven years in existence +and which was all the more firmly established because it was founded on +actual facts. That was why I went for it with all my might and attacked it +by sheer force of eloquence. Impossible to identify the children? I deny +it. Inevitable confusion? It's not true. 'You're all three,' I say, 'the +victims of something which I don't know but which it is your duty to clear +up!' 'That's easily done,' says Jean Louis, whose conviction is at once +shaken. 'Let's send for Mlle. Boussignol.' 'Right! Let's send for her.' +Whereupon Mlle. Boussignol arrives and mumbles out the little speech which +I have taught her. Sensation! General stupefaction ... of which I take +advantage to carry off our young man!" + +Hortense shook her head: + +"But they'll get over it, all three of them, on thinking!" + +"Never! Never! They will have their doubts, perhaps. But they will +never consent to feel certain! They will never agree to think! Use your +imagination! Here are three people whom I have rescued from the hell in +which they have been floundering for a quarter of a century. Do you think +they're going back to it? Here are three people who, from weakness or a +false sense of duty, had not the courage to escape. Do you think that they +won't cling like grim death to the liberty which I'm giving them? Nonsense! +Why, they would have swallowed a hoax twice as difficult to digest as that +which Mlle. Boussignol dished up for them! After all, my version was no +more absurd than the truth. On the contrary. And they swallowed it whole! +Look at this: before we left, I heard Madame d'Imbleval and Madame Vaurois +speak of an immediate removal. They were already becoming quite +affectionate at the thought of seeing the last of each other." + +"But what about Jean Louis?" + +"Jean Louis? Why, he was fed up with his two mothers! By Jingo, one can't +do with two mothers in a life-time! What a situation! And when one has the +luck to be able to choose between having two mothers or none at all, why, +bless me, one doesn't hesitate! And, besides, Jean Louis is in love with +Geneviève." He laughed. "And he loves her well enough, I hope and trust, +not to inflict two mothers-in-law upon her! Come, you may be easy in your +mind. Your friend's happiness is assured; and that is all you asked for. +All that matters is the object which we achieve and not the more or less +peculiar nature of the methods which we employ. And, if some adventures +are wound up and some mysteries elucidated by looking for and finding +cigarette-ends, or incendiary water-bottles and blazing hat-boxes as on our +last expedition, others call for psychology and for purely psychological +solutions. I have spoken. And I charge you to be silent." + +"Silent?" + +"Yes, there's a man and woman sitting behind us who seem to be saying +something uncommonly interesting." + +"But they're talking in whispers." + +"Just so. When people talk in whispers, it's always about something shady." + +He lit a cigarette and sat back in his chair. Hortense listened, but in +vain. As for him, he was emitting little slow puffs of smoke. + +Fifteen minutes later, the train stopped and the man and woman got out. + +"Pity," said Rénine, "that I don't know their names or where they're going. +But I know where to find them. My dear, we have a new adventure before us." + +Hortense protested: + +"Oh, no, please, not yet!... Give me a little rest!... And oughtn't we to +think of Geneviève?" + +He seemed greatly surprised: + +"Why, all that's over and done with! Do you mean to say you want to waste +any more time over that old story? Well, I for my part confess that I've +lost all interest in the man with the two mammas." + +And this was said in such a comical tone and with such diverting sincerity +that Hortense was once more seized with a fit of giggling. Laughter alone +was able to relax her exasperated nerves and to distract her from so many +contradictory emotions. + + + + +IV + +THE TELL-TALE FILM + + +"Do look at the man who's playing the butler," said Serge Rénine. + +"What is there peculiar about him?" asked Hortense. + +They were sitting in the balcony at a picture-palace, to which Hortense had +asked to be taken so that she might see on the screen the daughter of a +lady, now dead, who used to give her piano-lessons. Rose Andrée, a lovely +girl with lissome movements and a smiling face, was that evening figuring +in a new film, _The Happy Princess_, which she lit up with her high +spirits and her warm, glowing beauty. + +Rénine made no direct reply, but, during a pause in the performance, +continued: + +"I sometimes console myself for an indifferent film by watching the +subordinate characters. It seems to me that those poor devils, who are made +to rehearse certain scenes ten or twenty times over, must often be thinking +of other things than their parts at the time of the final exposure. And +it's great fun noting those little moments of distraction which reveal +something of their temperament, of their instinct self. As, for instance, +in the case of that butler: look!" + +The screen now showed a luxuriously served table. The Happy Princess sat at +the head, surrounded by all her suitors. Half-a-dozen footmen moved about +the room, under the orders of the butler, a big fellow with a dull, coarse +face, a common appearance and a pair of enormous eyebrows which met across +his forehead in a single line. + +"He looks a brute," said Hortense, "but what do you see in him that's +peculiar?" + +"Just note how he gazes at the princess and tell me if he doesn't stare at +her oftener than he ought to." + +"I really haven't noticed anything, so far," said Hortense. + +"Why, of course he does!" Serge Rénine declared. "It is quite obvious that +in actual life he entertains for Rose Andrée personal feelings which are +quite out of place in a nameless servant. It is possible that, in real +life, no one has any idea of such a thing; but, on the screen, when he is +not watching himself, or when he thinks that the actors at rehearsal cannot +see him, his secret escapes him. Look...." + +The man was standing still. It was the end of dinner. The princess was +drinking a glass of champagne and he was gloating over her with his +glittering eyes half-hidden behind their heavy lids. + +Twice again they surprised in his face those strange expressions to which +Rénine ascribed an emotional meaning which Hortense refused to see: + +"It's just his way of looking at people," she said. + +The first part of the film ended. There were two parts, divided by an +_entr'acte_. The notice on the programme stated that "a year had +elapsed and that the Happy Princess was living in a pretty Norman cottage, +all hung with creepers, together with her husband, a poor musician." + +The princess was still happy, as was evident on the screen, still as +attractive as ever and still besieged by the greatest variety of suitors. +Nobles and commoners, peasants and financiers, men of all kinds fell +swooning at her feet; and prominent among them was a sort of boorish +solitary, a shaggy, half-wild woodcutter, whom she met whenever she went +out for a walk. Armed with his axe, a formidable, crafty being, he prowled +around the cottage; and the spectators felt with a sense of dismay that a +peril was hanging over the Happy Princess' head. + +"Look at that!" whispered Rénine. "Do you realise who the man of the woods +is?" + +"No." + +"Simply the butler. The same actor is doubling the two parts." + +In fact, notwithstanding the new figure which he cut, the butler's +movements and postures were apparent under the heavy gait and rounded +shoulders of the woodcutter, even as under the unkempt beard and long, +thick hair the once clean-shaven face was visible with the cruel expression +and the bushy line of the eyebrows. + +The princess, in the background, was seen to emerge from the thatched +cottage. The man hid himself behind a clump of trees. From time to time, +the screen displayed, on an enormously enlarged scale, his fiercely rolling +eyes or his murderous hands with their huge thumbs. + +"The man frightens me," said Hortense. "He is really terrifying." + +"Because he's acting on his own account," said Rénine. "You must understand +that, in the space of three or four months that appears to separate the +dates at which the two films were made, his passion has made progress; and +to him it is not the princess who is coming but Rose Andrée." + +The man crouched low. The victim approached, gaily and unsuspectingly. She +passed, heard a sound, stopped and looked about her with a smiling air +which became attentive, then uneasy, and then more and more anxious. The +woodcutter had pushed aside the branches and was coming through the copse. + +They were now standing face to face. He opened his arms as though to seize +her. She tried to scream, to call out for help; but the arms closed around +her before she could offer the slightest resistance. Then he threw her over +his shoulder and began to run. + +"Are you satisfied?" whispered Rénine. "Do you think that this fourth-rate +actor would have had all that strength and energy if it had been any other +woman than Rose Andrée?" + +Meanwhile the woodcutter was crossing the skirt of a forest and plunging +through great trees and masses of rocks. After setting the princess down, +he cleared the entrance to a cave which the daylight entered by a slanting +crevice. + +A succession of views displayed the husband's despair, the search and the +discovery of some small branches which had been broken by the princess +and which showed the path that had been taken. Then came the final scene, +with the terrible struggle between the man and the woman when the woman, +vanquished and exhausted, is flung to the ground, the sudden arrival of the +husband and the shot that puts an end to the brute's life.... + + * * * * * + +"Well," said Rénine, when they had left the picture-palace--and he +spoke with a certain gravity--"I maintain that the daughter of your old +piano-teacher has been in danger ever since the day when that last scene +was filmed. I maintain that this scene represents not so much an assault by +the man of the woods on the Happy Princess as a violent and frantic attack +by an actor on the woman he desires. Certainly it all happened within the +bounds prescribed by the part and nobody saw anything in it--nobody except +perhaps Rose Andrée herself--but I, for my part, have detected flashes +of passion which leave not a doubt in my mind. I have seen glances that +betrayed the wish and even the intention to commit murder. I have seen +clenched hands, ready to strangle, in short, a score of details which prove +to me that, at that time, the man's instinct was urging him to kill the +woman who could never be his." + +"And it all amounts to what?" + +"We must protect Rose Andrée if she is still in danger and if it is not too +late." + +"And to do this?" + +"We must get hold of further information." + +"From whom?" + +"From the World's Cinema Company, which made the film. I will go to them +to-morrow morning. Will you wait for me in your flat about lunch-time?" + +At heart, Hortense was still sceptical. All these manifestations of +passion, of which she denied neither the ardour nor the ferocity, seemed +to her to be the rational behaviour of a good actor. She had seen nothing +of the terrible tragedy which Rénine contended that he had divined; and +she wondered whether he was not erring through an excess of imagination. + +"Well," she asked, next day, not without a touch of irony, "how far have +you got? Have you made a good bag? Anything mysterious? Anything +thrilling?" + +"Pretty good." + +"Oh, really? And your so-called lover...." + +"Is one Dalbrèque, originally a scene-painter, who played the butler in the +first part of the film and the man of the woods in the second and was so +much appreciated that they engaged him for a new film. Consequently, he has +been acting lately. He was acting near Paris. But, on the morning of Friday +the 18th of September, he broke into the garage of the World's Cinema +Company and made off with a magnificent car and forty thousand francs +in money. Information was lodged with the police; and on the Sunday the +car was found a little way outside Dreux. And up to now the enquiry has +revealed two things, which will appear in the papers to-morrow: first, +Dalbrèque is alleged to have committed a murder which created a great stir +last year, the murder of Bourguet, the jeweller; secondly, on the day after +his two robberies, Dalbrèque was driving through Le Havre in a motor-car +with two men who helped him to carry off, in broad daylight and in a +crowded street, a lady whose identity has not yet been discovered." + +"Rose Andrée?" asked Hortense, uneasily. + +"I have just been to Rose Andrée's: the World's Cinema Company gave me her +address. Rose Andrée spent this summer travelling and then stayed for a +fortnight in the Seine-inférieure, where she has a small place of her own, +the actual cottage in _The Happy Princess_. On receiving an invitation +from America to do a film there, she came back to Paris, registered her +luggage at the Gare Saint-Lazare and left on Friday the 18th of September, +intending to sleep at Le Havre and take Saturday's boat." + +"Friday the 18th," muttered Hortense, "the same day on which that man...." + +"And it was on the Saturday that a woman was carried off by him at +Le Havre. I looked in at the Compagnie Transatlantique and a brief +investigation showed that Rose Andrée had booked a cabin but that the +cabin remained unoccupied. The passenger did not turn up." + +"This is frightful. She has been carried off. You were right." + +"I fear so." + +"What have you decided to do?" + +"Adolphe, my chauffeur, is outside with the car. Let us go to Le Havre. Up +to the present, Rose Andrée's disappearance does not seem to have become +known. Before it does and before the police identify the woman carried off +by Dalbrèque with the woman who did not turn up to claim her cabin, we will +get on Rose Andrée's track." + +There was not much said on the journey. At four o'clock Hortense and Rénine +reached Rouen. But here Rénine changed his road. + +"Adolphe, take the left bank of the Seine." + +He unfolded a motoring-map on his knees and, tracing the route with his +finger, showed Hortense that, if you draw a line from Le Havre, or rather +from Quillebeuf, where the road crosses the Seine, to Dreux, where the +stolen car was found, this line passes through Routot, a market-town lying +west of the forest of Brotonne: + +"Now it was in the forest of Brotonne," he continued, "according to what I +heard, that the second part of _The Happy Princess_ was filmed. And +the question that arises is this: having got hold of Rose Andrée, would it +not occur to Dalbrèque, when passing near the forest on the Saturday night, +to hide his prey there, while his two accomplices went on to Dreux and from +there returned to Paris? The cave was quite near. Was he not bound to go to +it? How should he do otherwise? Wasn't it while running to this cave, a few +months ago, that he held in his arms, against his breast, within reach of +his lips, the woman whom he loved and whom he has now conquered? By every +rule of fate and logic, the adventure is being repeated all over again ... +but this time in reality. Rose Andrée is a captive. There is no hope +of rescue. The forest is vast and lonely. That night, or on one of the +following nights, Rose Andrée must surrender ... or die." + +Hortense gave a shudder: + +"We shall be too late. Besides, you don't suppose that he's keeping her a +prisoner?" + +"Certainly not. The place I have in mind is at a cross-roads and is not a +safe retreat. But we may discover some clue or other." + +The shades of night were falling from the tall trees when they entered the +ancient forest of Brotonne, full of Roman remains and mediaeval relics. +Rénine knew the forest well and remembered that near a famous oak, known +as the Wine-cask, there was a cave which must be the cave of the Happy +Princess. He found it easily, switched on his electric torch, rummaged in +the dark corners and brought Hortense back to the entrance: + +"There's nothing inside," he said, "but here is the evidence which I was +looking for. Dalbrèque was obsessed by the recollection of the film, but so +was Rose Andrée. The Happy Princess had broken off the tips of the branches +on the way through the forest. Rose Andrée has managed to break off some to +the right of this opening, in the hope that she would be discovered as on +the first occasion." + +"Yes," said Hortense, "it's a proof that she has been here; but the proof +is three weeks old. Since that time...." + +"Since that time, she is either dead and buried under a heap of leaves or +else alive in some hole even lonelier than this." + +"If so, where is he?" + +Rénine pricked up his ears. Repeated blows of the axe were sounding from +some distance, no doubt coming from a part of the forest that was being +cleared. + +"He?" said Rénine, "I wonder whether he may not have continued to behave +under the influence of the film and whether the man of the woods in _The +Happy Princess_ has not quite naturally resumed his calling. For how is +the man to live, to obtain his food, without attracting attention? He will +have found a job." + +"We can't make sure of that." + +"We might, by questioning the woodcutters whom we can hear." + +The car took them by a forest-road to another cross-roads where they +entered on foot a track which was deeply rutted by waggon-wheels. The sound +of axes ceased. After walking for a quarter of an hour, they met a dozen +men who, having finished work for the day, were returning to the villages +near by. + +"Will this path take us to Routot?" ask Rénine, in order to open a +conversation with them. + +"No, you're turning your backs on it," said one of the men, gruffly. + +And he went on, accompanied by his mates. + +Hortense and Rénine stood rooted to the spot. They had recognized the +butler. His cheeks and chin were shaved, but his upper lip was covered by +a black moustache, evidently dyed. The eyebrows no longer met and were +reduced to normal dimensions. + + * * * * * + +Thus, in less than twenty hours, acting on the vague hints supplied by the +bearing of a film-actor, Serge Rénine had touched the very heart of the +tragedy by means of purely psychological arguments. + +"Rose Andrée is alive," he said. "Otherwise Dalbrèque would have left the +country. The poor thing must be imprisoned and bound up; and he takes her +some food at night." + +"We will save her, won't we?" + +"Certainly, by keeping a watch on him and, if necessary, but in the last +resort, compelling him by force to give up his secret." + +They followed the woodcutter at a distance and, on the pretext that the car +needed overhauling, engaged rooms in the principal inn at Routot. + +Attached to the inn was a small café from which they were separated by the +entrance to the yard and above which were two rooms, reached by a wooden +outer staircase, at one side. Dalbrèque occupied one of these rooms and +Rénine took the other for his chauffeur. + +Next morning he learnt from Adolphe that Dalbrèque, on the previous +evening, after all the lights were out, had carried down a bicycle from his +room and mounted it and had not returned until shortly before sunrise. + +The bicycle tracks led Rénine to the uninhabited Château des Landes, five +miles from the village. They disappeared in a rocky path which ran beside +the park down to the Seine, opposite the Jumièges peninsula. + +Next night, he took up his position there. At eleven o'clock, Dalbrèque +climbed a bank, scrambled over a wire fence, hid his bicycle under the +branches and moved away. It seemed impossible to follow him in the pitchy +darkness, on a mossy soil that muffled the sound of footsteps. Rénine did +not make the attempt; but, at daybreak, he came with his chauffeur and +hunted through the park all the morning. Though the park, which covered +the side of a hill and was bounded below by the river, was not very large, +he found no clue which gave him any reason to suppose that Rose Andrée was +imprisoned there. + +He therefore went back to the village, with the firm intention of taking +action that evening and employing force: + +"This state of things cannot go on," he said to Hortense. "I must rescue +Rose Andrée at all costs and save her from that ruffian's clutches. He must +be made to speak. He must. Otherwise there's a danger that we may be too +late." + +That day was Sunday; and Dalbrèque did not go to work. He did not leave his +room except for lunch and went upstairs again immediately afterwards. But +at three o'clock Rénine and Hortense, who were keeping a watch on him from +the inn, saw him come down the wooden staircase, with his bicycle on his +shoulder. Leaning it against the bottom step, he inflated the tires and +fastened to the handle-bar a rather bulky object wrapped in a newspaper. + +"By Jove!" muttered Rénine. + +"What's the matter?" + +In front of the café was a small terrace bordered on the right and left by +spindle-trees planted in boxes, which were connected by a paling. Behind +the shrubs, sitting on a bank but stooping forward so that they could see +Dalbrèque through the branches, were four men. + +"Police!" said Rénine. "What bad luck! If those fellows take a hand, they +will spoil everything." + +"Why? On the contrary, I should have thought...." + +"Yes, they will. They will put Dalbrèque out of the way ... and then? Will +that give us Rose Andrée?" + +Dalbrèque had finished his preparations. Just as he was mounting his +bicycle, the detectives rose in a body, ready to make a dash for him. But +Dalbrèque, though quite unconscious of their presence, changed his mind and +went back to his room as though he had forgotten something. + +"Now's the time!" said Rénine. "I'm going to risk it. But it's a difficult +situation and I've no great hopes." + +He went out into the yard and, at a moment when the detectives were not +looking, ran up the staircase, as was only natural if he wished to give an +order to his chauffeur. But he had no sooner reached the rustic balcony at +the back of the house, which gave admission to the two bedrooms than he +stopped. Dalbrèque's door was open. Rénine walked in. + +Dalbrèque stepped back, at once assuming the defensive: + +"What do you want? Who said you could...." + +"Silence!" whispered Rénine, with an imperious gesture. "It's all up with +you!" + +"What are you talking about?" growled the man, angrily. + +"Lean out of your window. There are four men below on the watch for you to +leave, four detectives." + +Dalbrèque leant over the terrace and muttered an oath: + +"On the watch for me?" he said, turning round. "What do I care?" + +"They have a warrant." + +He folded his arms: + +"Shut up with your piffle! A warrant! What's that to me?" + +"Listen," said Rénine, "and let us waste no time. It's urgent. Your name's +Dalbrèque, or, at least, that's the name under which you acted in _The +Happy Princess_ and under which the police are looking for you as being +the murderer of Bourguet the jeweller, the man who stole a motor-car and +forty thousand francs from the World's Cinema Company and the man who +abducted a woman at Le Havre. All this is known and proved ... and here's +the upshot. Four men downstairs. Myself here, my chauffeur in the next +room. You're done for. Do you want me to save you?" + +Dalbrèque gave his adversary a long look: + +"Who are you?" + +"A friend of Rose Andrée's," said Rénine. + +The other started and, to some extent dropping his mask, retorted: + +"What are your conditions?" + +"Rose Andrée, whom you have abducted and tormented, is dying in some hole +or corner. Where is she?" + +A strange thing occurred and impressed Rénine. Dalbrèque's face, usually so +common, was lit up by a smile that made it almost attractive. But this was +only a flashing vision: the man immediately resumed his hard and impassive +expression. + +"And suppose I refuse to speak?" he said. + +"So much the worse for you. It means your arrest." + +"I dare say; but it means the death of Rose Andrée. Who will release her?" + +"You. You will speak now, or in an hour, or two hours hence at least. You +will never have the heart to keep silent and let her die." + +Dalbrèque shrugged his shoulders. Then, raising his hand, he said: + +"I swear on my life that, if they arrest me, not a word will leave my +lips." + +"What then?" + +"Then save me. We will meet this evening at the entrance to the Parc des +Landes and say what we have to say." + +"Why not at once?" + +"I have spoken." + +"Will you be there?" + +"I shall be there." + +Rénine reflected. There was something in all this that he failed to grasp. +In any case, the frightful danger that threatened Rose Andrée dominated the +whole situation; and Rénine was not the man to despise this threat and to +persist out of vanity in a perilous course. Rose Andrée's life came before +everything. + +He struck several blows on the wall of the next bedroom and called his +chauffeur. + +"Adolphe, is the car ready?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Set her going and pull her up in front of the terrace outside the café, +right against the boxes so as to block the exit. As for you," he continued, +addressing Dalbrèque, "you're to jump on your machine and, instead of +making off along the road, cross the yard. At the end of the yard is a +passage leading into a lane. There you will be free. But no hesitation and +no blundering ... else you'll get yourself nabbed. Good luck to you." + +He waited till the car was drawn up in accordance with his instructions +and, when he reached it, he began to question his chauffeur, in order to +attract the detectives' attention. + +One of them, however, having cast a glance through the spindle-trees, +caught sight of Dalbrèque just as he reached the bottom of the staircase. +He gave the alarm and darted forward, followed by his comrades, but had +to run round the car and bumped into the chauffeur, which gave Dalbrèque +time to mount his bicycle and cross the yard unimpeded. He thus had some +seconds' start. Unfortunately for him as he was about to enter the passage +at the back, a troop of boys and girls appeared, returning from vespers. On +hearing the shouts of the detectives, they spread their arms in front of +the fugitive, who gave two or three lurches and ended by falling. + +Cries of triumph were raised: + +"Lay hold of him! Stop him!" roared the detectives as they rushed forward. + +Rénine, seeing that the game was up, ran after the others and called out: + +"Stop him!" + +He came up with them just as Dalbrèque, after regaining his feet, knocked +one of the policemen down and levelled his revolver. Rénine snatched it out +of his hands. But the two other detectives, startled, had also produced +their weapons. They fired. Dalbrèque, hit in the leg and the chest, pitched +forward and fell. + +"Thank you, sir," said the inspector to Rénine introducing himself. "We owe +a lot to you." + +"It seems to me that you've done for the fellow," said Rénine. "Who is he?" + +"One Dalbrèque, a scoundrel for whom we were looking." + +Rénine was beside himself. Hortense had joined him by this time; and he +growled: + +"The silly fools! Now they've killed him!" + +"Oh, it isn't possible!" + +"We shall see. But, whether he's dead or alive, it's death to Rose Andrée. +How are we to trace her? And what chance have we of finding the place--some +inaccessible retreat--where the poor thing is dying of misery and +starvation?" + +The detectives and peasants had moved away, bearing Dalbrèque with them on +an improvised stretcher. Rénine, who had at first followed them, in order +to find out what was going to happen, changed his mind and was now standing +with his eyes fixed on the ground. The fall of the bicycle had unfastened +the parcel which Dalbrèque had tied to the handle-bar; and the newspaper +had burst, revealing its contents, a tin saucepan, rusty, dented, battered +and useless. + +"What's the meaning of this?" he muttered. "What was the idea?..." + +He picked it up examined it. Then he gave a grin and a click of the tongue +and chuckled, slowly: + +"Don't move an eyelash, my dear. Let all these people clear off. All this +is no business of ours, is it? The troubles of police don't concern us. We +are two motorists travelling for our pleasure and collecting old saucepans +if we feel so inclined." + +He called his chauffeur: + +"Adolphe, take us to the Parc des Landes by a roundabout road." + +Half an hour later they reached the sunken track and began to scramble down +it on foot beside the wooded slopes. The Seine, which was very low at this +time of day, was lapping against a little jetty near which lay a +worm-eaten, mouldering boat, full of puddles of water. + +Rénine stepped into the boat and at once began to bale out the puddles with +his saucepan. He then drew the boat alongside of the jetty, helped Hortense +in and used the one oar which he shipped in a gap in the stern to work her +into midstream: + +"I believe I'm there!" he said, with a laugh. "The worst that can happen +to us is to get our feet wet, for our craft leaks a trifle. But haven't we +a saucepan? Oh, blessings on that useful utensil! Almost as soon as I set +eyes upon it, I remembered that people use those articles to bale out the +bottoms of leaky boats. Why, there was bound to be a boat in the Landes +woods! How was it I never thought of that? But of course Dalbrèque made use +of her to cross the Seine! And, as she made water, he brought a saucepan." + +"Then Rose Andrée ...?" asked Hortense. + +"Is a prisoner on the other bank, on the Jumièges peninsula. You see the +famous abbey from here." + +They ran aground on a beach of big pebbles covered with slime. + +"And it can't be very far away," he added. "Dalbrèque did not spend the +whole night running about." + +A tow-path followed the deserted bank. Another path led away from it. They +chose the second and, passing between orchards enclosed by hedges, came to +a landscape that seemed strangely familiar to them. Where had they seen +that pool before, with the willows overhanging it? And where had they seen +that abandoned hovel? + +Suddenly both of them stopped with one accord: + +"Oh!" said Hortense. "I can hardly believe my eyes!" + +Opposite them was the white gate of a large orchard, at the back of which, +among groups of old, gnarled apple-trees, appeared a cottage with blue +shutters, the cottage of the Happy Princess. + +"Of course!" cried Rénine. "And I ought to have known it, considering +that the film showed both this cottage and the forest close by. And isn't +everything happening exactly as in _The Happy Princess_? Isn't +Dalbrèque dominated by the memory of it? The house, which is certainly the +one in which Rose Andrée spent the summer, was empty. He has shut her up +there." + +"But the house, you told me, was in the Seine-inférieure." + +"Well, so are we! To the left of the river, the Eure and the forest of +Brotonne; to the right, the Seine-inférieure. But between them is the +obstacle of the river, which is why I didn't connect the two. A hundred and +fifty yards of water form a more effective division than dozens of miles." + +The gate was locked. They got through the hedge a little lower down and +walked towards the house, which was screened on one side by an old wall +shaggy with ivy and roofed with thatch. + +"It seems as if there was somebody there," said Hortense. "Didn't I hear +the sound of a window?" + +"Listen." + +Some one struck a few chords on a piano. Then a voice arose, a woman's +voice softly and solemnly singing a ballad that thrilled with restrained +passion. The woman's whole soul seemed to breathe itself into the melodious +notes. + +They walked on. The wall concealed them from view, but they saw a +sitting-room furnished with bright wall-paper and a blue Roman carpet. The +throbbing voice ceased. The piano ended with a last chord; and the singer +rose and appeared framed in the window. + +"Rose Andrée!" whispered Hortense. + +"Well!" said Rénine, admitting his astonishment. "This is the last thing +that I expected! Rose Andrée! Rose Andrée at liberty! And singing Massenet +in the sitting room of her cottage!" + +"What does it all mean? Do you understand?" + +"Yes, but it has taken me long enough! But how could we have guessed ...?" + +Although they had never seen her except on the screen, they had not the +least doubt that this was she. It was really Rose Andrée, or rather, +the Happy Princess, whom they had admired a few days before, amidst the +furniture of that very sitting-room or on the threshold of that very +cottage. She was wearing the same dress; her hair was done in the same way; +she had on the same bangles and necklaces as in _The Happy Princess_; +and her lovely face, with its rosy cheeks and laughing eyes, bore the same +look of joy and serenity. + +Some sound must have caught her ear, for she leant over towards a clump of +shrubs beside the cottage and whispered into the silent garden: + +"Georges ... Georges ... Is that you, my darling?" + +Receiving no reply, she drew herself up and stood smiling at the happy +thoughts that seemed to flood her being. + +But a door opened at the back of the room and an old peasant woman entered +with a tray laden with bread, butter and milk: + +"Here, Rose, my pretty one, I've brought you your supper. Milk fresh from +the cow...." + +And, putting down the tray, she continued: + +"Aren't you afraid, Rose, of the chill of the night air? Perhaps you're +expecting your sweetheart?" + +"I haven't a sweetheart, my dear old Catherine." + +"What next!" said the old woman, laughing. "Only this morning there were +footprints under the window that didn't look at all proper!" + +"A burglar's footprints perhaps, Catherine." + +"Well, I don't say they weren't, Rose dear, especially as in your calling +you have a lot of people round you whom it's well to be careful of. For +instance, your friend Dalbrèque, eh? Nice goings on his are! You saw the +paper yesterday. A fellow who has robbed and murdered people and carried +off a woman at Le Havre ...!" + +Hortense and Rénine would have much liked to know what Rose Andrée thought +of the revelations, but she had turned her back to them and was sitting at +her supper; and the window was now closed, so that they could neither hear +her reply nor see the expression of her features. + +They waited for a moment. Hortense was listening with an anxious face. But +Rénine began to laugh: + +"Very funny, really funny! And such an unexpected ending! And we who were +hunting for her in some cave or damp cellar, a horrible tomb where the poor +thing was dying of hunger! It's a fact, she knew the terrors of that first +night of captivity; and I maintain that, on that first night, she was +flung, half-dead, into the cave. Only, there you are: the next morning +she was alive! One night was enough to tame the little rogue and to +make Dalbrèque as handsome as Prince Charming in her eyes! For see the +difference. On the films or in novels, the Happy Princesses resist or +commit suicide. But in real life ... oh, woman, woman!" + +"Yes," said Hortense, "but the man she loves is almost certainly dead." + +"And a good thing too! It would be the best solution. What would be the +outcome of this criminal love for a thief and murderer?" + +A few minutes passed. Then, amid the peaceful silence of the waning day, +mingled with the first shadows of the twilight, they again heard the +grating of the window, which was cautiously opened. Rose Andrée leant over +the garden and waited, with her eyes turned to the wall, as though she saw +something there. + +Presently, Rénine shook the ivy-branches. + +"Ah!" she said. "This time I know you're there! Yes, the ivy's moving. +Georges, Georges darling, why do you keep me waiting? Catherine has gone. +I am all alone...." + +She had knelt down and was distractedly stretching out her shapely arms +covered with bangles which clashed with a metallic sound: + +"Georges!... Georges!..." + +Her every movement, the thrill of her voice, her whole being expressed +desire and love. Hortense, deeply touched, could not help saying: + +"How the poor thing loves him! If she but knew...." + +"Ah!" cried the girl. "You've spoken. You're there, and you want me to come +to you, don't you? Here I am, Georges!..." + +She climbed over the window-ledge and began to run, while Rénine went round +the wall and advanced to meet her. + +She stopped short in front of him and stood choking at the sight of this +man and woman whom she did not know and who were stepping out of the very +shadow from which her beloved appeared to her each night. + +Rénine bowed, gave his name and introduced his companion: + +"Madame Hortense Daniel, a pupil and friend of your mother's." + +Still motionless with stupefaction, her features drawn, she stammered: + +"You know who I am?... And you were there just now?... You heard what I +was saying ...?" + +Rénine, without hesitating or pausing in his speech, said: + +"You are Rose Andrée, the Happy Princess. We saw you on the films the other +evening; and circumstances led us to set out in search of you ... to Le +Havre, where you were abducted on the day when you were to have left for +America, and to the forest of Brotonne, where you were imprisoned." + +She protested eagerly, with a forced laugh: + +"What is all this? I have not been to Le Havre. I came straight here. +Abducted? Imprisoned? What nonsense!" + +"Yes, imprisoned, in the same cave as the Happy Princess; and you broke off +some branches to the right of the cave." + +"But how absurd! Who would have abducted me? I have no enemy." + +"There is a man in love with you: the one whom you were expecting just +now." + +"Yes, my lover," she said, proudly. "Have I not the right to receive whom I +like?" + +"You have the right; you are a free agent. But the man who comes to see you +every evening is wanted by the police. His name is Georges Dalbrèque. He +killed Bourguet the jeweller." + +The accusation made her start with indignation and she exclaimed: + +"It's a lie! An infamous fabrication of the newspapers! Georges was in +Paris on the night of the murder. He can prove it." + +"He stole a motor car and forty thousand francs in notes." + +She retorted vehemently: + +"The motor-car was taken back by his friends and the notes will be +restored. He never touched them. My leaving for America had made him lose +his head." + +"Very well. I am quite willing to believe everything that you say. But the +police may show less faith in these statements and less indulgence." + +She became suddenly uneasy and faltered: + +"The police.... There's nothing to fear from them.... They won't know...." + +"Where to find him? I succeeded, at all events. He's working as a +woodcutter, in the forest of Brotonne." + +"Yes, but ... you ... that was an accident ... whereas the police...." + +The words left her lips with the greatest difficulty. Her voice was +trembling. And suddenly she rushed at Rénine, stammering: + +"He is arrested?... I am sure of it!... And you have come to tell me.... +Arrested! Wounded! Dead perhaps?... Oh, please, please!..." + +She had no strength left. All her pride, all the certainty of her great +love gave way to an immense despair and she sobbed out. + +"No, he's not dead, is he? No, I feel that he's not dead. Oh, sir, how +unjust it all is! He's the gentlest man, the best that ever lived. He has +changed my whole life. Everything is different since I began to love him. +And I love him so! I love him! I want to go to him. Take me to him. I want +them to arrest me too. I love him.... I could not live without him...." + +An impulse of sympathy made Hortense put her arms around the girl's neck +and say warmly: + +"Yes, come. He is not dead, I am sure, only wounded; and Prince Rénine will +save him. You will, won't you, Rénine?... Come. Make up a story for your +servant: say that you're going somewhere by train and that she is not to +tell anybody. Be quick. Put on a wrap. We will save him, I swear we will." + +Rose Andrée went indoors and returned almost at once, disguised beyond +recognition in a long cloak and a veil that shrouded her face; and they all +took the road back to Routot. At the inn, Rose Andrée passed as a friend +whom they had been to fetch in the neighbourhood and were taking to Paris +with them. Rénine ran out to make enquiries and came back to the two women. + +"It's all right. Dalbrèque is alive. They have put him to bed in a private +room at the mayor's offices. He has a broken leg and a rather high +temperature; but all the same they expect to move him to Rouen to-morrow +and they have telephoned there for a motor-car." + +"And then?" asked Rose Andrée, anxiously. + +Rénine smiled: + +"Why, then we shall leave at daybreak. We shall take up our positions in a +sunken road, rifle in hand, attack the motor-coach and carry off Georges!" + +"Oh, don't laugh!" she said, plaintively. "I am so unhappy!" + +But the adventure seemed to amuse Rénine; and, when he was alone with +Hortense, he exclaimed: + +"You see what comes of preferring dishonour to death! But hang it all, who +could have expected this? It isn't a bit the way in which things happen +in the pictures! Once the man of the woods had carried off his victim and +considering that for three weeks there was no one to defend her, how could +we imagine--we who had been proceeding all along under the influence of +the pictures--that in the space of a few hours the victim would become a +princess in love? Confound that Georges! I now understand the sly, humorous +look which I surprised on his mobile features! He remembered, Georges did, +and he didn't care a hang for me! Oh, he tricked me nicely! And you, my +dear, he tricked you too! And it was all the influence of the film. They +show us, at the cinema, a brute beast, a sort of long-haired, ape-faced +savage. What can a man like that be in real life? A brute, inevitably, +don't you agree? Well, he's nothing of the kind; he's a Don Juan! The +humbug!" + +"You will save him, won't you?" said Hortense, in a beseeching tone. + +"Are you very anxious that I should?" + +"Very." + +"In that case, promise to give me your hand to kiss." + +"You can have both hands, Rénine, and gladly." + +The night was uneventful. Rénine had given orders for the two ladies to +be waked at an early hour. When they came down, the motor was leaving the +yard and pulling up in front of the inn. It was raining; and Adolphe, the +chauffeur, had fixed up the long, low hood and packed the luggage inside. + +Rénine called for his bill. They all three took a cup of coffee. But, just +as they were leaving the room, one of the inspector's men came rushing in: + +"Have you seen him?" he asked. "Isn't he here?" + +The inspector himself arrived at a run, greatly excited: + +"The prisoner has escaped! He ran back through the inn! He can't be far +away!" + +A dozen rustics appeared like a whirlwind. They ransacked the lofts, the +stables, the sheds. They scattered over the neighbourhood. But the search +led to no discovery. + +"Oh, hang it all!" said Rénine, who had taken his part in the hunt. "How +can it have happened?" + +"How do I know?" spluttered the inspector in despair. "I left my three men +watching in the next room. I found them this morning fast asleep, stupefied +by some narcotic which had been mixed with their wine! And the Dalbrèque +bird had flown!" + +"Which way?" + +"Through the window. There were evidently accomplices, with ropes and a +ladder. And, as Dalbrèque had a broken leg, they carried him off on the +stretcher itself." + +"They left no traces?" + +"No traces of footsteps, true. The rain has messed everything up. But they +went through the yard, because the stretcher's there." + +"You'll find him, Mr. Inspector, there's no doubt of that. In any case, you +may be sure that you won't have any trouble over the affair. I shall be in +Paris this evening and shall go straight to the prefecture, where I have +influential friends." + +Rénine went back to the two women in the coffee-room and Hortense at once +said: + +"It was you who carried him off, wasn't it? Please put Rose Andrée's mind +at rest. She is so terrified!" + +He gave Rose Andrée his arm and led her to the car. She was staggering and +very pale; and she said, in a faint voice: + +"Are we going? And he: is he safe? Won't they catch him again?" + +Looking deep into her eyes, he said: + +"Swear to me, Rose Andrée, that in two months, when he is well and when +I have proved his innocence, swear that you will go away with him to +America." + +"I swear." + +"And that, once there, you will marry him." + +"I swear." + +He spoke a few words in her ear. + +"Ah!" she said. "May Heaven bless you for it!" + +Hortense took her seat in front, with Rénine, who sat at the wheel. The +inspector, hat in hand, fussed around the car until it moved off. + +They drove through the forest, crossed the Seine at La Mailleraie and +struck into the Havre-Rouen road. + +"Take off your glove and give me your hand to kiss," Rénine ordered. "You +promised that you would." + +"Oh!" said Hortense. "But it was to be when Dalbrèque was saved." + +"He is saved." + +"Not yet. The police are after him. They may catch him again. He will not +be really saved until he is with Rose Andrée." + +"He is with Rose Andrée," he declared. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Turn round." + +She did so. + +In the shadow of the hood, right at the back, behind the chauffeur, Rose +Andrée was kneeling beside a man lying on the seat. + +"Oh," stammered Hortense, "it's incredible! Then it was you who hid him +last night? And he was there, in front of the inn, when the inspector was +seeing us off?" + +"Lord, yes! He was there, under the cushions and rugs!" + +"It's incredible!" she repeated, utterly bewildered. "It's incredible! How +were you able to manage it all?" + +"I wanted to kiss your hand," he said. + +She removed her glove, as he bade her, and raised her hand to his lips. + +The car was speeding between the peaceful Seine and the white cliffs that +border it. They sat silent for a long while. Then he said: + +"I had a talk with Dalbrèque last night. He's a fine fellow and is ready +to do anything for Rose Andrée. He's right. A man must do anything for +the woman he loves. He must devote himself to her, offer her all that is +beautiful in this world: joy and happiness ... and, if she should be bored, +stirring adventures to distract her, to excite her and to make her smile +... or even weep." + +Hortense shivered; and her eyes were not quite free from tears. For the +first time he was alluding to the sentimental adventure that bound them by +a tie which as yet was frail, but which became stronger and more enduring +with each of the ventures on which they entered together, pursuing them +feverishly and anxiously to their close. Already she felt powerless and +uneasy with this extraordinary man, who subjected events to his will and +seemed to play with the destinies of those whom he fought or protected. He +filled her with dread and at the same time he attracted her. She thought of +him sometimes as her master, sometimes as an enemy against whom she must +defend herself, but oftenest as a perturbing friend, full of charm and +fascination.... + + + + +V + +THÉRÈSE AND GERMAINE + + +The weather was so mild that autumn that, on the 12th of October, in the +morning, several families still lingering in their villas at Étretat had +gone down to the beach. The sea, lying between the cliffs and the clouds on +the horizon, might have suggested a mountain-lake slumbering in the hollow +of the enclosing rocks, were it not for that crispness in the air and those +pale, soft and indefinite colours in the sky which give a special charm to +certain days in Normandy. + +"It's delicious," murmured Hortense. But the next moment she added: "All +the same, we did not come here to enjoy the spectacle of nature or to +wonder whether that huge stone Needle on our left was really at one time +the home of Arsène Lupin." + +"We came here," said Prince Rénine, "because of the conversation which I +overheard, a fortnight ago, in a dining-car, between a man and a woman." + +"A conversation of which I was unable to catch a single word." + +"If those two people could have guessed for an instant that it was possible +to hear a single word of what they were saying, they would not have spoken, +for their conversation was one of extraordinary gravity and importance. But +I have very sharp ears; and though I could not follow every sentence, I +insist that we may be certain of two things. First, that man and woman, who +are brother and sister, have an appointment at a quarter to twelve this +morning, the 12th of October, at the spot known as the Trois Mathildes, +with a third person, who is married and who wishes at all costs to recover +his or her liberty. Secondly, this appointment, at which they will come +to a final agreement, is to be followed this evening by a walk along the +cliffs, when the third person will bring with him or her the man or woman, +I can't definitely say which, whom they want to get rid of. That is the +gist of the whole thing. Now, as I know a spot called the Trois Mathildes +some way above Étretat and as this is not an everyday name, we came down +yesterday to thwart the plan of these objectionable persons." + +"What plan?" asked Hortense. "For, after all, it's only your assumption +that there's to be a victim and that the victim is to be flung off the +top of the cliffs. You yourself told me that you heard no allusion to a +possible murder." + +"That is so. But I heard some very plain words relating to the marriage of +the brother or the sister with the wife or the husband of the third person, +which implies the need for a crime." + +They were sitting on the terrace of the casino, facing the stairs which run +down to the beach. They therefore overlooked the few privately-owned cabins +on the shingle, where a party of four men were playing bridge, while a +group of ladies sat talking and knitting. + +A short distance away and nearer to the sea was another cabin, standing by +itself and closed. + +Half-a-dozen bare-legged children were paddling in the water. + +"No," said Hortense, "all this autumnal sweetness and charm fails to +attract me. I have so much faith in all your theories that I can't help +thinking, in spite of everything, of this dreadful problem. Which of those +people yonder is threatened? Death has already selected its victim. Who is +it? Is it that young, fair-haired woman, rocking herself and laughing? Is +it that tall man over there, smoking his cigar? And which of them has the +thought of murder hidden in his heart? All the people we see are quietly +enjoying themselves. Yet death is prowling among them." + +"Capital!" said Rénine. "You too are becoming enthusiastic. What did I tell +you? The whole of life's an adventure; and nothing but adventure is worth +while. At the first breath of coming events, there you are, quivering in +every nerve. You share in all the tragedies stirring around you; and the +feeling of mystery awakens in the depths of your being. See, how closely +you are observing that couple who have just arrived. You never can tell: +that may be the gentleman who proposes to do away with his wife? Or perhaps +the lady contemplates making away with her husband?" + +"The d'Ormevals? Never! A perfectly happy couple! Yesterday, at the hotel, +I had a long talk with the wife. And you yourself...." + +"Oh, I played a round of golf with Jacques d'Ormeval, who rather fancies +himself as an athlete, and I played at dolls with their two charming little +girls!" + +The d'Ormevals came up and exchanged a few words with them. Madame +d'Ormeval said that her two daughters had gone back to Paris that morning +with their governess. Her husband, a great tall fellow with a yellow beard, +carrying his blazer over his arm and puffing out his chest under a cellular +shirt, complained of the heat: + +"Have you the key of the cabin, Thérèse?" he asked his wife, when they had +left Rénine and Hortense and stopped at the top of the stairs, a few yards +away. + +"Here it is," said the wife. "Are you going to read your papers?" + +"Yes. Unless we go for a stroll?..." + +"I had rather wait till the afternoon: do you mind? I have a lot of letters +to write this morning." + +"Very well. We'll go on the cliff." + +Hortense and Rénine exchanged a glance of surprise. Was this suggestion +accidental? Or had they before them, contrary to their expectations, the +very couple of whom they were in search? + +Hortense tried to laugh: + +"My heart is thumping," she said. "Nevertheless, I absolutely refuse to +believe in anything so improbable. 'My husband and I have never had the +slightest quarrel,' she said to me. No, it's quite clear that those two get +on admirably." + +"We shall see presently, at the Trois Mathildes, if one of them comes to +meet the brother and sister." + +M. d'Ormeval had gone down the stairs, while his wife stood leaning on the +balustrade of the terrace. She had a beautiful, slender, supple figure. Her +clear-cut profile was emphasized by a rather too prominent chin when at +rest; and, when it was not smiling, the face gave an expression of sadness +and suffering. + +"Have you lost something, Jacques?" she called out to her husband, who was +stooping over the shingle. + +"Yes, the key," he said. "It slipped out of my hand." + +She went down to him and began to look also. For two or three minutes, +as they sheered off to the right and remained close to the bottom of the +under-cliff, they were invisible to Hortense and Rénine. Their voices were +covered by the noise of a dispute which had arisen among the +bridge-players. + +They reappeared almost simultaneously. Madame d'Ormeval slowly climbed a +few steps of the stairs and then stopped and turned her face towards the +sea. Her husband had thrown his blazer over his shoulders and was making +for the isolated cabin. As he passed the bridge-players, they asked him for +a decision, pointing to their cards spread out upon the table. But, with a +wave of the hand, he refused to give an opinion and walked on, covered the +thirty yards which divided them from the cabin, opened the door and went +in. + +Thérèse d'Ormeval came back to the terrace and remained for ten minutes +sitting on a bench. Then she came out through the casino. Hortense, on +leaning forward, saw her entering one of the chalets annexed to the Hôtel +Hauville and, a moment later, caught sight of her again on the balcony. + +"Eleven o'clock," said Rénine. "Whoever it is, he or she, or one of the +card-players, or one of their wives, it won't be long before some one goes +to the appointed place." + +Nevertheless, twenty minutes passed and twenty-five; and no one stirred. + +"Perhaps Madame d'Ormeval has gone." Hortense suggested, anxiously. "She is +no longer on her balcony." + +"If she is at the Trois Mathildes," said Rénine, "we will go and catch her +there." + +He was rising to his feet, when a fresh discussion broke out among the +bridge-players and one of them exclaimed: + +"Let's put it to d'Ormeval." + +"Very well," said his adversary. "I'll accept his decision ... if he +consents to act as umpire. He was rather huffy just now." + +They called out: + +"D'Ormeval! D'Ormeval!" + +They then saw that d'Ormeval must have shut the door behind him, which kept +him in the half dark, the cabin being one of the sort that has no window. + +"He's asleep," cried one. "Let's wake him up." + +All four went to the cabin, began by calling to him and, on receiving no +answer, thumped on the door: + +"Hi! D'Ormeval! Are you asleep?" + +On the terrace Serge Rénine suddenly leapt to his feet with so uneasy an +air that Hortense was astonished. He muttered: + +"If only it's not too late!" + +And, when Hortense asked him what he meant, he tore down the steps and +started running to the cabin. He reached it just as the bridge-players were +trying to break in the door: + +"Stop!" he ordered. "Things must be done in the regular fashion." + +"What things?" they asked. + +He examined the Venetian shutters at the top of each of the folding-doors +and, on finding that one of the upper slats was partly broken, hung on as +best he could to the roof of the cabin and cast a glance inside. Then he +said to the four men: + +"I was right in thinking that, if M. d'Ormeval did not reply, he must have +been prevented by some serious cause. There is every reason to believe that +M. d'Ormeval is wounded ... or dead." + +"Dead!" they cried. "What do you mean? He has only just left us." + +Rénine took out his knife, prized open the lock and pulled back the two +doors. + +There were shouts of dismay. M. d'Ormeval was lying flat on his face, +clutching his jacket and his newspaper in his hands. Blood was flowing +from his back and staining his shirt. + +"Oh!" said some one. "He has killed himself!" + +"How can he have killed himself?" said Rénine. "The wound is right in the +middle of the back, at a place which the hand can't reach. And, besides, +there's not a knife in the cabin." + +The others protested: + +"If so, he has been murdered. But that's impossible! There has been nobody +here. We should have seen, if there had been. Nobody could have passed us +without our seeing...." + +The other men, all the ladies and the children paddling in the sea had come +running up. Rénine allowed no one to enter the cabin, except a doctor who +was present. But the doctor could only say that M. d'Ormeval was dead, +stabbed with a dagger. + +At that moment, the mayor and the policeman arrived, together with some +people of the village. After the usual enquiries, they carried away the +body. + +A few persons went on ahead to break the news to Thérèse d'Ormeval, who was +once more to be seen on her balcony. + + * * * * * + +And so the tragedy had taken place without any clue to explain how a man, +protected by a closed door with an uninjured lock, could have been murdered +in the space of a few minutes and in front of twenty witnesses, one might +almost say, twenty spectators. No one had entered the cabin. No one had +come out of it. As for the dagger with which M. d'Ormeval had been stabbed +between the shoulders, it could not be traced. And all this would have +suggested the idea of a trick of sleight-of-hand performed by a clever +conjuror, had it not concerned a terrible murder, committed under the most +mysterious conditions. + +Hortense was unable to follow, as Rénine would have liked, the small party +who were making for Madame d'Ormeval; she was paralysed with excitement and +incapable of moving. It was the first time that her adventures with Rénine +had taken her into the very heart of the action and that, instead of noting +the consequences of a murder, or assisting in the pursuit of the criminals, +she found herself confronted with the murder itself. + +It left her trembling all over; and she stammered: "How horrible!... The +poor fellow!... Ah, Rénine, you couldn't save him this time!... And that's +what upsets me more than anything, that we could and should have saved him, +since we knew of the plot...." + +Rénine made her sniff at a bottle of salts; and when she had quite +recovered her composure, he said, while observing her attentively: + +"So you think that there is some connection between the murder and the +plot which we were trying to frustrate?" + +"Certainly," said she, astonished at the question. + +"Then, as that plot was hatched by a husband against his wife or by a wife +against her husband, you admit that Madame d'Ormeval ...?" + +"Oh, no, impossible!" she said. "To begin with, Madame d'Ormeval did not +leave her rooms ... and then I shall never believe that pretty woman +capable.... No, no, of course there was something else...." + +"What else?" + +"I don't know.... You may have misunderstood what the brother and sister +were saying to each other.... You see, the murder has been committed under +quite different conditions ... at another hour and another place...." + +"And therefore," concluded Rénine, "the two cases are not in any way +related?" + +"Oh," she said, "there's no making it out! It's all so strange!" + +Rénine became a little satirical: + +"My pupil is doing me no credit to-day," he said. "Why, here is a perfectly +simple story, unfolded before your eyes. You have seen it reeled off like +a scene in the cinema; and it all remains as obscure to you as though you +were hearing of an affair that happened in a cave a hundred miles away!" + +Hortense was confounded: + +"What are you saying? Do you mean that you have understood it? What clues +have you to go by?" + +Rénine looked at his watch: + +"I have not understood everything," he said. "The murder itself, the mere +brutal murder, yes. But the essential thing, that is to say, the psychology +of the crime: I've no clue to that. Only, it is twelve o'clock. The brother +and sister, seeing no one come to the appointment at the Trois Mathildes, +will go down to the beach. Don't you think that we shall learn something +then of the accomplice whom I accuse them of having and of the connection +between the two cases?" + +They reached the esplanade in front of the Hauville chalets, with the +capstans by which the fishermen haul up their boats to the beach. A number +of inquisitive persons were standing outside the door of one of the +chalets. Two coastguards, posted at the door, prevented them from entering. + +The mayor shouldered his way eagerly through the crowd. He was back from +the post-office, where he had been telephoning to Le Havre, to the office +of the procurator-general, and had been told that the public prosecutor +and an examining-magistrate would come on to Étretat in the course of the +afternoon. + +"That leaves us plenty of time for lunch," said Rénine. "The tragedy will +not be enacted before two or three o'clock. And I have an idea that it will +be sensational." + +They hurried nevertheless. Hortense, overwrought by fatigue and her desire +to know what was happening, continually questioned Rénine, who replied +evasively, with his eyes turned to the esplanade, which they could see +through the windows of the coffee-room. + +"Are you watching for those two?" asked Hortense. + +"Yes, the brother and sister." + +"Are you sure that they will venture?..." + +"Look out! Here they come!" + +He went out quickly. + +Where the main street opened on the sea-front, a lady and gentleman were +advancing with hesitating steps, as though unfamiliar with the place. The +brother was a puny little man, with a sallow complexion. He was wearing a +motoring-cap. The sister too was short, but rather stout, and was wrapped +in a large cloak. She struck them as a woman of a certain age, but still +good-looking under the thin veil that covered her face. + +They saw the groups of bystanders and drew nearer. Their gait betrayed +uneasiness and hesitation. + +The sister asked a question of a seaman. At the first words of his answer, +which no doubt conveyed the news of d'Ormeval's death, she uttered a cry +and tried to force her way through the crowd. The brother, learning in his +turn what had happened, made great play with his elbows and shouted to the +coast-guards: + +"I'm a friend of d'Ormeval's!... Here's my card! Frédéric Astaing.... My +sister, Germaine Astaing, knows Madame d'Ormeval intimately!... They were +expecting us.... We had an appointment!..." + +They were allowed to pass. Rénine, who had slipped behind them, followed +them in without a word, accompanied by Hortense. + +The d'Ormevals had four bedrooms and a sitting-room on the second floor. +The sister rushed into one of the rooms and threw herself on her knees +beside the bed on which the corpse lay stretched. Thérèse d'Ormeval was in +the sitting-room and was sobbing in the midst of a small company of silent +persons. The brother sat down beside her, eagerly seized her hands and +said, in a trembling voice: + +"My poor friend!... My poor friend!..." + +Rénine and Hortense gazed at the pair of them: and Hortense whispered: + +"And she's supposed to have killed him for that? Impossible!" + +"Nevertheless," observed Rénine, "they are acquaintances; and we know that +Astaing and his sister were also acquainted with a third person who was +their accomplice. So that...." + +"It's impossible!" Hortense repeated. + +And, in spite of all presumption, she felt so much attracted by Thérèse +that, when Frédéric Astaing stood up, she proceeded straightway to sit down +beside her and consoled her in a gentle voice. The unhappy woman's tears +distressed her profoundly. + +Rénine, on the other hand, applied himself from the outset to watching +the brother and sister, as though this were the only thing that mattered, +and did not take his eyes off Frédéric Astaing, who, with an air of +indifference, began to make a minute inspection of the premises, examining +the sitting-room, going into all the bedrooms, mingling with the various +groups of persons present and asking questions about the manner in which +the murder had been committed. Twice his sister came up and spoke to him. +Then he went back to Madame d'Ormeval and again sat down beside her, full +of earnest sympathy. Lastly, in the lobby, he had a long conversation with +his sister, after which they parted, like people who have come to a perfect +understanding. Frédéric then left. These manoeuvers had lasted quite thirty +or forty minutes. + +It was at this moment that the motor-car containing the +examining-magistrate and the public prosecutor pulled up outside the +chalets. Rénine, who did not expect them until later, said to Hortense: + +"We must be quick. On no account leave Madame d'Ormeval." + +Word was sent up to the persons whose evidence might be of any service +that they were to go to the beach, where the magistrate was beginning a +preliminary investigation. He would call on Madame d'Ormeval afterwards. +Accordingly, all who were present left the chalet. No one remained behind +except the two guards and Germaine Astaing. + +Germaine knelt down for the last time beside the dead man and, bending low, +with her face in her hands, prayed for a long time. Then she rose and was +opening the door on the landing, when Rénine came forward: + +"I should like a few words with you, madame." + +She seemed surprised and replied: + +"What is it, monsieur? I am listening." + +"Not here." + +"Where then, monsieur?" + +"Next door, in the sitting-room." + +"No," she said, sharply. + +"Why not? Though you did not even shake hands with her, I presume that +Madame d'Ormeval is your friend?" + +He gave her no time to reflect, drew her into the next room, closed the +door and, at once pouncing upon Madame d'Ormeval, who was trying to go out +and return to her own room, said: + +"No, madame, listen, I implore you. Madame Astaing's presence need not +drive you away. We have very serious matters to discuss, without losing a +minute." + +The two women, standing face to face, were looking at each other with the +same expression of implacable hatred, in which might be read the same +confusion of spirit and the same restrained anger. Hortense, who believed +them to be friends and who might, up to a certain point, have believed them +to be accomplices, foresaw with terror the hostile encounter which she felt +to be inevitable. She compelled Madame d'Ormeval to resume her seat, while +Rénine took up his position in the middle of the room and spoke in resolute +tones: + +"Chance, which has placed me in possession of part of the truth, will +enable me to save you both, if you are willing to assist me with a frank +explanation that will give me the particulars which I still need. Each of +you knows the danger in which she stands, because each of you is conscious +in her heart of the evil for which she is responsible. But you are +carried away by hatred; and it is for me to see clearly and to act. The +examining-magistrate will be here in half-an-hour. By that time, you must +have come to an agreement." + +They both started, as though offended by such a word. + +"Yes, an agreement," he repeated, in a more imperious tone. "Whether you +like it or not, you will come to an agreement. You are not the only ones to +be considered. There are your two little daughters, Madame d'Ormeval. Since +circumstances have set me in their path, I am intervening in their defence +and for their safety. A blunder, a word too much; and they are ruined. That +must not happen." + +At the mention of her children, Madame d'Ormeval broke down and sobbed. +Germaine Astaing shrugged her shoulders and made a movement towards the +door. Rénine once more blocked the way: + +"Where are you going?" + +"I have been summoned by the examining-magistrate." + +"No, you have not." + +"Yes, I have. Just as all those have been who have any evidence to give." + +"You were not on the spot. You know nothing of what happened. Nobody knows +anything of the murder." + +"I know who committed it." + +"That's impossible." + +"It was Thérèse d'Ormeval." + +The accusation was hurled forth in an outburst of rage and with a fiercely +threatening gesture. + +"You wretched creature!" exclaimed madame d'Ormeval, rushing at her. "Go! +Leave the room! Oh, what a wretch the woman is!" + +Hortense was trying to restrain her, but Rénine whispered: + +"Let them be. It's what I wanted ... to pitch them one against the other +and so to let in the day-light." + +Madame Astaing had made a convulsive effort to ward off the insult with a +jest; and she sniggered: + +"A wretched creature? Why? Because I have accused you?" + +"Why? For every reason! You're a wretched creature! You hear what I say, +Germaine: you're a wretch!" + +Thérèse d'Ormeval was repeating the insult as though it afforded her some +relief. Her anger was abating. Very likely also she no longer had the +strength to keep up the struggle; and it was Madame Astaing who returned +to the attack, with her fists clenched and her face distorted and suddenly +aged by fully twenty years: + +"You! You dare to insult me, you! You after the murder you have committed! +You dare to lift up your head when the man whom you killed is lying in +there on his death-bed! Ah, if one of us is a wretched creature, it's you, +Thérèse, and you know it! You have killed your husband! You have killed +your husband!" + +She leapt forward, in the excitement of the terrible words which she was +uttering; and her finger-nails were almost touching her friend's face. + +"Oh, don't tell me you didn't kill him!" she cried. "Don't say +that: I won't let you. Don't say it. The dagger is there, in your +bag. My brother felt it, while he was talking to you; and his hand +came out with stains of blood upon it: your husband's blood, Thérèse. And +then, even if I had not discovered anything, do you think that I should not +have guessed, in the first few minutes? Why, I knew the truth at once, +Thérèse! When a sailor down there answered, 'M. d'Ormeval? He has been +murdered,' I said to myself then and there, 'It's she, it's Thérèse, she +killed him.'" + +Thérèse did not reply. She had abandoned her attitude of protest. Hortense, +who was watching her with anguish, thought that she could perceive in her +the despondency of those who know themselves to be lost. Her cheeks had +fallen in and she wore such an expression of despair that Hortense, moved +to compassion, implored her to defend herself: + +"Please, please, explain things. When the murder was committed, you were +here, on the balcony.... But then the dagger ... how did you come to have +it ...? How do you explain it?..." + +"Explanations!" sneered Germaine Astaing. "How could she possibly explain? +What do outward appearances matter? What does it matter what any one saw +or did not see? The proof is the thing that tells.... The dagger is there, +in your bag, Thérèse: that's a fact.... Yes, yes, it was you who did it! +You killed him! You killed him in the end!... Ah, how often I've told my +brother, 'She will kill him yet!' Frédéric used to try to defend you. He +always had a weakness for you. But in his innermost heart he foresaw what +would happen.... And now the horrible thing has been done. A stab in the +back! Coward! Coward!... And you would have me say nothing? Why, I didn't +hesitate a moment! Nor did Frédéric. We looked for proofs at once.... And +I've denounced you of my own free will, perfectly well aware of what I was +doing.... And it's over, Thérèse. You're done for. Nothing can save you +now. The dagger is in that bag which you are clutching in your hand. The +magistrate is coming; and the dagger will be found, stained with the blood +of your husband. So will your pocket-book. They're both there. And they +will be found...." + +Her rage had incensed her so vehemently that she was unable to continue and +stood with her hand outstretched and her chin twitching with nervous +tremors. + +Rénine gently took hold of Madame d'Ormeval's bag. She clung to it, but he +insisted and said: + +"Please allow me, madame. Your friend Germaine is right. The +examining-magistrate will be here presently; and the fact that the dagger +and the pocket-book are in your possession will lead to your immediate +arrest. This must not happen. Please allow me." + +His insinuating voice diminished Thérèse d'Ormeval's resistance. She +released her fingers, one by one. He took the bag, opened it, produced +a little dagger with an ebony handle and a grey leather pocket-book and +quietly slipped the two into the inside pocket of his jacket. + +Germaine Astaing gazed at him in amazement: "You're mad, monsieur! What +right have you ...?" + +"These things must not be left lying about. I sha'n't worry now. The +magistrate will never look for them in my pocket." + +"But I shall denounce you to the police," she exclaimed, indignantly. +"They shall be told!" + +"No, no," he said, laughing, "you won't say anything! The police have +nothing to do with this. The quarrel between you must be settled in +private. What an idea, to go dragging the police into every incident of +one's life!" + +Madame Astaing was choking with fury: + +"But you have no right to talk like this, monsieur! Who are you, after all? +A friend of that woman's?" + +"Since you have been attacking her, yes." + +"But I'm only attacking her because she's guilty. For you can't deny it: +she has killed her husband." + +"I don't deny it," said Rénine, calmly. "We are all agreed on that point. +Jacques d'Ormeval was killed by his wife. But, I repeat, the police must +not know the truth." + +"They shall know it through me, monsieur, I swear they shall. That woman +must be punished: she has committed murder." + +Rénine went up to her and, touching her on the shoulder: + +"You asked me just now by what right I was interfering. And you yourself, +madame?" + +"I was a friend of Jacques d'Ormeval." + +"Only a friend?" + +She was a little taken aback, but at once pulled herself together and +replied: + +"I was his friend and it is my duty to avenge his death." + +"Nevertheless, you will remain silent, as he did." + +"He did not know, when he died." + +"That's where you are wrong. He could have accused his wife, if he had +wished. He had ample time to accuse her; and he said nothing." + +"Why?" + +"Because of his children." + +Madame Astaing was not appeased; and her attitude displayed the same +longing for revenge and the same detestation. But she was influenced by +Rénine in spite of herself. In the small, closed room, where there was +such a clash of hatred, he was gradually becoming the master; and Germaine +Astaing understood that it was against him that she had to struggle, while +Madame d'Ormeval felt all the comfort of that unexpected support which was +offering itself on the brink of the abyss: + +"Thank you, monsieur," she said. "As you have seen all this so clearly, you +also know that it was for my children's sake that I did not give myself up. +But for that ... I am so tired ...!" + +And so the scene was changing and things assuming a different aspect. +Thanks to a few words let fall in the midst of the dispute, the culprit was +lifting her head and taking heart, whereas her accuser was hesitating and +seemed to be uneasy. And it also came about that the accuser dared not say +anything further and that the culprit was nearing the moment at which the +need is felt of breaking silence and of speaking, quite naturally, words +that are at once a confession and a relief. + +"The time, I think, has come," said Rénine to Thérèse, with the same +unvarying gentleness, "when you can and ought to explain yourself." + +She was again weeping, lying huddled in a chair. She too revealed a face +aged and ravaged by sorrow; and, in a very low voice, with no display of +anger, she spoke, in short, broken sentences: + +"She has been his mistress for the last four years.... I can't tell you how +I suffered.... She herself told me of it ... out of sheer wickedness ... +Her loathing for me was even greater than her love for Jacques ... and +every day I had some fresh injury to bear ... She would ring me up to tell +me of her appointments with my husband ... she hoped to make me suffer so +much I should end by killing myself.... I did think of it sometimes, but I +held out, for the children's sake ... Jacques was weakening. She wanted him +to get a divorce ... and little by little he began to consent ... dominated +by her and by her brother, who is slyer than she is, but quite as dangerous +... I felt all this ... Jacques was becoming harsh to me.... He had not the +courage to leave me, but I was the obstacle and he bore me a grudge.... +Heavens, the tortures I suffered!..." + +"You should have given him his liberty," cried Germaine Astaing. "A woman +doesn't kill her husband for wanting a divorce." + +Thérèse shook her head and answered: + +"I did not kill him because he wanted a divorce. If he had really wanted +it, he would have left me; and what could I have done? But your plans had +changed, Germaine; divorce was not enough for you; and it was something +else that you would have obtained from him, another, much more serious +thing which you and your brother had insisted on ... and to which he had +consented ... out of cowardice ... in spite of himself...." + +"What do you mean?" spluttered Germaine. "What other thing?" + +"My death." + +"You lie!" cried Madame Astaing. + +Thérèse did not raise her voice. She made not a movement of aversion or +indignation and simply repeated: + +"My death, Germaine. I have read your latest letters, six letters from you +which he was foolish enough to leave about in his pocket-book and which I +read last night, six letters in which the terrible word is not set down, +but in which it appears between every line. I trembled as I read it! That +Jacques should come to this!... Nevertheless the idea of stabbing him did +not occur to me for a second. A woman like myself, Germaine, does not +readily commit murder.... If I lost my head, it was after that ... and it +was your fault...." + +She turned her eyes to Rénine as if to ask him if there was no danger in +her speaking and revealing the truth. + +"Don't be afraid," he said. "I will be answerable for everything." + +She drew her hand across her forehead. The horrible scene was being +reenacted within her and was torturing her. Germaine Astaing did not move, +but stood with folded arms and anxious eyes, while Hortense Daniel sat +distractedly awaiting the confession of the crime and the explanation of +the unfathomable mystery. + +"It was after that and it was through your fault Germaine ... I had put +back the pocket-book in the drawer where it was hidden; and I said nothing +to Jacques this morning ... I did not want to tell him what I knew.... +It was too horrible.... All the same, I had to act quickly; your letters +announced your secret arrival to-day.... I thought at first of running +away, of taking the train.... I had mechanically picked up that dagger, +to defend myself.... But when Jacques and I went down to the beach, I was +resigned.... Yes, I had accepted death: 'I will die,' I thought, 'and put +an end to all this nightmare!'... Only, for the children's sake, I was +anxious that my death should look like an accident and that Jacques should +have no part in it. That was why your plan of a walk on the cliff suited +me.... A fall from the top of a cliff seems quite natural ... Jacques +therefore left me to go to his cabin, from which he was to join you later +at the Trois Mathildes. On the way, below the terrace, he dropped the key +of the cabin. I went down and began to look for it with him ... And it +happened then ... through your fault ... yes, Germaine, through your fault +... Jacques' pocket-book had slipped from his jacket, without his noticing +it, and, together with the pocket-book, a photograph which I recognized +at once: a photograph, taken this year, of myself and my two children. I +picked it up ... and I saw.... You know what I saw, Germaine. Instead of my +face, the face in the photograph was _yours_!... You had put in your +likeness, Germaine, and blotted me out! It was your face! One of your arms +was round my elder daughter's neck; and the younger was sitting on your +knees.... It was you, Germaine, the wife of my husband, the future mother +of my children, you, who were going to bring them up ... you, you! ... Then +I lost my head. I had the dagger ... Jacques was stooping ... I stabbed +him...." + +Every word of her confession was strictly true. Those who listened to her +felt this profoundly; and nothing could have given Hortense and Rénine a +keener impression of tragedy. + +She had fallen back into her chair, utterly exhausted. Nevertheless, she +went on speaking unintelligible words; and it was only gradually by leaning +over her, that they were able to make out: + +"I thought that there would be an outcry and that I should be arrested. But +no. It happened in such a way and under such conditions that no one had +seen anything. Further, Jacques had drawn himself up at the same time as +myself; and he actually did not fall. No, he did not fall! I had stabbed +him; and he remained standing! I saw him from the terrace, to which I had +returned. He had hung his jacket over his shoulders, evidently to hide his +wound, and he moved away without staggering ... or staggering so little +that I alone was able to perceive it. He even spoke to some friends who +were playing cards. Then he went to his cabin and disappeared.... In a few +moments, I came back indoors. I was persuaded that all of this was only a +bad dream ... that I had not killed him ... or that at the worst the wound +was a slight one. Jacques would come out again. I was certain of it.... I +watched from my balcony.... If I had thought for a moment that he needed +assistance, I should have flown to him.... But truly I didn't know ... I +didn't guess.... People speak of presentiments: there are no such things. I +was perfectly calm, just as one is after a nightmare of which the memory is +fading away.... No, I swear to you, I knew nothing ... until the moment..." + +She interrupted herself, stifled by sobs. + +Rénine finished her sentence for her, + +"Until the moment when they came and told you, I suppose?" + +Thérèse stammered: + +"Yes. It was not till then that I was conscious of what I had done ... and +I felt that I was going mad and that I should cry out to all those people, +'Why, it was I who did it! Don't search! Here is the dagger ... I am the +culprit!' Yes, I was going to say that, when suddenly I caught sight of +my poor Jacques.... They were carrying him along.... His face was very +peaceful, very gentle.... And, in his presence, I understood my duty, as he +had understood his.... He had kept silent, for the sake of the children. +I would be silent too. We were both guilty of the murder of which he was +the victim; and we must both do all we could to prevent the crime from +recoiling upon them.... He had seen this clearly in his dying agony. He +had had the amazing courage to keep his feet, to answer the people who +spoke to him and to lock himself up to die. He had done this, wiping out +all his faults with a single action, and in so doing had granted me his +forgiveness, because he was not accusing me ... and was ordering me to hold +my peace ... and to defend myself ... against everybody ... especially +against you, Germaine." + +She uttered these last words more firmly. At first wholly overwhelmed by +the unconscious act which she had committed in killing her husband, she +had recovered her strength a little in thinking of what she had done and +in defending herself with such energy. Faced by the intriguing woman whose +hatred had driven both of them to death and crime, she clenched her fists, +ready for the struggle, all quivering with resolution. + +Germaine Astaing did not flinch. She had listened without a word, with a +relentless expression which grew harder and harder as Thérèse's confessions +became precise. No emotion seemed to soften her and no remorse to penetrate +her being. At most, towards the end, her thin lips shaped themselves into a +faint smile. She was holding her prey in her clutches. + +Slowly, with her eyes raised to a mirror, she adjusted her hat and powdered +her face. Then she walked to the door. + +Thérèse darted forward: + +"Where are you going?" + +"Where I choose." + +"To see the examining-magistrate?" + +"Very likely." + +"You sha'n't pass!" + +"As you please. I'll wait for him here." + +"And you'll tell him what?" + +"Why, all that you've said, of course, all that you've been silly enough +to say. How could he doubt the story? You have explained it all to me so +fully." + +Thérèse took her by the shoulders: + +"Yes, but I'll explain other things to him at the same time, Germaine, +things that concern you. If I'm ruined, so shall you be." + +"You can't touch me." + +"I can expose you, show your letters." + +"What letters?" + +"Those in which my death was decided on." + +"Lies, Thérèse! You know that famous plot exists only in your imagination. +Neither Jacques nor I wished for your death." + +"You did, at any rate. Your letters condemn you." + +"Lies! They were the letters of a friend to a friend." + +"Letters of a mistress to her paramour." + +"Prove it." + +"They are there, in Jacques' pocket-book." + +"No, they're not." + +"What's that you say?" + +"I say that those letters belonged to me. I've taken them back, or rather +my brother has." + +"You've stolen them, you wretch! And you shall give them back again," cried +Thérèse, shaking her. + +"I haven't them. My brother kept them. He has gone." + +Thérèse staggered and stretched out her hands to Rénine with an expression +of despair. Rénine said: + +"What she says is true. I watched the brother's proceedings while he was +feeling in your bag. He took out the pocket-book, looked through it with +his sister, came and put it back again and went off with the letters." + +Rénine paused and added, + +"Or, at least, with five of them." + +The two women moved closer to him. What did he intend to convey? If +Frédéric Astaing had taken away only five letters, what had become of the +sixth? + +"I suppose," said Rénine, "that, when the pocket-book fell on the shingle, +that sixth letter slipped out at the same time as the photograph and that +M. d'Ormeval must have picked it up, for I found it in the pocket of his +blazer, which had been hung up near the bed. Here it is. It's signed +Germaine Astaing and it is quite enough to prove the writer's intentions +and the murderous counsels which she was pressing upon her lover." + +Madame Astaing had turned grey in the face and was so much disconcerted +that she did not try to defend herself. Rénine continued, addressing his +remarks to her: + +"To my mind, madame, you are responsible for all that happened. Penniless, +no doubt, and at the end of your resources, you tried to profit by the +passion with which you inspired M. d'Ormeval in order to make him marry +you, in spite of all the obstacles, and to lay your hands upon his fortune. +I have proofs of this greed for money and these abominable calculations and +can supply them if need be. A few minutes after I had felt in the pocket of +that jacket, you did the same. I had removed the sixth letter, but had left +a slip of paper which you looked for eagerly and which also must have +dropped out of the pocket-book. It was an uncrossed cheque for a hundred +thousand francs, drawn by M. d'Ormeval in your brother's name ... just a +little wedding-present ... what we might call pin-money. Acting on your +instructions, your brother dashed off by motor to Le Havre to reach the +bank before four o'clock. I may as well tell you that he will not have +cashed the cheque, for I had a telephone-message sent to the bank to +announce the murder of M. d'Ormeval, which stops all payments. The upshot +of all this is that the police, if you persist in your schemes of revenge, +will have in their hands all the proofs that are wanted against you and +your brother. I might add, as an edifying piece of evidence, the story of +the conversation which I overheard between your brother and yourself in a +dining-car on the railway between Brest and Paris, a fortnight ago. But I +feel sure that you will not drive me to adopt these extreme measures and +that we understand each other. Isn't that so?" + +Natures like Madame Astaing's, which are violent and headstrong so long as +a fight is possible and while a gleam of hope remains, are easily swayed in +defeat. Germaine was too intelligent not to grasp the fact that the least +attempt at resistance would be shattered by such an adversary as this. She +was in his hands. She could but yield. + +She therefore did not indulge in any play-acting, nor in any demonstration +such as threats, outbursts of fury or hysterics. She bowed: + +"We are agreed," she said. "What are your terms?" + +"Go away. If ever you are called upon for your evidence, say that you know +nothing." + +She walked away. At the door, she hesitated and then, between her teeth, +said: + +"The cheque." + +Rénine looked at Madame d'Ormeval, who declared: + +"Let her keep it. I would not touch that money." + + * * * * * + +When Rénine had given Thérèse d'Ormeval precise instructions as to how she +was to behave at the enquiry and to answer the questions put to her, he +left the chalet, accompanied by Hortense Daniel. + +On the beach below, the magistrate and the public prosecutor were +continuing their investigations, taking measurements, examining the +witnesses and generally laying their heads together. + +"When I think," said Hortense, "that you have the dagger and M. d'Ormeval's +pocket-book on you!" + +"And it strikes you as awfully dangerous, I suppose?" he said, laughing. +"It strikes _me_ as awfully comic." + +"Aren't you afraid?" + +"Of what?" + +"That they may suspect something?" + +"Lord, they won't suspect a thing! We shall tell those good people what +we saw and our evidence will only increase their perplexity, for we saw +nothing at all. For prudence sake we will stay a day or two, to see which +way the wind is blowing. But it's quite settled: they will never be able to +make head or tail of the matter." + +"Nevertheless, _you_ guessed the secret and from the first. Why?" + +"Because, instead of seeking difficulties where none exist, as people +generally do, I always put the question as it should be put; and the +solution comes quite naturally. A man goes to his cabin and locks himself +in. Half an hour later, he is found inside, dead. No one has gone in. What +has happened? To my mind there is only one answer. There is no need to +think about it. As the murder was not committed in the cabin, it must have +been committed beforehand and the man was already mortally wounded when +he entered his cabin. And forthwith the truth in this particular case +appeared to me. Madame d'Ormeval, who was to have been killed this evening, +forestalled her murderers and while her husband was stooping to the ground, +in a moment of frenzy stabbed him in the back. There was nothing left to do +but look for the reasons that prompted her action. When I knew them, I took +her part unreservedly. That's the whole story." + +The day was beginning to wane. The blue of the sky was becoming darker and +the sea, even more peaceful than before. + +"What are you thinking of?" asked Rénine, after a moment. + +"I am thinking," she said, "that if I too were the victim of some +machination, I should trust you whatever happened, trust you through and +against all. I know, as certainly as I know that I exist, that you would +save me, whatever the obstacles might be. There is no limit to the power +of your will." + +He said, very softly: + +"There is no limit to my wish to please you." + + + + +VI + +THE LADY WITH THE HATCHET + + +One of the most incomprehensible incidents that preceded the great war +was certainly the one which was known as the episode of the lady with the +hatchet. The solution of the mystery was unknown and would never have +been known, had not circumstances in the cruellest fashion obliged Prince +Rénine--or should I say, Arsène Lupin?--to take up the matter and had I not +been able to-day to tell the true story from the details supplied by him. + +Let me recite the facts. In a space of eighteen months, five women +disappeared, five women of different stations in life, all between twenty +and thirty years of age and living in Paris or the Paris district. + +I will give their names: Madame Ladoue, the wife of a doctor; Mlle. Ardant, +the daughter of a banker; Mlle. Covereau, a washer-woman of Courbevoie; +Mlle. Honorine Vernisset, a dressmaker; and Madame Grollinger, an artist. +These five women disappeared without the possibility of discovering a +single particular to explain why they had left their homes, why they did +not return to them, who had enticed them away, and where and how they were +detained. + +Each of these women, a week after her departure, was found somewhere or +other in the western outskirts of Paris; and each time it was a dead body +that was found, the dead body of a woman who had been killed by a blow on +the head from a hatchet. And each time, not far from the woman, who was +firmly bound, her face covered with blood and her body emaciated by lack of +food, the marks of carriage-wheels proved that the corpse had been driven +to the spot. + +The five murders were so much alike that there was only a single +investigation, embracing all the five enquiries and, for that matter, +leading to no result. A woman disappeared; a week later, to a day, her body +was discovered; and that was all. The bonds that fastened her were similar +in each case; so were the tracks left by the wheels; so were the blows of +the hatchet, all of which were struck vertically at the top and right in +the middle of the forehead. + +The motive of the crime? The five women had been completely stripped of +their jewels, purses and other objects of value. But the robberies might +well have been attributed to marauders or any passersby, since the bodies +were lying in deserted spots. Were the authorities to believe in the +execution of a plan of revenge or of a plan intended to do away with the +series of persons mutually connected, persons, for instance, likely to +benefit by a future inheritance? Here again the same obscurity prevailed. +Theories were built up, only to be demolished forthwith by an examination +of the facts. Trails were followed and at once abandoned. + +And suddenly there was a sensation. A woman engaged in sweeping the roads +picked up on the pavement a little note-book which she brought to the local +police-station. The leaves of this note-book were all blank, excepting +one, on which was written a list of the murdered women, with their names +set down in order of date and accompanied by three figures: Ladoue, 132; +Vernisset, 118; and so on. + +Certainly no importance would have been attached to these entries, which +anybody might have written, since every one was acquainted with the +sinister list. But, instead of five names, it included six! Yes, below +the words "Grollinger, 128," there appeared "Williamson, 114." Did this +indicate a sixth murder? + +The obviously English origin of the name limited the field of the +investigations, which did not in fact take long. It was ascertained that, +a fortnight ago, a Miss Hermione Williamson, a governess in a family at +Auteuil, had left her place to go back to England and that, since then, her +sisters, though she had written to tell them that she was coming over, had +heard no more of her. + +A fresh enquiry was instituted. A postman found the body in the Meudon +woods. Miss Williamson's skull was split down the middle. + +I need not describe the public excitement at this stage nor the shudder +of horror which passed through the crowd when it read this list, written +without a doubt in the murderer's own hand. What could be more frightful +than such a record, kept up to date like a careful tradesman's ledger: + +"On such a day, I killed so-and-so; on such a day so-and-so!" + +And the sum total was six dead bodies. + +Against all expectation, the experts in handwriting had no difficulty in +agreeing and unanimously declared that the writing was "that of a woman, an +educated woman, possessing artistic tastes, imagination and an extremely +sensitive nature." The "lady with the hatchet," as the journalists +christened her, was decidedly no ordinary person; and scores of +newspaper-articles made a special study of her case, exposing her mental +condition and losing themselves in far-fetched explanations. + +Nevertheless it was the writer of one of these articles, a young journalist +whose chance discovery made him the centre of public attention, who +supplied the one element of truth and shed upon the darkness the only ray +of light that was to penetrate it. In casting about for the meaning of the +figures which followed the six names, he had come to ask himself whether +those figures did not simply represent the number of the days separating +one crime from the next. All that he had to do was to check the dates. He +at once found that his theory was correct. Mlle. Vernisset had been carried +off one hundred and thirty-two days after Madame Ladoue; Mlle. Covereau one +hundred and eighteen days after Honorine Vernisset; and so on. + +There was therefore no room for doubt; and the police had no choice but to +accept a solution which so precisely fitted the circumstances: the figures +corresponded with the intervals. There was no mistake in the records of the +lady with the hatchet. + +But then one deduction became inevitable. Miss Williamson, the latest +victim, had been carried off on the 26th of June last, and her name was +followed by the figures 114: was it not to be presumed that a fresh crime +would be committed a hundred and fourteen days later, that is to say, on +the 18th of October? Was it not probable that the horrible business would +be repeated in accordance with the murderer's secret intentions? Were they +not bound to pursue to its logical conclusion the argument which ascribed +to the figures--to all the figures, to the last as well as to the +others--their value as eventual dates? + +Now it was precisely this deduction which was drawn and was being weighed +and discussed during the few days that preceded the 18th of October, +when logic demanded the performance of yet another act of the abominable +tragedy. And it was only natural that, on the morning of that day, Prince +Rénine and Hortense, when making an appointment by telephone for the +evening, should allude to the newspaper-articles which they had both been +reading: + +"Look out!" said Rénine, laughing. "If you meet the lady with the hatchet, +take the other side of the road!" + +"And, if the good lady carries me off, what am I to do?" + +"Strew your path with little white pebbles and say, until the very moment +when the hatchet flashes in the air, 'I have nothing to fear; _he_ +will save me.' _He_ is myself ... and I kiss your hands. Till this +evening, my dear." + +That afternoon, Rénine had an appointment with Rose Andrée and Dalbrèque to +arrange for their departure for the States. [Footnote: See _The Tell-tale +Film_.] Before four and seven o'clock, he bought the different editions +of the evening papers. None of them reported an abduction. + +At nine o'clock he went to the Gymnase, where he had taken a private box. + +At half-past nine, as Hortense had not arrived, he rang her up, though +without thought of anxiety. The maid replied that Madame Daniel had not +come in yet. + +Seized with a sudden fear, Rénine hurried to the furnished flat which +Hortense was occupying for the time being, near the Parc Monceau, and +questioned the maid, whom he had engaged for her and who was completely +devoted to him. The woman said that her mistress had gone out at two +o'clock, with a stamped letter in her hand, saying that she was going to +the post and that she would come back to dress. This was the last that had +been seen of her. + +"To whom was the letter addressed?" + +"To you, sir. I saw the writing on the envelope: Prince Serge Rénine." + +He waited until midnight, but in vain. Hortense did not return; nor did she +return next day. + +"Not a word to any one," said Rénine to the maid. "Say that your mistress +is in the country and that you are going to join her." + +For his own part, he had not a doubt: Hortense's disappearance was +explained by the very fact of the date, the 18th of October. She was the +seventh victim of the lady with the hatchet. + + * * * * * + +"The abduction," said Rénine to himself, "precedes the blow of the hatchet +by a week. I have, therefore, at the present moment, seven full days before +me. Let us say six, to avoid any surprise. This is Saturday: Hortense must +be set free by mid-day on Friday; and, to make sure of this, I must know +her hiding-place by nine o'clock on Thursday evening at latest." + +Rénine wrote, "THURSDAY EVENING, NINE O'CLOCK," in big letters, on a card +which he nailed above the mantelpiece in his study. Then at midday on +Saturday, the day after the disappearance, he locked himself into the +study, after telling his man not to disturb him except for meals and +letters. + +He spent four days there, almost without moving. He had immediately sent +for a set of all the leading newspapers which had spoken in detail of the +first six crimes. When he had read and reread them, he closed the shutters, +drew the curtains and lay down on the sofa in the dark, with the door +bolted, thinking. + +By Tuesday evening he was no further advanced than on the Saturday. The +darkness was as dense as ever. He had not discovered the smallest clue for +his guidance, nor could he see the slightest reason to hope. + +At times, notwithstanding his immense power of self-control and his +unlimited confidence in the resources at his disposal, at times he would +quake with anguish. Would he arrive in time? There was no reason why he +should see more clearly during the last few days than during those which +had already elapsed. And this meant that Hortense Daniel would inevitably +be murdered. + +The thought tortured him. He was attached to Hortense by a much stronger +and deeper feeling than the appearance of the relations between them would +have led an onlooker to believe. The curiosity at the beginning, the first +desire, the impulse to protect Hortense, to distract her, to inspire her +with a relish for existence: all this had simply turned to love. Neither of +them was aware of it, because they barely saw each other save at critical +times when they were occupied with the adventures of others and not with +their own. But, at the first onslaught of danger, Rénine realized the place +which Hortense had taken in his life and he was in despair at knowing her +to be a prisoner and a martyr and at being unable to save her. + +He spent a feverish, agitated night, turning the case over and over from +every point of view. The Wednesday morning was also a terrible time for +him. He was losing ground. Giving up his hermit-like seclusion, he threw +open the windows and paced to and fro through his rooms, ran out into the +street and came in again, as though fleeing before the thought that +obsessed him: + +"Hortense is suffering.... Hortense is in the depths.... She sees the +hatchet.... She is calling to me.... She is entreating me.... And I can do +nothing...." + +It was at five o'clock in the afternoon that, on examining the list of the +six names, he received that little inward shock which is a sort of signal +of the truth that is being sought for. A light shot through his mind. It +was not, to be sure, that brilliant light in which every detail is made +plain, but it was enough to tell him in which direction to move. + +His plan of campaign was formed at once. He sent Adolphe, his chauffeur, +to the principal newspapers, with a few lines which were to appear in type +among the next morning's advertisements. Adolphe was also told to go to the +laundry at Courbevoie, where Mlle. Covereau, the second of the six victims, +had been employed. + +On the Thursday, Rénine did not stir out of doors. In the afternoon, he +received several letters in reply to his advertisement. Then two telegrams +arrived. Lastly, at three o'clock, there came a pneumatic letter, bearing +the Trocadéro postmark, which seemed to be what he was expecting. + +He turned up a directory, noted an address--"M. de Lourtier-Vaneau, retired +colonial governor, 47 _bis_, Avenue Kléber"--and ran down to his car: + +"Adolphe, 47 _bis_, Avenue Kléber." + + * * * * * + +He was shown into a large study furnished with magnificent book-cases +containing old volumes in costly bindings. M. de Lourtier-Vaneau was a man +still in the prime of life, wearing a slightly grizzled beard and, by his +affable manners and genuine distinction, commanding confidence and liking. + +"M. de Lourtier," said Rénine, "I have ventured to call on your excellency +because I read in last year's newspapers that you used to know one of the +victims of the lady with the hatchet, Honorine Vernisset." + +"Why, of course we knew her!" cried M. de Lourtier. "My wife used to employ +her as a dressmaker by the day. Poor girl!" + +"M. de Lourtier, a lady of my acquaintance has disappeared as the other six +victims disappeared. + +"What!" exclaimed M. de Lourtier, with a start. "But I have followed the +newspapers carefully. There was nothing on the 18th of October." + +"Yes, a woman of whom I am very fond, Madame Hortense Daniel, was abducted +on the 17th of October." + +"And this is the 22nd!" + +"Yes; and the murder will be committed on the 24th." + +"Horrible! Horrible! It must be prevented at all costs...." + +"And I shall perhaps succeed in preventing it, with your excellency's +assistance." + +"But have you been to the police?" + +"No. We are faced by mysteries which are, so to speak, absolute and +compact, which offer no gap through which the keenest eyes can see and +which it is useless to hope to clear up by ordinary methods, such as +inspection of the scenes of the crimes, police enquiries, searching for +finger-prints and so on. As none of those proceedings served any good +purpose in the previous cases, it would be waste of time to resort to them +in a seventh, similar case. An enemy who displays such skill and subtlety +would not leave behind her any of those clumsy traces which are the first +things that a professional detective seizes upon." + +"Then what have you done?" + +"Before taking any action, I have reflected. I gave four days to thinking +the matter over." + +M. de Lourtier-Vaneau examined his visitor closely and, with a touch of +irony, asked: + +"And the result of your meditations ...?" + +"To begin with," said Rénine, refusing to be put out of countenance, "I +have submitted all these cases to a comprehensive survey, which hitherto +no one else had done. This enabled me to discover their general meaning, +to put aside all the tangle of embarrassing theories and, since no one was +able to agree as to the motives of all this filthy business, to attribute +it to the only class of persons capable of it." + +"That is to say?" + +"Lunatics, your excellency." + +M. de Lourtier-Vaneau started: + +"Lunatics? What an idea!" + +"M. de Lourtier, the woman known as the lady with the hatchet is a +madwoman." + +"But she would be locked up!" + +"We don't know that she's not. We don't know that she is not one of those +half-mad people, apparently harmless, who are watched so slightly that they +have full scope to indulge their little manias, their wild-beast instincts. +Nothing could be more treacherous than these creatures. Nothing could be +more crafty, more patient, more persistent, more dangerous and at the same +time more absurd and more logical, more slovenly and more methodical. All +these epithets, M. de Lourtier, may be applied to the doings of the lady +with the hatchet. The obsession of an idea and the continual repetition +of an act are characteristics of the maniac. I do not yet know the idea +by which the lady with the hatchet is obsessed but I do know the act that +results from it; and it is always the same. The victim is bound with +precisely similar ropes. She is killed after the same number of days. She +is struck by an identical blow, with the same instrument, in the same +place, the middle of the forehead, producing an absolutely vertical wound. +An ordinary murderer displays some variety. His trembling hand swerves +aside and strikes awry. The lady with the hatchet does not tremble. It is +as though she had taken measurements; and the edge of her weapon does not +swerve by a hair's breadth. Need I give you any further proofs or examine +all the other details with you? Surely not. You now possess the key to the +riddle; and you know as I do that only a lunatic can behave in this way, +stupidly, savagely, mechanically, like a striking clock or the blade of the +guillotine...." + +M. de Lourtier-Vaneau nodded his head: + +"Yes, that is so. One can see the whole affair from that angle ... and I +am beginning to believe that this is how one ought to see it. But, if we +admit that this madwoman has the sort of mathematical logic which governed +the murders of the six victims, I see no connection between the victims +themselves. She struck at random. Why this victim rather than that?" + +"Ah," said Rénine. "Your excellency is asking me a question which I asked +myself from the first moment, the question which sums up the whole problem +and which cost me so much trouble to solve! Why Hortense Daniel rather than +another? Among two millions of women who might have been selected, why +Hortense? Why little Vernisset? Why Miss Williamson? If the affair is such +as I conceived it, as a whole, that is to say, based upon the blind and +fantastic logic of a madwoman, a choice was inevitably exercised. Now in +what did that choice consist? What was the quality, or the defect, or the +sign needed to induce the lady with the hatchet to strike? In a word, if +she chose--and she must have chosen--what directed her choice?" + +"Have you found the answer?" + +Rénine paused and replied: + +"Yes, your excellency, I have. And I could have found it at the very +outset, since all that I had to do was to make a careful examination of the +list of victims. But these flashes of truth are never kindled save in a +brain overstimulated by effort and reflection. I stared at the list twenty +times over, before that little detail took a definite shape." + +"I don't follow you," said M. de Lourtier-Vaneau. + +"M. de Lourtier, it may be noted that, if a number of persons are brought +together in any transaction, or crime, or public scandal or what not, they +are almost invariably described in the same way. On this occasion, the +newspapers never mentioned anything more than their surnames in speaking +of Madame Ladoue, Mlle. Ardent or Mlle. Covereau. On the other hand, Mlle. +Vernisset and Miss Williamson were always described by their Christian +names as well: Honorine and Hermione. If the same thing had been done in +the case of all the six victims, there would have been no mystery." + +"Why not?" + +"Because we should at once have realized the relation existing between the +six unfortunate women, as I myself suddenly realized it on comparing those +two Christian names with that of Hortense Daniel. You understand now, don't +you? You see the three Christian names before your eyes...." + +M. de Lourtier-Vaneau seemed to be perturbed. Turning a little pale, he +said: + +"What do you mean? What do you mean?" + +"I mean," continued Rénine, in a clear voice, sounding each syllable +separately, "I mean that you see before your eyes three Christian names +which all three begin with the same initial and which all three, by a +remarkable coincidence, consist of the same number of letters, as you may +prove. If you enquire at the Courbevoie laundry, where Mlle. Covereau +used to work, you will find that her name was Hilairie. Here again we +have the same initial and the same number of letters. There is no need +to seek any farther. We are sure, are we not, that the Christian names +of all the victims offer the same peculiarities? And this gives us, with +absolute certainty, the key to the problem which was set us. It explains +the madwoman's choice. We now know the connection between the unfortunate +victims. There can be no mistake about it. It's that and nothing else. And +how this method of choosing confirms my theory! What proof of madness! Why +kill these women rather than any others? Because their names begin with +an H and consist of eight letters! You understand me, M. de Lourtier, do +you not? The number of letters is eight. The initial letter is the eighth +letter of the alphabet; and the word _huit_, eight, begins with an H. +Always the letter H. _And the implement used to commit the crime was a +hatchet_. Is your excellency prepared to tell me that the lady with the +hatchet is not a madwoman?" + +Rénine interrupted himself and went up to M. de Lourtier-Vaneau: + +"What's the matter, your excellency? Are you unwell?" + +"No, no," said M. de Lourtier, with the perspiration streaming down his +forehead. "No ... but all this story is so upsetting! Only think, I knew +one of the victims! And then...." + +Rénine took a water-bottle and tumbler from a small table, filled the glass +and handed it to M. de Lourtier, who sipped a few mouthfuls from it and +then, pulling himself together, continued, in a voice which he strove to +make firmer than it had been: + +"Very well. We'll admit your supposition. Even so, it is necessary that it +should lead to tangible results. What have you done?" + +"This morning I published in all the newspapers an advertisement worded as +follows: 'Excellent cook seeks situation. Write before 5 P.M. to Herminie, +Boulevard Haussmann, etc.' You continue to follow me, don't you, M. de +Lourtier? Christian names beginning with an H and consisting of eight +letters are extremely rare and are all rather out of date: Herminie, +Hilairie, Hermione. Well, these Christian names, for reasons which I do not +understand, are essential to the madwoman. She cannot do without them. To +find women bearing one of these Christian names and for this purpose only +she summons up all her remaining powers of reason, discernment, reflection +and intelligence. She hunts about. She asks questions. She lies in wait. +She reads newspapers which she hardly understands, but in which certain +details, certain capital letters catch her eye. And consequently I did not +doubt for a second that this name of Herminie, printed in large type, would +attract her attention and that she would be caught to-day in the trap of my +advertisement." + +"Did she write?" asked M. de Lourtier-Vaneau, anxiously. + +"Several ladies," Rénine continued, "wrote the letters which are usual in +such cases, to offer a home to the so-called Herminie. But I received an +express letter which struck me as interesting." + +"From whom?" + +"Read it, M. de Lourtier." + +M. de Lourtier-Vaneau snatched the sheet from Rénine's hands and cast a +glance at the signature. His first movement was one of surprise, as though +he had expected something different. Then he gave a long, loud laugh of +something like joy and relief. + +"Why do you laugh, M. de Lourtier? You seem pleased." + +"Pleased, no. But this letter is signed by my wife." + +"And you were afraid of finding something else?" + +"Oh no! But since it's my wife...." + +He did not finish his sentence and said to Rénine: + +"Come this way." + +He led him through a passage to a little drawing-room where a fair-haired +lady, with a happy and tender expression on her comely face, was sitting in +the midst of three children and helping them with their lessons. + +She rose. M. de Lourtier briefly presented his visitor and asked his wife: + +"Suzanne, is this express message from you?" + +"To Mlle. Herminie, Boulevard Haussmann? Yes," she said, "I sent it. As you +know, our parlour-maid's leaving and I'm looking out for a new one." + +Rénine interrupted her: + +"Excuse me, madame. Just one question: where did you get the woman's +address?" + +She flushed. Her husband insisted: + +"Tell us, Suzanne. Who gave you the address?" + +"I was rung up." + +"By whom?" + +She hesitated and then said: + +"Your old nurse." + +"Félicienne?" + +"Yes." + +M. de Lourtier cut short the conversation and, without permitting Rénine to +ask any more questions, took him back to the study: + +"You see, monsieur, that pneumatic letter came from a quite natural source. +Félicienne, my old nurse, who lives not far from Paris on an allowance +which I make her, read your advertisement and told Madame de Lourtier of +it. For, after all," he added laughing, "I don't suppose that you suspect +my wife of being the lady with the hatchet." + +"No." + +"Then the incident is closed ... at least on my side. I have done what I +could, I have listened to your arguments and I am very sorry that I can be +of no more use to you...." + +He drank another glass of water and sat down. His face was distorted. +Rénine looked at him for a few seconds, as a man will look at a failing +adversary who has only to receive the knock-out blow, and, sitting down +beside him, suddenly gripped his arm: + +"Your excellency, if you do not speak, Hortense Daniel will be the seventh +victim." + +"I have nothing to say, monsieur! What do you think I know?" + +"The truth! My explanations have made it plain to you. Your distress, your +terror are positive proofs." + +"But, after all, monsieur, if I knew, why should I be silent?" + +"For fear of scandal. There is in your life, so a profound intuition +assures me, something that you are constrained to hide. The truth about +this monstrous tragedy, which suddenly flashed upon you, this truth, if +it were known, would spell dishonour to you, disgrace ... and you are +shrinking from your duty." + +M. de Lourtier did not reply. Rénine leant over him and, looking him in +the eyes, whispered: + +"There will be no scandal. I shall be the only person in the world to +know what has happened. And I am as much interested as yourself in not +attracting attention, because I love Hortense Daniel and do not wish her +name to be mixed up in your horrible story." + +They remained face to face during a long interval. Rénine's expression was +harsh and unyielding. M. de Lourtier felt that nothing would bend him if +the necessary words remained unspoken; but he could not bring himself to +utter them: + +"You are mistaken," he said. "You think you have seen things that don't +exist." + +Rénine received a sudden and terrifying conviction that, if this man took +refuge in a stolid silence, there was no hope for Hortense Daniel; and he +was so much infuriated by the thought that the key to the riddle lay there, +within reach of his hand, that he clutched M. de Lourtier by the throat and +forced him backwards: + +"I'll have no more lies! A woman's life is at stake! Speak ... and speak at +once! If not ...!" + +M. de Lourtier had no strength left in him. All resistance was impossible. +It was not that Rénine's attack alarmed him, or that he was yielding to +this act of violence, but he felt crushed by that indomitable will, which +seemed to admit no obstacle, and he stammered: + +"You are right. It is my duty to tell everything, whatever comes of it." + +"Nothing will come of it, I pledge my word, on condition that you save +Hortense Daniel. A moment's hesitation may undo us all. Speak. No details, +but the actual facts." + +"Madame de Lourtier is not my wife. The only woman who has the right to +bear my name is one whom I married when I was a young colonial official. +She was a rather eccentric woman, of feeble mentality and incredibly +subject to impulses that amounted to monomania. We had two children, twins, +whom she worshipped and in whose company she would no doubt have recovered +her mental balance and moral health, when, by a stupid accident--a +passing carriage--they were killed before her eyes. The poor thing went +mad ... with the silent, secretive madness which you imagined. Some time +afterwards, when I was appointed to an Algerian station, I brought her to +France and put her in the charge of a worthy creature who had nursed me and +brought me up. Two years later, I made the acquaintance of the woman who +was to become the joy of my life. You saw her just now. She is the mother +of my children and she passes as my wife. Are we to sacrifice her? Is our +whole existence to be shipwrecked in horror and must our name be coupled +with this tragedy of madness and blood?" + +Rénine thought for a moment and asked: + +"What is the other one's name?" + +"Hermance." + +"Hermance! Still that initial ... still those eight letters!" + +"That was what made me realize everything just now," said M. de Lourtier. +"When you compared the different names, I at once reflected that my unhappy +wife was called Hermance and that she was mad ... and all the proofs leapt +to my mind." + +"But, though we understand the selection of the victims, how are we to +explain the murders? What are the symptoms of her madness? Does she suffer +at all?" + +"She does not suffer very much at present. But she has suffered in the +past, the most terrible suffering that you can imagine: since the moment +when her two children were run over before her eyes, night and day she had +the horrible spectacle of their death before her eyes, without a moment's +interruption, for she never slept for a single second. Think of the torture +of it! To see her children dying through all the hours of the long day and +all the hours of the interminable night!" + +"Nevertheless," Rénine objected, "it is not to drive away that picture that +she commits murder?" + +"Yes, possibly," said M. de Lourtier, thoughtfully, "to drive it away by +sleep." + +"I don't understand." + +"You don't understand, because we are talking of a madwoman ... and because +all that happens in that disordered brain is necessarily incoherent and +abnormal?" + +"Obviously. But, all the same, is your supposition based on facts that +justify it?" + +"Yes, on facts which I had, in a way, overlooked but which to-day assume +their true significance. The first of these facts dates a few years back, +to a morning when my old nurse for the first time found Hermance fast +asleep. Now she was holding her hands clutched around a puppy which she had +strangled. And the same thing was repeated on three other occasions." + +"And she slept?" + +"Yes, each time she slept a sleep which lasted for several nights." + +"And what conclusion did you draw?" + +"I concluded that the relaxation of the nerves provoked by taking life +exhausted her and predisposed her for sleep." + +Rénine shuddered: + +"That's it! There's not a doubt of it! The taking life, the effort of +killing makes her sleep. And she began with women what had served her so +well with animals. All her madness has become concentrated on that one +point: she kills them to rob them of their sleep! She wanted sleep; and she +steals the sleep of others! That's it, isn't it? For the past two years, +she has been sleeping?" + +"For the past two years, she has been sleeping," stammered M. de Lourtier. + +Rénine gripped him by the shoulder: + +"And it never occurred to you that her madness might go farther, that she +would stop at nothing to win the blessing of sleep! Let us make haste, +monsieur! All this is horrible!" + +They were both making for the door, when M. de Lourtier hesitated. The +telephone-bell was ringing. + +"It's from there," he said. + +"From there?" + +"Yes, my old nurse gives me the news at the same time every day." + +He unhooked the receivers and handed one to Rénine, who whispered in his +ear the questions which he was to put. + +"Is that you, Félicienne? How is she?" + +"Not so bad, sir." + +"Is she sleeping well?" + +"Not very well, lately. Last night, indeed, she never closed her eyes. So +she's very gloomy just now." + +"What is she doing at the moment?" + +"She is in her room." + +"Go to her, Félicienne, and don't leave her." + +"I can't. She's locked herself in." + +"You must, Félicienne. Break open the door. I'm coming straight on.... +Hullo! Hullo!... Oh, damnation, they've cut us off!" + +Without a word, the two men left the flat and ran down to the avenue. +Rénine hustled M. de Lourtier into the car: + +"What address?" + +"Ville d'Avray." + +"Of course! In the very center of her operations ... like a spider in the +middle of her web! Oh, the shame of it!" + +He was profoundly agitated. He saw the whole adventure in its monstrous +reality. + +"Yes, she kills them to steal their sleep, as she used to kill the animals. +It is the same obsession, but complicated by a whole array of utterly +incomprehensible practices and superstitions. She evidently fancies that +the similarity of the Christian names to her own is indispensable and that +she will not sleep unless her victim is an Hortense or an Honorine. It's +a madwoman's argument; its logic escapes us and we know nothing of its +origin; but we can't get away from it. She has to hunt and has to find. And +she finds and carries off her prey beforehand and watches over it for the +appointed number of days, until the moment when, crazily, through the hole +which she digs with a hatchet in the middle of the skull, she absorbs the +sleep which stupefies her and grants her oblivion for a given period. And +here again we see absurdity and madness. Why does she fix that period at so +many days? Why should one victim ensure her a hundred and twenty days of +sleep and another a hundred and twenty-five? What insanity! The calculation +is mysterious and of course mad; but the fact remains that, at the end of +a hundred or a hundred and twenty-five days, as the case may be, a fresh +victim is sacrificed; and there have been six already and the seventh is +awaiting her turn. Ah, monsieur, what a terrible responsibility for you! +Such a monster as that! She should never have been allowed out of sight!" + +M. de Lourtier-Vaneau made no protest. His air of dejection, his pallor, +his trembling hands, all proved his remorse and his despair: "She deceived +me," he murmured. "She was outwardly so quiet, so docile! And, after all, +she's in a lunatic asylum." + +"Then how can she ...?" + +"The asylum," explained M. de Lourtier, "is made up of a number of separate +buildings scattered over extensive grounds. The sort of cottage in which +Hermance lives stands quite apart. There is first a room occupied by +Félicienne, then Hermance's bedroom and two separate rooms, one of which +has its windows overlooking the open country. I suppose it is there that +she locks up her victims." + +"But the carriage that conveys the dead bodies?" + +"The stables of the asylum are quite close to the cottage. There's a horse +and carriage there for station work. Hermance no doubt gets up at night, +harnesses the horse and slips the body through the window." + +"And the nurse who watches her?" + +"Félicienne is very old and rather deaf." + +"But by day she sees her mistress moving to and fro, doing this and that. +Must we not admit a certain complicity?" + +"Never! Félicienne herself has been deceived by Hermance's hypocrisy." + +"All the same, it was she who telephoned to Madame de Lourtier first, about +that advertisement...." + +"Very naturally. Hermance, who talks now and then, who argues, who buries +herself in the newspapers, which she does not understand, as you were +saying just now, but reads through them attentively, must have seen the +advertisement and, having heard that we were looking for a servant, must +have asked Félicienne to ring me up." + +"Yes ... yes ... that is what I felt," said Rénine, slowly. "She marks down +her victims.... With Hortense dead, she would have known, once she had used +up her allowance of sleep, where to find an eighth victim.... But how did +she entice the unfortunate women? How did she entice Hortense?" + +The car was rushing along, but not fast enough to please Rénine, who rated +the chauffeur: + +"Push her along, Adolphe, can't you?... We're losing time, my man." + +Suddenly the fear of arriving too late began to torture him. The logic of +the insane is subject to sudden changes of mood, to any perilous idea that +may enter the mind. The madwoman might easily mistake the date and hasten +the catastrophe, like a clock out of order which strikes an hour too soon. + +On the other hand, as her sleep was once more disturbed, might she not be +tempted to take action without waiting for the appointed moment? Was this +not the reason why she had locked herself into her room? Heavens, what +agonies her prisoner must be suffering! What shudders of terror at the +executioner's least movement! + +"Faster, Adolphe, or I'll take the wheel myself! Faster, hang it." + +At last they reached Ville d'Avray. There was a steep, sloping road on the +right and walls interrupted by a long railing. + +"Drive round the grounds, Adolphe. We mustn't give warning of our presence, +must we, M. de Lourtier? Where is the cottage?" + +"Just opposite," said M. de Lourtier-Vaneau. + +They got out a little farther on. Rénine began to run along a bank at the +side of an ill-kept sunken road. It was almost dark. M. de Lourtier said: + +"Here, this building standing a little way back.... Look at that window on +the ground-floor. It belongs to one of the separate rooms ... and that is +obviously how she slips out." + +"But the window seems to be barred." + +"Yes; and that is why no one suspected anything. But she must have found +some way to get through." + +The ground-floor was built over deep cellars. Rénine quickly clambered up, +finding a foothold on a projecting ledge of stone. + +Sure enough, one of the bars was missing. + +He pressed his face to the window-pane and looked in. + +The room was dark inside. Nevertheless he was able to distinguish at the +back a woman seated beside another woman, who was lying on a mattress. The +woman seated was holding her forehead in her hands and gazing at the woman +who was lying down. + +"It's she," whispered M. de Lourtier, who had also climbed the wall. "The +other one is bound." + +Rénine took from his pocket a glazier's diamond and cut out one of the +panes without making enough noise to arouse the madwoman's attention. He +next slid his hand to the window-fastening and turned it softly, while with +his left hand he levelled a revolver. + +"You're not going to fire, surely!" M. de Lourtier-Vaneau entreated. + +"If I must, I shall." + +Rénine pushed open the window gently. But there was an obstacle of which he +was not aware, a chair which toppled over and fell. + +He leapt into the room and threw away his revolver in order to seize the +madwoman. But she did not wait for him. She rushed to the door, opened it +and fled, with a hoarse cry. + +M. de Lourtier made as though to run after her. + +"What's the use?" said Rénine, kneeling down, "Let's save the victim +first." + +He was instantly reassured: Hortense was alive. + +The first thing that he did was to cut the cords and remove the gag that +was stifling her. Attracted by the noise, the old nurse had hastened to +the room with a lamp, which Rénine took from her, casting its light on +Hortense. + +He was astounded: though livid and exhausted, with emaciated features and +eyes blazing with fever, Hortense was trying to smile. She whispered: + +"I was expecting you ... I did not despair for a moment ... I was sure of +you...." + +She fainted. + +An hour later, after much useless searching around the cottage, they found +the madwoman locked into a large cupboard in the loft. She had hanged +herself. + + * * * * * + +Hortense refused to stay another night. Besides, it was better that the +cottage should be empty when the old nurse announced the madwoman's +suicide. Rénine gave Félicienne minute directions as to what she should do +and say; and then, assisted by the chauffeur and M. de Lourtier, carried +Hortense to the car and brought her home. + +She was soon convalescent. Two days later, Rénine carefully questioned her +and asked her how she had come to know the madwoman. + +"It was very simple," she said. "My husband, who is not quite sane, as I +have told you, is being looked after at Ville d'Avray; and I sometimes go +to see him, without telling anybody, I admit. That was how I came to speak +to that poor madwoman and how, the other day, she made signs that she +wanted me to visit her. We were alone. I went into the cottage. She threw +herself upon me and overpowered me before I had time to cry for help. I +thought it was a jest; and so it was, wasn't it: a madwoman's jest? She was +quite gentle with me.... All the same, she let me starve. But I was so sure +of you!" + +"And weren't you frightened?" + +"Of starving? No. Besides, she gave me some food, now and then, when the +fancy took her.... And then I was sure of you!" + +"Yes, but there was something else: that other peril...." + +"What other peril?" she asked, ingenuously. + +Rénine gave a start. He suddenly understood--it seemed strange at first, +though it was quite natural--that Hortense had not for a moment suspected +and did not yet suspect the terrible danger which she had run. Her mind had +not connected with her own adventure the murders committed by the lady with +the hatchet. + +He thought that it would always be time enough to tell her the truth. For +that matter, a few days later her husband, who had been locked up for +years, died in the asylum at Ville d'Avray, and Hortense, who had been +recommended by her doctor a short period of rest and solitude, went to stay +with a relation living near the village of Bassicourt, in the centre of +France. + + + + +VII + +FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW + + +_To Prince Serge Rénine, + Boulevard Haussmann, + Paris_ + +LA RONCIÈRE + NEAR BASSICOURT, + 14 NOVEMBER. + +"MY DEAR FRIEND,-- + +"You must be thinking me very ungrateful. I have been here three weeks; and +you have had not one letter from me! Not a word of thanks! And yet I ended +by realizing from what terrible death you saved me and understanding the +secret of that terrible business! But indeed, indeed I couldn't help it! I +was in such a state of prostration after it all! I needed rest and solitude +so badly! Was I to stay in Paris? Was I to continue my expeditions with +you? No, no, no! I had had enough adventures! Other people's are very +interesting, I admit. But when one is one's self the victim and barely +escapes with one's life?... Oh, my dear friend, how horrible it was! Shall +I ever forget it?... + +"Here, at la Roncière, I enjoy the greatest peace. My old spinster cousin +Ermelin pets and coddles me like an invalid. I am getting back my colour +and am very well, physically ... so much so, in fact, that I no longer +ever think of interesting myself in other people's business. Never again! +For instance (I am only telling you this because you are incorrigible, as +inquisitive as any old charwoman, and always ready to busy yourself with +things that don't concern you), yesterday I was present at a rather curious +meeting. Antoinette had taken me to the inn at Bassicourt, where we were +having tea in the public room, among the peasants (it was market-day), when +the arrival of three people, two men and a woman, caused a sudden pause in +the conversation. + +"One of the men was a fat farmer in a long blouse, with a jovial, red face, +framed in white whiskers. The other was younger, was dressed in corduroy +and had lean, yellow, cross-grained features. Each of them carried a gun +slung over his shoulder. Between them was a short, slender young woman, in +a brown cloak and a fur cap, whose rather thin and extremely pale face was +surprisingly delicate and distinguished-looking. + +"'Father, son and daughter-in-law,' whispered my cousin. + +"'What! Can that charming creature be the wife of that clod-hopper?' + +"'And the daughter-in-law of Baron de Gorne.' + +"'Is the old fellow over there a baron?' + +"'Yes, descended from a very ancient, noble family which used to own the +château in the old days. He has always lived like a peasant: a great +hunter, a great drinker, a great litigant, always at law with somebody, now +very nearly ruined. His son Mathias was more ambitious and less attached to +the soil and studied for the bar. Then he went to America. Next, the lack +of money brought him back to the village, whereupon he fell in love with a +young girl in the nearest town. The poor girl consented, no one knows why, +to marry him; and for five years past she has been leading the life of a +hermit, or rather of a prisoner, in a little manor-house close by, the +Manoir-au-Puits, the Well Manor.' + +"'With the father and the son?' I asked. + +"'No, the father lives at the far end of the village, on a lonely farm.' + +"'And is Master Mathias jealous?' + +"'A perfect tiger!' + +"'Without reason?' + +"'Without reason, for Natalie de Gorne is the straightest woman in the world +and it is not her fault if a handsome young man has been hanging around the +manor-house for the past few months. However, the de Gornes can't get over +it.' + +"'What, the father neither?' + +"'The handsome young man is the last descendant of the people who bought the +château long ago. This explains old de Gorne's hatred. Jérôme Vignal--I +know him and am very fond of him--is a good-looking fellow and very well +off; and he has sworn to run off with Natalie de Gorne. It's the old man +who says so, whenever he has had a drop too much. There, listen!' + +"The old chap was sitting among a group of men who were amusing themselves +by making him drink and plying him with questions. He was already a little +bit 'on' and was holding forth with a tone of indignation and a mocking +smile which formed the most comic contrast: + +"'He's wasting his time, I tell you, the coxcomb! It's no manner of use his +poaching round our way and making sheep's-eyes at the wench.... The coverts +are watched! If he comes too near, it means a bullet, eh, Mathias?' + +"He gripped his daughter-in-law's hand: + +"'And then the little wench knows how to defend herself too,' he chuckled. +'Eh, you don't want any admirers, do you Natalie?' + +"The young wife blushed, in her confusion at being addressed in these +terms, while her husband growled: + +"'You'd do better to hold your tongue, father. There are things one doesn't +talk about in public.' + +"'Things that affect one's honour are best settled in public,' retorted the +old one. 'Where I'm concerned, the honour of the de Gornes comes before +everything; and that fine spark, with his Paris airs, sha'n't....' + +"He stopped short. Before him stood a man who had just come in and who +seemed to be waiting for him to finish his sentence. The newcomer was a +tall, powerfully-built young fellow, in riding-kit, with a hunting-crop in +his hand. His strong and rather stern face was lighted up by a pair of fine +eyes in which shone an ironical smile. + +"'Jérôme Vignal,' whispered my cousin. + +"The young man seemed not at all embarrassed. On seeing Natalie, he made a +low bow; and, when Mathias de Gorne took a step forward, he eyed him from +head to foot, as though to say: + +"'Well, what about it?' + +"And his attitude was so haughty and contemptuous that the de Gornes +unslung their guns and took them in both hands, like sportsmen about to +shoot. The son's expression was very fierce. + +"Jérôme was quite unmoved by the threat. After a few seconds, turning to +the inn-keeper, he remarked: + +"'Oh, I say! I came to see old Vasseur. But his shop is shut. Would you mind +giving him the holster of my revolver? It wants a stitch or two.' + +"He handed the holster to the inn-keeper and added, laughing: + +"'I'm keeping the revolver, in case I need it. You never can tell!' + +"Then, still very calmly, he took a cigarette from a silver case, lit it +and walked out. We saw him through the window vaulting on his horse and +riding off at a slow trot. + +"Old de Gorne tossed off a glass of brandy, swearing most horribly. + +"His son clapped his hand to the old man's mouth and forced him to sit +down. Natalie de Gorne was weeping beside them.... + +"That's my story, dear friend. As you see, it's not tremendously +interesting and does not deserve your attention. There's no mystery in it +and no part for you to play. Indeed, I particularly insist that you should +not seek a pretext for any untimely interference. Of course, I should be +glad to see the poor thing protected: she appears to be a perfect martyr. +But, as I said before, let us leave other people to get out of their own +troubles and go no farther with our little experiments...." + + * * * * * + +Rénine finished reading the letter, read it over again and ended by saying: + +"That's it. Everything's right as right can be. She doesn't want to +continue our little experiments, because this would make the seventh and +because she's afraid of the eighth, which under the terms of our agreement +has a very particular significance. She doesn't want to ... and she does +want to ... without seeming to want to." + + * * * * * + +He rubbed his hands. The letter was an invaluable witness to the influence +which he had gradually, gently and patiently gained over Hortense Daniel. +It betrayed a rather complex feeling, composed of admiration, unbounded +confidence, uneasiness at times, fear and almost terror, but also love: +he was convinced of that. His companion in adventures which she shared +with a good fellowship that excluded any awkwardness between them, she +had suddenly taken fright; and a sort of modesty, mingled with a certain +coquetry; was impelling her to hold back. + +That very evening, Sunday, Rénine took the train. + +And, at break of day, after covering by diligence, on a road white with +snow, the five miles between the little town of Pompignat, where he +alighted, and the village of Bassicourt, he learnt that his journey might +prove of some use: three shots had been heard during the night in the +direction of the Manoir-au-Puits. + +"Three shots, sergeant. I heard them as plainly as I see you standing +before me," said a peasant whom the gendarmes were questioning in the +parlour of the inn which Rénine had entered. + +"So did I," said the waiter. "Three shots. It may have been twelve o'clock +at night. The snow, which had been falling since nine, had stopped ... +and the shots sounded across the fields, one after the other: bang, bang, +bang." + +Five more peasants gave their evidence. The sergeant and his men had +heard nothing, because the police-station backed on the fields. But a +farm-labourer and a woman arrived, who said that they were in Mathias +de Gorne's service, that they had been away for two days because of the +intervening Sunday and that they had come straight from the manor-house, +where they were unable to obtain admission: + +"The gate of the grounds is locked, sergeant," said the man. "It's the +first time I've known this to happen. M. Mathias comes out to open it +himself, every morning at the stroke of six, winter and summer. Well, it's +past eight now. I called and shouted. Nobody answered. So we came on here." + +"You might have enquired at old M. de Gorne's," said the sergeant. "He +lives on the high-road." + +"On my word, so I might! I never thought of that." + +"We'd better go there now," the sergeant decided. Two of his men went with +him, as well as the peasants and a locksmith whose services were called +into requisition. Rénine joined the party. + +Soon, at the end of the village, they reached old de Gorne's farmyard, +which Rénine recognized by Hortense's description of its position. + +The old fellow was harnessing his horse and trap. When they told him what +had happened, he burst out laughing: + +"Three shots? Bang, bang, bang? Why, my dear sergeant, there are only two +barrels to Mathias' gun!" + +"What about the locked gate?" + +"It means that the lad's asleep, that's all. Last night, he came and +cracked a bottle with me ... perhaps two ... or even three; and he'll be +sleeping it off, I expect ... he and Natalie." + +He climbed on to the box of his trap--an old cart with a patched tilt--and +cracked his whip: + +"Good-bye, gentlemen all. Those three shots of yours won't stop me from +going to market at Pompignat, as I do every Monday. I've a couple of calves +under the tilt; and they're just fit for the butcher. Good-day to you!" + +The others walked on. Rénine went up to the sergeant and gave him his name: + +"I'm a friend of Mlle. Ermelin, of La Roncière; and, as it's too early to +call on her yet, I shall be glad if you'll allow me to go round by the +manor with you. Mlle. Ermelin knows Madame de Gorne; and it will be a +satisfaction to me to relieve her mind, for there's nothing wrong at the +manor-house, I hope?" + +"If there is," replied the sergeant, "we shall read all about it as plainly +as on a map, because of the snow." + +He was a likable young man and seemed smart and intelligent. From the very +first he had shown great acuteness in observing the tracks which Mathias +had left behind him, the evening before, on returning home, tracks which +soon became confused with the footprints made in going and coming by the +farm-labourer and the woman. Meanwhile they came to the walls of a property +of which the locksmith readily opened the gate. + +From here onward, a single trail appeared upon the spotless snow, that of +Mathias; and it was easy to perceive that the son must have shared largely +in the father's libations, as the line of footprints described sudden +curves which made it swerve right up to the trees of the avenue. + +Two hundred yards farther stood the dilapidated two-storeyed building of +the Manoir-au-Puits. The principal door was open. + +"Let's go in," said the sergeant. + +And, the moment he had crossed the threshold, he muttered: + +"Oho! Old de Gorne made a mistake in not coming. They've been fighting in +here." + +The big room was in disorder. Two shattered chairs, the overturned table +and much broken glass and china bore witness to the violence of the +struggle. The tall clock, lying on the ground, had stopped at twenty past +eleven. + +With the farm-girl showing them the way, they ran up to the first floor. +Neither Mathias nor his wife was there. But the door of their bedroom had +been broken down with a hammer which they discovered under the bed. + +Rénine and the sergeant went downstairs again. The living-room had a +passage communicating with the kitchen, which lay at the back of the house +and opened on a small yard fenced off from the orchard. At the end of this +enclosure was a well near which one was bound to pass. + +Now, from the door of the kitchen to the well, the snow, which was not +very thick, had been pressed down to this side and that, as though a body +had been dragged over it. And all around the well were tangled traces of +trampling feet, showing that the struggle must have been resumed at this +spot. The sergeant again discovered Mathias' footprints, together with +others which were shapelier and lighter. + +These latter went straight into the orchard, by themselves. And, thirty +yards on, near the footprints, a revolver was picked up and recognized by +one of the peasants as resembling that which Jérôme Vignal had produced in +the inn two days before. + +The sergeant examined the cylinder. Three of the seven bullets had been +fired. + +And so the tragedy was little by little reconstructed in its main outlines; +and the sergeant, who had ordered everybody to stand aside and not to step +on the site of the footprints, came back to the well, leant over, put a few +questions to the farm-girl and, going up to Rénine, whispered: + +"It all seems fairly clear to me." + +Rénine took his arm: + +"Let's speak out plainly, sergeant. I understand the business pretty +well, for, as I told you, I know Mlle. Ermelin, who is a friend of Jérôme +Vignal's and also knows Madame de Gorne. Do you suppose ...?" + +"I don't want to suppose anything. I simply declare that some one came +there last night...." + +"By which way? The only tracks of a person coming towards the manor are +those of M. de Gorne." + +"That's because the other person arrived before the snowfall, that is to +say, before nine o'clock." + +"Then he must have hidden in a corner of the living-room and waited for the +return of M. de Gorne, who came after the snow?" + +"Just so. As soon as Mathias came in, the man went for him. There was a +fight. Mathias made his escape through the kitchen. The man ran after him +to the well and fired three revolver-shots." + +"And where's the body?" + +"Down the well." + +Rénine protested: + +"Oh, I say! Aren't you taking a lot for granted?" + +"Why, sir, the snow's there, to tell the story; and the snow plainly says +that, after the struggle, after the three shots, one man alone walked +away and left the farm, one man only, and his footprints are not those +of Mathias de Gorne. Then where can Mathias de Gorne be?" + +"But the well ... can be dragged?" + +"No. The well is practically bottomless. It is known all over the district +and gives its name to the manor." + +"So you really believe ...?" + +"I repeat what I said. Before the snowfall, a single arrival, Mathias, and +a single departure, the stranger." + +"And Madame de Gorne? Was she too killed and thrown down the well like her +husband?" + +"No, carried off." + +"Carried off?" + +"Remember that her bedroom was broken down with a hammer." + +"Come, come, sergeant! You yourself declare that there was only one +departure, the stranger's." + +"Stoop down. Look at the man's footprints. See how they sink into the snow, +until they actually touch the ground. Those are the footprints of a man, +laden with a heavy burden. The stranger was carrying Madame de Gorne on his +shoulder." + +"Then there's an outlet this way?" + +"Yes, a little door of which Mathias de Gorne always had the key on him. +The man must have taken it from him." + +"A way out into the open fields?" + +"Yes, a road which joins the departmental highway three quarters of a mile +from here.... And do you know where?" + +"Where?" + +"At the corner of the château." + +"Jérôme Vignal's château?" + +"By Jove, this is beginning to look serious! If the trail leads to the +château and stops there, we shall know where we stand." + +The trail did continue to the château, as they were able to perceive after +following it across the undulating fields, on which the snow lay heaped in +places. The approach to the main gates had been swept, but they saw that +another trail, formed by the two wheels of a vehicle, was running in the +opposite direction to the village. + +The sergeant rang the bell. The porter, who had also been sweeping the +drive, came to the gates, with a broom in his hand. In answer to a +question, the man said that M. Vignal had gone away that morning before +anyone else was up and that he himself had harnessed the horse to the trap. + +"In that case," said Rénine, when they had moved away, "all we have to do +is to follow the tracks of the wheels." + +"That will be no use," said the sergeant. "They have taken the railway." + +"At Pompignat station, where I came from? But they would have passed +through the village." + +"They have gone just the other way, because it leads to the town, where the +express trains stop. The procurator-general has an office in the town. I'll +telephone; and, as there's no train before eleven o'clock, all that they +need do is to keep a watch at the station." + +"I think you're doing the right thing, sergeant," said Rénine, "and I +congratulate you on the way in which you have carried out your +investigation." + +They parted. Rénine went back to the inn in the village and sent a note to +Hortense Daniel by hand: + + "MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, + + "I seemed to gather from your letter that, touched as always by + anything that concerns the heart, you were anxious to protect the + love-affair of Jérôme and Natalie. Now there is every reason to + suppose that these two, without consulting their fair protectress, + have run away, after throwing Mathias de Gorne down a well. + + "Forgive me for not coming to see you. The whole thing is extremely + obscure; and, if I were with you, I should not have the detachment + of mind which is needed to think the case over." + +It was then half-past ten. Rénine went for a walk into the country, with +his hands clasped behind his back and without vouchsafing a glance at the +exquisite spectacle of the white meadows. He came back for lunch, still +absorbed in his thoughts and indifferent to the talk of the customers of +the inn, who on all sides were discussing recent events. + +He went up to his room and had been asleep some time when he was awakened +by a tapping at the door. He got up and opened it: + +"Is it you?... Is it you?" he whispered. + +Hortense and he stood gazing at each other for some seconds in silence, +holding each other's hands, as though nothing, no irrelevant thought and no +utterance, must be allowed to interfere with the joy of their meeting. Then +he asked: + +"Was I right in coming?" + +"Yes," she said, gently, "I expected you." + +"Perhaps it would have been better if you had sent for me sooner, instead +of waiting.... Events did not wait, you see, and I don't quite know what's +to become of Jérôme Vignal and Natalie de Gorne." + +"What, haven't you heard?" she said, quickly. "They've been arrested. They +were going to travel by the express." + +"Arrested? No." Rénine objected. "People are not arrested like that. They +have to be questioned first." + +"That's what's being done now. The authorities are making a search." + +"Where?" + +"At the château. And, as they are innocent.... For they are innocent, +aren't they? You don't admit that they are guilty, any more than I do?" + +He replied: + +"I admit nothing, I can admit nothing, my dear. Nevertheless, I am bound +to say that everything is against them ... except one fact, which is that +everything is too much against them. It is not normal for so many proofs to +be heaped up one on top of the other and for the man who commits a murder +to tell his story so frankly. Apart from this, there's nothing but mystery +and discrepancy." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I am greatly puzzled." + +"But you have a plan?" + +"None at all, so far. Ah, if I could see him, Jérôme Vignal, and her, +Natalie de Gorne, and hear them and know what they are saying in their own +defence! But you can understand that I sha'n't be permitted either to ask +them any questions or to be present at their examination. Besides, it must +be finished by this time." + +"It's finished at the château," she said, "but it's going to be continued +at the manor-house." + +"Are they taking them to the manor-house?" he asked eagerly. + +"Yes ... at least, judging by what was said to the chauffeur of one of the +procurator's two cars." + +"Oh, in that case," exclaimed Rénine, "the thing's done! The manor-house! +Why, we shall be in the front row of the stalls! We shall see and hear +everything; and, as a word, a tone of the voice, a quiver of the eyelids +will be enough to give me the tiny clue I need, we may entertain some hope. +Come along." + +He took her by the direct route which he had followed that morning, leading +to the gate which the locksmith had opened. The gendarmes on duty at +the manor-house had made a passage through the snow, beside the line of +footprints and around the house. Chance enabled Rénine and Hortense to +approach unseen and through a side-window to enter a corridor near a +back-staircase. A few steps up was a little chamber which received its +only light through a sort of bull's-eye, from the large room on the +ground-floor. Rénine, during the morning visit, had noticed the bull's-eye, +which was covered on the inside with a piece of cloth. He removed the cloth +and cut out one of the panes. + +A few minutes later, a sound of voices rose from the other side of the +house, no doubt near the well. The sound grew more distinct. A number of +people flocked into the house. Some of them went up stairs to the first +floor, while the sergeant arrived with a young man of whom Rénine and +Hortense were able to distinguish only the tall figure: + +"Jérôme Vignal," said she. + +"Yes," said Rénine. "They are examining Madame de Gorne first, upstairs, +in her bedroom." + +A quarter of an hour passed. Then the persons on the first floor came +downstairs and went in. They were the procurator's deputy, his clerk, a +commissary of police and two detectives. + +Madame de Gorne was shown in and the deputy asked Jérôme Vignal to step +forward. + +Jérôme Vignal's face was certainly that of the strong man whom Hortense had +depicted in her letter. He displayed no uneasiness, but rather decision and +a resolute will. Natalie, who was short and very slight, with a feverish +light in her eyes, nevertheless produced the same impression of quiet +confidence. + +The deputy, who was examining the disordered furniture and the traces of +the struggle, invited her to sit down and said to Jérôme: + +"Monsieur, I have not asked you many questions so far. This is a summary +enquiry which I am conducting in your presence and which will be continued +later by the examining-magistrate; and I wished above all to explain to you +the very serious reasons for which I asked you to interrupt your journey +and to come back here with Madame de Gorne. You are now in a position to +refute the truly distressing charges that are hanging over you. I therefore +ask you to tell me the exact truth." + +"Mr. Deputy," replied Jérôme, "the charges in question trouble me very +little. The truth for which you are asking will defeat all the lies which +chance has accumulated against me. It is this." + +He reflected for an instant and then, in clear, frank tones, said: + +"I love Madame de Gorne. The first time I met her, I conceived the greatest +sympathy and admiration for her. But my affection has always been directed +by the sole thought of her happiness. I love her, but I respect her even +more. Madame de Gorne must have told you and I tell you again that she and +I exchanged our first few words last night." + +He continued, in a lower voice: + +"I respect her the more inasmuch as she is exceedingly unhappy. All the +world knows that every minute of her life was a martyrdom. Her husband +persecuted her with ferocious hatred and frantic jealousy. Ask the +servants. They will tell you of the long suffering of Natalie de Gorne, of +the blows which she received and the insults which she had to endure. I +tried to stop this torture by restoring to the rights of appeal which the +merest stranger may claim when unhappiness and injustice pass a certain +limit. I went three times to old de Gorne and begged him to interfere; but +I found in him an almost equal hatred towards his daughter-in-law, the +hatred which many people feel for anything beautiful and noble. At last +I resolved on direct action and last night I took a step with regard to +Mathias de Gorne which was ... a little unusual, I admit, but which seemed +likely to succeed, considering the man's character. I swear, Mr. Deputy, +that I had no other intention than to talk to Mathias de Gorne. Knowing +certain particulars of his life which enabled me to bring effective +pressure to bear upon him, I wished to make use of this advantage in order +to achieve my purpose. If things turned out differently, I am not wholly +to blame.... So I went there a little before nine o'clock. The servants, I +knew, were out. He opened the door himself. He was alone." + +"Monsieur," said the deputy, interrupting him, "you are saying +something--as Madame de Gorne, for that matter, did just now--which is +manifestly opposed to the truth. Mathias de Gorne did not come home last +night until eleven o'clock. We have two definite proofs of this: his +father's evidence and the prints of his feet in the snow, which fell from +a quarter past nine o'clock to eleven." + +"Mr. Deputy," Jérôme Vignal declared, without heeding the bad effect which +his obstinacy was producing, "I am relating things as they were and not as +they may be interpreted. But to continue. That clock marked ten minutes to +nine when I entered this room. M. de Gorne, believing that he was about to +be attacked, had taken down his gun. I placed my revolver on the table, out +of reach of my hand, and sat down: 'I want to speak to you, monsieur,' I +said. 'Please listen to me.' He did not stir and did not utter a single +syllable. So I spoke. And straightway, crudely, without any previous +explanations which might have softened the bluntness of my proposal, I +spoke the few words which I had prepared beforehand: 'I have spent some +months, monsieur,' I said, 'in making careful enquiries into your financial +position. You have mortgaged every foot of your land. You have signed +bills which will shortly be falling due and which it will be absolutely +impossible for you to honour. You have nothing to hope for from your +father, whose own affairs are in a very bad condition. So you are ruined. I +have come to save you.'... He watched me, still without speaking, and sat +down, which I took to mean that my suggestion was not entirely displeasing. +Then I took a sheaf of bank-notes from my pocket, placed it before him +and continued: 'Here is sixty thousand francs, monsieur. I will buy the +Manoir-au-Puits, its lands and dependencies and take over the mortgages. +The sum named is exactly twice what they are worth.'... I saw his eyes +glittering. He asked my conditions. 'Only one,' I said, 'that you go to +America.'... Mr. Deputy, we sat discussing for two hours. It was not that +my offer roused his indignation--I should not have risked it if I had not +known with whom I was dealing--but he wanted more and haggled greedily, +though he refrained from mentioning the name of Madame de Gorne, to whom I +myself had not once alluded. We might have been two men engaged in a +dispute and seeking an agreement on common ground, whereas it was the +happiness and the whole destiny of a woman that were at stake. At last, +weary of the discussion, I accepted a compromise and we came to terms, +which I resolved to make definite then and there. Two letters were +exchanged between us: one in which he made the Manoir-au-Puits over to me +for the sum which I had paid him; and one, which he pocketed immediately, +by which I was to send him as much more in America on the day on which the +decree of divorce was pronounced.... So the affair was settled. I am sure +that at that moment he was accepting in good faith. He looked upon me less +as an enemy and a rival than as a man who was doing him a service. He even +went so far as to give me the key of the little door which opens on the +fields, so that I might go home by the short cut. Unfortunately, while I +was picking up my cap and greatcoat, I made the mistake of leaving on the +table the letter of sale which he had signed. In a moment, Mathias de Gorne +had seen the advantage which he could take of my slip: he could keep his +property, keep his wife ... and keep the money. Quick as lightning, he +tucked away the paper, hit me over the head with the butt-end of his gun, +threw the gun on the floor and seized me by the throat with both hands. He +had reckoned without his host. I was the stronger of the two; and after a +sharp but short struggle, I mastered him and tied him up with a cord which +I found lying in a corner ... Mr. Deputy, if my enemy's resolve was sudden, +mine was no less so. Since, when all was said, he had accepted the bargain, +I would force him to keep it, at least in so far as I was interested. A +very few steps brought me to the first floor ... I had not a doubt that +Madame de Gorne was there and had heard the sound of our discussion. +Switching on the light of my pocket-torch, I looked into three bedrooms. +The fourth was locked. I knocked at the door. There was no reply. But this +was one of the moments in which a man allows no obstacle to stand in his +way. I had seen a hammer in one of the rooms. I picked it up and smashed in +the door.... Yes, Natalie was lying there, on the floor, in a dead faint. I +took her in my arms, carried her downstairs and went through the kitchen. +On seeing the snow outside, I at once realized that my footprints would be +easily traced. But what did it matter? Was there any reason why I should +put Mathias de Gorne off the scent? Not at all. With the sixty thousand +francs in his possession, as well as the paper in which I undertook to pay +him a like sum on the day of his divorce, to say nothing of his house and +land, he would go away, leaving Natalie de Gorne to me. Nothing was changed +between us, except one thing: instead of awaiting his good pleasure, I +had at once seized the precious pledge which I coveted. What I feared, +therefore, was not so much any subsequent attack on the part of Mathias +de Gorne, but rather the indignant reproaches of his wife. What would she +say when she realized that she was a prisoner in my hands?... The reasons +why I escaped reproach Madame de Gorne has, I believe, had the frankness +to tell you. Love calls forth love. That night, in my house, broken by +emotion, she confessed her feeling for me. She loved me as I loved her. +Our destinies were henceforth mingled. She and I set out at five o'clock +this morning ... not foreseeing for an instant that we were amenable to +the law." + +Jérôme Vignal's story was finished. He had told it straight off the reel, +like a story learnt by heart and incapable of revision in any detail. + +There was a brief pause, during which Hortense whispered: + +"It all sounds quite possible and, in any case, very logical." + +"There are the objections to come," said Rénine. "Wait till you hear them. +They are very serious. There's one in particular...." + +The deputy-procurator stated it at once: + +"And what became of M. de Gorne in all this?" + +"Mathias de Gorne?" asked Jérôme. + +"Yes. You have related, with an accent of great sincerity, a series of +facts which I am quite willing to admit. Unfortunately, you have forgotten +a point of the first importance: what became of Mathias de Gorne? You tied +him up here, in this room. Well, this morning he was gone." + +"Of course, Mr. Deputy, Mathias de Gorne accepted the bargain in the end +and went away." + +"By what road?" + +"No doubt by the road that leads to his father's house." + +"Where are his footprints? The expanse of snow is an impartial witness. +After your fight with him, we see you, on the snow, moving away. Why don't +we see him? He came and did not go away again. Where is he? There is not a +trace of him ... or rather...." + +The deputy lowered his voice: + +"Or rather, yes, there are some traces on the way to the well and around +the well ... traces which prove that the last struggle of all took place +there.... And after that there is nothing ... not a thing...." + +Jérôme shrugged his shoulders: + +"You have already mentioned this, Mr. Deputy, and it implies a charge of +homicide against me. I have nothing to say to it." + +"Have you anything to say to the fact that your revolver was picked up +within fifteen yards of the well?" + +"No." + +"Or to the strange coincidence between the three shots heard in the night +and the three cartridges missing from your revolver?" + +"No, Mr. Deputy, there was not, as you believe, a last struggle by the +well, because I left M. de Gorne tied up, in this room, and because I also +left my revolver here. On the other hand, if shots were heard, they were +not fired by me." + +"A casual coincidence, therefore?" + +"That's a matter for the police to explain. My only duty is to tell the +truth and you are not entitled to ask more of me." + +"And if that truth conflicts with the facts observed?" + +"It means that the facts are wrong, Mr. Deputy." + +"As you please. But, until the day when the police are able to make them +agree with your statements, you will understand that I am obliged to keep +you under arrest." + +"And Madame de Gorne?" asked Jérôme, greatly distressed. + +The deputy did not reply. He exchanged a few words with the commissary of +police and then, beckoning to a detective, ordered him to bring up one of +the two motor-cars. Then he turned to Natalie: + +"Madame, you have heard M. Vignal's evidence. It agrees word for word with +your own. M. Vignal declares in particular that you had fainted when he +carried you away. But did you remain unconscious all the way?" + +It seemed as though Jérôme's composure had increased Madame de Gorne's +assurance. She replied: + +"I did not come to, monsieur, until I was at the château." + +"It's most extraordinary. Didn't you hear the three shots which were heard +by almost every one in the village?" + +"I did not." + +"And did you see nothing of what happened beside the well?" + +"Nothing did happen. M. Vignal has told you so." + +"Then what has become of your husband?" + +"I don't know." + +"Come, madame, you really must assist the officers of the law and at least +tell us what you think. Do you believe that there may have been an accident +and that possibly M. de Gorne, who had been to see his father and had more +to drink than usual, lost his balance and fell into the well?" + +"When my husband came back from seeing his father, he was not in the least +intoxicated." + +"His father, however, has stated that he was. His father and he had drunk +two or three bottles of wine." + +"His father is not telling the truth." + +"But the snow tells the truth, madame," said the deputy, irritably. "And +the line of his footprints wavers from side to side." + +"My husband came in at half-past-eight, monsieur, before the snow had begun +to fall." + +The deputy struck the table with his fist: + +"But, really, madame, you're going right against the evidence!... That +sheet of snow cannot speak false!... I may accept your denial of matters +that cannot be verified. But these footprints in the snow ... in the +snow...." + +He controlled himself. + +The motor-car drew up outside the windows. Forming a sudden resolve, he +said to Natalie: + +"You will be good enough to hold yourself at the disposal of the +authorities, madame, and to remain here, in the manor-house...." + +And he made a sign to the sergeant to remove Jérôme Vignal in the car. + +The game was lost for the two lovers. Barely united, they had to separate +and to fight, far away from each other, against the most grievous +accusations. + +Jérôme took a step towards Natalie. They exchanged a long, sorrowful look. +Then he bowed to her and walked to the door, in the wake of the sergeant of +gendarmes. + +"Halt!" cried a voice. "Sergeant, right about ... turn!... Jérôme Vignal, +stay where you are!" + +The ruffled deputy raised his head, as did the other people present. The +voice came from the ceiling. The bulls-eye window had opened and Rénine, +leaning through it, was waving his arms: + +"I wish to be heard!... I have several remarks to make ... especially in +respect of the zigzag footprints!... It all lies in that!... Mathias had +not been drinking!..." + +He had turned round and put his two legs through the opening, saying to +Hortense, who tried to prevent him: + +"Don't move.... No one will disturb you." + +And, releasing his hold, he dropped into the room. + +The deputy appeared dumfounded: + +"But, really, monsieur, who are you? Where do you come from?" + +Rénine brushed the dust from his clothes and replied: + +"Excuse me, Mr. Deputy. I ought to have come the same way as everybody +else. But I was in a hurry. Besides, if I had come in by the door instead +of falling from the ceiling, my words would not have made the same +impression." + +The infuriated deputy advanced to meet him: + +"Who are you?" + +"Prince Rénine. I was with the sergeant this morning when he was pursuing +his investigations, wasn't I, sergeant? Since then I have been hunting +about for information. That's why, wishing to be present at the hearing, +I found a corner in a little private room...." + +"You were there? You had the audacity?..." + +"One must needs be audacious, when the truth's at stake. If I had not +been there, I should not have discovered just the one little clue which I +missed. I should not have known that Mathias de Gorne was not the least bit +drunk. Now that's the key to the riddle. When we know that, we know the +solution." + +The deputy found himself in a rather ridiculous position. Since he +had failed to take the necessary precautions to ensure the secrecy of +his enquiry, it was difficult for him to take any steps against this +interloper. He growled: + +"Let's have done with this. What are you asking?" + +"A few minutes of your kind attention." + +"And with what object?" + +"To establish the innocence of M. Vignal and Madame de Gorne." + +He was wearing that calm air, that sort of indifferent look which was +peculiar to him in moments of actions when the crisis of the drama depended +solely upon himself. Hortense felt a thrill pass through her and at once +became full of confidence: + +"They're saved," she thought, with sudden emotion. "I asked him to protect +that young creature; and he is saving her from prison and despair." + +Jérôme and Natalie must have experienced the same impression of sudden +hope, for they had drawn nearer to each other, as though this stranger, +descended from the clouds, had already given them the right to clasp hands. + +The deputy shrugged his shoulders: + +"The prosecution will have every means, when the time comes, of +establishing their innocence for itself. You will be called." + +"It would be better to establish it here and now. Any delay might lead to +grievous consequences." + +"I happen to be in a hurry." + +"Two or three minutes will do." + +"Two or three minutes to explain a case like this!" + +"No longer, I assure you." + +"Are you as certain of it as all that?" + +"I am now. I have been thinking hard since this morning." + +The deputy realized that this was one of those gentry who stick to you +like a leech and that there was nothing for it but to submit. In a rather +bantering tone, he asked: + +"Does your thinking enable you to tell us the exact spot where M. Mathias +de Gorne is at this moment?" + +Rénine took out his watch and answered: + +"In Paris, Mr. Deputy." + +"In Paris? Alive then?" + +"Alive and, what is more, in the pink of health." + +"I am delighted to hear it. But then what's the meaning of the footprints +around the well and the presence of that revolver and those three shots?" + +"Simply camouflage." + +"Oh, really? Camouflage contrived by whom?" + +"By Mathias de Gorne himself." + +"That's curious! And with what object?" + +"With the object of passing himself off for dead and of arranging +subsequent matters in such a way that M. Vignal was bound to be accused of +the death, the murder." + +"An ingenious theory," the deputy agreed, still in a satirical tone. "What +do you think of it, M. Vignal?" + +"It is a theory which flashed through my own mind. Mr. Deputy," replied +Jérôme. "It is quite likely that, after our struggle and after I had gone, +Mathias de Gorne conceived a new plan by which, this time, his hatred would +be fully gratified. He both loved and detested his wife. He held me in the +greatest loathing. This must be his revenge." + +"His revenge would cost him dear, considering that, according to your +statement, Mathias de Gorne was to receive a second sum of sixty thousand +francs from you." + +"He would receive that sum in another quarter, Mr. Deputy. My examination +of the financial position of the de Gorne family revealed to me the fact +that the father and son had taken out a life-insurance policy in each +other's favour. With the son dead, or passing for dead, the father would +receive the insurance-money and indemnify his son." + +"You mean to say," asked the deputy, with a smile, "that in all this +camouflage, as you call it, M. de Gorne the elder would act as his son's +accomplice?" + +Rénine took up the challenge: + +"Just so, Mr. Deputy. The father and son are accomplices. + +"Then we shall find the son at the father's?" + +"You would have found him there last night." + +"What became of him?" + +"He took the train at Pompignat." + +"That's a mere supposition." + +"No, a certainty." + +"A moral certainty, perhaps, but you'll admit there's not the slightest +proof." + +The deputy did not wait for a reply. He considered that he had displayed an +excessive goodwill and that patience has its limits and he put an end to +the interview: + +"Not the slightest proof," he repeated, taking up his hat. "And, above +all, ... above all, there's nothing in what you've said that can contradict +in the very least the evidence of that relentless witness, the snow. To go +to his father, Mathias de Gorne must have left this house. Which way did he +go?" + +"Hang it all, M. Vignal told you: by the road which leads from here to his +father's!" + +"There are no tracks in the snow." + +"Yes, there are." + +"But they show him coming here and not going away from here." + +"It's the same thing." + +"What?" + +"Of course it is. There's more than one way of walking. One doesn't always +go ahead by following one's nose." + +"In what other way can one go ahead?" + +"By walking backwards, Mr. Deputy." + +These few words, spoken very simply, but in a clear tone which gave full +value to every syllable, produced a profound silence. Those present at +once grasped their extreme significance and, by adapting it to the actual +happenings, perceived in a flash the impenetrable truth, which suddenly +appeared to be the most natural thing in the world. + +Rénine continued his argument. Stepping backwards in the direction of the +window, he said: + +"If I want to get to that window, I can of course walk straight up to it; +but I can just as easily turn my back to it and walk that way. In either +case I reach my goal." + +And he at once proceeded in a vigorous tone: + +"Here's the gist of it all. At half-past eight, before the snow fell, M. de +Gorne comes home from his father's house. M. Vignal arrives twenty minutes +later. There is a long discussion and a struggle, taking up three hours in +all. It is then, after M. Vignal has carried off Madame de Gorne and made +his escape, that Mathias de Gorne, foaming at the mouth, wild with rage, +but suddenly seeing his chance of taking the most terrible revenge, hits +upon the ingenious idea of using against his enemy the very snowfall upon +whose evidence you are now relying. He therefore plans his own murder, or +rather the appearance of his murder and of his fall to the bottom of the +well and makes off backwards, step by step, thus recording his arrival +instead of his departure on the white page." + +The deputy sneered no longer. This eccentric intruder suddenly appeared to +him in the light of a person worthy of attention, whom it would not do to +make fun of. He asked: + +"And how could he have left his father's house?" + +"In a trap, quite simply." + +"Who drove it?" + +"The father. This morning the sergeant and I saw the trap and spoke to the +father, who was going to market as usual. The son was hidden under the +tilt. He took the train at Pompignat and is in Paris by now." + +Rénine's explanation, as promised, had taken hardly five minutes. He had +based it solely on logic and the probabilities of the case. And yet not a +jot was left of the distressing mystery in which they were floundering. The +darkness was dispelled. The whole truth appeared. + +Madame de Gorne wept for joy and Jérôme Vignal thanked the good genius who +was changing the course of events with a stroke of his magic wand. + +"Shall we examine those footprints together, Mr. Deputy?" asked Rénine. "Do +you mind? The mistake which the sergeant and I made this morning was to +investigate only the footprints left by the alleged murderer and to neglect +Mathias de Gorne's. Why indeed should they have attracted our attention? +Yet it was precisely there that the crux of the whole affair was to be +found." + +They stepped into the orchard and went to the well. It did not need a +long examination to observe that many of the footprints were awkward, +hesitating, too deeply sunk at the heel and toe and differing from one +another in the angle at which the feet were turned. + +"This clumsiness was unavoidable," said Rénine. "Mathias de Gorne would +have needed a regular apprenticeship before his backward progress could +have equalled his ordinary gait; and both his father and he must have been +aware of this, at least as regards the zigzags which you see here since old +de Gorne went out of his way to tell the sergeant that his son had had too +much drink." And he added "Indeed it was the detection of this falsehood +that suddenly enlightened me. When Madame de Gorne stated that her husband +was not drunk, I thought of the footprints and guessed the truth." + +The deputy frankly accepted his part in the matter and began to laugh: + +"There's nothing left for it but to send detectives after the bogus +corpse." + +"On what grounds, Mr. Deputy?" asked Rénine. "Mathias de Gorne has +committed no offence against the law. There's nothing criminal in trampling +the soil around a well, in shifting the position of a revolver that doesn't +belong to you, in firing three shots or in walking backwards to one's +father's house. What can we ask of him? The sixty thousand francs? I +presume that this is not M. Vignal's intention and that he does not mean to +bring a charge against him?" + +"Certainly not," said Jérôme. + +"Well, what then? The insurance-policy in favour of the survivor? But there +would be no misdemeanour unless the father claimed payment. And I should be +greatly surprised if he did.... Hullo, here the old chap is! You'll soon +know all about it." + +Old de Gorne was coming along, gesticulating as he walked. His easy-going +features were screwed up to express sorrow and anger. + +"Where's my son?" he cried. "It seems the brute's killed him!... My poor +Mathias dead! Oh, that scoundrel of a Vignal!" + +And he shook his fist at Jérôme. + +The deputy said, bluntly: + +"A word with you, M. de Gorne. Do you intend to claim your rights under a +certain insurance-policy?" + +"Well, what do _you_ think?" said the old man, off his guard. + +"The fact is ... your son's not dead. People are even saying that you were +a partner in his little schemes and that you stuffed him under the tilt of +your trap and drove him to the station." + +The old fellow spat on the ground, stretched out his hand as though he +were going to take a solemn oath, stood for an instant without moving and +then, suddenly, changing his mind and his tactics with ingenuous cynicism, +he relaxed his features, assumed a conciliatory attitude and burst out +laughing: + +"That blackguard Mathias! So he tried to pass himself off as dead? What a +rascal! And he reckoned on me to collect the insurance-money and send it +to him? As if I should be capable of such a low, dirty trick!... You don't +know me, my boy!" + +And, without waiting for more, shaking with merriment like a jolly old +fellow amused by a funny story, he took his departure, not forgetting, +however, to set his great hob-nail boots on each of the compromising +footprints which his son had left behind him. + + * * * * * + +Later, when Rénine went back to the manor to let Hortense out, he found +that she had disappeared. + +He called and asked for her at her cousin Ermelin's. Hortense sent down +word asking him to excuse her: she was feeling a little tired and was lying +down. + +"Capital!" thought Rénine. "Capital! She avoids me, therefore she loves me. +The end is not far off." + + + + +VIII + +AT THE SIGN OF MERCURY + + +_To Madame Daniel, + La Roncière, + near Bassicourt._ + +"PARIS 30 NOVEMBER + +"My Dearest Friend,-- + +"There has been no letter from you for a fortnight; so I don't expect now +to receive one for that troublesome date of the 5th of December, which we +fixed as the last day of our partnership. I rather wish it would come, +because you will then be released from a contract which no longer seems to +give you pleasure. To me the seven battles which we fought and won together +were a time of endless delight and enthusiasm. I was living beside you. I +was conscious of all the good which that more active and stirring existence +was doing you. My happiness was so great that I dared not speak of it to +you or let you see anything of my secret feelings except my desire to +please you and my passionate devotion. To-day you have had enough of your +brother in arms. Your will shall be law. + +"But, though I bow to your decree, may I remind I you what it was that I +always believed our final adventure would be? May I repeat your words, not +one of which I have forgotten? + +"'I demand,' you said, 'that you shall restore to me a small, antique +clasp, made of a cornelian set in a filigree mount. It came to me from my +mother; and every one knew that it used to bring her happiness and me too. +Since the day when it vanished from my jewel-case, I have had nothing but +unhappiness. Restore it to me, my good genius.' + +"And, when I asked you when the clasp had disappeared, you answered, with a +laugh: + +"'Seven years ago ... or eight ... or nine: I don't know exactly.... I +don't know when ... I don't know how ... I know nothing about it....' + +"You were challenging me, were you not, and you set me that condition +because it was one which I could not fulfil? Nevertheless, I promised and I +should like to keep my promise. What I have tried to do, in order to place +life before you in a more favourable light, would seem purposeless, if your +confidence feels the lack of this talisman to which you attach so great a +value. We must not laugh at these little superstitions. They are often the +mainspring of our best actions. + +"Dear friend, if you had helped me, I should have achieved yet one more +victory. Alone and hard pushed by the proximity of the date, I have failed, +not however without placing things on such a footing that the undertaking +if you care to follow it up, has the greatest chance of success. + +"And you will follow it up, won't you? We have entered into a mutual +agreement which we are bound to honour. It behooves us, within a fixed +time, to inscribe in the book of our common life eight good stories, to +which we shall have brought energy, logic, perseverance, some subtlety and +occasionally a little heroism. This is the eighth of them. It is for you to +act so that it may be written in its proper place on the 5th of December, +before the clock strikes eight in the evening. + +"And, on that day, you will act as I shall now tell you. + +"First of all--and above all, my dear, do not complain that my instructions +are fanciful: each of them is an indispensable condition of success--first +of all, cut in your cousin's garden three slender lengths of rush. Plait +them together and bind up the two ends so as to make a rude switch, like a +child's whip-lash. + +"When you get to Paris, buy a long necklace of jet beads, cut into facets, +and shorten it so that it consists of seventy-five beads, of almost equal +size. + +"Under your winter cloak, wear a blue woollen gown. On your head, a toque +with red leaves on it. Round your neck, a feather boa. No gloves. No rings. + +"In the afternoon, take a cab along the left bank of the river to the +church of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. At four o'clock exactly, there will be, +near the holy-water basin, just inside the church, an old woman dressed +in black, saying her prayers on a silver rosary. She will offer you holy +water. Give her your necklace. She will count the beads and hand it back +to you. After this, you will walk behind her, you will cross an arm of the +Seine and she will lead you, down a lonely street in the Ile Saint-Louis, +to a house which you will enter by yourself. + +"On the ground-floor of this house, you will find a youngish man with a +very pasty complexion. Take off your cloak and then say to him: + +"'I have come to fetch my clasp.' + +"Do not be astonished by his agitation or dismay. Keep calm in his +presence. If he questions you, if he wants to know your reason for applying +to him or what impels you to make that request, give him no explanation. +Your replies must be confined to these brief formulas: + +"'I have come to fetch what belongs to me. I don't know you, I don't know +your name; but I am obliged to come to you like this. I must have my clasp +returned to me. I must.' + +"I honestly believe that, if you have the firmness not to swerve from +that attitude, whatever farce the man may play, you will be completely +successful. But the contest must be a short one and the issue will depend +solely on your confidence in yourself and your certainty of success. It +will be a sort of match in which you must defeat your opponent in the first +round. If you remain impassive, you will win. If you show hesitation or +uneasiness, you can do nothing against him. He will escape you and regain +the upper hand after a first moment of distress; and the game will be lost +in a few minutes. There is no midway house between victory or ... defeat. + +"In the latter event, you would be obliged--I beg you to pardon me for +saying so--again to accept my collaboration. I offer it you in advance, my +dear, and without any conditions, while stating quite plainly that all that +I have been able to do for you and all that I may yet do gives me no other +right than that of thanking you and devoting myself more than ever to the +woman who represents my joy, my whole life." + + * * * * * + +Hortense, after reading the letter, folded it up and put it away at the +back of a drawer, saying, in a resolute voice: + +"I sha'n't go." + +To begin with, although she had formerly attached some slight importance +to this trinket, which she had regarded as a mascot, she felt very little +interest in it now that the period of her trials was apparently at an end. +She could not forget that figure eight, which was the serial number of the +next adventure. To launch herself upon it meant taking up the interrupted +chain, going back to Rénine and giving him a pledge which, with his powers +of suggestion, he would know how to turn to account. + +Two days before the 5th of December, she was still in the same frame of +mind. So she was on the morning of the 4th; but suddenly, without even +having to contend against preliminary subterfuges, she ran out into the +garden, cut three lengths of rush, plaited them as she used to do in her +childhood and at twelve o'clock had herself driven to the station. She was +uplifted by an eager curiosity. She was unable to resist all the amusing +and novel sensations which the adventure, proposed by Rénine, promised her. +It was really too tempting. The jet necklace, the toque with the autumn +leaves, the old woman with the silver rosary: how could she resist their +mysterious appeal and how could she refuse this opportunity of showing +Rénine what she was capable of doing? + +"And then, after all," she said to herself, laughing, "he's summoning me to +Paris. Now eight o'clock is dangerous to me at a spot three hundred miles +from Paris, in that old deserted Château de Halingre, but nowhere else. The +only clock that can strike the threatening hour is down there, under lock +and key, a prisoner!" + +She reached Paris that evening. On the morning of the 5th she went out and +bought a jet necklace, which she reduced to seventy-five beads, put on +a blue gown and a toque with red leaves and, at four o'clock precisely, +entered the church of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. + +Her heart was throbbing violently. This time she was alone; and how acutely +she now felt the strength of that support which, from unreflecting fear +rather than any reasonable motive, she had thrust aside! She looked around +her, almost hoping to see him. But there was no one there ... no one except +an old lady in black, standing beside the holy water basin. + +Hortense went up to her. The old lady, who held a silver rosary in her +hands, offered her holy water and then began to count the beads of the +necklace which Hortense gave her. + +She whispered: + +"Seventy-five. That's right. Come." + +Without another word, she toddled along under the light of the +street-lamps, crossed the Pont des Tournelles to the Ile Saint-Louis and +went down an empty street leading to a cross-roads, where she stopped in +front of an old house with wrought-iron balconies: + +"Go in," she said. + +And the old lady went away. + + * * * * * + +Hortense now saw a prosperous-looking shop which occupied almost the +whole of the ground-floor and whose windows, blazing with electric light, +displayed a huddled array of old furniture and antiquities. She stood there +for a few seconds, gazing at it absently. A sign-board bore the words "The +Mercury," together with the name of the owner of the shop, "Pancaldi." +Higher up, on a projecting cornice which ran on a level with the first +floor, a small niche sheltered a terra-cotta Mercury poised on one foot, +with wings to his sandals and the caduceus in his hand, who, as Hortense +noted, was leaning a little too far forward in the ardour of his flight +and ought logically to have lost his balance and taken a header into the +street. + +"Now!" she said, under her breath. + +She turned the handle of the door and walked in. + +Despite the ringing of the bells actuated by the opening door, no one came +to meet her. The shop seemed to be empty. However, at the extreme end there +was a room at the back of the shop and after that another, both crammed +with furniture and knick-knacks, many of which looked very valuable. +Hortense followed a narrow gangway which twisted and turned between two +walls built up of cupboards, cabinets and console-tables, went up two steps +and found herself in the last room of all. + +A man was sitting at a writing-desk and looking through some account-books. +Without turning his head, he said: + +"I am at your service, madam.... Please look round you...." + +This room contained nothing but articles of a special character which +gave it the appearance of some alchemist's laboratory in the middle ages: +stuffed owls, skeletons, skulls, copper alembics, astrolabes and all +around, hanging on the walls, amulets of every description, mainly hands +of ivory or coral with two fingers pointing to ward off ill-luck. + +"Are you wanting anything in particular, madam?" asked M. Pancaldi, closing +his desk and rising from his chair. + +"It's the man," thought Hortense. + +He had in fact an uncommonly pasty complexion. A little forked beard, +flecked with grey, lengthened his face, which was surmounted by a bald, +pallid forehead, beneath which gleamed a pair of small, prominent, +restless, shifty eyes. + +Hortense, who had not removed her veil or cloak, replied: + +"I want a clasp." + +"They're in this show-case," he said, leading the way to the connecting +room. + +Hortense glanced over the glass case and said: + +"No, no, ... I don't see what I'm looking for. I don't want just any clasp, +but a clasp which I lost out of a jewel-case some years ago and which I +have to look for here." + +She was astounded to see the commotion displayed on his features. His eyes +became haggard. + +"Here?... I don't think you are in the least likely.... What sort of clasp +is it?..." + +"A cornelian, mounted in gold filigree ... of the 1830 period." + +"I don't understand," he stammered. "Why do you come to me?" + +She now removed her veil and laid aside her cloak. + +He stepped back, as though terrified by the sight of her, and whispered: + +"The blue gown!... The toque!... And--can I believe my eyes?--the jet +necklace!..." + +It was perhaps the whip-lash formed of three rushes that excited him most +violently. He pointed his finger at it, began to stagger where he stood and +ended by beating the air with his arms, like a drowning man, and fainting +away in a chair. + +Hortense did not move. + +"Whatever farce he may play," Rénine had written, "have the courage to +remain impassive." + +Perhaps he was not playing a farce. Nevertheless she forced herself to be +calm and indifferent. + +This lasted for a minute or two, after which M. Pancaldi recovered from +his swoon, wiped away the perspiration streaming down his forehead and, +striving to control himself, resumed, in a trembling voice: + +"Why do you apply to me?" + +"Because the clasp is in your possession." + +"Who told you that?" he said, without denying the accusation. "How do you +know?" + +"I know because it is so. Nobody has told me anything. I came here positive +that I should find my clasp and with the immovable determination to take it +away with me." + +"But do you know me? Do you know my name?" + +"I don't know you. I did not know your name before I read it over your +shop. To me you are simply the man who is going to give me back what +belongs to me." + +He was greatly agitated. He kept on walking to and fro in a small empty +space surrounded by a circle of piled-up furniture, at which he hit out +idiotically, at the risk of bringing it down. + +Hortense felt that she had the whip hand of him; and, profiting by his +confusion, she said, suddenly, in a commanding and threatening tone: + +"Where is the thing? You must give it back to me. I insist upon it." + +Pancaldi gave way to a moment of despair. He folded his hands and mumbled a +few words of entreaty. Then, defeated and suddenly resigned, he said, more +distinctly: + +"You insist?..." + +"I do. You must give it to me." + +"Yes, yes, I must ... I agree." + +"Speak!" she ordered, more harshly still. + +"Speak, no, but write: I will write my secret.... And that will be the end +of me." + +He turned to his desk and feverishly wrote a few lines on a sheet of paper, +which he put into an envelope and sealed it: + +"See," he said, "here's my secret.... It was my whole life...." + +And, so saying, he suddenly pressed against his temple a revolver which he +had produced from under a pile of papers and fired. + +With a quick movement, Hortense struck up his arm. The bullet struck the +mirror of a cheval-glass. But Pancaldi collapsed and began to groan, as +though he were wounded. + +Hortense made a great effort not to lose her composure: + +"Rénine warned me," she reflected. "The man's a play-actor. He has kept the +envelope. He has kept his revolver, I won't be taken in by him." + +Nevertheless, she realized that, despite his apparent calmness, the attempt +at suicide and the revolver-shot had completely unnerved her. All her +energies were dispersed, like the sticks of a bundle whose string has been +cut; and she had a painful impression that the man, who was grovelling at +her feet, was in reality slowly getting the better of her. + +She sat down, exhausted. As Rénine had foretold, the duel had not lasted +longer than a few minutes but it was she who had succumbed, thanks to her +feminine nerves and at the very moment when she felt entitled to believe +that she had won. + +The man Pancaldi was fully aware of this; and, without troubling to invent +a transition, he ceased his jeremiads, leapt to his feet, cut a sort of +agile caper before Hortense' eyes and cried, in a jeering tone: + +"Now we are going to have a little chat; but it would be a nuisance to be +at the mercy of the first passing customer, wouldn't it?" + +He ran to the street-door, opened it and pulled down the iron shutter which +closed the shop. Then, still hopping and skipping, he came back to +Hortense: + +"Oof! I really thought I was done for! One more effort, madam, and you +would have pulled it off. But then I'm such a simple chap! It seemed to me +that you had come from the back of beyond, as an emissary of Providence, +to call me to account; and, like a fool, I was about to give the thing +back.... Ah, Mlle. Hortense--let me call you so: I used to know you by that +name--Mlle. Hortense, what you lack, to use a vulgar expression, is gut." + +He sat down beside her and, with a malicious look, said, savagely: + +"The time has come to speak out. Who contrived this business? Not you; eh? +It's not in your style. Then who?... I have always been honest in my life, +scrupulously honest ... except once ... in the matter of that clasp. And, +whereas I thought the story was buried and forgotten, here it is suddenly +raked up again. Why? That's what I want to know." + +Hortense was no longer even attempting to fight. He was bringing to bear +upon her all his virile strength, all his spite, all his fears, all the +threats expressed in his furious gestures and on his features, which were +both ridiculous and evil: + +"Speak, I want to know. If I have a secret foe, let me defend myself +against him! Who is he? Who sent you here? Who urged you to take action? Is +it a rival incensed by my good luck, who wants in his turn to benefit by +the clasp? Speak, can't you, damn it all ... or, I swear by Heaven, I'll +make you!..." + +She had an idea that he was reaching out for his revolver and stepped back, +holding her arms before her, in the hope of escaping. + +They thus struggled against each other; and Hortense, who was becoming +more and more frightened, not so much of the attack as of her assailant's +distorted face, was beginning to scream, when Pancaldi suddenly stood +motionless, with his arms before him, his fingers outstretched and his eyes +staring above Hortense's head: + +"Who's there? How did you get in?" he asked, in a stifled voice. + +Hortense did not even need to turn round to feel assured that Rénine was +coming to her assistance and that it was his inexplicable appearance that +was causing the dealer such dismay. As a matter of fact, a slender figure +stole through a heap of easy chairs and sofas: and Rénine came forward with +a tranquil step. + +"Who are you?" repeated Pancaldi. "Where do you come from?" + +"From up there," he said, very amiably, pointing to the ceiling. + +"From up there?" + +"Yes, from the first floor. I have been the tenant of the floor above this +for the past three months. I heard a noise just now. Some one was calling +out for help. So I came down." + +"But how did you get in here?" + +"By the staircase." + +"What staircase?" + +"The iron staircase, at the end of the shop. The man who owned it before +you had a flat on my floor and used to go up and down by that hidden +staircase. You had the door shut off. I opened it." + +"But by what right, sir? It amounts to breaking in." + +"Breaking in is allowed, when there's a fellow-creature to be rescued." + +"Once more, who are you?" + +"Prince Rénine ... and a friend of this lady's," said Rénine, bending over +Hortense and kissing her hand. + +Pancaldi seemed to be choking, and mumbled: + +"Oh, I understand!... You instigated the plot ... it was you who sent the +lady...." + +"It was, M. Pancaldi, it was!" + +"And what are your intentions?" + +"My intentions are irreproachable. No violence. Simply a little interview. +When that is over, you will hand over what I in my turn have come to +fetch." + +"What?" + +"The clasp." + +"That, never!" shouted the dealer. + +"Don't say no. It's a foregone conclusion." + +"No power on earth, sir, can compel me to do such a thing!" + +"Shall we send for your wife? Madame Pancaldi will perhaps realize the +position better than you do." + +The idea of no longer being alone with this unexpected adversary seemed to +appeal to Pancaldi. There was a bell on the table beside him. He struck it +three times. + +"Capital!" exclaimed Rénine "You see, my dear, M. Pancaldi is becoming +quite amiable. Not a trace left of the devil broken loose who was going for +you just now. No, M. Pancaldi only has to find himself dealing with a man +to recover his qualities of courtesy and kindness. A perfect sheep! Which +does not mean that things will go quite of themselves. Far from it! There's +no more obstinate animal than a sheep...." + +Right at the end of the shop, between the dealer's writing-desk and the +winding staircase, a curtain was raised, admitting a woman who was holding +a door open. She might have been thirty years of age. Very simply dressed, +she looked, with the apron on her, more like a cook than like the mistress +of a household. But she had an attractive face and a pleasing figure. + +Hortense, who had followed Rénine, was surprised to recognize her as a maid +whom she had had in her service when a girl: + +"What! Is that you, Lucienne? Are you Madame Pancaldi?" + +The newcomer looked at her, recognized her also and seemed embarrassed. +Rénine said to her: + +"Your husband and I need your assistance, Madame Pancaldi, to settle a +rather complicated matter a matter in which you played an important +part...." + +She came forward without a word, obviously ill at ease, asking her husband, +who did not take his eyes off her: + +"What is it?... What do they want with me?... What is he referring to?" + +"It's about the clasp!" Pancaldi whispered, under his breath. + +These few words were enough to make Madame Pancaldi realize to the full the +seriousness of her position. And she did not try to keep her countenance or +to retort with futile protests. She sank into a chair, sighing: + +"Oh, that's it!... I understand.... Mlle. Hortense has found the track.... +Oh, it's all up with us!" + +There was a moment's respite. The struggle between the adversaries had +hardly begun, before the husband and wife adopted the attitude of defeated +persons whose only hope lay in the victor's clemency. Staring motionless +before her, Madame Pancaldi began to cry. Rénine bent over her and said: + +"Do you mind if we go over the case from the beginning? We shall then +see things more clearly; and I am sure that our interview will lead to a +perfectly natural solution.... This is how things happened: nine years ago, +when you were lady's maid to Mlle. Hortense in the country, you made the +acquaintance of M. Pancaldi, who soon became your lover. You were both of +you Corsicans, in other words, you came from a country where superstitions +are very strong and where questions of good and bad luck, the evil eye, and +spells and charms exert a profound influence over the lives of one and all. +Now it was said that your young mistress' clasp had always brought luck to +its owners. That was why, in a weak moment prompted by M. Pancaldi, you +stole the clasp. Six months afterwards, you became Madame Pancaldi.... That +is your whole story, is it not, told in a few sentences? The whole story +of two people who would have remained honest members of society, if they +had been able to resist that casual temptation?... I need not tell you how +you both succeeded in life and how, possessing the talisman, believing +its powers and trusting in yourselves, you rose to the first rank of +antiquarians. To-day, well-off, owning this shop, "The Mercury," you +attribute the success of your undertakings to that clasp. To lose it would +to your eyes spell bankruptcy and poverty. Your whole life has been centred +upon it. It is your fetish. It is the little household god who watches over +you and guides your steps. It is there, somewhere, hidden in this jungle; +and no one of course would ever have suspected anything--for I repeat, you +are decent people, but for this one lapse--if an accident had not led me to +look into your affairs." + +Rénine paused and continued: + +"That was two months ago, two months of minute investigations, which +presented no difficulty to me, because, having discovered your trail, I +hired the flat overhead and was able to use that staircase ... but, all +the same, two months wasted to a certain extent because I have not yet +succeeded. And Heaven knows how I have ransacked this shop of yours! There +is not a piece of furniture that I have left unsearched, not a plank in +the floor that I have not inspected. All to no purpose. Yes, there was one +thing, an incidental discovery. In a secret recess in your writing-table, +Pancaldi, I turned up a little account-book in which you have set down your +remorse, your uneasiness, your fear of punishment and your dread of God's +wrath.... It was highly imprudent of you, Pancaldi! People don't write +such confessions! And, above all, they don't leave them lying about! Be +this as it may, I read them and I noted one passage, which struck me +as particularly important and was of use to me in preparing my plan of +campaign: 'Should she come to me, the woman whom I robbed, should she come +to me as I saw her in her garden, while Lucienne was taking the clasp; +should she appear to me wearing the blue gown and the toque of red leaves, +with the jet necklace and the whip of three plaited rushes which she was +carrying that day; should she appear to me thus and say: "I have come to +claim my property," then I shall understand that her conduct is inspired +from on high and that I must obey the decree of Providence.' That is what +is written in your book, Pancaldi, and it explains the conduct of the lady +whom you call Mlle. Hortense. Acting on my instructions and in accordance +with the setting thought out by yourself, she came to you, from the back of +beyond, to use your own expression. A little more self-possession on her +part; and you know that she would have won the day. Unfortunately, you are +a wonderful actor; your sham suicide put her out; and you understood that +this was not a decree of Providence, but simply an offensive on the part of +your former victim. I had no choice, therefore, but to intervene. Here I +am.... And now let's finish the business. Pancaldi, that clasp!" + +"No," said the dealer, who seemed to recover all his energy at the very +thought of restoring the clasp. + +"And you, Madame Pancaldi." + +"I don't know where it is," the wife declared. + +"Very well. Then let us come to deeds. Madame Pancaldi, you have a son of +seven whom you love with all your heart. This is Thursday and, as on every +Thursday, your little boy is to come home alone from his aunt's. Two of my +friends are posted on the road by which he returns and, in the absence of +instructions to the contrary, will kidnap him as he passes." + +Madame Pancaldi lost her head at once: + +"My son! Oh, please, please ... not that!... I swear that I know nothing. +My husband would never consent to confide in me." + +Rénine continued: + +"Next point. This evening, I shall lodge an information with the public +prosecutor. Evidence: the confessions in the account-book. Consequences: +action by the police, search of the premises and the rest." + +Pancaldi was silent. The others had a feeling that all these threats did +not affect him and that, protected by his fetish, he believed himself +to be invulnerable. But his wife fell on her knees at Rénine's feet and +stammered: + +"No, no ... I entreat you!... It would mean going to prison and I don't +want to go!... And then my son!... Oh, I entreat you!..." + +Hortense, seized with compassion, took Rénine to one side: + +"Poor woman! Let me intercede for her." + +"Set your mind at rest," he said. "Nothing is going to happen to her son." + +"But your two friends?" + +"Sheer bluff." + +"Your application to the public prosecutor?" + +"A mere threat." + +"Then what are you trying to do?" + +"To frighten them out of their wits, in the hope of making them drop a +remark, a word, which will tell us what we want to know. We've tried every +other means. This is the last; and it is a method which, I find, nearly +always succeeds. Remember our adventures." + +"But if the word which you expect to hear is not spoken?" + +"It must be spoken," said Rénine, in a low voice. "We must finish the +matter. The hour is at hand." + +His eyes met hers; and she blushed crimson at the thought that the hour to +which he was alluding was the eighth and that he had no other object than +to finish the matter before that eighth hour struck. + +"So you see, on the one hand, what you are risking," he said to the +Pancaldi pair. "The disappearance of your child ... and prison: prison for +certain, since there is the book with its confessions. And now, on the +other hand, here's my offer: twenty thousand francs if you hand over the +clasp immediately, this minute. Remember, it isn't worth three louis." + +No reply. Madame Pancaldi was crying. + +Rénine resumed, pausing between each proposal: + +"I'll double my offer.... I'll treble it.... Hang it all, Pancaldi, you're +unreasonable!... I suppose you want me to make it a round sum? All right: a +hundred thousand francs." + +He held out his hand as if there was no doubt that they would give him the +clasp. + +Madame Pancaldi was the first to yield and did so with a sudden outburst of +rage against her husband: + +"Well, confess, can't you?... Speak up!... Where have you hidden it?... +Look here, you aren't going to be obstinate, what? If you are, it means +ruin ... and poverty.... And then there's our boy!... Speak out, do!" + +Hortense whispered: + +"Rénine, this is madness; the clasp has no value...." + +"Never fear," said Rénine, "he's not going to accept.... But look at +him.... How excited he is! Exactly what I wanted.... Ah, this, you know, +is really exciting!... To make people lose their heads! To rob them of all +control over what they are thinking and saying!... And, in the midst of +this confusion, in the storm that tosses them to and fro, to catch sight of +the tiny spark which will flash forth somewhere or other!... Look at him! +Look at the fellow! A hundred thousand francs for a valueless pebble ... if +not, prison: it's enough to turn any man's head!" + +Pancaldi, in fact, was grey in the face; his lips were trembling and a +drop of saliva was trickling from their corners. It was easy to guess the +seething turmoil of his whole being, shaken by conflicting emotions, by the +clash between greed and fear. Suddenly he burst out; and it was obvious +that his words were pouring forth at random, without his knowing in the +least what he was saying: + +"A hundred thousand francs! Two hundred thousand! Five hundred thousand! A +million! A two fig for your millions! What's the use of millions? One loses +them. They disappear.... They go.... There's only one thing that counts: +luck. It's on your side or else against you. And luck has been on my side +these last nine years. It has never betrayed me; and you expect me to +betray it? Why? Out of fear? Prison? My son? Bosh!... No harm will come to +me so long as I compel luck to work on my behalf. It's my servant, it's my +friend. It clings to the clasp. How? How can I tell? It's the cornelian, +no doubt.... There are magic stones, which hold happiness, as others hold +fire, or sulphur, or gold...." + +Rénine kept his eyes fixed upon him, watching for the least word, the least +modulation of the voice. The curiosity-dealer was now laughing, with a +nervous laugh, while resuming the self-control of a man who feels sure of +himself: and he walked up to Rénine with jerky movements that revealed an +increasing resolution: + +"Millions? My dear sir, I wouldn't have them as a gift. The little bit of +stone which I possess is worth much more than that. And the proof of it +lies in all the pains which you are at to take it from me. Aha! Months +devoted to looking for it, as you yourself confess! Months in which you +turned everything topsy-turvy, while I, who suspected nothing, did not even +defend myself! Why should I? The little thing defended itself all alone.... +It does not want to be discovered and it sha'n't be.... It likes being +here.... It presides over a good, honest business that satisfies it.... +Pancaldi's luck! Why, it's known to all the neighbourhood, among all the +dealers! I proclaim it from the house-tops: 'I'm a lucky man!' I even made +so bold as to take the god of luck, Mercury, as my patron! He too protects +me. See, I've got Mercuries all over my shop! Look up there, on that shelf, +a whole row of statuettes, like the one over the front-door, proofs signed +by a great sculptor who went smash and sold them to me.... Would you like +one, my dear sir? It will bring you luck too. Take your pick! A present +from Pancaldi, to make up to you for your defeat! Does that suit you?" + +He put a stool against the wall, under the shelf, took down a statuette and +plumped it into Rénine's arms. And, laughing heartily, growing more and +more excited as his enemy seemed to yield ground and to fall back before +his spirited attack, he explained: + +"Well done! He accepts! And the fact that he accepts shows that we are all +agreed! Madame Pancaldi, don't distress yourself. Your son's coming back and +nobody's going to prison! Good-bye, Mlle. Hortense! Good-day, sir! Hope +to see you again! If you want to speak to me at any time, just give three +thumps on the ceiling. Good-bye ... don't forget your present ... and +may Mercury be kind to you! Good-bye, my dear Prince! Good-bye, Mlle. +Hortense!..." + +He hustled them to the iron staircase, gripped each of them by the arm in +turn and pushed them up to the little door hidden at the top of the stairs. + +And the strange thing was that Rénine made no protest. He did not attempt +to resist. He allowed himself to be led along like a naughty child that is +taken up to bed. + +Less than five minutes had elapsed between the moment when he made his +offer to Pancaldi and the moment when Pancaldi turned him out of the shop +with a statuette in his arms. + + * * * * * + +The dining-room and drawing-room of the flat which Rénine had taken on the +first floor looked out upon the street. The table in the dining-room was +laid for two. + +"Forgive me, won't you?" said Rénine, as he opened the door of the +drawing-room for Hortense. "I thought that, whatever happened, I should +most likely see you this evening and that we might as well dine together. +Don't refuse me this kindness, which will be the last favour granted in our +last adventure." + +Hortense did not refuse him. The manner in which the battle had ended was +so different from everything that she had seen hitherto that she felt +disconcerted. At any rate, why should she refuse, seeing that the terms of +the contract had not been fulfilled? + +Rénine left the room to give an order to his manservant. Two minutes later, +he came back for Hortense. It was then a little past seven. + +There were flowers on the table; and the statue of Mercury, Pancaldi's +present, stood overtopping them. + +"May the god of luck preside over our repast," said Rénine. + +He was full of animation and expressed his great delight at having her +sitting opposite him: + +"Yes," he exclaimed, "I had to resort to powerful means and attract you by +the bait of the most fabulous enterprises. You must confess that my letter +was jolly smart! The three rushes, the blue gown; simply irresistible! +And, when I had thrown in a few puzzles of my own invention, such as the +seventy-five beads of the necklace and the old woman with the silver +rosary, I knew that you were bound to succumb to the temptation. Don't be +angry with me. I wanted to see you and I wanted it to be today. You have +come and I thank you." + +He next told her how he had got on the track of the stolen trinket: + +"You hoped, didn't you, in laying down that condition, that I shouldn't be +able to fulfil it? You made a mistake, my dear. The test, at least at the +beginning, was easy enough, because it was based upon an undoubted fact: +the talismanic character attributed to the clasp. I had only to hunt about +and see whether among the people around you, among your servants, there was +ever any one upon whom that character may have exercised some attraction. +Now, on the list of persons which I succeeded in drawing up. I at once +noticed the name of Mlle. Lucienne, as coming from Corsica. This was my +starting-point. The rest was a mere concatenation of events." + +Hortense stared at him in amazement. How was it that he was accepting his +defeat with such a careless air and even talking in a tone of triumph, +whereas really he had been soundly beaten by Pancaldi and even made to look +just a trifle ridiculous? + +She could not help letting him feel this; and the fashion in which she did +so betrayed a certain disappointment, a certain humiliation: + +"Everything is a concatenation of events: very well. But the chain is +broken, because, when all is said, though you know the thief, you did not +succeed in laying hands upon the stolen clasp." + +The reproach was obvious. Rénine had not accustomed her to failure. And +furthermore she was irritated to see how heedlessly he was accepting a +blow which, after all, entailed the ruin of any hopes that he might have +entertained. + +He did not reply. He had filled their two glasses with champagne and was +slowly emptying his own, with his eyes fixed on the statuette of Mercury. +He turned it about on its pedestal and examined it with the eye of a +delighted connoisseur: + +"What a beautiful thing is a harmonious line! Colour does not uplift me +so much as outline, proportion, symmetry and all the wonderful properties +of form. Look at this little statue. Pancaldi's right: it's the work of +a great artist. The legs are both slender and muscular; the whole figure +gives an impression of buoyancy and speed. It is very well done. There's +only one fault, a very slight one: perhaps you've not noticed it?" + +"Yes, I have," said Hortense. "It struck me the moment I saw the sign, +outside. You mean, don't you, a certain lack of balance? The god is leaning +over too far on the leg that carries him. He looks as though he were going +to pitch forward." + +"That's very clever of you," said Rénine. "The fault is almost +imperceptible and it needs a trained eye to see it. Really, however, as +a matter of logic, the weight of the body ought to have its way and, in +accordance with natural laws, the little god ought to take a header." + +After a pause he continued: + +"I noticed that flaw on the first day. How was it that I did not draw an +inference at once? I was shocked because the artist had sinned against +an aesthetic law, whereas I ought to have been shocked because he had +overlooked a physical law. As though art and nature were not blended +together! And as though the laws of gravity could be disturbed without +some fundamental reason!" + +"What do you mean?" asked Hortense, puzzled by these reflections, which +seemed so far removed from their secret thoughts. "What do you mean?" + +"Oh, nothing!" he said. "I am only surprised that I didn't understand +sooner why Mercury did not plump forward, as he should have done." + +"And what is the reason?" + +"The reason? I imagine that Pancaldi, when pulling the statuette about to +make it serve his purpose, must have disturbed its balance, but that this +balance was restored by something which holds the little god back and which +makes up for his really too dangerous posture." + +"Something, you say?" + +"Yes, a counterweight." + +Hortense gave a start. She too was beginning to see a little light. She +murmured: + +"A counterweight?... Are you thinking that it might be ... in the +pedestal?" + +"Why not?" + +"Is that possible? But, if so, how did Pancaldi come to give you this +statuette?" + +"He never gave me _this_ one," Rénine declared. "I took this one +myself." + +"But where? And when?" + +"Just now, while you were in the drawing-room. I got out of that window, +which is just over the signboard and beside the niche containing the little +god. And I exchanged the two, that is to say, I took the statue which was +outside and put the one which Pancaldi gave me in its place." + +"But doesn't that one lean forward?" + +"No, no more than the others do, on the shelf in his shop. But Pancaldi +is not an artist. A lack of equilibrium does not impress him; he will see +nothing wrong; and he will continue to think himself favoured by luck, +which is another way of saying that luck will continue to favour him. +Meanwhile, here's the statuette, the one used for the sign. Am I to break +the pedestal and take your clasp out of the leaden sheath, soldered to the +back of the pedestal, which keeps Mercury steady?" + +"No, no, there's no need for that," Hortense hurriedly murmured. + +Rénine's intuition, his subtlety, the skill with which he had managed the +whole business: to her, for the moment, all these things remained in the +background. But she suddenly remembered that the eighth adventure was +completed, that Rénine had surmounted every obstacle, that the test had +turned to his advantage and that the extreme limit of time fixed for the +last of the adventures was not yet reached. + +He had the cruelty to call attention to the fact: + +"A quarter to eight," he said. + +An oppressive silence fell between them. Both felt its discomfort to such +a degree that they hesitated to make the least movement. In order to break +it, Rénine jested: + +"That worthy M. Pancaldi, how good it was of him to tell me what I wished +to know! I knew, however, that by exasperating him, I should end by picking +up the missing clue in what he said. It was just as though one were to hand +some one a flint and steel and suggest to him that he was to use it. In the +end, the spark is obtained. In my case, what produced the spark was the +unconscious but inevitable comparison which he drew between the cornelian +clasp, the element of luck, and Mercury, the god of luck. That was enough. +I understood that this association of ideas arose from his having actually +associated the two factors of luck by embodying one in the other, or, to +speak more plainly, by hiding the trinket in the statuette. And I at once +remembered the Mercury outside the door and its defective poise...." + +Rénine suddenly interrupted himself. It seemed to him that all his remarks +were falling on deaf ears. Hortense had put her hand to her forehead and, +thus veiling her eyes, sat motionless and remote. + +She was indeed not listening. The end of this particular adventure and the +manner in which Rénine had acted on this occasion no longer interested her. +What she was thinking of was the complex series of adventures amid which +she had been living for the past three months and the wonderful behaviour +of the man who had offered her his devotion. She saw, as in a magic +picture, the fabulous deeds performed by him, all the good that he had +done, the lives saved, the sorrows assuaged, the order restored wherever +his masterly will had been brought to bear. Nothing was impossible to +him. What he undertook to do he did. Every aim that he set before him +was attained in advance. And all this without excessive effort, with the +calmness of one who knows his own strength and knows that nothing can +resist it. + +Then what could she do against him? Why should she defend herself and how? +If he demanded that she should yield, would he not know how to make her do +so and would this last adventure be any more difficult for him than the +others? Supposing that she ran away: did the wide world contain a retreat +in which she would be safe from his pursuit? From the first moment of their +first meeting, the end was certain, since Rénine had decreed that it should +be so. + +However, she still cast about for weapons, for protection of some sort; and +she said to herself that, though he had fulfilled the eight conditions and +restored the cornelian clasp to her before the eighth hour had struck, she +was nevertheless protected by the fact that this eighth hour was to strike +on the clock of the Château de Halingre and not elsewhere. It was a formal +compact. Rénine had said that day, gazing on the lips which he longed to +kiss: + +"The old brass pendulum will start swinging again; and, when, on the fixed +date, the clock once more strikes eight, then...." + +She looked up. He was not moving either, but sat solemnly, patiently +waiting. + +She was on the point of saying, she was even preparing her words: + +"You know, our agreement says it must be the Halingre clock. All the other +conditions have been fulfilled ... but not this one. So I am free, am I +not? I am entitled not to keep my promise, which, moreover, I never made, +but which in any case falls to the ground?... And I am perfectly free ... +released from any scruple of conscience?..." + +She had not time to speak. At that precise moment, there was a click behind +her, like that of a clock about to strike. + +A first stroke sounded, then a second, then a third. + +Hortense moaned. She had recognized the very sound of the old clock, the +Halingre clock, which three months ago, by breaking in a supernatural +manner the silence of the deserted château, had set both of them on the +road of the eight adventures. + +She counted the strokes. The clock struck eight. + +"Ah!" she murmured, half swooning and hiding her face in her hands. "The +clock ... the clock is here ... the one from over there ... I recognize its +voice...." + +She said no more. She felt that Rénine had his eyes fixed upon her and this +sapped all her energies. Besides, had she been able to recover them, she +would have been no better off nor sought to offer him the least resistance, +for the reason that she did not wish to resist. All the adventures were +over, but one remained to be undertaken, the anticipation of which wiped +out the memory of all the rest. It was the adventure of love, the most +delightful, the most bewildering, the most adorable of all adventures. She +accepted fate's decree, rejoicing in all that might come, because she was +in love. She smiled in spite of herself, as she reflected that happiness +was again to enter her life at the very moment when her well-beloved was +bringing her the cornelian clasp. + +The clock struck the hour for the second time. + +Hortense raised her eyes to Rénine. She struggled a few seconds longer. But +she was like a charmed bird, incapable of any movement of revolt; and at +the eighth stroke she fell upon his breast and offered him her lips.... + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Eight Strokes of the Clock, by Maurice Le Blanc + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EIGHT STROKES OF THE CLOCK *** + +This file should be named 8stcl10.txt or 8stcl10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8stcl11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8stcl10a.txt + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + |